It was light in the completely empty hall. When preparing the assignments, materials from textbooks by L. Akhremenkova, D.E. were used. Rosenthal and V.F. Grekova, S.E. Kryuchkova, L.A. Czech. Topic: Adjective in the aspect of speech culture

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From the early childhood and up to mature years I see her in endless troubles. The countryside is still sleeping, a heavy gray fog is floating over the ground, the morning snow is blowing or pouring rain is pouring - no matter what happens in the world, she invariably makes her way to the farm, to the field, to the melon field, to greenhouses or hotbeds... She feeds the country feeds the people. What could be higher than this share? What could be greater than this honor?

How selfless she is in her eternal worries about her children, her loved one, all her relatives and sometimes barely familiar people.

I had to listen to many touching confessions, and how many times I was amazed at the spiritual responsiveness of rural women, their kindness and cordiality, which literally knew no bounds.

I offer - verb.

1. N.f. - bring.

2. Posting signs: nesov view, 2 spr, transitional, non-exit.

3. Signs of non-posting: express nakl, singular number, present time, 1st person.

4. What am I doing? I offer it.

Washed - verb.

1. N.f. - wash.

2. Posting signs: owl species, 1 spr., transitional, non-exit.

4. Kasym (did what?) washed.

Sleeping is a verb.

1. N.f. - sleep.

2. Posting signs: nesov view, 2 spr, intransitive, irrevocable.

3. Signs of non-posting: express nakl, singular number, present time, 3rd person.

4. The district (what is it doing?) is sleeping.

Floats - verb.

1. N.f. - swim.

2. Posting signs: nesov view, 1 spr., intransitive, irrevocable.

3. Signs of non-posting: express the number, singular number, present time, 3rd person.

4. The fog (what is it doing?) is floating.

Amazed - verb.

1. N.f. - to be amazed.

2. Post signs: nesov view, 1 spr., intransitive, ascendant.

3. Signs of non-fasting: will express the number, unit number, past time, husband gender.

4. I (what did I do?) was amazed.

No. 257. Preach new views, review articles, propagate legal knowledge, stabilize the situation, feel satisfaction, report on the work of the commission, honor the winners, participate in the performance.

No. 258. Desire - wishing - desired. Throwing - throwing - being thrown. Draw - drawing - drawn. Draw - drawn - drawn. Win - victorious - defeated. To tie - to tie - to tie. Build - builder - being built. Build - built - built. Fight - struggling - struggling. Push - pushing - pushing. Wash - washing - washed. To see - having seen - visible.

No. 259. Admire the stormy sea and the sun setting into the clouds;

talk about the stadium being built in the city;

make your way through the raging blizzard nearby, think about the blizzard blowing up in the yard, talk about the hurricane that rushed over the city, talk with a tourist returning from a hike, watch climbers climbing to the top of the mountain, rejoice at your brother returning from a business trip.

No. 260. With the flickering, squealing saber circling above his head, Porfiry ran off the porch. With narrowed eyes he looked at the water, running out from under the steamer in a concave, foaming path. In the silence that followed, the howling of the raging wind could be clearly heard. The mother, with shaking hands, could not light the smokehouse for a long time.

Many times we were deceived, trying to discern signs of human life on the approaching shore. Finally, the most keen-sighted among us saw the thin arrow of a radio mast lost against the background of the stone shore. Decorated in a festive manner with colorful flags that were inflated as it went, the icebreaker entered the bay.

The narrow, long spit looked like a huge tower that had fallen from the shore into the sea. The clouds covered it with an even, heavy canopy that fell over the water. The deserted sea laughed, playing in the reflection of the sun. Small playful waves, generated by the gentle breath of the wind, quietly beat against the side. The silence in the steppe is shaken by the dull rumble of a train heading towards a lonely station surrounded by darkness. In the rustling surrounding us, I heard the voice of the shore.

No. 261. Masons building a house work quickly and confidently. - The newly constructed buildings are beautiful and comfortable. Several classes were transferred to the newly opened school. - We thanked the woman who opened the door for us. The mother talked with the doctor treating her child. - The doctor spoke in detail about the patient he treated. Passengers were rushing to board the departing train. - The station attendant dispatching the train gave a signal.

The girl pushing the child almost overturned the sled. - The child riding in the sled laughed merrily. The public hurried to the opening athletics competitions. - The athletes opening the competition were preparing for the start. The travelers watched with alarm as the rain intensified. - The north wind, which had increased the frost, gradually subsided.

No. 262. The waves of the sea, encased in granite, are suppressed by huge weights sliding along their ridges and hitting the sides of ships. Figures of masons are briskly crawling along the lime-strewn boards of the scaffolding that has embraced the red bulk of the house under construction. His seething, nervous nature, greedy for impressions, was never satiated by the contemplation of this dark breadth, endlessly free and powerful.

Long, bony, slightly stooped, he walked slowly over the stones... His brown mustache, thick and long, quivered every now and then. Tired from excitement, I fell fast asleep on the bed. The clouds looked like waves rushing down to the ground in curly gray clouds, and like the abysses from which these waves were torn, and like nascent ramparts, not yet covered with the greenish foam of rage and anger.

Sliding - participle.

1. From the verb to slide.

2. N.f. - sliding.

3. Posting signs: real, present time, non-formal.

4. Non-post signs: TV pad, plural number.

5. Sliding weights (what?).

Under construction - communion.

1. From the verb to build.

2. N.f. - under construction.

3. Post signs: real, past time, non-formal.

4. Signs of non-fasting: gender pad, singular number, husband gender.

5. The house (what?) was being built.

No. 263. In the Meshchera region you can see pine forests, where it is so solemn and quiet that the bell of a lost cow can be heard very far away, almost a kilometer away. Yegorushka reluctantly looked ahead at the purple distance, and it began to seem to him that the mill, flapping its wings, was approaching.

See, heard, far away, waving, approaching.

No. 264. A man breathing heavily (breathe, 2, breathe), a worker grinding (grinding, 1, grinding) flour, sawing (sawing, 2, sawing) wood, children splashing (splash, 1, splashing) in the water, a boy gluing (glue, 2, are gluing) a box, a number that appears (is appearing, 2, appearing) on ​​the list, a crew fighting (fighting, 1, fighting) against the storm, a regiment bravely fighting (fighting, 1, fighting), a bustling ( fuss, 1, are busy) housewife at the stove, spreading (spread, 1, are spreading) steppe, a building under construction (being built, 2, being built), a young man chopping (splitting, 1, chopping) firewood, hiding (hiding, 1, hiding ) a child, trembling (trembling, 1, trembling) a fish, preparing (preparing, 2, preparing) for tests, a student, dozing (dozing, 1, dozing) an old man, hearing (heard, 2, heard) a beep from a distance, creeping ( creep, 1, creep) fog, barking (bark, 1, bark) dog, ripening (sleep, 1, ripe) grapes.

No. 265. The nature of the thirsty steppes gave birth to him on the day of wrath.

A squall burrowed into the shifting surface of the ocean, dousing the bridge in whipping spray. The moon and stars disappeared before the brilliance of this wonderful, fresh, joyful morning. Looking at his cheerful companion, at his rosy, healthy face, even strangers involuntarily smile. Everything inside me was trembling with bubbling laughter. The puddles glistened from the melting snow. Suddenly, among the silence, Nikolai’s cutting voice was heard. Meeting the pricking gaze of small eyes, she timidly moved her eyebrows. Pechorin is a decisive man, hungry for worries and storms.

No. 266. To love - love - beloved;

excite - excite - excitable;

respect - respect - respected;

worry - worry - worried;

hear - hear - audible;

edit - edit - editable;

control - control - controlled;

hate - hate - not hated;

support - support - supported;

encourage - encourage - encouraged;

depict - depict - depicted;

see - see - visible;

interrupt - interrupt - interrupted;

forget - forget - forgotten;

change - from change - changeable.

Dear client, hated by everyone around him, recommended by specialists.

No. 267. Lower - lowered, lowered;

illuminate - illuminated, illuminated;

dedicate - dedicated, dedicated;

offend - obi affairs, offended;

consider - considered, considered;

for shoot - shot, shot;

shoot - shot, shot;

repay - extinguished, extinguished;

mix - interfered, mixed;

hang - hung, hung;

buy - bought, bought;

throw - abandoned, abandoned;

crown - crowned, crowned;

promise - promised, promised;

strike - struck, struck;

fire at - fired at, fired at;

to shoot - shot, shot down;

start - started, started;

cut - cut, cut at the seams;

ridicule - ridiculed, ridiculed;

sow - sowed, sown last month;

glue - glued, glued tightly;

to hang - to hang, hung;

weigh - weighed, weighed;

console - consoled, consoled.

No. 268. The dough is well kneaded (knead). He was involved (to interfere) in an unpleasant story. The walls of the room were covered with light-colored wallpaper. The lost (lost) book was found. Errors noted (noted) in time were quickly corrected. The first shoots appeared in unison on the fields sown (to sow) in early spring. The work was completed (finish) on time. The laundry was quickly dried (dried) by the wind. The lecture was listened to (listen) with deep attention.

No. 269. The school drama club, led by the artist of the city theater, is preparing a new production. - The artist leading the school drama club carefully explains the role to each participant in the performance. Young people who did the work to expand the school garden wrote about their experience in the school wall newspaper. - The great work done by the young people was described in detail in the school wall newspaper. A girl who had read a new book told her friends about her impressions of it. - A new book, read by the girl, was written brightly and captivatingly. A new device invented by an engineer is of great value. - The engineer who invented the new device received a prize. The wind driving the clouds did not subside for a minute. - Clouds, driven by the wind, quickly rushed across the sky.

No. 270. The birch leaves rustle slightly, barely swayed by the wind. The roar was reflected in the distant heights with a trembling blush. Words descend on thoughts breathing with power like beads. I love the smoke of burnt stubble, a convoy spending the night in the steppe, and a pair of white birches on a hill in the middle of a yellow field. The mermaid swam along the blue river, illuminated by the full moon. And suddenly there was a cave in front of the knight;

there is light in the cave. He goes straight to her under the dormant arches. After the black dungeon, the light reflected by the snow seems unusually bright, hurting the eyes. The mined coal flows in a continuous stream, falling like a thundering waterfall into the holds of a ship moored to the pier. Maria Andreevna’s face, bursting with health, became pale.

From time to time, a signalman waving a flag appeared on the road ahead. Suddenly the tramp of a galloping horse was heard.

No. 271. We go out onto the ice, covered with already explored snow, and step onto the snow. Sliding over crumbling stones, we climb a high embankment stretching along the open, bare shore. Having straightened the gun behind my back, buttoning up my jacket tightly with the wind blowing tightly in my face, I walk along the shore. I look at the stones that have fallen in a heap from the shore into the sea. A ray of sunshine, breaking through, illuminates the edge of a black, hanging cloud. I raise my binoculars and peer into the shifting depths of the dead desert. A yellowish spot moves in a white, sparkling field. Alien to the surrounding world, “Sedov” looms in the snowy haze.

Day and night, night and day, a boat runs between the shore and the ship, loaded for stability with boxes of rifle cartridges. The owners of the station under construction take turns at the helm.

Covered - participle.

1. From the verb - to cover.

2. N.f. - covered.

4. Signs of non-fasting: complete, vin pad, singular number, husband gender.

5. Ice (what?) covered.

To those who have been studied - communion.

1. From the verb - to explore.

2. N.f. - researched.

3. Posting signs: passive, past time, sov form.

4. Non-fasting signs: complete, tv pad, unit number, husband gender.

5. Snow (what kind?) explored.

To those who crumble - communion.

1. From the verb - to crumble.

2. N.f. - crumbling.

4. Non-post signs: date pad, plural number.

5. Stones (what?) crumbling.

To those who blow - communion.

1. From the verb - to blow.

2. N.f. - blowing.

3. Posting signs: real, present time, non-formal.

4. Non-fasting signs: TV pad, unit number, husband gender.

5. By the wind (what?) blowing.

Stretched out - communion.

1. From the verb - to reach out.

2. N.f. - stretched out.

3. Post signs: real, present time, owl appearance.

4. Signs of non-fasting: vin pad, unit number, female gender.

5. The embankment (which one?) stretches.

No. 272. 1. Found - founded - founded - founded - founded - founded;

chained - chained - chained - chained - chained - chained;

chewed - chewed - chewed - chewed - chewed - chewed.

2. Vodvori - erected - erected - erected - erected - erected;

implement - implemented - implemented - out of drain - implemented - implemented;

concluded - prisoner - imprisoned - concluded - concluded - concluded;

bake - baked - baked - baked - baked - baked;

transport - transported - transported - transported - transported - transported;

enlighten - enlightened - enlightened - enlightened - enlightened - enlightened;

dedicate - dedicated - sacred - dedicated - dedicated - dedicated;

decided - decided - decided - decided - decided - decided.

3. Restore - restored - restored - restored - restored - restored;

add - added - added - added - added - added;

before drinking - to finish drinking - finishing - finishing - finishing - finishing - finishing;

memorized - memorized - memorized - memorized - memorized - memorized;

cut off - cut off - cut off wife - cut off wife - cut off - cut off wife;

provide - provided for - provided for - provided for - provided for - provided for.

No. 273. In “Onegin” all parts are organically articulated; within the chosen frame of his novel, Pushkin has exhausted his entire idea, and therefore not a single part in it can be changed or replaced.

“A Hero of Our Time” represents several frames embedded in one large frame, which consists of the title of the novel and the unity of the hero. The parts of this novel are arranged in accordance with internal necessity;

but how they are only individual cases from the life of even the same person, they could be replaced by others, for instead of an adventure in the fortress with Bela or in Taman, there could be similar ones in other places, and with other persons, although with the same hero. But nevertheless, the author’s main idea gives them unity, and the commonality of their impression is amazing.

No. 274. Wounded soldier - wounded soldier;

sifted flour - sown grain;

boiled water - boiled milk;

painted floor - painted fence;

mown or unmown clover - mown grass;

shot sparrow - shot bird;

frightened crow - frightened crow;

slaked or quicklime - extinguished fire;

woven tablecloth - woven carpet;

burnt coffee - burnt letter;

smoked sausage - smoked walls;

spoiled child - spoiled child - a girl spoiled by her parents;

forged sword - unforged iron - constrained movements;

bobbed boy - polka-dot hair - cropped head;

distilled water;

lined notebook;

paved street.

Well-mannered - a pupil;

boiled - dumpling;

butter - Maslenitsa;

messenger - messenger.

No. 275. The day was gray and windy. There are desert stubble and arable fields all around. The small, completely empty room, papered with white, was light, smelled of oil paint, and on the shiny painted floor there were two Chinese vases against the wall. Full-weight logs were used for the stables, sheds and kitchens, designed to stand for centuries... With a desperate cry, Nikita threw himself on the floor. The sailor liked the smart boy. His nanny met him in the entryway and hugged her pupil with tears. What is a stationmaster?

A real martyr of the fourteenth grade. The hall and living room were dark.

Ivan Ilyich and Dasha settled on a farm in a tarred hut. Alek unwrapped the rag and took out a blued watch. His unkempt hair fell in waves over his eyes. The house had high rooms with whitewashed walls and unpainted floors. I will never forget this fabulous walk among tall pines on sand mixed with pine needles. The candle was extinguished. The steppe was deserted and terribly quiet.

No. 276. Sometimes I caught him at moments when he was not reading;

The glasses hung lower on the aquiline nose, the blue half-closed eyes looked with some special expression, and the lips smiled sadly. The room is quiet;

All you can hear is his regular breathing and the striking of the clock with the huntsman. On the other wall hung land maps, all almost torn, but skillfully glued by the hand of Karl Ivanovich. On the third wall, in the middle of which there was a door down, on one side hung two rulers: one was cut up, ours, the other was brand new, his own, used by him more for encouragement than for ruling, on the other was a black board.

In the middle of the room stood a table covered with torn black oilcloth, from under which in many places one could see the edges, torn by pocket knives. Around the table there were several stools, unpainted but varnished from long use.

The last wall was occupied by three windows. This was the view from them: right under the windows there was a road on which every pothole, every pebble, every rut had long been familiar and dear to me;

behind the road there is a trimmed linden alley, from behind which in some places a wicker picket fence can be seen;

A meadow is also visible across the alley.

No. 277. To grow fierce - becoming fierce;

shout - shouting;

rumble - rumble;

preach - preaching;

manage - in charge;

tor to moss - braking;

look in - looking in;

acknowledge - acknowledging;

squeal - squeal;

mark - marking;

throw - throwing;

murmur - murmur;

chirp - chirp;

worry - worrying.

Run, protect, beat, be, write, freeze.

Take out - take out;

dispel - dispelling;

develop - having developed;

weakened - weakened;

become weak - become weak;

touch - touching;

lock - lock;

renounce - having renounced;

meet - having met;

take away - taking away;

rake out - raked out;

for puffing - out of breath;

sit down - crouching down;

to run away - to run away;

stay - staying, weave - weaving.

Save, harness.

No. 278. As soon as it was light I got up and, quickly drinking tea, set off on my way. Having chosen a dry sandy shore somewhere, I ordered the boat to moor to it. He began to descend from under the clouds in large spiral circles and, sitting calmly on the ground, immediately calmed down the argument and fight between the crows, beginning to eat the rest of the fish himself. The offended crows sat around, croaking, not daring to approach the stern king, and only occasionally snatched small pieces from behind. Leaving the village of Nikolskaya, I swam down the river. But whose burning fires present a magnificent picture. Wriggling like a snake, a fiery stream runs and suddenly, meeting masses drier and tall grass, flares up with a bright flame and again moves further in a narrow ribbon. Having risen at sunrise and indicating the direction in which to go, my friend and I set off ahead.

Removed - verb.

1. N.f. - calm down.

2. Posting signs: owl species, 1 spr, transition, non-return.

3. Signs of non-fasting: will express the number, unit number, past time, husband gender.

4. He (did what?) calmed down.

Having accepted is a gerund.

1. From the verb to accept.

2. Owl species.

3. Immutability.

4. Calmed down (how?) by starting...

No. 279. Having reached the river, we made a halt. While sailing in a boat, travelers saw many birds along the banks of the river. Noticing boats and people from all sides, a herd of wild goats scattered.

When getting ready for the hike, the guys carefully thought through all the details of the trip. Approaching the station, passengers became worried and began to pack their things. Picking up speed, the train quickly approached the mountain pass.

No. 280. |Left alone|, she went to the window and stood in front of it, |looking out onto the street|. Someone's footsteps shuffled in the hallway, the mother shuddered and, raising her eyebrows tensely, stood up. |Smiling|, she listened to the conversation in the room. He walked |staggering and still supporting his head with the palm of his left hand|, and |pulling his brown mustache with his right|. He walked slowly, |kicking his feet firmly into the ground|. Little Fedya, |listening to the reading|, silently moved his lips, |exactly repeating the words of the book|, and his friend bent over, |putting his elbows on his knees| and |propping his cheekbones with his palms|, he smiled thoughtfully. The mother, |trying not to make noise with the dishes|, poured tea and listened to the girl’s smooth speech. The crowd of soldiers shuddered and dissolved, like two halves of a wooden gate;

|dancing and snorting|, horses rode between them, and the officer’s cry was heard.

No. 281. I started laughing more than once while watching the comedy “The Inspector General.”

While reading the play, images of the characters appeared in front of me. Watching such a production, one immediately comes to the conclusion about life outside the walls of the Kostylevo doss house. Arriving from the city, Davydov encountered a number of difficulties. Having deprived the population of shelter, the Nazis destroyed many cities and villages. Entering the firehouse, we felt the heat. Petya cheered up when he heard about the intelligence.

1. Creative process- a complicated thing.

2. Nekrasov’s poem “Uncompressed Strip”.

3. Retelling and conclusion of Isakovsky.

4. Analysis of the poem “Uncompressed Strip”.

The creative process is an immeasurably more complex thing than the ability to standardly use the so-called rules of composition.

Here I would like to give one example. I will refer to Nekrasov’s famous poem “The Uncompressed Strip”. As you remember, its content is as follows: late autumn has arrived, and there is still an uncompressed peasant strip in the field. It is not compressed because its owner overstrained himself at work and became seriously ill.

I described this event quite accurately, but in my transmission it still makes absolutely no impression.

[IN in this case I did it on purpose, I did it in order] (so that 2. 3.

show), (how much depends on the poet, on that spiritual poetic 4.

sky “contribution”), (which he makes to the vital material underlying the work.), (to...), (how...), (which...).

Now let's see how Nekrasov perceived this same event and conveyed it to the reader...

From the very first lines, some kind of aching pain grabs your heart, although at first you may not even know why the poet began his conversation. You are overcome with pity for this lonely peasant strip, which “both the storm and the hare trample, and the storms ruin.”

And the further you read, the more tangible, the brighter the image of the Russian peasant, crushed by poverty and backbreaking work, appears before you, and not only the image of this particular peasant, who is spoken of in the poem, but also the image of all those like him, the image of the then village , forced, poor, ruined, dark...

The thing is that Nekrasov, behind a seemingly ordinary insignificant fact, saw much Furthermore, which can be seen upon superficial examination. With the light of his poetic talent, he penetrated into it and illuminated those sides of it that were invisible at first glance. He found in his heart such moving, such heartfelt poetic words that one cannot help but believe them. These were words, deeply felt, endured words, if you like, hard-won. These were the only irreplaceable words with the help of which it was possible to say with the greatest completeness and persuasiveness what Nekrasov wanted to say (reasoning, artistic style).

No. 283. Distilled, compose, combine, next, future of the country, knowledgeable, cancel the results, appeal, animated, scholarship, colloquium, sensation, sensational report, selection, selection.

Calmly - adverb.

1. Adverb of manner of action.

2. Passed (how?) calmly.

On the right is an adverb.

1. Adverb of place.

2. I heard (where?) on the right.

Not high - adverb.

1. Adverb of place.

2. It stood (where?) low.

Again - adverb.

1. Adverb of manner of action.

2. It started (how?) again.

In autumn - an adverb.

1. Adverb of manner of action.

2. Crimson (how?) in autumn.

Calm, on the right, low, anew, like autumn.

No. 285. The sea is agitated. The hunter excitedly talked about his encounter with the bear. The child is frightened by an unexpected shot. The child screamed in fear. Everything in this matter is weighed and thought out.

The speaker answered questions slowly and thoughtfully. The performance was organized by the school's drama club. The performance was very organized, according to a strict plan. My friend is a comprehensively developed person. On sidings, near scattered carriages where railway workers temporarily lived, children are digging in the sand. Perhaps I acted very rashly.

No. 286. The horses shied away and rushed to gallop. Filofey swung his hand several times. It was well after midnight. She opened the window wide. Black clouds that completely covered the sky were quietly scattering fine rain. Peter fell backwards. The last carriage passed by and rolled away. Anna Sergeevna recently got married. The sky was already breathing in autumn. And she began to feel unable to argue.

No. 287. To the left was a gloomy forest, to the right was the Yenisei. Look, a storm is rising from the left. The Russian population has long lived on the White Sea. Again the clouds gathered above me in the heights. Circumstances once separated them for a long time. Take care of your honor from a young age. Kirill Petrovich simply stopped by the house of his old friend. It began to get dark again;

the middle brother went to get ready. The living room and hall were filled with guests every day. Katya had enough time to think until she was full. Neva was definitely asleep;

From time to time, as if half asleep, she will splash a light wave on the shore and fall silent. Representatives of the hostile side behaved defiantly at the conference. He looked at me and raised his hand threateningly. The audience warmly applauded the singer.

No. 288. Don’t tell anyone, don’t contact anyone, don’t go anywhere;

don’t ask anyone, don’t depend on anyone, don’t receive letters from anywhere;

there is no one to replace, no one to send with, no place to place it;

there is nothing to talk about, nothing to argue about, no need to worry in vain;

there is no one to call, no one to expect a telegram from;

no place to call on the phone, don't worry at all, don't worry at all, don't worry at all, buy a few books, never lose heart, don't lose heart for anything, don't hide anything.

No. 289. Night has fallen. No one closed their sleepless eyes in the city.

The Oblomovites did not receive the latest news from anywhere, and there was no place to receive it. He could not arouse sympathy in anyone.

Several skinny willow trees timidly descend along its sandy sides. Looks sad, nothing to say. At no time does Kolotovka present a pleasant sight. He was once a coachman. I was left with nothing, nothing to do with it. But rocks, and secret shallows, and storms are nothing to him. The rains sometimes fell in torrents, but did not cool the atmosphere at all.

No. 290. Anna Sergeevna was a rather strange creature. Having no prejudices, not even having any strong beliefs, she did not retreat from anything and did not go anywhere. She saw a lot clearly, a lot occupied her, and nothing completely satisfied her, and she hardly wanted complete satisfaction. Her mind was inquisitive and indifferent at the same time;

her doubts never subsided to the point of forgetfulness and never grew to the point of anxiety. If she had not been rich and independent, she might have rushed into battle and would have recognized passion.

But life was easy for her, although she was sometimes bored, and she continued to pass day after day, slowly and only occasionally worrying.

, (although...2), and .

Rainbow colors sometimes lit up before her eyes, but 2. 3.

she rested when they faded and did not regret them.

But, (when...3).

Her imagination even went beyond the limits of what is considered permissible according to the laws of ordinary morality;

but even then her blood still flowed quietly in her charmingly slender and calm body.

No. 291. Fyodor Fedorovich said something to the soldier in German. A fine, autumn-cold rain was drizzling. She only really liked Telegin. The sky is cloudless in spring, and the steppe shines dazzlingly. Little by little it got dark. Grechkin spoke meaningfully, okaya in the Volga language. The coachmen whistled across the steppe, and the well-fed troikas took off at a gallop. Pechorin turned slightly pale and turned away. The ship is still rocking. The boatswain still acted in his own way. German, willy-nilly, agreed to be my assistant. Olga has no life in her features, just like Van Dick’s Madonna. Somewhere, once upon a time, long, long ago, I read a poem. He intended, firstly, to concentrate all the artillery in the center, and secondly, to transfer the cavalry back to the other side of the ravine. The moon rose, covered with a crimson cloud, and barely illuminated the road.

No. 292. Live in a new way, remember firmly, speak face to face, do things point to point, bother in vain, waste time, go somewhere, know a little bit, do things topsy-turvy, to arrive unexpectedly, to advance step by step, to arrive on time, to give out the coal to the mountain, to agree in the end, to distribute equally, to make the floor better and more beautiful, toss and turn from side to side, today, apparently, it will rain.

No. 293. Remember forever, postpone until the day after tomorrow, put off until tomorrow, live opposite, see through, reduce to nothing, save until now, fold in half, divide in two, go one at a time, think in your own way, sail in two, increase little by little, say in the heat of the moment, fight hand to hand, end in a draw, act openly, decide in general, speak in general.

Heard from above, jump up, look up.

Approach from below, go down, visible below.

Run ahead, overtake in front, know in advance.

Hit from the side, turn from side to side.

No. 295. They rush upward, dive deep, look into the distance, move in breadth, stand around, never hit, don’t understand at first, will hit again.

No. 296. Remember forever, forever, sign up the day before, come immediately, run after, smash to smithereens, burn to the ground, contact a friend, prepare quietly, look from under your brows, hit on the sly, grab in the armful, look point blank, count on for sure, count in a row, jump off on the go, shoot on the fly, ask one at a time, get ready early in the morning, get completely exhausted, do it in revenge, buy like hot cakes, need to be desperate, work tirelessly, dance until you drop, fill to capacity.

No. 297. Figure it out by eye, by eye, smash it to smithereens, laugh at it, rear up, attack with a bang, add in conclusion, say in mockery, taste it, learn it by heart, do a great job.

No. 298. Potemkin folded the paper in half, four, eight times, aiming for some final, already indivisible fraction. One of the girls was skipping along the highway, going down to the sea. And so I thought, she would hit the shore with a bang and break into pieces. The clip had already run out, and the shutter was clicking in vain. Following the vehicles, infantry scattered up the mountain. The three of us sat in the tent: Marya Ivanovna with Palashka and me. Sometimes he himself got into trouble, like a simpleton.

Think first, then answer. It has been raining continuously since the beginning of spring. How beautiful the forest is in early autumn! At first I did not feel the peculiar beauty of the mountain landscape. During the trip to Elbrus, the excursionists admired the stormy Baksan and the wonderful mountains. Everyone arrived on time, no one was late. It was so beautiful all around that everyone fell silent and looked forward and upward with delight. How many kilometers did the climbers climb without rest? The birch tree leaned to one side. The endless fields of the Kuban stretched far and wide. The convoys moved into the foggy distance. Despite the end of September, it was summer-like warmth near Moscow.

The travelers finally reached the river. The boy stared at me.

No. 299. Small houses sleep soundly. I set up a shelf with a group of books, read, read, but to no avail. We got home in no more than half an hour, but all the time talking about the fears we had experienced.

The water roars incessantly. The wind has already been sowing the aspen for the third day, and the earth tirelessly demands more and more seeds. Romashov looked gloomily to the side, and it seemed to him that no force would force him to move his eyes. Pavel decided to ford the next river.

Onegin never boasted of his postal friendship with me, and I, a happy man, have never corresponded with anyone. Yellow, half-withered willows, inclined exactly to the right and left on both sides of the road, went into the distance, crossing the hills. Being strong is good, being smart is twice as good.

No. 300. The sun had reached its climax in the sky and was scorching with might and main. Varya walked halfway through the village without any results and, completely upset, turned back. The guests began to disperse, but few wandered back home: many remained to spend the night with the captain in the wide courtyard. The owner's eyes are needed everywhere: he will instantly notice something. Alexander became thoughtful and spoke in a low voice, as if to himself. The tree grew almost close to the rock. The sailors moved like a seaman - a little waddle, with a special daring inherent only to them. The birds chirped somehow discordantly. One of the young men has a fur coat with a cape covering the top of his green caftan. Uncle Mizgir lay stretched out and dozed. The old man flatly refused yesterday. The owls flew low, curled like a wheel, darting to the ground with their wings.

No. 301. Secretly, Firsov wished that the journey would last forever. They somehow began to treat him more familiarly. We have had it since ancient times that honor is given to father and son. Frosty morning in the steppe. Everyone vied with each other in praising his courage, intelligence, and generosity. In the morning, the bright sun that rose quickly ate up the thin ice that covered the water... I have never heard the whistle of bullets in my life. The order was to move forward and to the left. The soldiers began to run across, two by two and one by one, to the next ditch, which stretched towards the oat field. I looked at his oval pale face from the side. The sea was still calm. It’s scary, scary involuntarily among the unknown plains. This medicine must be taken on an empty stomach. He chanted his iambic tetrameters. The elephant was led through the streets, apparently for show. There was a front garden in front and a garden in the back.

Don't dive deep: you'll drown. The gray strip of road went away from the river into the depths of the steppe.

No. 302. He walked around the garden with Arkady and explained to him why other trees, especially oaks, did not grow. Fruit trees near the buildings were burning, making the smoke especially thick and black.

Where he left is what he came to. He was gloomy not only because he himself was forced to stay, but also because because of him his mother and sister were left. And the heart burns again and loves because it cannot help but love. From someone who is not nice, the gift is hateful. “Why should I go to the right?” - the driver asked with displeasure. There were people all around, so they said goodbye with restraint. It is easier to walk along this bank than along that one. Why bother you? I'll settle down somewhere. A wise person sees what follows. The painter and his companion greedily drank cold kvass and then continued the conversation. Azamat, a boy of about fifteen, got into the habit of visiting us every day, sometimes for one thing or another.

No. 303. Primitive, principled, radical, rational, revolutionary, regular, reasonable, rhythmic, sentimental, solidary, spontaneous, subjective, tragic, traditional, energetic, effective.

No. 304. Today we had the opportunity to observe a shadow segment of the earth in the east. The evening dawn shimmered with especially bright colors. At first it was pale, then it became emerald green, and against this green background, like diverging pillars, two light yellow circles rose from the horizon. After a few minutes the rays disappeared. Green color the dawn turned orange and then red.

The most recent phenomenon was that the crimson-red horizon became dark as if from smoke. Simultaneously with sunset, a shadow segment of the earth appeared in the east. One end of it touched the northern horizon, the other - the southern. Outer edge 1. 2.

this shadow was purple;

the lower the sun went, the higher it was 3.

the shadow segment rose. ;

Soon the purple stripe merged with the red dawn in the west, and 2.

then it came dark night. , And .

In the evening we sat for a long time by the fire. In the morning we got up early. We were tired during the day, and therefore, as soon as we had dinner, we immediately went to bed.

Our pre-dawn sleep was somehow heavy. I felt languor and weakness of movement throughout my whole body. Reluctantly we ate and reluctantly sailed on.

No. 305. We composed her song in an ancient way. Is the sable hat wrinkled? Has your treasury been spent? Or has the tempered saber become jagged? Or was the horse lame, poorly shod? First, bow to the clever matchmaker and send precious gifts to your Alena Dmitrievna. The wide living room was deserted. In front of him stands a young wife, herself pale, bare-haired, her brown braids unbraided with snow and frost sprinkled with snow. How I will lock you behind an iron castle, behind an oak door bound. His falcon eyes are burning, they are looking intently at the guardsman. And you spoke the true truth: they will sing a memorial service for one of us, and no later than tomorrow at noon. And Stepan Paramonovich thought: what is destined to happen will come true, but I stand for the truth to the last! Order me to be executed - and my little head will be put on the chopping block. I command your brothers from this very day throughout the wide Russian kingdom to trade freely, duty-free. And they executed Stepan Kalashnikov with a cruel, shameful death;

and the mediocre little head, covered in blood, rolled onto the chopping block. And they walk, the violent winds rustle over his nameless grave.

No. 306. From the ocher-painted cornice, an intricate inscription made by a painter looked out onto the street. Slavic writing. Hemp seeds were sprinkled on the painted floor in one of the corners year after year. Next to the house door stood a tub of pickled apples. The inside windows were tightly covered with sackcloth and the shutters were closed. Hobbled horses were grazing in the meadows. The Carpathians are deserted and sad on a windy autumn evening. The evening was windless and hot. Mother was sitting in the living room and pouring tea. Dasha was sitting in a wicker chair.

She was wearing a knitted blouse and a blue skirt. Agafya, although she stopped following Liza, remained in the house and often saw her pupil. We all read, we all love holiday books written by scientists. Menshin suddenly twisted the starter handle with furious force. The car jerked. Telegin leaned back on the leather seat. Unloaded mines were stored in numerous sheds scattered along the shore. Many mushrooms grew in the ruts of the untrodden road. The huge flywheel was spinning madly.

No. 307. At the meeting of young track and field athletes organized in the summer, several records were set. The competition was well organized. The participants arrived and left in a very orderly manner. A commission was formed to investigate the causes of the fire. The commission formed to investigate the causes of the fire began its work. Olga Ilyinskaya was smart and educated. The estate is bordered on both sides by the river. Bounded on both sides by a river, the estate was located in a beautiful wooded area. The replacement answered the examiners' questions calmly and thoughtfully. The conduct of the tourist trip was thought out from all points of view. The orphan girl was raised in an orphanage. Many of the children raised in the orphanage then entered higher education institutions. The students recalled their mentors with deep gratitude.

No. 308. In the night (vin pad), for the shores (rod pad), at the seaside (rod pad), on the oak tree (predl pad), to the heavens (dat pad), towards the rays (dat pad), towards the unit (dat pad ), with her (predl pad), thanks to you (dat pad).

Derivative prepositions formed from: 1) adverbs (toward);

2) nouns (toward);

3) verbs (thanks).

No. 309. Miss your hometown, wander through the park and grove, climb the stairs, come after graduating from college, return after construction is completed, inquire upon arrival in the capital, tell after returning from a business trip, buy twenty-three notebooks each, enroll contrary to desire, act contrary to advice, leave according to instructions, achieve good harvest thanks to the correct cultivation of the fields, go out to meet the participants of the race, sing like a nightingale.

No. 310. Between business and leisure, she discovered the secret of how to autocratically rule a spouse. Among the mountaineers, the prisoner observed their faith, morals, and upbringing. I am always glad to notice the difference between Onegin and me. The prince turned into a fly, flew and landed between the sea and heaven on a ship - and climbed into the crack. Don't worry about your sweet dreams. He missed his uncle. The moon is creeping across the sky.

Somewhere a country road winds its way in a whimsical twist, and a cart gallops briskly along it. After graduating from university, he went to work in the village. Upon arrival at the place, we went to the commandant. After the expiration of his leave, he returned to the plant. All the houses were built the same way: the façade faced south, each facade had ten windows, each west had six windows, the east also had six, and the back, on the north side, had four windows. According to the instructions of the army headquarters, the detachment was supposed to move to the Dvina. We traveled five hundred and sometimes six hundred kilometers a day. They will see each other, they will spend several hours together every day. Thanks to Gottlieb Schultz's open disposition, they soon began to talk amicably. In St. Petersburg, despite his own wishes, he was lucky. Thanks to the mass of new impressions, the day passed unnoticed for Kashtanka.

No. 311. Due to the expected frosts, the palm trees were removed from the orange rhea. Due to repairs to the railway track, the train arrived late. Thanks to the driver's courage and self-control, the accident was averted. Part of the embankment was flooded due to the rapid rise of water. In view of the upcoming tournament, the chess players trained intensively. Thanks to proper treatment and attentive care, the patient soon recovered.

No. 312. Absent from classes for a week;

observe changes in the flow of the river;

not to go for a walk because of the rain;

leave, but subsequently return to their hometown.

Far from behind the trees, from behind the branches, from behind the foliage, a song came.

A steamer emerged from behind the cape, cutting through the waves. Yellow, nimble lights burst out from under the bluish smoke. There was a rustling sound in the little garden behind the tyne. From under the collar of the coat the stand-up collars of the shirt showed white. The garden is blooming over the Don. Who did he mean? I meant yesterday's incident. Instead of nine o'clock in the morning we left at two. The walls were painted with some kind of blue paint, like gray. During May, northeastern winds blew more often. There were no thunderstorms during August. Having agreed about tomorrow, they said goodbye. Due to some delay on the way, the horses fell behind. I subsequently learned that the flood was not the only reason for our delay. Many Russian rivers, like the Volga, have one mountain bank and the other meadow. For a whole hour we observed green lights in the water. For fifteen minutes the enemy did not respond.

No. 313. The dark thundercloud has already gone far and taken the thunderstorm with it. Night had already fallen on the mountains, and fog began to wander through the gorges. Gavrila was drenched in sweat, but continued to row with all his might. The sun has set, but it is still light in the forest. The wind alternately howled dully and whistled gustily. When the fog rushed to the west, the caravan was making its scheduled journey. To prevent water from flooding the fire, we had to put more wood in the fires. If grandfather left home, grandmother would arrange the most interesting meetings in the kitchen.

No. 314. We put chains under the wheels instead of brakes to prevent them from rolling. To eat fish. We have to get into the water. No matter what they say, I will do this job. We had to wait for the mules at all costs. He certainly wanted to become a hero and for this he was ready to do anything, the most terrible thing, no matter what was offered to him. Vasilek wanted to be the first to tell his brother everything at all costs. Didn’t he plow and sow for the same reason, so that the autumn wind would blow us away? Be careful, godfather, not to disgrace yourself. Apparently, the moose are accustomed to the fact that they can come out here at any time of the day or night to bask on the cool seashore, where there are no annoying blood-sucking insects.

The village of Shchipachi is changing, but the month is also drowning in the shallow river, and the keys also give it strength, and the boys drink from the ladle of their palms.

My companions also examined the shore, but they had something completely different in mind. If the oak and black birch chose the southern slopes of the mountains, perhaps it went down lower, where the layers of alluvial soil were thicker;

but at the same time she avoided other trees that could shade her from the sun. I leaned towards the river, but there, and in this dark, cold depth, the stars also swayed and trembled. "Yes OK!" - she answered just as quietly, not looking at me. There were about a hundred mackerel entangled in the mesh of the net, but I also caught one very strange fish that I had never seen before. Various flowers exactly in time are revealed in different watches in the morning and close in the same way in the evening. The enterprises stood silent, quiet and also empty. He was silent for a second, his mother looked at him also silently. Pavel Ivanovich’s people also liked the village. They, just like him, settled into it.

What thieves get away with, they beat the thieves for. This beast has enormous strength and excellent charm, but its vision and hearing are rather poorly developed. A gun is a noble thing, the most interesting amusement, and, moreover, a pleasant decoration in the room. This quarrel ended with both sides turning to my arbitration court, and trying to outshout each other. Take on what you are passionate about, if you want your business to have a successful end. Like the wind, his song is free, but like the wind, it is fruitless.

So, one desire for benefit made me print excerpts from a magazine that I got by chance. Elusive images wandered in her soul, arousing in her either pity or bewilderment. For some reason, Lisa was left with a completely clear impression that Tsvetukhin said these words in a whisper.

No. 315. All around, wherever you look, there is southern luxury of nature, and roses and geraniums. Platoons occupied the firing line. The coachman walked around with nothing to do, straightening out the harness. He who has bile in his mouth, everything is bitter. A day earlier you sow, a week earlier you reap. Eat bread and salt, but tell the truth. Sighs and soft crying were heard behind the door. From a distance, one could distinguish alder thickets from birch and pine groves by the color of the greenery. The heavy air was smelly and unsettling.

Aksinya went to close the gate that was left wide open. They didn’t dare chase us; we managed to reach the shores and went into the forest. The fish didn’t say anything, it just splashed its tail in the water. The officer rushed backwards. There is never a dull moment while traveling. You get so busy during the day that you can barely drag yourself to the bivouac.

No. 316. Is it an interrogative particle;

not - negative particle;

already - an intensifying particle;

here is an index particle;

as - exclamation particle;

what the - exclamation particle;

ni - reinforcing particle;

even - an intensifying particle;

really - interrogative particle;

only - restrictive particle;

same - an intensifying particle.

No. 317. After all, there were combat fights, yes, they say, some more. He opened the door for me, I entered the spacious room and what did I see?

His essays are as brief as they are sharp. Go and bring the light to seal the letter. “Neighbor, stop being ashamed,” Shavka tells her. - Should you bother with the Elephant? There is nothing in the world that could cover the Dnieper. “Exactly so,” said Peter.

Where are they going, to the city, or what? So your brother came to you?..

Let me rock Mitya. The weather has been quite damp in recent days. “What if, sister, with such beauty, you are a master of singing, because you would be our king bird!” A petition from the sheep came into the order: “That the wolves are completely tearing the skin off us.” But the novel is still good. It's time to rest. Little Seryozha, as soon as he woke up, immediately climbed to the window to see if the starlings had arrived. “Gossip, this is strange to me: did you work all summer?” How many dry days must pass so that the consumer of nature does not scold nature for a rainy summer? There is no thought that cannot be expressed simply and clearly.

No. 318 - orally.

No. 319. She was far from beautiful. Dasha said firmly:

“I don’t think we have anything to talk about.” Pursing his lips, Ivan Ilyich nodded. He couldn't breathe. To the right, a yellow, unblinking star stood not high above the wooded hills. Without a hint of timidity, he walked leisurely into the boss’s office. Without hearing an answer, Pechorin took several steps towards the door. Only Grigory Alexandrovich, despite the rain and fatigue, did not want to return. Oblomov is not a stupid, apathetic nature, without aspirations and feelings, but a person who is also looking for something in his life, thinking about something.

Not stormy, impetuous force, but, on the contrary, gentleness and some kind of ethical moderation serve as characteristic features of his talent. With Filofey came his two brothers, who were not at all like him. Bolshov is not a strong character at all. Pavel Petrovich is not a very stupid person. Dawn arises in extraordinary silence. This is not a real forest, this is a fairy forest. The sailors had difficulty coping with the mechanism, which was unfamiliar to them. We lift the net and instead of expensive salmon we pull out a guinea pig, which is completely unnecessary. One hundred and sixty-seven people were missing from the Svetlana crew. She didn’t listen to the end and walked away. This is an experienced man, with his own mind, neither evil nor kind, but more calculating.

Here is the moon: it is not dim, not pale, not brooding, not foggy, like ours, but pure, transparent, like crystal. Pechorin was not healthy for a long time, he lost weight, poor thing. Anatole was not resourceful, not quick and not eloquent, but he did have the ability of calm and unchangeable confidence, precious for the world. I’m not rich, I’m not an official, and I’m not his age at all. The expression of this gaze was very vague, but not mocking. She began to sing: her voice is not bad. She was not hasty, not cold, not talkative, without an insolent look for everyone, without pretensions to success...

No. 320. In the morning I did not feel well, although I still could not clearly determine what my ill health was. We had a leisurely conversation among ourselves. The sun was not cloudy as in the evening, but bright, having rested during the night. Tears appeared in her eyes, not timid, not bitter, but proud, angry tears. An elderly and rather beautiful woman brought in a small samovar. The stranger, when they saw him, turned out to be a man of about thirty, ugly and unremarkable in appearance. His face was the same as always - neither smart nor stupid. The dim light was burning outside the window and could not go out. An irritability that had never before appeared in his character. Every word, even the slightest rudeness, indelicately spoken, worries me. The nightingale was no longer in the evening, abrupt and hesitant manner, but in the night, leisurely, calmly pouring out over the entire garden. The young gymnasts performed the required exercises far from flawlessly. Rainy days are very unpleasant for me. The hut was no good. Our choir was small, but wonderful. Davydov walked slowly, but with wide steps. Each bell spoke differently: distance reduced only the strength, but not the clarity of the sound. The sun burned like yesterday, the air was still and dull. To the right and left of the gazebo stretched uneven clayey banks.

No. 321. Above, Stozhary smoldered like an unextinguished fire. All the sailors not on watch went out onto the upper deck. Memories are not yellowed letters, not old age, not dried flowers and relics, but a living, trembling world full of poetry. Only one strip is not compressed. Someone knocked on the invisible, carpeted door. The sun was rising. Not yet visible to the eye, it spread a transparent fan of pink rays across the sky... Slava chose a special occupation for himself, independent of anyone - hunting. Telegin composed the unread letter. The mother ran out of the entryway with her head uncovered. The sun, bright but not warming, looked coldly from the height of the sky. Pavel raised his head and looked at Sukharko with a look that did not promise anything good. A sharp cry escaped my still fragile throat. Podkhalyuzin is a smart man and not at all attached to his master. For him, the general situation of life, independent of any of the characters, is always in the foreground. A poor girl who has not received a broad theoretical education, who does not know everything that is going on in the world, who does not even have a good understanding of her own needs, cannot, of course, give herself an idea of ​​what she needs. The team dispersed, perplexed and amazed. The houses had not been plastered for a long time, the roofs were not painted... The doors of the dacha were not locked.

No. 322. Everything was full of sad and sweet, inexplicable spring charm. He sang some song I didn't know...

My friends, our union is wonderful! He, like a soul, is indivisible and eternal.

Levin, unnoticed by the people, continued to lie on the haystack, and watch, and listen, and think. All his actions, big and small, are inexplicable. Both friends were the same age, but there was an immeasurable difference between them in everything. The silence, undisturbed by either movement or sound, is especially striking. Prince Andrey could be thinking about another subject, completely independent of general issues - about his regiment. Candles, not lit on other days, cast a bright light throughout the room. Raisky, without moving, looked, unnoticed by anyone, at this entire scene. We will not exhaust the source of knowledge. Soroka walked at random, guided by the wind and some signs that were imperceptible to an unfamiliar person. The princess is cold;

That night the frost was unbearable. What precision and certainty in every word, how in place and irreplaceable every word is! The depth of Chekhov's works is inexhaustible for a thoughtful, sensitive actor.

No. 323. Efim Andreevich’s conversation was important, unhurried and full of content. I became more and more convinced that this was far from an ordinary artist. Sometimes he imagined himself as a famous traveler... He discovered yet unexplored lands. Strange sensations that were not clear to him worried him. A whirlwind, not cold, but warm, hit the trees, the walls, the street. The garden is especially nice, small but dense and pleasantly intricate. The old manor's estate stood on a low but noticeable hill. Raisky considered himself not the latest, that is, not young, but by no means a backward person. Behind the mounds in the east lay a yellowish haze, unlike either smoke or dust.

There’s no need to remember the past,” Bazarov objected, “and as for the future, there’s no point in worrying about it either, because I intend to sneak away immediately.” Let me bandage your leg now, your wound is not dangerous, but it’s better to stop the bleeding.

Pavel Petrovich tried not to look at Bazarov, he still did not want to make peace with him: he was ashamed of his arrogance, his failure, ashamed of the whole business he had started. The silence lasted, heavy and awkward. Both were not feeling well. Each of them realized that the other understood him. This consciousness is pleasant to friends, and very unpleasant to enemies.

Did I tie your leg too tightly? - Bazarov finally asked.

No. 325 - orally.

No. 326. She was far from beautiful, but I also have my own prejudices about beauty. The ignorant judge exactly this way: whatever is of no use, then everything is nothing to them. You eagerly listen to the songs of antiquity, and the magical legends of knightly times - the unrealizable dreams of mocking flatterers. Now the deception disappears and you begin to see that it is not the bridge that is moving, but the river. Didn't you take glory for yourself? It rained almost every day, accompanied by lightning and such thunderclaps that the whole house shook. No matter how beautiful Shiraz is, it is no better than the expanses of Ryazan. It was a puppy with a white forehead, slowly, walking, returning to his winter hut. I remembered my previous misfortunes, but I find in my soul neither ambition, nor compassion, nor tears, nor fiery passions. I didn’t see my beauty anywhere, nor that man.

Seeing that the bad weather was becoming protracted, I decided to move on, regardless of the bad weather. No matter how hard I strained my vision, I could not see him. In heavy formation, the wheat listens to the ringing of silence. Neither wind, nor hail, nor birds are afraid of the ears of corn. There was not a single cloud in the sky, but there was an excess of moisture in the air. When there are a lot of midges, you cannot remove the net from your face for a minute.

Everywhere you look there are hills and the same vegetation everywhere. During the whole day we did not see a single animal, although we came across many goat and deer tracks. No matter how small the rain, it will always soak you down to the last thread. Dersu has not changed or aged at all. It's too far to the shore;

no swimmer could reach it. Pechorin was not the only one who admired the pretty princess.

More than once I have seen these deer sludge in the mountains. All these days I have never deviated from my system.

No. 327. Oh, Volga, dear Volga, who doesn’t love your beres 1. 2.

gov! Everywhere you look, there are young faces everywhere (Narrative, non-exclamatory, complex, non-union: 1. Monocomponent, generalized-personal, widespread, complete, uncomplicated;

2. One-part, nominative, common, complete, uncomplicated). , .

Be that as it may, my premonitions turned out to be correct.

No matter how hard his friends tried to get him to know what was wrong, they never found out. Where 1. 2.

2. One-part, impersonal, widespread, complete, uncomplicated). , .

And whatever happened to our wanderers! The boatswains could not help but be friends with me. You sleep until they wake you up. He was considered perhaps the first cavalryman. Almost you yourself tell me about 1.

they were told about this. No matter how hard my father tried to appear calm, I noticed 2. his excitement (Narrative, non-exclamatory, non-conjunctive: 1. Two-part, unextended, complete, uncomplicated;

2. Two-part, common, complete, uncomplicated). , .

Wherever I wandered, they were nowhere to be found. Our brother, the hunter, wherever he goes! Zina and Alexey wandered through the forest for a long time until they came to a large neglected pond. It was impossible not to feel the austere splendor northern nature. Everywhere he goes 1.

he didn’t arrive, they were already waiting for him (Narrative, non-exclamatory, complex: 1. Main, one-part, indefinitely personal, widespread, complete, uncomplicated;

2. Give exact location, two-part, non-extended, complete, uncomplicated). .

The climbers climbed to a mountain peak where no man had ever gone before (Narrative, non-exclamatory, non-union:

1. Two-part, common, complete, uncomplicated;

2. Two-component, common, complete, uncomplicated). , .

Where is such a fortress where bullets wouldn’t fly? I couldn’t help but smile several times while reading the good old man’s letter. Anyone who has not been to the lower reaches of the Lefou River cannot imagine what is happening there.

No. 328. AKAKIY AKAKIEVICH.

When and at what time did he enter the department and who determined 1.

poured it, no one could remember.

When 2 and.

No matter how many directors and various bosses changed, everyone saw him in the same position, in the same position, as the same official for writing... He was not shown in the department 1.

there was no respect for him. The watchmen not only did not get up from 3.2.

places when he passed, but they didn’t even look at him, as if 4.

A simple fly flew through the reception area.

[ 1 ], but [ 2 ] as when 2 seems.

The bosses treated him somehow coldly and despotically. Some assistant to the chief clerk directly shoved papers under his nose, without even saying: “Copy this,” or: “Here’s an interesting, nice little deal,” or something pleasant, as is used in well-bred services. And he took it, looking only at the paper, without looking at who gave it to him and whether he had the right to do so. He took it and immediately set about writing it. The young officials laughed and made jokes at him, as much as their clerical wit was enough... But Akaki Akakievich did not answer a single word to this, as if no one was in front of him;

it didn’t even have an impact on his studies: among all these worries, he didn’t make a single mistake in writing. Only if the joke was too unbearable, when they pushed him by the arm, preventing him from going about his business, he said: “Leave me alone, why are you offending me?”

No. 329. PISAREV ABOUT THE NOVEL “FATHERS AND CHILDREN”.

Turgenev's new novel gives us everything we are used to enjoying in his works. The artistic finishing is immaculately good;

The characters and situations, scenes and pictures are drawn so clearly and at the same time so softly that the most desperate art denier will feel, when reading the novel, some kind of incomprehensible pleasure, which cannot be explained either by the entertaining nature of the events or by the amazing fidelity of the main idea. The fact is that the events are not at all interesting, and the idea is not at all strikingly true. The novel has neither a beginning, nor a denouement, nor a strictly thought-out plan;

there are types and characters, there are scenes and pictures, and most importantly, the author’s personal, deeply felt attitude towards the identified phenomena of life shines through the fabric of the story. And these phenomena are very close to us, so close that all of our young generation with their aspirations and ideas can recognize themselves in characters this novel.

I don’t mean by this that in Turgenev’s novel there are ideas and strem 3.

The beliefs of the younger generation were reflected in the way 4 itself understands them.

younger generation;

Turgenev attributes 5 to these ideas and aspirations.

from their own personal point of view, and the old man and the young man never agree with each other in beliefs and sympathies. But if you go to a mirror, which, reflecting objects, changes their color a little, then you will recognize your physiognomy, despite the errors of the mirror. Reading Turgenev’s novel, we see in it the types of the present moment and at the same time we are aware of the changes that the phenomena of reality have experienced as they pass through the artist’s consciousness. , (to...2), (as...3);

Turgenev’s novel, in addition to its artistic beauty, is also remarkable in that it stirs the mind, provokes thought, although in itself it does not resolve any question and even illuminates with a bright light not so much the phenomena being deduced as the author’s attitude towards these very phenomena. It makes you think precisely because it is completely imbued with the most complete, most touching sincerity. Everything that is written in Turgenev’s last novel is felt right down to the last line.

No. 330. Presidium, privilege of a deputy, Russian intelligentsia, fiction, sentimentalism, romanticism, realism, optimism, innate pessimism, apotheosis play, dithyramb of literature, future prospects, priority, statue, autobiography, examiner, electrify in the shortest possible time , an unshakable postulate.

No. 331. A true lover of northern nature will forever retain indelible impressions of the dense Chuna River. True, he won’t see any eye-catching colors here, but he will remember the tones, imperceptible to an inexperienced eye, for a long time. autumn landscape. What kind of pictures you see here! The shores of Chuna amaze with the diversity of vegetation and the richness of the animal world.

More than once on the way you will come across fallen trees: this work was done by none other than the beaver - a strange animal, a recent settler of these places. You will often see a handsome elk here, swimming across the river in front of an astonished traveler. Having crawled out onto the shore and brushed itself off, the unafraid animal calmly looks at you.

A person who finds himself in these lands is truly happy: forgetting about the gun abandoned in the boat, he never tires of admiring the world revealed before him.

The undisturbed silence and untouched nature attracted me to Chuna, and the days spent there clearly appear in my memory. I remember our small house, spending the night by the fire, the tops of the trees reflected in the water and the whisper-like rustling of their tops. The fire crackles in the hearth made of stones, and nothing is as pleasant as ukha, slightly smelling of smoke.

No. 332. High above the family of mountains, Kazbek, your royal tent shines with eternal rays (Narrative, non-exclamatory, simple, two-part, complete, widespread, uncomplicated). The colorful flags of ships flutter briskly over the Neva. Whoa, the guns burst out! Sing, coachman! I will silently, eagerly listen to your voice. The world is empty. Now where would you take me, ocean? (Interrogative, non-exclamatory, simple, two-part, complete, common, uncomplicated). Closer, oh dear friends, closer let’s form our faithful circle! (Incentive, exclamation, simple, two-part, incomplete, common, uncomplicated). How Tatyana has changed! How firmly she stepped into her role! (Declarative, exclamatory, simple, two-part, incomplete, extended, uncomplicated). Here is the disgraced house where I lived with my poor nanny. Hello, young, unfamiliar tribe! My friend, let’s dedicate our souls to our homeland with wonderful impulses! So, quietly send your grandson with this note to O... to that... to the neighbor... and tell him not to say a word, not to call me...

Lermontov's poem is a courageous, mature creation. What a true picture! What precision in expression! No less excellent is “Cossack Lullaby Song”. Where, where did the poet get these simply stuffy words, this touching tenderness of tone, these meek and soulful sounds, this femininity and charm of expression? Oh, how deeply instructive this story is, how much it shakes the soul!

No. 333. Rozanov and Rainer had a warm, friendly meeting.

Fenechka came in with Mitya in her arms. Two soldiers are sitting on patrol over the cold water. Eight people were sitting at the table. Several fishing boats got lost at sea. Several sailors, under the command of the captain's mate, once went out to sea on this boat.

Several infantry regiments were already lined up in squares on Red Square. Suddenly, many lights flashed under her feet and blinded Lisa. The wounded were being carried from the barge. Some moaned, but most were silent. Most of the passengers were dozing. Several ladies walked quickly back and forth across the site... Humanity moves forward and produces and creates everything.

No. 334. In the village, many dogs greeted us with loud barking. Bazarov and Arkady left the next day. Fenechka was sitting in the gazebo with Dunyasha and Mitya in her arms. Several boats lay on the shore.

A very diverse audience traveled with us. Most of members of the expedition have already been on difficult journeys several times. The crowd resembled the dark swell of the ocean. Most people wanted to do something. A number of circumstances prevented the implementation of the project. About two dozen people rose from there. An abyss of people came running together... and many other similar thoughts passed through my mind... Several hundred people stood behind the fence. Students from all countries arrived at the World Youth Festival.

No. 335. The railing suddenly broke. Severe cold weather set in, and the ice hole on the river froze. The rail bent. The jam had dried out. The jelly has deteriorated. RTS has completed preparations for spring sowing. The ink has dried.

No. 336 - orally.

No. 337. Boris was a tall, blond young man with truthful, delicate features of a calm and handsome face. Nikolai was a short, curly-haired young man with an open expression on his face.

Wherever fate has taken me! I was successively an officer, a land surveyor, a watermelon loader, a brick carrier, and a salesman in Moscow.

No. 338. Water is nothing more than the simplest compound of hydrogen and oxygen. An earthquake is nothing more than the result of sudden changes and ruptures in the earth's crust. The atmosphere is nothing more than the gaseous shell of the Earth.

My compartment neighbor turned out to be none other than an actor in a dramatic theater. The stone found on the sea coast was nothing more than a piece of a meteorite. A canyon is nothing more than a deep gorge with sheer edges.

No. 339. Grushnitsky - cadet. Producing an effect is their pleasure. His goal is to become the hero of a novel. His arrival in the Caucasus is also a consequence of his romantic fanaticism. Solotcha is a winding shallow river. The path in the forests is kilometers of silence and windlessness. The conning tower is the brain of the ship. My occupation is ethnography, the study of the life of Russian people. The heart is not a stone.

The word is the clothing of all facts, all thoughts. The language of literature is an important tool of production for a writer. “Onegin” is Pushkin’s most soulful work, the most beloved child of his imagination... To evaluate such a work means to evaluate the poet himself in the entire scope of his creative activity. The plausibility of situations and the truth of dialogue are the real laws of tragedy. Precision and brevity are the first virtues of prose. Criticism of science - discovering the beauties and flaws in works of art and literature. The first goal of art is to reproduce reality.

No. 340. He did not realize the importance of the assignment entrusted to him and did not complete the task on time. The meeting did not accept the resolution divided solution on the last item on the agenda. On Sunday I won’t be able to fulfill my promise and won’t go to the museum.

The workshop does not accept new orders for equipment. The young athlete did not live up to the hopes placed on him. Without understanding the conditions, the boy did not solve the problem.

No. 341. The swimmer was dissatisfied with his result. The swimmer was disappointed in his result. The teacher was awarded an order. She was awarded a high government award.

An old worker shared his memories. He spoke about the construction of the workshop. An experienced mason taught the audience all the details of labor organization. He talked about making full use of working time.

No. 343. In the poem “Who Lives Well in Rus',” Nekrasov writes in detail about the situation of the post-reform peasantry. Nekrasov describes with deep sympathy the difficult fate of a peasant woman. Arina Petrovna reproached her orphan nieces with every piece of bread. She reproached Pavel Vladimirovich for lack of respect. During the conversation, the interlocutors touched upon a wide variety of issues. They talked about a wide variety of matters.

The mother was worried about the fate of her son. She was worried about his health. The implementation of the project was limited by the lack of necessary funds. Every scientific conclusion must be based on strictly verified facts.

No. 344. The teacher paid a lot of attention to working with lagging students. The terrible heat prevented the normal work of the geological expedition. The girl handled books very carefully. The jar was full of water. Vanya spoke about his impressions from his trip to Moscow.

No. 345. Three enemy horses were immediately taken as spoils to the winner. Two large, white, shaggy dogs rushed at me with an angry bark. The moon had not yet risen, and only two stars, like two saving beacons, sparkled on the dark blue arch. There are two old pine trees in that clearing. Two large, dull, oil portraits hung on the wall. Two glass factories were established near our estate. For the first two months, the expedition worked in difficult meteorological conditions. Two pillars of fire cut through the darkness of the night.

No. 346. We were told to write three non-union sentences. There were two lonely birch trees at the edge of the forest. Four gray houses rose gloomily on the outskirts of the city. I lost three library books. Two fighting competitions were held that day. Four blue boats lay on the sand. Three luxury cars stopped silently at the porch.

No. 347. He was in Altai on a business trip. He dropped out of college due to illness. He rested in a sanatorium for about a month. My sister brought a small palm tree from the Caucasus. Severe cold weather is reported from Siberia. They returned from the Urals full of impressions.

No. 348. Study at the university, at the biology department, at the institute, at courses, at school. Visit Altai, the Urals, Transbaikalia, and the Far East. Return from Altai, from the Urals, from Donbass, from the Azov region, from the Far East. Work in a factory, factory, collective farm. Go to the ministry, post office, police station, telegraph office, train station. Go to a concert, a movie, a play.

Go to a workshop, to a plant, to a factory, to an institute. Build a building on a square, on a street, in an alley.

No. 349 - orally.

No. 350. There are flowers in the garden, further on you can see the alleys of lindens and acacias, and an old elm to the left of the apple, cherry, and pear trees. Vera ran from the garden onto the balcony, followed by Sergei, who was jumping over three steps, and Nikita walked behind her. On one side is the Volga with steep banks and the Trans-Volga region;

on the other there are wide fields, cultivated and empty... On the third side villages and part of the city are visible. Behind the line were hunters with dogs, and behind the hunters was the coachman Ignat. I am alone. There is hundreds of miles of sea nearby. In one such dictionary you can collect words related to nature, in another - good and apt words, in a third - words of people of different professions...

No. 351 - orally.

No. 352. OLGA AND TATYANA.

Olga is a simple, spontaneous being, who never reasoned about anything, never asked about anything, to whom everything was clear and understandable out of habit, and to whom everything depended on habit.

She cried a lot about Lensky's death, but was soon consoled, married a lancer and from a graceful and sweet girl became a dozen ladies, repeating her mother, with the small changes that time required. But it’s not at all so easy to determine Tatyana’s character. Tatyana's nature is a little complex, but deep and strong. Tatyana does not have these painful contradictions that plague too complex natures;

Tatyana was created as if she were all from one solid piece, without any additions or impurities. Her whole life is imbued with that integrity, that unity, which in the world of art constitutes the highest dignity of a work of art.

So, summer nights were devoted to daydreaming, winter nights to reading novels, and this in the midst of a world that at that time had the prudent habit of snoring loudly. What is the contradiction between Tatyana and the world around her? Tatyana is a rare, beautiful flower that accidentally grew in a crevice of a wild rock, Unknown in the deaf grass, Neither moths nor bees.

These two verses, spoken by Pushkin about Olga, apply much more to Tatyana. What moths, what bees could know this flower or be captivated by it? Are the ugly horseflies, gadflies and beetles like Pykhtin, Buyanov, Petushkov and the like?

We repeat: Tatyana is an exceptional being, a deep, loving, passionate nature.

No. 354. Raisky glanced at the Volga and forgot everything... Both the grove and the beautiful facade of the house were reflected in the flooded lake. I see neither deep sky nor blue sea. Noise, cold and salty spray - that's my area for now! I fall asleep, then wake up, open my eyes. Once upon a time there were great numbers of both white and blue foxes on the island. Frost lay for a long time on the slopes of the roofs and at the well, and on the balcony railings, and on the foliage. The cheeks are rosy and full and dark.

She was tied with a thin chain to one of the benches on the deck and darted about and squeaked pitifully, like a bird. I will now go to the Far East, or to the north. The snowstorm twists, throws snow and whistles, and bursts into a terrible howl. Her grey eyes They were red, either from insomnia or from tears. Now he was working on growing fast-growing trees from our domestic species of willow, pine, and spruce. Now neither mountains, nor sky, nor earth were visible. In its boundless wilds, the harsh northerners - the larch and the dove - lived in close proximity to the gentle children of the south - the velvet tree and the vineyard. Other factors, such as winds, temperature differences between day and night, summer and winter, sea spray, etc., play a secondary role. Everywhere - both above and below - work was in full swing. The clatter of axes and hammers, the screeching of saws and planes, clanging and roaring could be heard everywhere. The ocean seems to have stopped and roars quietly and gently. Only the owner, Sergei Nikolaevich, and Vladimir Petrovich remained in the room.

– Are you going to sell apples? – Nikita handed him an apple. - No, cadet, I have nothing to chew.

Having driven away from the camp, they met four herders; Behind the oxen swaying in yokes, plows with their plowshares turned upside down were dragged along, followed by shaggy plowmen in crusty shirts, eating porridge. Artyom stopped again and asked for a long time what the turn to Pestravka would be.

By midday the wind had died down, and waves of heat were setting in the distance along the edge of the steppe. Peering, Nikita discerned in this exciting blue a floating house, a tree hanging above the ground, or a ship without masts. The carts were coming. The grasshoppers were chattering. And then a steady ringing sound was heard across the steppe. Zaremka danced sideways in the hitching post and neighed loudly. Artem turned around and said with a wink:

– Ours is dusty!

Soon a troika flew past the carts with the lumbering trot of Lord Byron, raising his muzzle, with his pendulous tails gnawing the ground in anger. In the stroller sat the father in a tussock jacket, with his arms akimbo; his beard flew to both sides with the wind; With cheerful eyes, he shouted to Nikita:

- Do you want to come to me? - And the troika rushed off, Finally, from behind the edge of the steppe, two domes of a white church, cranes of wells, the tops of rare willows, haze, roofs began to rise, and beyond the steppe, clay-yellowish river sparkling in the sun, the entire village of Pestravka opened up, and beyond it - in the pasture there are canvas booths and dark spots of herds.

The carts trotted across a shaky bridge right over the water, passed the church square, where in a pink house, in the last window, a fat priest was playing the violin, turned along a pasture to booths and stood near a row of pots.

Nikita stood on the cart and saw: here is a gypsy, overgrown with a black beard right from his eyes, in a blue caftan with silver buttons open on his bare chest, looking into the teeth of a sick horse, and a frail little man, her owner, looking at the gypsy in surprise. Here is a cunning old man persuading a frightened woman to buy a pot painted with herbs - he taps on it with his fingernail. “Yes, father, I don’t need a pot like that,” says the woman. “You, beauty, search the whole world for such a pot and you won’t find it.” Here is a drunk man getting angry near a basket of eggs and shouting: “What kind of egg is this? Is this an egg? It’s a puny egg. Here in Koldyban we have an egg, in Koldyban we have chickens walking up to their necks in grain.” Here come the girls in pink, yellow jackets, colorful short shawls and turn to canvas booths, where, leaning over the counters, sellers shout, grab those passing by: “Come to us, to us, they bought from us...” Dust, screaming, horses neighing at fair. Clay whistles whistle. The raised shafts of carts stick out everywhere. Here, wheeling and shoving, comes a guy in a blue shirt torn at the shoulder and stretches out the accordion with all his might: “Eh, Dunya, Dunya, Dunya!..”

Artyom unharnessed the horses and began to split the cart. At this time, a man in a military frock coat, with a saber on a belt belt, approached him, looked at Artyom and shook his head. Artyom also looked at him and took off his hat.

“That’s when I caught you, tramp,” said the mustachioed man, “of course, I’ll rot you now.”

“Your will,” answered Artyom.

The mustachioed man took him by the elbow and dragged him. The cunning old man selling pots laughed after them. Mishka Koryashonok whispered worriedly to Nikita:

- Run, find your father, tell him - the policeman took Artyom to Klopovka, and I’ll guard the cart.

Nikita got out of the crowd and ran across the trampled feather grass field to the horse paddocks, where he saw his father’s carriage from afar. The father, very cheerful, stood at one of the pens, with his hands in the pockets of his jacket. Nikita began to talk about the incident with Artyom, but Vasily Nikitievich immediately interrupted:

- Do you see the bay stallion... Oh, stallion, oh, rogue!..

Three Bashkirs in faded quilted robes and eared hats walked around the corral between the horses and tried to catch the nimble red stallion with a lasso. But he, putting his ears back, showing his teeth, shied away, dodged the lasso and then rushed into the thick of the herd, then ran out into a spacious place. Suddenly he dropped to his knees, crawled under the fence pole, lifted it, jumped up on the other side and rushed at a cheerful gallop into the feather grass steppe, his mane and tail blowing in the wind. The father even stamped his feet with pleasure.

The Bashkirs, waddling in clubfoot, ran to the riding horses, shaggy and short, easily fell into high saddles and galloped off - two in pursuit of a karak stallion, the third - with a lasso - to cross him. The stallion began to spin around the field, and each time a Bashkir jumped out to cross him, squealing like an animal. The stallion began to rush about, and then they threw a lasso around his neck. He rose up, but they began to whip him from the sides and choke him with a lasso. The stallion staggered and fell. He was led to the pen, shaking and covered in soap. The wrinkled old Bashkir rolled off the saddle and approached Vasily Nikitievich:

- Buy a stallion tank.

The father laughed and went to another pen. Nikita started talking about Artyom again.

“Oh, what a shame,” exclaimed the father, “really, what should I do with this idiot?” Here's what - take two kopecks, buy a kalach, some fish and wait for me on the carts... And you know, I sold Zaremka to Medvedev - inexpensively, but without any hassle. Go ahead, I'll be right there.

But “now” turned out to be very for a long time. A large pale orange sun hung over the edge of the steppe, golden dust rose over the fair. The bell rang for vespers. And only then did the father appear. His face was embarrassed.

“I bought a batch of camels quite by accident,” he said, without looking Nikita in the eye, “terribly inexpensive... Why haven’t they sent for the mare yet?” Strange. Well, have you sold a lot of apples? For sixty-five kopecks? Strange. So that’s it: to hell with them, with these apples, I told Medvedev that I was selling them to him in addition to the mare... Let’s go help Artyom out...

Vasily Nikitievich put his arm around Nikita's shoulders and led him through the quiet fair, between the carts, which in the twilight smelled of hay, tar and bread. Here and there a song was heard with a high-pitched echo that melted into the steppe. The horse neighed.

“You know,” the father stopped, his eyes sparkled mischievously, “I’ll get enough money at home... Well, that’s okay.” Tomorrow we'll go and look at the three - gray, dappled... Anyway - one answer.

In the evening, Nikita returned from threshing with a cart of fresh wheat straw. A narrow strip of sunset, dim and autumn-crimson, burned over the steppe, over ancient mounds - traces of nomads who passed here in time immemorial.

At dusk, furrows of arable land could be seen in the deserted, compressed fields. Here and there, near the ground, the fire of the Plugar camp glowed red, and there was a bitter smoke. The cart creaked and swayed. Nikita lay on his back, closing his eyes. Fatigue hummed sweetly throughout my body. He half-asleeply recalled this day...

...Four pairs of strong mares walk in the circle of the threshing drive. In the middle, on the pivot, on the seat, Mishka Koryashonok slowly spins, shouts, cracks his whip.

An endless belt runs clapping from a wooden flywheel to a red thresher, as big as a house, shaking madly with straw walkers and sieves. Howls, sinks, hoots, roars fiercely drum, heard far in the steppe, it eats the spread sheaves, drives straw and grain into the dusty depths of the threshing machine. Vasily Nikitievich himself asks, wearing thick glasses, elbow-length boots, a shirt stuck to his wet back, all dusty, with a chaff beard, and a black mouth. Creaking carts with sheaves arrive. Spreading his legs, the guy runs after the cart, grabbing a huge heap of straw, stands on the board and at a trot drags the straw to the sweepers. Old men throw blows with long wooden pitchforks. The worries, labors and anxieties of a whole year are over. All day long there are songs and jokes. The girls caught Artyom, throwing sheaves from the carts onto the flying threshing machines, between the carts, tickled him - he was afraid of tickling - knocked him down, and stuffed him with chaff under his clothes. That was a laugh!..

...Nikita opened his eyes. The cart swayed and creaked. It was now completely dark in the steppe. The entire sky is strewn with August constellations. The bottomless sky shimmered, as if a breeze was passing through star dust. Spread out glowing fog Milky Way. On a cart, as if in a cradle, Nikita floated under the stars, calmly looking at distant worlds.

“All this is mine,” he thought, “someday I’ll board an airship and fly away...” And he began to imagine a flying ship with wings like a mouse, the black desert of the sky and the approaching azure coast of an unknown planet - silvery mountains, wonderful lakes, outlines of castles and figures and clouds flying over the water, such as occur at sunset.

The cart began to go downhill. Dogs wandered in the distance. There was a whiff of dampness from the ponds. We entered the yard. Warm, cozy light poured from the windows of the house, from the dining room.

Autumn came, the earth began to calm down. Later the sun rose, not warming, old - it no longer cared about the earth. The birds flew away. The garden was empty, the leaves were falling. They pulled the boat out of the pond and put it in the barn upside down.

In the mornings now, in places where the shadows from the roofs fell, the grass was gray, touched with frost. Through the frost and through the autumn-green grass, geese walked to the pond; the geese grew fat and waddled around like lumps of snow. Twelve girls from the village were chopping cabbage in a large log near the people's room - they sang songs and banged their choppers throughout the yard. Dunyasha came running from the cellar where they were churning butter, gnawing on the stalks. She had become even more beautiful in the fall, and was blushing, and everyone knew that she was running to the servants’ quarters not to gnaw the stalks and laugh with the girls, but so that he could see from the window, the young worker Vasily, the same thing - blood and milk. Artyom completely hung his nose - he was fixing people’s clamps.

Mother moved to the winter quarters. The stoves in the house were flooded. Akhilka the hedgehog carried rags and pieces of paper under the sideboard and tried to go to bed for the whole winter. Arkady Ivanovich was whistling in his room. Nikita saw through the crack of the door: Arkady Ivanovich was standing in front of the mirror and, holding himself by the tip of his beard, whistled thoughtfully: clearly, the man was planning to get married.

Vasily Nikitievich sent a convoy with wheat to Samara and left the next day. Before leaving, he had great conversations with his mother. She was waiting for a letter from him.

A week later, Vasily Nikitievich wrote:

“I sold the bread, imagine - successfully, more expensive than Medvedev. The matter with the inheritance, as one might expect, has not moved one step forward. Therefore, of course, the second solution arises, which you so resisted, dear Sasha. We can’t live apart even this winter. I advise you to hurry up with your departure, since classes at the gymnasium have already begun. Only as a special exception will Nikita be allowed to take the entrance exam to the second grade. By the way, they offer me two amazing Chinese vases - these are for our city apartment; It’s only the fear that you’ll be angry that’s keeping me from buying for now.”

Mother did not hesitate for long. Anxiety about finding a lot of money in the hands of Vasily Nikitievich, and especially the danger of him buying Chinese vases that no one in the world needed, forced Alexandra Leontyevna to get ready in three days. Mother sent the furniture needed for the city, large chests, barrels of salting and livestock with the convoy. She rode forward lightly, in two troikas, with Nikita, Arkady Ivanovich and Vasilisa the cook. The day was gray and windy. There are desert stubble and arable fields all around. Mother felt sorry for the horses and rode at a jog. In Koldybani we spent the night at an inn. The next day, towards lunch, from across the flat edge of the steppe, from the gray haze, the domes of churches and the chimneys of steam mills rose. Mother was silent: she did not like the city, city life. Arkady Ivanovich bit his beard with impatience. We drove for a long time past greasy, stinking factories, past timber warehouses, passed a dirty settlement with taverns and grocery stores, crossed a wide bridge where the suburban boys and mustard plasters played pranks at night; Here are the gloomy log barns on the steep bank of the Samarka River - the tired horses climbed up the mountain, and the wheels rattled along the pavement. Cleanly dressed passers-by looked around in surprise at the mud-covered carriages. It began to seem to Nikita that both carriages were clumsy and ridiculous, that the horses were mismatched, rustic - if only they could turn off the main street! A black trotter harnessed to a varnished charabanc flew past, loudly clicking its horseshoes.

“Sergei Ivanovich, why are you going like that, hurry up,” said Nikita...

- And so we’ll get there.

Sergei Ivanovich sat sedately and strictly on the box, holding the troika at a trot. Finally, we turned into a side street, drove past a fire tower, where a big-faced guy in a Greek helmet stood at the gate, and stopped at a white one-story house with a cast-iron porch spanning the entire sidewalk. The joyful face of Vasily Nikitievich appeared in the window. He waved his hands, disappeared, and a minute later he opened the front door.

Nikita ran into the house first. The small, completely empty room, papered with white, was bright, smelled of oil paint, and on the shiny painted floor against the wall stood two Chinese vases that looked like wash jugs. At the end of the hall, in an arch with white columns reflected in the floor, a girl in a brown dress appeared. Her hands were folded under a white apron, and her yellow shoes were also reflected in the floor. Her hair was combed into a braid and there was a black bow at the back of her head behind her ears. The blue eyes looked sternly, they even squinted a little. It was Lily. Nikita stood in the middle of the hall, stuck to the floor. Lilya must have looked at him in the same way as passers-by on the main street looked at Sosnovsky tarantases.

– Did you receive my letter? – she asked. Nikita nodded to her. - Where is it? Give it this minute.

Although he didn’t have the letter with him, Nikita still rummaged in his pocket. Lilya looked attentively and angrily into his eyes...

“I wanted to answer, but...” Nikita muttered.

- Where is it?

- In a suitcase.

– If you don’t give it back today, everything is over between us... I really regret that I wrote to you... Now I have entered the first grade of the gymnasium.

She pursed her lips and stood on tiptoe. Only now Nikita realized: he didn’t answer the purple letter... He swallowed his drool, unstuck his feet from the mirror floor... Lilya immediately hid her hands again under her apron - her nose rose. The long eyelashes completely closed from contempt.

“Forgive me,” Nikita said, “I’m terrible, terrible... It’s all horses, reaping, threshing, Mishka Koryashonok...”

He turned purple and lowered his head. Lilya was silent. He felt disgusted with himself, like he was disgusted with cow dung. But at that time, Anna Apollosovna’s voice boomed in the hallway, greetings and kisses were heard, the heavy steps of coachmen carrying suitcases were heard... Lilya angrily and quickly whispered:

- They see us... You are impossible... Take on a cheerful look... maybe I will forgive you this time...

And she ran into the hallway. From there, her thin voice rang through the empty, echoing rooms:

– Hello, Aunt Sasha, welcome!

Thus began the first day of a new life. Instead of a calm, joyful village expanse - seven cramped, uninhabited rooms, outside the window - draymen rumbling on the cobblestones and hurrying, all dressed like the zemstvo doctor from Pestravka, Verinosov, anxious people running, covering their mouths with their collars from the wind carrying papers and dust. Bustle, noise, excited conversations. Even the hours moved differently here—they flew. Nikita and Arkady Ivanovich were arranging Nikitin’s room - arranging furniture and books, hanging curtains. At dusk, Victor came straight from the gymnasium and said that the fifth-graders were smoking in the restroom and that the arithmetic teacher in their class was glued to a chair smeared with gum arabic. Victor was independent and absent-minded. He begged Nikita for a pocket knife with twelve blades and went “to a friend—you don’t know him”—to play with feathers.

At dusk Nikita sat by the window. The sunset outside the city was still the same - rustic. But Nikita, like Zheltukhin behind the gauze, felt like a captured prisoner, a stranger - just like Zheltukhin. Arkady Ivanovich entered the room, wearing a coat and a hat, in his hand he held a clean handkerchief, spreading the smell of cologne.

- I'm leaving, I'll be back around nine.

-Where are you going?

- To a place where I am not yet. - He laughed. - Well, brother, how Lilya received you - right into the pitchfork... It’s okay, you’ll calm yourself down. And even this is partly good - to lose the village fat... - He turned on his heel and left. In one day I became a completely different person.

That night Nikita dreamed that he was standing in front of Lily in a blue uniform with silver buttons and saying sternly:

- Here is your letter, take it.

But with these words he woke up and again saw himself walking along the glowing floor and saying to Lila:

- Take your letter.

Lily’s long eyelashes rose and fell, her independent nose was proud and alien, but now her nose and her whole face would cease to be strangers and start laughing...

He woke up, looked around - a strange light from a street lamp lay on the wall... And again Nikita dreamed of the same thing. Never in reality had he loved this incomprehensible girl so much...

The next morning, mother, Arkady Ivanovich and Nikita went to the gymnasium and talked with the director, a thin, gray-haired, stern man who smelled of copper. A week later, Nikita passed the entrance exam and entered second grade...

The extraordinary adventure of Nikita Roshchin

My son is four years old, he has linen-blond hair and dark eyes. He would have looked exactly like Raphael's angel if it weren't for his passion for drawing on walls with a pencil.

When I decided to write this story, I bought a ream of paper and a bottle of ink. My son, seeing such a large amount of paper and ink on the table, asked me what I intended to do with it. I replied that I was thinking of writing a novel about the life of one boy who was not at all to blame for what happened to him. Then he looked at me with stern eyes and said:

- Listen, listen (he has a habit of repeating some words twice), this is really stupid - you don’t allow me to draw on the wall, but you yourself want to ruin so much good paper. Give me the paper, and write yourself, write a short story.

I looked into his black eyes again, gave him almost all the paper, and now - before you is the smallest novel that has ever been written.

In a spacious, bright room, a man with a wonderful beard, combed on both sides, was sitting at a desk. With the nail of his little finger, he carefully selected grains of wheat from grains of weeds on a sheet of paper. His eye was narrowed, because in the corner of his mouth there was a reed cigarette holder with a smoking thick cigarette sticking out.

The second man, very short, was lying on his stomach on the floor and looking under the cupboard. And from under the closet, the pig snout of an old, smart hedgehog, in turn, looked at him with shiny, black eyes. The man at the table said without turning around:

“Tie a piece of bacon to a thread, put it under his nose and slowly pull it, and he will come out.”

The boy lying on the floor was Nikita Roshchin; the bearded man at the table was his father, Alexey Alekseevich Roshchin, and the hedgehog under the buffet cabinet was a wild and stubborn animal that did not want under any circumstances to crawl out from under the buffet except at night, when he ran around the rooms, knocking his nails, and snorting nose into mouse holes.

Nikita tied a piece of sugar to a thread, but the hedgehog looked at these tricks with contempt. He never came out from under the cupboard.

The hedgehog did not come out the next day or the day after. At the Sosnovka estate, in an old house standing in the middle of a dark garden, except for trouble with a hedgehog, nothing particularly important happened during the whole summer. Green orioles were whistling in the garden, anxious starlings were running under the trees, in the morning a wild pigeon was cooing in the dew-covered leaves with a honeyed voice, at the evening dawn fish were splashing in the pond under the willows and the frogs were hooting, groaning and moaning so much that it seemed as if great grief had happened in the pond .

And grief did happen, but not to the inhabitants of the pond, but to Nikita: in the fall, his father announced to him that he was moving to Moscow, to his aunt’s house, to the same aunt who wears a man’s hat and doesn’t let anyone off the hook.

Nikita will be sent to school because he is already ten years old, and it’s time to think about more serious things than hedgehogs and frogs. Sorry, sorry, happy childhood!

Big trouble

I will not mention all the troubles with which Nikita Roshchi's life was now filled - I will only mention the significant ones. The aunt, who did not let anyone down, Varvara Afrikanovna, forced Nikita to wash himself every day from head to toe, cut his nails, clean his dress, and sit silently for an hour at breakfast and lunch. In addition, a light rain was pouring outside the windows, carts were thundering and carriages with their tops up were splashing with mud. The house was a little dark, deserted and everything stood in its place, and at any hour Varvara Afrikanovna appeared everywhere and did not let anyone down.

Nikita studied many sciences and, in addition, Russian grammar, remarkable in that everything in it consisted of exceptions, all the verbs were irregular, and the conjugations, moods, genders and types of these crazy verbs were twisted into such a dark abyss that one could be lost in it. Even my aunt drowned when people turned to her for help.

Nikita was forbidden to whistle into his bent finger, to shoot chewed paper from a glass tube at his aunt’s old cat, who at the same time, lying in his place on the sofa, blinked his ears offendedly, it was forbidden to bring all kinds of animals from the street, it was forbidden to run around on his soles. parquet floor in the hall - in a word, under the pressure of all the troubles, Nikita began to think about a plan to escape from home and join one of the wild nomadic tribes.

But this plan was prevented by the revolution.

Revolution

The revolution began on the day when boiled pork was served at breakfast, which was not taken with a knife. Instead of sweets they served this amazing, sugar-free, rice porridge that it could not be pulled off the spoon, but when it was pushed off with a fork, it stuck to the fork. Auntie told father:

“You can rejoice, Alexey, at your revolution—eat this dog mush to your health.”

Varvara Afrikanovna stood up, shook her chin, looked point-blank at the footman Peter’s forehead, measured with her gaze all of his two arshins and twelve inches of height, after which Peter was supposed, as Nikita understood it, to shrink, wrinkle and, to the surprise and joy of everyone at home, disappear like that so that there is no wet place left; but this did not happen, and Peter even grinned, though very stupidly - the aunt’s purple lips trembled, and she floated out of the room. The father remained sitting at the table, grabbing a handful of his beard and biting it; his eyes sparkled.

The next step of the revolution was the appearance in the city of an unusual number of boys who whistled shrilly into a bent palen. When adults in huge crowds, with flags and inscriptions, moved in the middle of the streets, these boys, in order to increase the general disorder, climbed onto roofs and lamps, whistled from there and shouted to everyone - “Down with!” When adults began to talk day and night, gathering in groups at intersections and under monuments, the boys were forbidden to whistle - they were snapped on the back of their heads and pulled out of the crowd by their ears. But no one could now prohibit hanging from the back of trams, clinging to cars and cabs, climbing all the towers and bell towers, sitting astride the cannons in the Kremlin and swimming in the Moscow River directly from the embankments.

From this continuous activity, the boys became worn out and wild over the summer. Varvara Afrikanovna no longer tried not to let Nikita go down, she just said that she was writing everything down in her heart and for everything at once, when the time came, she would give the go.

Father now wore his beard straight, with a wedge in front, and came home thin and cheerful and talked noisily.

But everything has an end. In the fall, the adults, having found out all the questions at the crossroads, began - some to shoot from rifles and machine guns along the streets, others - to cover the windows in the houses with mattresses and books. The boys, due to their worn-out clothes and thin shoes, also hid in their homes. It was cold, uncomfortable and boring.

It was here that Varvara Afrikanovna, from everything written in her heart, said to her father:

“You didn’t listen to me, Alexey, on time, now go and bite your elbow.”

Nikita went after his father to see how he would bite his elbow, but his father instead soaped his cheeks and shaved his beard. It was the most terrible thing Nikita had seen during the entire revolution: his father had grinning lips and a frivolous, small chin for no reason. From that day on, a more adult relationship was established between Nikita and his father: his father seemed to become younger, Nikita - older.

The next evening, Nikita and Alexey Alekseevich, who hid his face in his collar, were riding in a cab to the station. On my father's lap lay a small suitcase - all their property. So they fled from Moscow to the south.

New friend

The ride was not entirely comfortable, but it was fun. In the carriage compartment, besides my father, there were fifteen other bearded men with rifles - they were returning home from the front. One, a red-haired man, had a small machine gun lying on his lap.

“I’ll put it in the garden,” said the red-haired man, “I’ve been meaning to start this thing for a long time.”

Nikita was placed upstairs, in a net from under suitcases. The men fed him soldiers' breadcrumbs; one, singing all the way in a thin voice: “It’s a dark night, I’m afraid. Show me off, Marusya,” he felt so sorry for Nikita upstairs, in the net, that he gave him a hand grenade:

“You need to handle it carefully, God forbid it bursts, there will be nothing left of you, little boy.”

Another soldier, bald, with a beard like a brownie tangled in braids, said to Nikita:

“Don’t listen to him, let’s go to my place, I’ll get you a job in the beekeeping area, I need a competent boy with passion.”

The road was long. It’s stuffy in the carriage, you can’t lie down or walk. The men began to find fault with each other. The redhead with the machine gun was finally knocked out of the compartment - he took up a lot of space. Then they began to find fault with Alexey Alekseevich - who is he, or maybe he is a bourgeois? To Nikita’s surprise, his father suddenly began to lie so loudly that the men just gaped.

At the end of the journey, the carriage became more spacious, it was possible to go out into the corridor, and it was there that Nikita met his future friend, Vaska Tyrkin.

This wonderful boy, about fourteen years old, slept in the corridor right on the floor, with his head stuck in a tin bucket so that passers-by would not step on his cheeks.

He was dressed in a soldier's overcoat with rolled up sleeves and was wrapped in machine gun belts all over his body - crosswise and across his body. He had hand grenades tied to his belt, tied with rags, and a rifle with an attached bayonet lay under his arm. In addition, he was wearing huge torn boots and spurs on chains.

Nikita looked at the heavily armed boy with respect and couldn’t resist touching the wheels on the spurs. Then the boy pulled his head out of the bucket, took hold of the grenades, supporting them, sat down on the floor with thunder and ringing, yawned and said to Nikita lazily:

“I’ll throw you out the window and you’ll stare at me.”

Then he reached into his pocket for tobacco, but didn’t find any tobacco, pushed his hat to the back of his head and again raised his snub nose, staring at Nikita with round, light blue eyes, like a jackdaw’s:

- Treat me to a cigarette.

“I only have chocolate with me,” Nikita said, blushing because because of the chocolate, the armed boy would now despise him all his life. The boy, without disdain, ate the chocolate bar with extraordinary speed.

– Do you know who I am? - he asked. “That’s what you don’t know, but you bother to talk to me.” I'm Vasily Tyrkin, Makhnovist, have you heard?

“Of course,” Nikita answered hastily.

“Give me another bar,” ordered Vasily Tyrkin, “we don’t count this chocolate at all in our shock battalion.”

– Are you going on vacation now?

– Our detachment died a heroic death near Ekaterinodar. I left alone, but it’s impossible to count how many enemies I killed. Look, the overcoat is full of holes, put your finger in the hole, it’s all bullets, bayonet strikes.

- What do you want to do now?

“It’s none of your business what I do.” I'm thinking over a plan. What cities are on our way?

– Lozovaya will be here soon.

- Lozovaya is Lozovaya... We need to gather about fifty people, and occupy it with a fight. Do you want to be my boss?

Goosebumps began to move on Nikita’s back under his jacket. But with visible cheerfulness, he agreed to go under the leadership. Vasily Tyrkin promised not to beat him: “Now this has been left, I will use moral influence on you.” But, having finished the third tile, he changed his mind about taking Lozovaya.

- One problem, - then the fuss is full: a republic must be declared, the authorities must be put in place, and I don’t like this passion - I’m a military man.

Nikita’s heart was relieved: despite his presence of mind, he was still a little afraid to take the city in battle. After hovering around the dangerous boy for a while, he made his way into his father’s compartment and sat quietly. But soon thunder and the ringing of weapons were heard, Vasily Tyrkin entered the compartment, sat down next to Nikita and asked:

-Where are you going?

– Dad and I are going to the Caucasus.

“In that case, I’ll go with you to the Caucasus—I have nowhere to go anyway.” And you will be calmer with a military man, and I will be calmer. Give me some more chocolate. I must admit, I haven’t eaten anything for three days. Does this mean your father is sitting? Very nice. And I, brother, have neither father nor mother...

From that day on, Vasily Tyrkin, along with his bombs, machine-gun belts, spurs and rifle, no longer lagged behind the Roshchins, and although he treated Nikita with contempt, he was friendly, even ardent.

On the twelfth day, all three arrived in the city of N., where Alexey Alekseevich took horses and went with the boys to the mountains, to the estate of one of his friends, called “Kizily”.

Nikita stood on the cart and saw: here is a gypsy, overgrown with a black beard right from his eyes, in a blue caftan with silver buttons open on his bare chest, looking into the teeth of a sick horse, and a frail little man, her owner, looking at the gypsy in surprise. Here is a cunning old man persuading a frightened woman to buy a pot painted with herbs - he taps on it with his fingernail. “Yes, father, I don’t need a pot like that,” says the woman. “You, beauty, search the whole world for such a pot and you won’t find it.” Here is a drunken man getting angry near a basket of eggs and shouting: “What kind of egg is this? Is this an egg, this is a puny egg. Here in Koldyban we have an egg, in our Koldyban chickens walk up to their necks in grain.” Here come the girls in pink, yellow jackets, colorful short shawls and turn to canvas booths, where, leaning over the counters, sellers shout and grab those passing by: “Come to us, to us, they bought from us...” Dust, screaming, horse-like neighing at the fair. Clay whistles whistle. The raised shafts of carts stick out everywhere. Here, wheeling and pushing, comes a guy in a blue shirt torn at the shoulder and stretches out the accordion with all his might: “Eh, Dunya, Dunya, Dunya!..”
Artyom unharnessed the horses and began to split the cart. At this time, a man in a military frock coat, with a saber on a belt belt, approached him, looked at Artyom and shook his head. Artyom also looked at him and took off his hat.
“That’s when I caught you, tramp,” said the mustachioed man, “of course, I’ll rot you now.”
“Your will,” answered Artyom.
The mustachioed man took him by the elbow and dragged him. The cunning old man selling pots laughed after them. Mishka Koryashonok whispered worriedly to Nikita:
- Run, find your father, tell him - the policeman took Artyom to Klopovka, and I’ll guard the cart.
Nikita got out of the crowd and ran across the trampled feather grass field to the horse paddocks, where he saw his father’s carriage from afar. The father, very cheerful, stood at one of the pens, with his hands in the pockets of his jacket. Nikita began to talk about the incident with Artyom, but Vasily Nikitievich immediately interrupted:
- You see the bay stallion... Oh, stallion, oh, rogue!..
Three Bashkirs in faded quilted robes and eared hats walked around the corral between the horses and tried to catch the nimble red stallion with a lasso. But he, putting his ears back, showing his teeth, shied away, dodged the lasso and then rushed into the thick of the herd, then ran out into a spacious place. Suddenly he dropped to his knees, crawled under the fence pole, lifted it, jumped up on the other side and rushed at a cheerful gallop into the feather grass steppe, his mane and tail blowing in the wind. The father even stamped his feet with pleasure.
The Bashkirs, waddling in clubfoot, ran to the riding horses, shaggy and short, easily fell into high saddles and galloped off - two in pursuit of a karak stallion, the third - with a lasso - to cross him. The stallion began to spin around the field, and each time a Bashkir jumped out to cross him, squealing like an animal. The stallion began to rush about, and then they threw a lasso around his neck. He rose up, but they began to whip him from the sides and choke him with a lasso. The stallion staggered and fell. He was led to the pen, shaking and covered in soap. The wrinkled old Bashkir rolled off the saddle and approached Vasily Nikitievich:
- Buy a stallion, baby.
The father laughed and went to another pen. Nikita started talking about Artyom again.
“Oh, what a shame,” exclaimed the father, “really, what should I do with this idiot?” Here's what - take two kopecks, buy a kalach, some fish and wait for me on the carts... And I sold Zaremka, you know, to Medvedev, inexpensively, but without any hassle. Go ahead, I'll be right there.
But “now” turned out to be a very long time. A large pale orange sun hung over the edge of the steppe, golden dust rose over the fair. The bell rang for vespers. And only then did the father appear. His face was embarrassed.
“I bought a batch of camels quite by accident,” he said, without looking Nikita in the eyes, “terribly inexpensive... Why haven’t they sent for the mare yet?” Strange. Well, have you sold a lot of apples? For sixty-five kopecks? Strange. So that's it: to hell with them, with these apples, - I told Medvedev that I was selling them to him in addition to the mare... Let's go help Artyom out...
Vasily Nikitievich put his arm around Nikita's shoulders and led him through the quiet fair, between the carts, which in the twilight smelled of hay, tar and bread. Here and there a song was heard with a high-pitched echo that melted into the steppe. The horse neighed.
“You know,” the father stopped, his eyes sparkled mischievously, “I’ll get the house for nothing... Well, that’s okay.” Tomorrow we'll go and look at the three of them, gray and dappled... Anyway - one answer.
AT WHO
In the evening, Nikita returned from threshing with a cart of fresh wheat straw. A narrow strip of sunset, dim and autumn-crimson, burned over the steppe, over ancient mounds - traces of nomads who passed here in time immemorial.
At dusk, furrows of arable land could be seen in the deserted, compressed fields. Here and there, near the ground, the fire of the Plugar camp glowed red, and there was a bitter smoke. The cart creaked and swayed. Nikita lay on his back, closing his eyes. Fatigue hummed sweetly throughout my body. He half-asleeply recalled this day...
...Four pairs of strong mares walk in the circle of the threshing drive. In the middle, on the pivot, on the seat, Mishka Koryashonok slowly spins, shouts, cracks his whip.
An endless belt runs clapping from a wooden flywheel to a red thresher, as big as a house, shaking madly with straw walkers and sieves. The drum howls, sinks, hoots, the drum roars fiercely, audible far in the steppe - it devours the spread sheaves, drives straw and grain into the dusty depths of the threshing machine. Vasily Nikitievich himself asks, wearing thick glasses, elbow-length boots, a shirt stuck to his wet back - all dusty, with a chaff beard, with a black mouth. Creaking carts with sheaves arrive. Spreading his legs, the guy runs after the cart, grabbing a huge heap of straw, stands on the board and at a trot drags the straw to the sweepers. Old men throw blows with long wooden pitchforks. The worries, labors and anxieties of a whole year are over. All day long there are songs and jokes. The girls caught Artyom, throwing sheaves from the carts onto the flying threshing machines, between the carts, tickled him - he was afraid of tickling - and knocked him down and stuffed him with chaff under his clothes. That was a laugh!..
...Nikita opened his eyes. The cart swayed and creaked. It was now completely dark in the steppe. The entire sky is strewn with August constellations. The bottomless sky shimmered, as if a breeze was passing through star dust. The Milky Way is spread out with a luminous fog. On a cart, as if in a cradle, Nikita floated under the stars, calmly looking at distant worlds.
“All this is mine,” he thought, “someday I will board an airship and fly away...” And he began to imagine a flying ship with wings like a mouse, the black desert of the sky and the approaching azure coast of an unknown planet, silvery mountains, wonderful lakes, outlines of castles and figures and clouds flying over the water, such as are seen at sunset.
The cart began to go downhill. Dogs wandered in the distance. There was a whiff of dampness from the ponds. We entered the yard. Warm, cozy light poured from the windows of the house, from the dining room.
DEPARTURE
Autumn came, the earth began to calm down. Later the sun rose, not warming, old - it no longer cared about the earth. The birds flew away. The garden was empty, the leaves were falling. They pulled the boat out of the pond and put it in the barn upside down.
In the mornings now, in places where the shadows from the roofs fell, the grass was gray, touched with frost. On the frost, on the autumn-green grass, the geese walked to the pond; the geese grew fat and waddled around like lumps of snow. Twelve girls from the village were chopping cabbage in a large log near the people's room, singing songs and banging their choppers throughout the yard. Dunyasha came running from the cellar where they were churning butter, gnawing on the stalks. She had become even more beautiful in the fall, and was blushing, and everyone knew that she was running to the servants’ quarters not to gnaw the stalks and laugh with the girls, but so that he could see from the window, the young worker Vasily, the same thing - blood and milk. Artyom completely hung his nose and repaired people’s clamps.
Mother moved to the winter quarters. The stoves in the house were flooded. Akhilka the hedgehog carried rags and pieces of paper under the sideboard and tried to go to bed for the whole winter. Arkady Ivanovich was whistling in his room. Nikita saw through the crack of the door: Arkady Ivanovich was standing in front of the mirror and, holding himself by the tip of his beard, whistled thoughtfully: clearly, the man was planning to get married.
Vasily Nikitievich sent a convoy with wheat to Samara and left the next day. Before leaving, he had great conversations with his mother. She was waiting for a letter from him.
A week later, Vasily Nikitievich wrote:
“I sold the bread, imagine - successfully, more expensive than Medvedev. The matter with the inheritance, as one would expect, has not moved a single step. Therefore, of course, the second decision arises, which you so opposed, dear Sasha. I can’t live.” we are still apart this winter. I advise you to hurry up with your departure, since classes at the gymnasium have already begun. Only as a special exception will Nikita be allowed to take the entrance exam to the second grade. By the way, they are offering me two amazing Chinese vases - these are for our city apartment; only the fear that you will be angry is keeping me from buying it for now.”
Mother did not hesitate for long. Anxiety about finding a lot of money in the hands of Vasily Nikitievich, and especially the danger of him buying Chinese vases that no one in the world needed, forced Alexandra Leontyevna to get ready in three days. Mother sent the furniture needed for the city, large chests, barrels of salting and livestock with the convoy. She rode forward lightly, in two troikas, with Nikita, Arkady Ivanovich and Vasilisa the cook. The day was gray and windy. There are desert stubble and arable fields all around. Mother felt sorry for the horses and rode at a jog. In Koldybani we spent the night at an inn. The next day, towards lunch, from across the flat edge of the steppe, from the gray haze, the domes of churches and the chimneys of steam mills rose. Mother was silent: she did not like the city, city life. Arkady Ivanovich bit his beard with impatience. We drove for a long time past greasy, stinking factories, past timber warehouses, passed a dirty settlement with taverns and grocery stores, crossed a wide bridge where the suburban boys and mustard plasters played pranks at night; Here are the gloomy log barns on the steep bank of the Samarka River - the tired horses climbed up the mountain, and the wheels rattled along the pavement. Cleanly dressed passers-by looked around in surprise at the mud-covered carriages. It began to seem to Nikita that both carriages were clumsy and ridiculous, that the horses were mismatched, rustic - if only they could turn off the main street! A black trotter harnessed to a varnished charabanc flew past, loudly clicking its horseshoes.
“Sergei Ivanovich, why are you driving like that, hurry up,” said Nikita...
- And so we’ll get there.
Sergei Ivanovich sat sedately and strictly on the box, holding the troika at a trot. Finally, we turned into a side street, drove past a fire tower, where a big-faced guy in a Greek helmet stood at the gate, and stopped at a white one-story house with a cast-iron porch spanning the entire sidewalk. The joyful face of Vasily Nikitievich appeared in the window. He waved his hands, disappeared, and a minute later he opened the front door.
Nikita ran into the house first. The small, completely empty room, papered with white, was bright, smelled of oil paint, and on the shiny painted floor against the wall stood two Chinese vases that looked like wash jugs. At the end of the hall, in an arch with white columns reflected in the floor, a girl in a brown dress appeared. Her hands were folded under a white apron, and her yellow shoes were also reflected in the floor. Her hair was combed into a braid and there was a black bow at the back of her head behind her ears. The blue eyes looked sternly, they even squinted a little. It was Lily. Nikita stood in the middle of the hall, stuck to the floor. Lilya must have looked at him in the same way as passers-by on the main street looked at Sosnovsky tarantases.
- Did you receive my letter? - she asked. Nikita nodded at her. “Where is it?” Give it this minute.
Although he didn’t have the letter with him, Nikita still rummaged in his pocket. Lilya looked attentively and angrily into his eyes...
“I wanted to answer, but...” Nikita muttered.
- Where is it?
- In a suitcase.
- If you don’t give it back today, everything is over between us... I really regret that I wrote to you... Now I have entered the first grade of the gymnasium.
She pursed her lips and stood on tiptoe. Only now did Nikita realize: he hadn’t answered the purple letter... He swallowed his drool, unstuck his feet from the mirrored floor... Lilya immediately hid her hands again under her apron - her nose rose. The long eyelashes completely closed from contempt.
“Forgive me,” Nikita said, “I’m terrible, terrible... It’s all horses, reaping, threshing, Mishka Koryashonok...”
He turned purple and lowered his head. Lilya was silent. He felt disgusted with himself, like he was disgusted with cow dung. But at that time, Anna Apollosovna’s voice began to boom in the hallway, greetings and kisses were heard, the heavy steps of coachmen carrying suitcases were heard... Lilya angrily and quickly whispered:
- They see us... You are impossible... Take on a cheerful appearance... maybe I will forgive you this time...
And she ran into the hallway. From there, her thin voice rang through the empty, echoing rooms:
- Hello, Aunt Sasha, welcome!
Thus began the first day of a new life. Instead of a calm, joyful village expanse - seven cramped, uninhabited rooms, outside the window there are dray trucks thundering on the cobblestones and hurrying, all dressed like the zemstvo doctor from Pestravka, Verinosov, anxious people running, covering their mouths with their collars from the wind carrying papers and dust. Bustle, noise, excited conversations. Even the clock moved differently here - it flew. Nikita and Arkady Ivanovich were arranging Nikitin’s room, arranging furniture and books, hanging curtains. At dusk, Victor came straight from the gymnasium and said that the fifth-graders were smoking in the restroom and that the arithmetic teacher in their class was glued to a chair smeared with gum arabic. Victor was independent and absent-minded. He begged Nikita for a pocket knife with twelve blades and went “to a friend—you don’t know him”—to play with feathers.
At dusk Nikita sat by the window. The sunset outside the city was still the same rustic one. But Nikita, like Zheltukhin behind the gauze, felt like a captured prisoner, a stranger - just like Zheltukhin. Arkady Ivanovich entered the room, wearing a coat and a hat, in his hand he held a clean handkerchief, spreading the smell of cologne.
- I'm leaving, I'll be back around nine.
-Where are you going?
“To a place where I’m not yet.” He laughed. “What, brother, how Lilya received you, right into the pitchfork... Never mind, you’ll get over it.” And even this is partly good for losing the village fat... - He turned on his heel and left. In one day I became a completely different person.
That night Nikita dreamed that he was standing in front of Lily in a blue uniform with silver buttons and saying sternly:
- Here is your letter, take it.
But with these words he woke up and again saw himself walking along the glowing floor and saying to Lila:
- Take your letter.
Lily's long eyelashes rose and fell, her independent nose was proud and alien, but just about now her nose and her whole face would cease to be strangers and start laughing...
He woke up, looked around - a strange light from a street lamp lay on the wall... And again Nikita dreamed of the same thing. Never in reality had he loved this incomprehensible girl so much...
The next morning, mother, Arkady Ivanovich and Nikita went to the gymnasium and talked with the director, a thin, gray-haired, stern man who smelled of copper. A week later, Nikita passed the entrance exam and entered second grade...

Page 21 of 21

Tale: Nikita's Childhood

AT WHO

In the evening, Nikita returned from threshing with a cart of fresh wheat straw. A narrow strip of sunset, dim and autumn-crimson, burned over the steppe, over ancient mounds - traces of nomads who passed here in time immemorial.
At dusk, furrows of arable land could be seen in the deserted, compressed fields. Here and there, near the ground, the fire of the Plugar camp glowed red, and there was a bitter smoke. The cart creaked and swayed. Nikita lay on his back, closing his eyes. Fatigue hummed sweetly throughout my body. He half-asleeply recalled this day...
...Four pairs of strong mares walk in the circle of the threshing drive. In the middle, on the pivot, on the seat, Mishka Koryashonok slowly spins, shouts, cracks his whip.
An endless belt runs clapping from a wooden flywheel to a red thresher, as big as a house, shaking madly with straw walkers and sieves. The drum howls, sinks, hoots, the drum roars fiercely, audible far in the steppe - it devours the spread sheaves, drives straw and grain into the dusty depths of the threshing machine. Vasily Nikitievich himself asks, wearing thick glasses, elbow-length boots, a shirt stuck to his wet back, all dusty, with a chaff beard, and a black mouth. Creaking carts with sheaves arrive. Spreading his legs, the guy runs after the cart, grabbing a huge heap of straw, stands on the board and at a trot drags the straw to the sweepers. Old men throw blows with long wooden pitchforks. The worries, labors and anxieties of a whole year are over. All day long there are songs and jokes. The girls caught Artyom, throwing sheaves from the carts onto the flying threshing machines, between the carts, tickled him - he was afraid of tickling - knocked him down, and stuffed him with chaff under his clothes. That was a laugh!..
...Nikita opened his eyes. The cart swayed and creaked. It was now completely dark in the steppe. The entire sky is strewn with August constellations. The bottomless sky shimmered, as if a breeze was passing through star dust. The Milky Way is spread out with a luminous fog. On a cart, as if in a cradle, Nikita floated under the stars, calmly looking at distant worlds.
“All this is mine,” he thought, “someday I’ll board an airship and fly away...” And he began to imagine a flying ship with wings like a mouse, the black desert of the sky and the approaching azure coast of an unknown planet, silvery mountains, wonderful lakes , outlines of castles and figures and clouds flying over the water, such as occur at sunset.
The cart began to go downhill. Dogs wandered in the distance. There was a whiff of dampness from the ponds. We entered the yard. Warm, cozy light poured from the windows of the house, from the dining room.

DEPARTURE

Autumn came, the earth began to calm down. Later the sun rose, not warming, old - it no longer cared about the earth. The birds flew away. The garden was empty, the leaves were falling. They pulled the boat out of the pond and put it in the barn upside down.
In the mornings now, in places where the shadows from the roofs fell, the grass was gray, touched with frost. On the frost, on the autumn-green grass, geese walked to the pond; the geese grew fat and waddled around like lumps of snow. Twelve girls from the village were chopping cabbage in a large log near the people's room - they sang songs and banged their choppers throughout the yard. Dunyasha came running from the cellar where they were churning butter, gnawing on the stalks. She had become even more beautiful in the fall, and was blushing, and everyone knew that she was running to the servants’ quarters not to gnaw the stalks and laugh with the girls, but so that he could see from the window, the young worker Vasily, the same thing - blood and milk. Artyom completely hung his nose and repaired people’s clamps.
Mother moved to the winter quarters. The stoves in the house were flooded. Akhilka the hedgehog carried rags and pieces of paper under the sideboard and tried to go to bed for the whole winter. Arkady Ivanovich was whistling in his room. Nikita saw through the crack of the door: Arkady Ivanovich was standing in front of the mirror and, holding himself by the tip of his beard, whistled thoughtfully: clearly, the man was planning to get married.
Vasily Nikitievich sent a convoy with wheat to Samara and left the next day. Before leaving, he had great conversations with his mother. She was waiting for a letter from him.
A week later, Vasily Nikitievich wrote:
“I sold the bread, imagine - successfully, more expensive than Medvedev. The matter with the inheritance, as one might expect, has not moved one step forward. Therefore, of course, the second solution arises, which you so resisted, dear Sasha. We can’t live apart even this winter. I advise you to hurry up with your departure, since classes at the gymnasium have already begun. Only as a special exception will Nikita be allowed to take the entrance exam to the second grade. By the way, they offer me two amazing Chinese vases - these are for our city apartment; It’s only the fear that you’ll be angry that’s keeping me from buying for now.”
Mother did not hesitate for long. Anxiety about finding a lot of money in the hands of Vasily Nikitievich, and especially the danger of him buying Chinese vases that no one in the world needed, forced Alexandra Leontyevna to get ready in three days. Mother sent the furniture needed for the city, large chests, barrels of salting and livestock with the convoy. She rode forward lightly, in two troikas, with Nikita, Arkady Ivanovich and Vasilisa the cook. The day was gray and windy. There are desert stubble and arable fields all around. Mother felt sorry for the horses and rode at a jog. In Koldybani we spent the night at an inn. The next day, towards lunch, from across the flat edge of the steppe, from the gray haze, the domes of churches and the chimneys of steam mills rose. Mother was silent: she did not like the city, city life. Arkady Ivanovich bit his beard with impatience. We drove for a long time past greasy, stinking factories, past timber warehouses, passed a dirty settlement with taverns and grocery stores, crossed a wide bridge where the suburban boys and mustard plasters played pranks at night; Here are the gloomy log barns on the steep bank of the Samarka River - the tired horses climbed up the mountain, and the wheels rattled along the pavement. Cleanly dressed passers-by looked around in surprise at the mud-covered carriages. It began to seem to Nikita that both carriages were clumsy and ridiculous, that the horses were mismatched, rustic - if only they could turn off the main street! A black trotter harnessed to a varnished charabanc flew past, loudly clicking its horseshoes.
“Sergei Ivanovich, why are you going like that, hurry up,” said Nikita...
- And so we’ll get there.
Sergei Ivanovich sat sedately and strictly on the box, holding the troika at a trot. Finally, we turned into a side street, drove past a fire tower, where a big-faced guy in a Greek helmet stood at the gate, and stopped at a white one-story house with a cast-iron porch spanning the entire sidewalk. The joyful face of Vasily Nikitievich appeared in the window. He waved his hands, disappeared, and a minute later he opened the front door.
Nikita ran into the house first. The small, completely empty room, papered with white, was bright, smelled of oil paint, and on the shiny painted floor against the wall stood two Chinese vases that looked like wash jugs. At the end of the hall, in an arch with white columns reflected in the floor, a girl in a brown dress appeared. Her hands were folded under a white apron, and her yellow shoes were also reflected in the floor. Her hair was combed into a braid and there was a black bow at the back of her head behind her ears. The blue eyes looked sternly, they even squinted a little. It was Lily. Nikita stood in the middle of the hall, stuck to the floor. Lilya must have looked at him in the same way as passers-by on the main street looked at Sosnovsky tarantases.
– Did you receive my letter? – she asked. Nikita nodded to her. - Where is it? Give it this minute.
Although he didn’t have the letter with him, Nikita still rummaged in his pocket. Lilya looked attentively and angrily into his eyes...
“I wanted to answer, but...” Nikita muttered.
- Where is it?
- In a suitcase.
– If you don’t give it back today, everything is over between us... I really regret that I wrote to you... Now I have entered the first grade of the gymnasium.
She pursed her lips and stood on tiptoe. Only now Nikita realized: he didn’t answer the purple letter... He swallowed his drool, unstuck his feet from the mirror floor... Lilya immediately hid her hands again under her apron - her nose rose. The long eyelashes completely closed from contempt.
“Forgive me,” Nikita said, “I’m terrible, terrible... It’s all horses, reaping, threshing, Mishka Koryashonok...”
He turned purple and lowered his head. Lilya was silent. He felt disgusted with himself, like he was disgusted with cow dung. But at that time, Anna Apollosovna’s voice boomed in the hallway, greetings and kisses were heard, the heavy steps of coachmen carrying suitcases were heard... Lilya angrily and quickly whispered:
- They see us... You are impossible... Take on a cheerful look... maybe I will forgive you this time...
And she ran into the hallway. From there, her thin voice rang through the empty, echoing rooms:
– Hello, Aunt Sasha, welcome!
Thus began the first day of a new life. Instead of a calm, joyful village expanse - seven cramped, uninhabited rooms, outside the window, dray trucks thundering on the cobblestones and hurrying, all dressed like the zemstvo doctor from Pestravka, Verinosov, anxious people running, covering their mouths with their collars from the wind carrying papers and dust. Bustle, noise, excited conversations. Even the hours moved differently here—they flew. Nikita and Arkady Ivanovich were arranging Nikitin’s room - arranging furniture and books, hanging curtains. At dusk, Victor came straight from the gymnasium and said that the fifth-graders were smoking in the restroom and that the arithmetic teacher in their class was glued to a chair smeared with gum arabic. Victor was independent and absent-minded. He begged Nikita for a pocket knife with twelve blades and went “to a friend—you don’t know him”—to play with feathers.
At dusk Nikita sat by the window. The sunset outside the city was still the same rustic one. But Nikita, like Zheltukhin behind the gauze, felt like a captured prisoner, a stranger - just like Zheltukhin. Arkady Ivanovich entered the room, wearing a coat and a hat, in his hand he held a clean handkerchief, spreading the smell of cologne.
- I'm leaving, I'll be back around nine.
-Where are you going?
- To a place where I am not yet. - He laughed. - Well, brother, how Lilya received you - right into the pitchfork... It’s okay, you’ll calm yourself down. And even this is partly good for losing the village fat... - He turned on his heel and walked out. In one day I became a completely different person.
That night Nikita dreamed that he was standing in front of Lily in a blue uniform with silver buttons and saying sternly:
- Here is your letter, take it.
But with these words he woke up and again saw himself walking along the glowing floor and saying to Lila:
- Take your letter.
Lily’s long eyelashes rose and fell, her independent nose was proud and alien, but now her nose and her whole face would cease to be strangers and start laughing...
He woke up, looked around - a strange light from a street lamp lay on the wall... And again Nikita dreamed of the same thing. Never in reality had he loved this incomprehensible girl so much...
The next morning, mother, Arkady Ivanovich and Nikita went to the gymnasium and talked with the director, a thin, gray-haired, stern man who smelled of copper. A week later, Nikita passed the entrance exam and entered second grade...

mown grass; shot sparrow - shot bird; frightened-
naya crow - a frightened horse; slaked or quicklime
- extinguished fire; woven tablecloth - woven carpet; burn-
hot coffee - burnt letter; smoked sausage - smoked
walls; spoiled child - spoiled child - girl hut-
loved by parents; forged sword - unwrought iron - forged
movements; bobbed boy - polka-cropped hair
- shorn head; distilled water; lined tet-
for the sake of; paved street.
II. Well-mannered - a pupil; boiled - dumpling; oil-
ny - Maslenitsa; messenger - messenger.
№ 275. I. 1) The day was gray and windy. Desert stubble all around
and arable land. 2) In a small one, papered with white, completely empty
the room was light, there was a smell of oil paint, on the shiny, painted
There were two Chinese vases on the floor near the wall. 3) For stables, barns and
kitchens, full-weight logs were used, determined on the
forged position... Everything was fitted tightly and properly. 4) Desperately
Nikita threw himself onto the floor with a loud cry. 5) Smart boy
The sailor liked it. 6) A nanny met him [Dubrovsky] in the entryway and
she hugged her pupil with tears. 7) What is a station
caretaker? A real martyr of the fourteenth grade. 8) Hall and state
the shadows were dark.
II. 1) Ivan Ilyich and Dasha settled on a farm in a mud hut.
2) Alexey unwrapped the rag and took out a blued watch. 3) It’s incomprehensible
his gray hair fell over his eyes in a whole wave. 4) There were you in the house
lush rooms with whitewashed walls and unpainted floors.
5) I will never forget this fabulous walk among high society
hay on sand mixed with pine needles. 6) The candle was extinguished.
7) The steppe was deserted, terribly quiet.
№ 276. Sometimes I found him [Karl Ivanovich] and at such moments,
when he wasn't reading; glasses descended lower on a large aquiline nose,
blue half-closed eyes looked with some special expression
marriage, and her lips smiled sadly. The room is quiet; just audible
his even breathing and the striking of the clock with the huntsman. On the other wall you can see
landcards sat down, all almost torn, but skillfully glued with paper
Coy Karl Ivanovich. On the third wall, in the middle of which there was
the door was down, on one side there were two rulers: one was cut,
ours, the other is new, his own, used by him more
for encouragement than for lining, on the other - a black board.
In the middle of the room stood a table covered with torn black
oilcloth, from under which the edges were visible in many places, from
84
cut with penknives. Around the table there were several non-
painted, but from long use of varnished stools.
The last wall was occupied by three windows. This is what the view was like
them: right under the windows there is a road on which every pothole, every
pebble, every rut has long been familiar and dear to me; behind the road -
a trimmed linden alley, from behind which in some places one can see a wicker
palisade; A meadow is also visible across the alley. ( Narration with elements
descriptions.)
№ 277. I. To grow fierce - becoming fierce; shout - shouting; running is not allowed;
rumble - rumble; preach - preaching; manage -
in charge; brake - braking; it is impossible to preserve; look - behind -
looking; hitting is not allowed; to be – being; acknowledge - recognizing;
squeal - squeal; mark - marking; throw - throwing; murmur - murmur -
now; chirp - chirp; freezing is not allowed; worry - worry
nagging.
II. Take out - take out; dispel - dispelling; develop - having developed;
become weak - become weak; weaken - weakened; save - save
regshi; touch - touching; harness - harnessed; recorded
lock - lock, lock; renounce - having renounced; meet -
having met; take away - taking away; rake out - rake out, rake out; behind-
puff - out of breath; sit down - crouching; escape - having escaped;
stay - staying, weave - weaving.
№ 278. 1) As soon as it was light I got up and, having hastily drank some tea, went into
path. 2) Having chosen a dry sandy shore somewhere, I ordered
boat to moor to it. 3) Large spiral circles on-
He [the eagle] began to descend from under the clouds and, sitting calmly on the ground,
immediately calmed down the argument and fight between the crows, beginning to finish eating himself
the rest of the fish. 4) The offended crows sat around, croaked,
daring to approach the stern king, and only occasionally snatched away from behind
small pieces. 5) Leaving the village of Nikolskaya, I swam
down the river. 6) At night, burning fires represent a magnificent
picture. Wriggling like a snake, a fiery stream runs and suddenly, meeting
masses of drier and taller grass, flares up with a bright flame and
again moves further in a narrow ribbon. 7) Rising with the sunrise
sun and indicating the direction in which to go, we send
walked forward with a friend.
Removed - verb.
1. N.f. - calm down.
2. Post. signs: owl. view, 1 reference, transition, non-return
3. Non-post. signs: will reveal. incl., units h., past vr., husband R.
4. He (did what?) calmed down.