Once upon a time there lived a frog frog. She sat in the swamp, caught mosquitoes and midges, in the spring she croaked loudly with her friends. And she would have lived happily for the whole century - of course, if the stork had not eaten her. But one incident happened.

One day she was sitting on a twig of driftwood sticking out of the water and enjoying the warm fine rain.

“Oh, what a beautiful wet weather today! she thought. “What a pleasure it is to live in the world.”

The rain was drizzling down her mottled lacquered back; drops of it dripped under her belly and behind her paws, and it was deliciously pleasant, so pleasant that she almost croaked, but, fortunately, she remembered that it was already autumn and that frogs do not croak in autumn - there is spring for that. So she kept silent and continued to bask.

Suddenly a thin, hissing, intermittent sound resounded in the air. There is such a breed of ducks: when they fly, their wings, cutting through the air, seem to sing, or, better, whistle; phu-fuu-fuu-fuu - is heard in the air when a herd of such ducks flies high above you, and you can’t even see them themselves: they fly so high. This time the ducks, having described a huge semicircle, descended and sat down just in the very swamp where the frog lived.

- Quack quack! one of them said. - It's still a long way to go, you need to eat.

And the frog immediately hid. Although she knew that the ducks would not eat her, a big and fat frog, but still, just in case, she dived under a snag.

However, on reflection, she decided to stick her pop-eyed head out of the water: she was very interested to know where the ducks were flying.

- Quack quack! another duck said. - It's getting cold! Hurry south! Hurry south!

And all the ducks began to quack loudly in approval.

“Lady ducks,” the frog dared to say, “what is the south to which you are flying?” I apologize for the inconvenience.

And the ducks surrounded the frog. At first they had a desire to eat it, but each of them thought that the frog was too big and would not fit into the throat. Then they all began to shout, flapping their wings:

– Good in the south! Now it's warm! There are such glorious, warm swamps! What kind of worms are there! Good in the south!

They screamed so much that they almost stunned the frog. As soon as she persuaded them to shut up, she asked one of them, who seemed to her fatter and smarter than everyone else, to explain to her what the south is. And when she told her about the south, the frog was delighted, but in the end she still asked, because she was careful:

- Are there many midges and mosquitoes there?

- O! whole clouds! - replied the duck.

- Qua! - said the frog and immediately turned around to see if there were any friends here who could hear her and condemn her for croaking in the fall. She couldn't stop herself from croaking at least once. - Take me with you!

- It's amazing to me! the duck exclaimed. How can we take you? You don't have wings.

– When are you flying? the frog asked.

- Soon soon! all the ducks screamed. - Quack quack! Quack! Quack! It is cold here! South! South!

“Let me think for just five minutes,” said the frog, “I’ll be right back, I’ll probably come up with something good.”

And she plopped down from the branch, on which she climbed again, into the water, dived into the mud and completely buried herself in it so that foreign objects would not interfere with her thinking. Five minutes passed, the ducks were just about to fly, when suddenly out of the water, near the branch on which the frog was sitting, its muzzle appeared, and the expression of this muzzle was the most radiant that a frog is capable of.

- I've figured it out! I found! - she said. “Let two of you take a twig in your beaks, and I will cling to it in the middle. You will fly and I will drive. It is only necessary that you do not quack, and I do not croak, and everything will be fine.

Although being silent and dragging even a light frog of three thousand miles is not God knows what a pleasure, but her mind led the ducks to such delight that they unanimously agreed to carry her. They decided to take turns every two hours, and since there were, as the riddle says, so many ducks, and so many more, half as many, and a quarter as many, and there was only one frog, it was not necessary to carry it very often. They found a good, strong twig, two ducks took it in their beaks, the frog clung to the middle with its mouth, and the whole herd rose into the air. The frog was breathless from the terrible height to which it was raised; in addition, the ducks flew unevenly and pulled the twig; the poor frog was dangling in the air like a paper clown, and with all her urine she clenched her jaws so as not to tear herself away and plop down on the ground. However, she soon got used to her position and even began to look around. Fields, meadows, rivers and mountains quickly swept under her, which, however, it was very difficult for her to see, because, hanging on a twig, she looked back and a little up, but she still saw something and rejoiced and was proud.

"That's how I came up with an excellent idea," she thought to herself.

And the ducks flew after the front pair carrying her, shouted and praised her.

- Marvelous clever mind our frog, they said. “Even among the ducks, there are few of them.

She could hardly restrain herself from thanking them, but remembering that if she opened her mouth she would fall from a terrible height, she clenched her jaw even tighter and decided to endure. She hung out in this way all day; the ducks carrying it changed on the fly, deftly picking up the twig; it was very frightening: more than once the frog almost croaked with fear, but it was necessary to have the presence of mind, and she had it. In the evening, the whole company stopped in some kind of swamp; at dawn, the ducks with the frog set off again, but this time the traveler, in order to better see what was happening on the way, clung to her back and head forward, and her belly back. Ducks flew over harvested fields, over yellowed forests and over villages full of bread in stacks; from there came the sound of people talking and the sound of flails with which they threshed rye. People looked at the flock of ducks and, noticing something strange in it, pointed at it with their hands.

And the frog terribly wanted to fly closer to the earth, show himself and listen to what they say about him. On the next holiday she said:

“Can’t we fly not so high?” I'm dizzy from the height, and I'm afraid to fall if I suddenly feel sick.

And good ducks promised her to fly lower. The next day they flew so low that they heard voices.

“Look, look,” shouted children in one village, “ducks are carrying a frog!”

The frog heard this and her heart skipped a beat.

“Look, look,” adults in another village shouted, “this is a miracle!”

“Do they know I came up with this, not the ducks?” thought the frog.

“Look, look,” they shouted in the third village, “what a miracle! And who came up with such a cunning thing?

Then the frog could not stand it and, forgetting all caution, screamed with all his might:

- It's me! I! I!

And with that cry, she flew upside down to the ground. The ducks screamed loudly; one of them wanted to catch the poor companion on the fly, but missed. The frog, jerking all four legs, quickly fell to the ground; but since the ducks were flying very fast, she did not fall directly on the place over which she screamed and where there was a hard road, but much further, which was great happiness for her, because she flopped into a dirty pond at the edge of the village.

She soon emerged from the water and immediately again shouted in a rage at the top of her lungs:

- It's me! This is what I came up with!

But there was no one around her. Frightened by the unexpected splash, the local frogs all hid in the water. When they began to emerge from it, they looked with surprise at the new one.

And she told them a wonderful story about how she thought all her life and finally invented a new, unusual way of traveling on ducks; how she had her own ducks to carry her wherever she pleased; how did she visit beautiful south, where it is so good, where there are such beautiful, warm marshes and so many midges and all sorts of other edible insects.

“I stopped by to see how you are doing,” she said. - I will stay with you until spring, until my ducks, which I released, return.

But the ducks never returned. They thought that the wah had crashed on the ground, and they were very sorry for her.

(1855-1888)

Once upon a time there lived a frog frog. She sat in the swamp, caught mosquitoes and midges, in the spring she croaked loudly with her friends. And she would have lived happily for the whole century - of course, if the stork had not eaten her. But one incident happened.

One day she was sitting on a piece of driftwood sticking out of the water and enjoying the warm fine rain.

“Oh, what a beautiful wet weather today! she thought. “What a pleasure it is to live in the world!”

The rain was drizzling down her mottled lacquered back; drops of it dripped under her belly and behind her paws, and it was deliciously pleasant, so pleasant that she almost croaked, but, fortunately, she remembered that it was already autumn and that frogs do not croak in autumn - there is spring for this , - and that, by croaking, she can drop her frog dignity. So she kept silent and continued to bask.

Suddenly a thin, hissing, intermittent sound resounded in the air. There is such a breed of ducks: when they fly, their wings, cutting through the air, seem to sing, or, better, whistle. Fu-fu-fu-fu - is heard in the air when a herd of such ducks flies high above you, and you can’t even see them themselves, so they fly high. This time the ducks, having described a huge semicircle, descended and sat down just in the very swamp where the frog lived.

Quack quack! - said one of them, - It's still far to fly; gotta eat.

And the frog immediately hid. Although she knew that the ducks would not eat her, a big and fat frog, but still, just in case, she dived under a snag. However, on reflection, she decided to stick her pop-eyed head out of the water: she was very interested to know where the ducks were flying.

Quack quack! - said another duck, - it's already getting cold! Hurry south! Hurry south!

And all the ducks began to quack loudly in approval.

Miss ducks! - the frog dared to say, - what is the south to which you are flying? I apologize for the inconvenience.

And the ducks surrounded the frog. At first they had a desire to eat it, but each of them thought that the frog was too big and would not fit into the throat. Then they all began to shout, flapping their wings:

Good in the south! Now it's warm! There are such glorious warm swamps! What kind of worms are there! Good in the south!

They screamed so much that they almost stunned the frog. As soon as she persuaded them to shut up, she asked one of them, who seemed to her fatter and smarter than everyone else, to explain to her what the south is. And when she told her about the south, the frog was delighted, but in the end she still asked, because she was careful:

Are there a lot of midges and mosquitoes there?

O! whole clouds! - replied the duck.

Qua! - said the frog and immediately turned around to see if there were any friends here who could hear her and condemn her for croaking in the fall. She couldn't stop herself from croaking at least once.

Take me with you!

This is amazing to me! - exclaimed the duck. - How can we take you? You don't have wings.

When are you flying? asked the frog.

Soon soon! - shouted all the ducks. - Quack quack! quack! quack! It is cold here! South! South!

Let me think for five minutes only, - said the frog, - I'll be right back, I'll probably come up with something good.

And she plopped down from the branch, on which she climbed again, into the water, dived into the mud and completely buried herself in it so that foreign objects would not interfere with her thinking. Five minutes passed, the ducks were about to fly, when suddenly, from the water, near the branch on which she was sitting, her face appeared, and the expression of this face was the most radiant that a frog is capable of.

I came up with! I found! - she said. - Let two of you take a twig in your beaks, and I will cling to it in the middle. You will fly and I will drive. It is only necessary that you do not quack, and I do not croak, and everything will be fine.

Although being silent and dragging even a light frog of three thousand miles is not God knows what a pleasure, but her mind led the ducks to such delight that they unanimously agreed to carry her. They decided to take turns every two hours, and since there were, as the riddle says, so many ducks, and so many more, but half as many, yes a quarter as many, and there was only one frog, it was not necessary to carry it very often. They found a good, strong twig, two ducks took it in their beaks, the frog clung to the middle with its mouth, and the whole herd rose into the air. The frog was breathless from the terrible height to which it was raised; in addition, the ducks flew unevenly and pulled the twig; the poor frog was dangling in the air like a paper clown, and with all her urine she clenched her jaws so as not to tear herself away and plop down on the ground. However, she soon got used to her position and even began to look around. Fields, meadows, rivers and mountains quickly swept under her, which, however, it was very difficult for her to see, because, hanging on a twig, she looked back and a little up, but she still saw something and rejoiced and was proud.

"That's how I came up with an excellent idea," she thought to herself.

And the ducks flew after the front pair carrying her, shouted and praised her.

Our frog has an amazingly smart head, they said, even among ducks there are few of them.

She barely restrained herself from thanking them, but remembering that, opening her mouth, she would fall from a terrible height, she clenched her jaw even tighter and decided to endure. She dangled in this way all day long: the ducks carrying her changed on the fly, deftly picking up the twig; it was very frightening: more than once the frog almost croaked with fear, but it was necessary to have the presence of mind, and she had it. In the evening, the whole company stopped in some kind of swamp; at dawn, the ducks with the frog set off again, but this time the traveler, in order to better see what was happening on the way, clung to her back and head forward, and her belly back. Ducks flew over harvested fields, over yellowed forests and over villages full of bread in stacks; from there came the sound of people talking and the sound of flails with which they threshed rye. People looked at the flock of ducks and, noticing something strange in it, pointed at it with their hands. And the frog terribly wanted to fly closer to the earth, show himself and listen to what they say about him. On her next vacation she said:

Can't we fly not so high? I'm dizzy from the height, and I'm afraid to fall if I suddenly feel sick.

And good ducks promised her to fly lower. The next day they flew so low that they heard voices:

Look, look! - shouted children in one village, - ducks carry a frog!

The frog heard this and her heart skipped a beat.

Look, look! adults shouted in another village, “what a miracle!”

“Do they know I came up with this, not the ducks?” thought the frog.

Look, look! - shouted in the third village. - What a miracle! And who came up with such a cunning thing?

Then the frog could no longer stand it and, forgetting all caution, screamed with all his might:

It's me! I!

And with that cry, she flew upside down to the ground. The ducks screamed loudly; one of them wanted to catch the poor companion on the fly, but missed. The frog, jerking all four legs, quickly fell to the ground; but since the ducks were flying very fast, she did not fall directly on the place over which she screamed and where there was a hard road, but much further, which was great happiness for her, because she flopped into a dirty pond at the edge of the village.

She soon emerged from the water and immediately again shouted in a rage at the top of her lungs:

It's me! This is what I came up with!

But there was no one around her. Frightened by the unexpected splash, the local frogs all hid in the water. When they began to emerge from it, they looked with surprise at the new one.

And she told them a wonderful story about how she thought all her life and finally invented a new, unusual way of traveling on ducks; how she had her own ducks to carry her wherever she pleased; how she visited the beautiful south, where it is so good, where there are such beautiful warm swamps and so many midges and all kinds of other edible insects.

I stopped by to see how you live, she said. - I will stay with you until spring, until my ducks, which I released, return.

But the ducks never returned. They thought that the wah had crashed on the ground, and they were very sorry for her.

The brave frog decided to travel with wild ducks to warm climes. Two ducks carried a traveler on a twig, but she began to show off and fell into the swamp, where she told local residents all sorts of fantasies.

Fairy tale Frog-traveler download:

Fairy tale Traveler frog read

Once upon a time there lived a frog frog. She sat in the swamp, caught mosquitoes and midges, in the spring she croaked loudly with her friends. And she would have lived happily for the whole century - of course, if the stork had not eaten her. But one incident happened.

One day she was sitting on a twig of driftwood sticking out of the water and enjoying the warm fine rain.

Oh, what a beautiful wet weather today! she thought. - What a pleasure it is to live in the world!

The rain drizzled down her mottled lacquered back, drops of it dripped under her belly and behind her paws, and it was deliciously pleasant, so pleasant that she almost croaked, but, fortunately, she remembered that it was already autumn and that frogs do not croak - there is a spring for this - and that, by croaking, she can drop her frog dignity. So she kept silent and continued to bask.

Suddenly a thin, hissing, intermittent sound resounded in the air. There is such a breed of ducks: when they fly, their wings, cutting through the air, seem to sing, or, better, whistle. Phew-fuyu-fuyu-fuyu - is heard in the air when a herd of such ducks flies high above you, and you can’t even see them themselves, they fly so high. This time the ducks, having described a huge semicircle, sank down and sat down just in the very swamp where the frog lived.

Quack quack! - said one of them, - It's still far to fly; gotta eat.

And the frog immediately hid. Although she knew that the ducks would not eat her, a big and fat frog, but still, just in case, she dived under a snag. However, after thinking, she decided to stick her pop-eyed head out of the water: she was very interested to know where the ducks were flying.

Quack quack! - said another duck, - it's already getting cold! Hurry south! Hurry south!

And all the ducks began to quack loudly in approval.

Miss ducks! - the frog dared to say, - what is the south to which you are flying? I apologize for the inconvenience.

And the ducks surrounded the frog. At first they had a desire to eat it, but each of them thought that the frog was too big and would not fit into the throat. Then they all began to shout, flapping their wings:

Good in the south! Now it's warm! There are such glorious warm swamps! What kind of worms are there! Good in the south!

They screamed so much that they almost stunned the frog. As soon as she persuaded them to shut up, she asked one of them, who seemed to her fatter and smarter than everyone else, to explain to her what the south is. And when she told her about the south, the frog was delighted, but in the end she still asked, because she was careful:

Are there a lot of midges and mosquitoes there?

O! whole clouds! - replied the duck.

Qua! - said the frog and immediately turned around to see if there were any friends here who could hear her and condemn her for croaking in the fall. She couldn't stop herself from croaking at least once.

Take me with you!

This is amazing to me! - exclaimed the duck. - How can we take you? You don't have wings.

When are you flying? asked the frog.

Soon soon! - shouted all the ducks. - Quack! Quack! Quack! It is cold here! South! South!

Let me think for five minutes only, - said the frog, - I'll be right back, I'll probably come up with something good.

And she plopped down from the branch, on which she climbed again, into the water, dived into the mud and completely buried herself in it so that foreign objects would not interfere with her thinking. Five minutes passed, the ducks were about to fly, when suddenly, from the water, near the branch on which she was sitting, her muzzle appeared, and the expression of this muzzle was the most radiant that a frog is capable of.

I came up with! I found! - she said. - Let two of you take a twig in your beaks, I will cling to it in the middle. You will fly and I will drive. It is only necessary that you do not quack, and I do not croak, and everything will be fine.

They found a good, strong twig, two ducks took it in their beaks, the frog clung to the middle with its mouth, and the whole herd rose into the air. The frog was breathless at the terrible height to which it was raised; besides, the ducks flew unevenly and pulled the twig; the poor frog was dangling in the air like a paper clown, and with all her urine she clenched her jaws so as not to tear herself away and plop down on the ground. However, she soon got used to her position and even began to look around. Fields, meadows, rivers and mountains quickly swept under her, which, however, it was very difficult for her to see, because, hanging on a twig, she looked back and a little up, but she still saw something and rejoiced and was proud.

This is how I came up with an excellent idea, she thought to herself.

And the ducks flew after the front pair carrying her, shouted and praised her.

Our frog has an amazingly clever head, they said, even among ducks there are few of them.

She barely restrained herself from thanking them, but remembering that if she opened her mouth she would fall from a terrible height, she clenched her jaw even tighter and decided to endure.

Ducks flew over harvested fields, over yellowed forests and over villages full of bread in stacks; from there came the sound of people talking and the sound of flails with which they threshed rye. People looked at the flock of ducks and the frog really wanted to fly closer to the ground, show himself and listen to what they say about him. On her next vacation she said:

Can't we fly not so high? I'm dizzy from the height, and I'm afraid to fall if I suddenly feel sick.

And good ducks promised her to fly lower. The next day they flew so low that they heard voices:

Look, look! - shouted children in one village, - ducks carry a frog!

The frog heard this and her heart skipped a beat.

Look, look! adults shouted in another village, “what a miracle!”

Do they know I came up with this, not the ducks? thought the frog.

Look, look! - shouted in the third village. - What a miracle! And who came up with such a cunning thing?

Then the frog could not stand it and, forgetting all caution, screamed with all his might:

It's me! I!

And with that cry, she flew upside down to the ground. The ducks screamed loudly, one of them wanted to catch the poor companion on the fly, but missed. The frog, twitching all four legs, quickly fell to the ground; but since the ducks were flying very fast, she did not fall directly on the place where she screamed and where there was a hard road, but much further, which was great happiness for her, because she flopped into a dirty pond at the edge of the village.

She soon emerged from the water and immediately again shouted in a rage at the top of her lungs:

It's me! This is what I came up with!

But there was no one around her. Frightened by the unexpected splash, the local frogs all hid in the water. When they began to emerge from the water, they looked with surprise at the new one.

And she told them a wonderful story about how she thought all her life and finally invented a new, unusual way of traveling on ducks; how she had her own ducks that carried her anywhere; how she visited the beautiful south, where it is so good, where there are such beautiful warm swamps and so many midges and all kinds of other edible insects.

I stopped by to see how you live, she said. - I'll stay with you until spring, until the ducks that I let go return.

But the ducks never returned. They thought that the wah had crashed on the ground, and they were very sorry for her.

• • Russians folk talesRussian folk tales The world of fairy tales is amazing. Is it possible to imagine our life without fairy tales? A fairy tale is not just entertainment. She tells us about the extremely important things in life, teaches us to be kind and fair, to protect the weak, to resist evil, to despise the cunning and flatterers. The fairy tale teaches to be faithful, honest, makes fun of our vices: boasting, greed, hypocrisy, laziness. For centuries, fairy tales have been passed down orally. One person came up with a fairy tale, told another, that person added something from himself, retold it to a third, and so on. Each time the story got better and better. It turns out that the fairy tale was invented not by one person, but by many. different people, people, that's why they began to call it - “folk”. Fairy tales originated in ancient times. They were the stories of hunters, trappers and fishermen. In fairy tales - animals, trees and herbs talk like people. And in a fairy tale, everything is possible. If you want to be young, eat rejuvenating apples. It is necessary to revive the princess - sprinkle her first with dead, and then with living water ... The fairy tale teaches us to distinguish good from bad, good from evil, ingenuity from stupidity. A fairy tale teaches not to despair in difficult moments and always overcome difficulties. The tale teaches how important it is for every person to have friends. And the fact that if you do not leave a friend in trouble, then he will help you ...
  • Tales of Aksakov Sergei Timofeevich Tales of Aksakov S.T. Sergey Aksakov wrote very few fairy tales, but it was this author who wrote a wonderful fairy tale " The Scarlet Flower and we immediately understand what talent this man had. Aksakov himself told how in childhood he fell ill and the housekeeper Pelageya was invited to him, who composed different stories and fairy tales. The boy liked the story about the Scarlet Flower so much that when he grew up, he wrote down the story of the housekeeper from memory, and as soon as it was published, the tale became a favorite among many boys and girls. This tale was first published in 1858, and then many cartoons were made based on this tale.
  • Tales of the Brothers Grimm Tales of the Brothers Grimm Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm are the greatest German storytellers. The brothers published their first collection of fairy tales in 1812 on German. This collection includes 49 fairy tales. The Grimm brothers began recording fairy tales regularly in 1807. Fairy tales immediately gained immense popularity among the population. The wonderful fairy tales of the Brothers Grimm, obviously, have been read by each of us. Their interesting and informative stories awaken the imagination, and the simple language of the story is clear even to kids. Fairy tales are for readers different ages. In the collection of the Brothers Grimm there are stories that are understandable for kids, but there are also for older people. The Grimm brothers were fond of collecting and studying folk tales back in student years. The glory of the great storytellers brought them three collections of "Children's and family tales» (1812, 1815, 1822). Among them " The Bremen Town Musicians”, “Pot of Porridge”, “Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs”, “Hansel and Gretel”, “Bob, Straw and Coal”, “Lady Snowstorm”, - about 200 fairy tales in total.
  • Tales of Valentin Kataev Fairy tales by Valentin Kataev Writer Valentin Kataev lived a long and beautiful life. He left books, by reading which we can learn to live with taste, without missing the interesting that surrounds us every day and every hour. There was a period in Kataev's life, about 10 years, when he wrote wonderful fairy tales for children. The main characters of fairy tales are the family. They show love, friendship, belief in magic, miracles, relationships between parents and children, relationships between children and people they meet on their way, which help them grow up and learn something new. After all, Valentin Petrovich himself was left without a mother very early. Valentin Kataev is the author of fairy tales: “A pipe and a jug” (1940), “A flower - a seven-flower” (1940), “Pearl” (1945), “Stump” (1945), “Dove” (1949).
  • Tales of Wilhelm Hauff Tales of Wilhelm Hauff Hauff Wilhelm (29.11.1802 - 18.11.1827) - German writer, best known as the author of fairy tales for children. Considered a representative of the artistic literary style Biedermeier. Wilhelm Gauf is not so famous and popular world storyteller, but the tales of Gauf must be read to children. In his works, the author, with the subtlety and unobtrusiveness of a real psychologist, put a deep meaning that prompts reflection. Hauff wrote his Märchen for the children of Baron Hegel - fairy tales, they were first published in the Almanac of Tales of January 1826 for the Sons and Daughters of Noble Estates. There were such works by Gauf as "Caliph-Stork", " Little Muck”, some others that immediately gained popularity in German-speaking countries. Focusing initially on oriental folklore, later he begins to use European legends in fairy tales.
  • Tales of Vladimir Odoevsky Tales of Vladimir Odoevsky In the history of Russian culture, Vladimir Odoevsky entered as a literary and musical critic, prose writer, museum and library worker. He did a lot for Russian children's literature. During his lifetime, he published several books for children's reading: "Town in a snuffbox" (1834-1847), "Tales and stories for children of grandfather Iriney" (1838-1840), "Collection of children's songs of grandfather Iriney" (1847), "Children's book for Sundays» (1849). Creating fairy tales for children, V. F. Odoevsky often turned to folklore stories. And not only to the Russians. The most popular are two fairy tales by V. F. Odoevsky - “Moroz Ivanovich” and “The Town in a Snuffbox”.
  • Tales of Vsevolod Garshin Tales of Vsevolod Garshin Garshin V.M. - Russian writer, poet, critic. Fame gained after the publication of his first work "4 days". The number of fairy tales written by Garshin is not at all large - only five. And almost all of them are school curriculum. Fairy tales “The Traveling Frog”, “The Tale of the Toad and the Rose”, “That which was not” are known to every child. All Garshin's tales are imbued with deep meaning, the designation of facts without unnecessary metaphors and the all-consuming sadness that passes through each of his tales, each story.
  • Tales of Hans Christian Andersen Tales of Hans Christian Andersen Hans Christian Andersen (1805-1875) - Danish writer, storyteller, poet, playwright, essayist, author worldwide famous fairy tales for children and adults. Reading Andersen's fairy tales is fascinating at any age, and they give children and adults the freedom to fly dreams and fantasies. In every fairy tale of Hans Christian there are deep thoughts about the meaning of life, human morality, sin and virtues, often not noticeable at first glance. Andersen's most popular fairy tales: The Little Mermaid, Thumbelina, Nightingale, Swineherd, Chamomile, Flint, Wild Swans, Tin Soldier, Princess and the Pea, Ugly Duckling.
  • Tales of Mikhail Plyatskovsky Tales of Mikhail Plyatskovsky Mikhail Spartakovich Plyatskovsky - Soviet poet- songwriter, playwright Even in his student years, he began to compose songs - both poems and melodies. The first professional song "March of Cosmonauts" was written in 1961 with S. Zaslavsky. There is hardly a person who has never heard such lines: "it's better to sing in unison", "friendship begins with a smile." Little raccoon from Soviet cartoon and the cat Leopold sing songs based on the verses of the popular songwriter Mikhail Spartakovich Plyatskovsky. Plyatskovsky's fairy tales teach children the rules and norms of behavior, simulate familiar situations and introduce them to the world. Some stories not only teach kindness, but also ridicule bad traits the nature of children.
  • Tales of Samuil Marshak Tales of Samuil Marshak Samuil Yakovlevich Marshak (1887 - 1964) - Russian Soviet poet, translator, playwright, literary critic. Known as the author of fairy tales for children, satirical works, as well as "adult", serious lyrics. Among Marshak's dramatic works, the fairy tale plays "Twelve Months", "Clever Things", "Cat's House" are especially popular. Marshak's poems and fairy tales begin to be read from the very first days in kindergartens, then they are put on lower grades learn by heart.
  • Tales of Gennady Mikhailovich Tsyferov Tales of Gennady Mikhailovich Tsyferov Gennady Mikhailovich Tsyferov - Soviet storyteller, screenwriter, playwright. Most big success Animation brought Gennady Mikhailovich. During the cooperation with the Soyuzmultfilm studio, in collaboration with Genrikh Sapgir, more than twenty-five cartoons were released, including "The Train from Romashkov", "My Green Crocodile", "Like a Frog Looking for Dad", "Losharik", "How to become big" . Cute and good stories Tsyferov are familiar to each of us. The heroes who live in the books of this wonderful children's writer will always come to the aid of each other. His famous fairy tales: “There was an elephant in the world”, “About a chicken, the sun and a bear cub”, “About an eccentric frog”, “About a steamboat”, “A story about a pig”, etc. Collections of fairy tales: “How a frog was looking for dad”, “ Multi-colored giraffe”, “Engine from Romashkovo”, “How to become big and other stories”, “Bear cub diary”.
  • Tales of Sergei Mikhalkov Tales of Sergei Mikhalkov Mikhalkov Sergei Vladimirovich (1913 - 2009) - writer, writer, poet, fabulist, playwright, war correspondent during the Great Patriotic War, lyricist of two hymns Soviet Union and anthem Russian Federation. They begin to read Mikhalkov's poems in the kindergarten, choosing "Uncle Styopa" or the equally famous rhyme "What do you have?". The author takes us back to the Soviet past, but over the years his works do not become obsolete, but only acquire charm. Mikhalkov's children's poems have long become classics.
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  • Tales of Tolstoy Alexei Nikolaevich Tales of Tolstoy Alexei Nikolaevich Tolstoy A.N. - a Russian writer, an extremely versatile and prolific writer who wrote in all kinds and genres (two collections of poems, more than forty plays, scripts, fairy tales, journalistic and other articles, etc.), primarily a prose writer, a master of fascinating narration. Genres in creativity: prose, short story, story, play, libretto, satire, essay, journalism, historical novel, Science fiction, fairy tale, poem. popular tale Tolstoy A. N .: "The Golden Key, or the Adventures of Pinocchio", which is a successful alteration of the fairy tale Italian writer XIX century. Collodi "Pinocchio", entered the golden fund of world children's literature.
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• • Poems by Agnia Barto Poems by Agnia Barto Children's poems by Agnia Barto are known and dearly loved by us from the deepest childhood. The writer is amazing and multifaceted, she does not repeat herself, although her style can be recognized from thousands of authors. Agnia Barto's poems for children are always a new and fresh idea, and the writer brings it to her children as the most precious thing she has, sincerely, with love. It is a pleasure to read the poems and fairy tales of Agniya Barto. Easy and relaxed style is very popular with kids. Most often, short quatrains are easy to remember, helping to develop the memory and speech of children.

Fairy tale frog-traveler

Garshin Vsevolod Mikhailovich

Fairy tale Frog-traveler summary:

The tale "The Traveling Frog" is about a frog that is tired of sitting in its swamp and wants to fly south, where it is warm and full of midges and mosquitoes. She persuaded ducks to do this, which were just flying south. Two ducks took a strong thin twig in their beak from different ends, and in the middle the frog grabbed the rod with its mouth. But the frog-traveler could not get to the south, because on the second day of the flight, when everyone began to admire and ask - “Who invented this way of flying?”, The frog could not restrain her pride, opened her mouth and told everyone that it was she thought of it. But, opening her mouth, she unhooked from the twig and fell into a pond at the edge of the village. The frog was waiting for the return of the ducks. But they flew away, thinking that the poor frog had crashed.

The moral of the tale is that you should never engage in boasting, but you should first try your hand. Modesty adorns not only a person, but also any living being.

Tale of the Traveling Frog read:

Once upon a time there lived a frog frog. She sat in the swamp, caught mosquitoes and midges, in the spring she croaked loudly with her friends. And she would have lived happily for the whole century - of course, if the stork had not eaten her. But one incident happened.

One day she was sitting on a twig of driftwood sticking out of the water and enjoying the warm fine rain.

“Oh, what a beautiful wet weather today! she thought. “What a pleasure it is to live in the world.”
The rain was drizzling down her mottled lacquered back; drops of it dripped under her belly and behind her paws, and it was deliciously pleasant, so pleasant that she almost croaked, but, fortunately, she remembered that it was already autumn and that frogs do not croak in autumn - there is spring for that. So she kept silent and continued to bask.

Suddenly a thin, hissing, intermittent sound resounded in the air. There is such a breed of ducks: when they fly, their wings, cutting through the air, seem to sing, or, better, whistle; phu-fuu-fuu-fuu - is heard in the air when a herd of such ducks flies high above you, and you can’t even see them themselves: they fly so high. This time the ducks, having described a huge semicircle, descended and sat down just in the very swamp where the frog lived.

- Quack quack! one of them said. - It's still a long way to go, you need to eat.

And the frog immediately hid. Although she knew that the ducks would not eat her, a big and fat frog, but still, just in case, she dived under a snag.

However, on reflection, she decided to stick her pop-eyed head out of the water: she was very interested to know where the ducks were flying.
- Quack quack! another duck said. - It's getting cold! Hurry south! Hurry south!

And all the ducks began to quack loudly in approval.

“Lady ducks,” the frog dared to say, “what is the south to which you are flying?” I apologize for the inconvenience.
And the ducks surrounded the frog. At first they had a desire to eat it, but each of them thought that the frog was too big and would not fit into the throat. Then they all began to shout, flapping their wings:

– Good in the south! Now it's warm! There are such glorious, warm swamps! What kind of worms are there! Good in the south!

They screamed so much that they almost stunned the frog. As soon as she persuaded them to shut up, she asked one of them, who seemed to her fatter and smarter than everyone else, to explain to her what the south is. And when she told her about the south, the frog was delighted, but in the end she still asked, because she was careful:

- Are there many midges and mosquitoes there?
- O! whole clouds! - replied the duck.

- Qua! - said the frog and immediately turned around to see if there were any friends here who could hear her and condemn her for croaking in the fall. She couldn't stop herself from croaking at least once. - Take me with you!

- It's amazing to me! the duck exclaimed. How can we take you? You don't have wings.
– When are you flying? the frog asked.
- Soon soon! all the ducks screamed. - Quack quack! Quack! Quack! It is cold here! South! South!

“Let me think for just five minutes,” said the frog, “I’ll be right back, I’ll probably come up with something good.”
And she plopped down from the branch, on which she climbed again, into the water, dived into the mud and completely buried herself in it so that foreign objects would not interfere with her thinking. Five minutes passed, the ducks were just about to fly, when suddenly out of the water, near the branch on which the frog was sitting, its muzzle appeared, and the expression of this muzzle was the most radiant that a frog is capable of.
- I've figured it out! I found! - she said. “Let two of you take a twig in your beaks, and I will cling to it in the middle. You will fly and I will drive. It is only necessary that you do not quack, and I do not croak, and everything will be fine.

Although being silent and dragging even a light frog of three thousand miles is not God knows what a pleasure, but her mind led the ducks to such delight that they unanimously agreed to carry her. They decided to take turns every two hours, and since there were, as the riddle says, so many ducks, and so many more, half as many, and a quarter as many, and there was only one frog, it was not necessary to carry it very often. They found a good, strong twig, two ducks took it in their beaks, the frog clung to the middle with its mouth, and the whole herd rose into the air.

The frog was breathless from the terrible height to which it was raised; in addition, the ducks flew unevenly and pulled the twig; the poor frog was dangling in the air like a paper clown, and with all her urine she clenched her jaws so as not to tear herself away and plop down on the ground. However, she soon got used to her position and even began to look around. Fields, meadows, rivers and mountains quickly swept under her, which, however, it was very difficult for her to see, because, hanging on a twig, she looked back and a little up, but she still saw something and rejoiced and was proud.

"That's how I came up with an excellent idea," she thought to herself.

And the ducks flew after the front pair carrying her, shouted and praised her.

“Our frog has an amazingly smart head,” they said. “Even among the ducks, there are few of them.

She could hardly restrain herself from thanking them, but remembering that if she opened her mouth she would fall from a terrible height, she clenched her jaw even tighter and decided to endure. She hung out in this way all day; the ducks carrying it changed on the fly, deftly picking up the twig; it was very frightening: more than once the frog almost croaked with fear, but it was necessary to have the presence of mind, and she had it.

In the evening, the whole company stopped in some kind of swamp; at dawn, the ducks with the frog set off again, but this time the traveler, in order to better see what was happening on the way, clung to her back and head forward, and her belly back. Ducks flew over harvested fields, over yellowed forests and over villages full of bread in stacks; from there came the sound of people talking and the sound of flails with which they threshed rye. People looked at the flock of ducks and, noticing something strange in it, pointed at it with their hands.

And the frog terribly wanted to fly closer to the earth, show himself and listen to what they say about him. On her next vacation she said:

“Can’t we fly not so high?” I'm dizzy from the height, and I'm afraid to fall if I suddenly feel sick.

And good ducks promised her to fly lower. The next day they flew so low that they heard voices.

“Look, look,” shouted children in one village, “ducks are carrying a frog!”

The frog heard this and her heart skipped a beat.

“Look, look,” adults in another village shouted, “this is a miracle!”

“Do they know I came up with this, not the ducks?” thought the frog.

“Look, look,” they shouted in the third village, “what a miracle! And who came up with such a cunning thing?

Then the frog could not stand it and, forgetting all caution, screamed with all his might:

- It's me! I! I!

And with that cry, she flew upside down to the ground. The ducks screamed loudly; one of them wanted to catch the poor companion on the fly, but missed. The frog, jerking all four legs, quickly fell to the ground; but since the ducks were flying very fast, she did not fall directly on the place over which she screamed and where there was a hard road, but much further, which was great happiness for her, because she flopped into a dirty pond at the edge of the village.

She soon emerged from the water and immediately again shouted in a rage at the top of her lungs:

- It's me! This is what I came up with!

But there was no one around her. Frightened by the unexpected splash, the local frogs all hid in the water. When they began to emerge from it, they looked with surprise at the new one.

And she told them a wonderful story about how she thought all her life and finally invented a new, unusual way of traveling on ducks; how she had her own ducks to carry her wherever she pleased; how she visited the beautiful south, where it is so good, where there are such beautiful, warm swamps and so many midges and all kinds of other edible insects.

“I stopped by to see how you are doing,” she said. - I will stay with you until spring, until my ducks, which I released, return.

But the ducks never returned. They thought that the wah had crashed on the ground, and they were very sorry for her.

Vsevolod Mikhailovich Garshin wrote wonderful fairy tale. Excellent and instructive. Wonderful, because the animals in this fairy tale speak beautifully, but instructive .. You will find out why when you read to the end. This tale is about a frog, smart and quick-witted, but a little boastful. The desire to stand out, to show off her in the end and let her down. What happened to this frog? Read the story and find out!

Read online fairy tale Traveler Frog

Once upon a time there lived a frog frog. She sat in the swamp, caught mosquitoes and midges, in the spring she croaked loudly with her friends. And she would have lived happily for the whole century - of course, if the stork had not eaten her. But one incident happened. One day she was sitting on a twig of driftwood sticking out of the water and enjoying the warm fine rain.

"Ah, what beautiful wet weather today!" she thought. "What a pleasure it is to live in the world!"

The rain drizzled down her mottled lacquered back; drops of it dripped under her belly and behind her paws, and it was deliciously pleasant, so pleasant that she almost croaked, but, fortunately, she remembered that it was already autumn and that frogs do not croak in autumn - there is spring for this , - and that, by croaking, she can drop her frog dignity. So she kept silent and continued to bask.

Suddenly a thin, hissing, intermittent sound resounded in the air. There is such a breed of ducks: when they fly, their wings, cutting through the air, seem to sing, or, better, whistle. Fu-fuo-fuu-fuu - is heard in the air when a herd of such ducks flies high above you, and you can’t even see them themselves, so they fly high. This time the ducks, having described a huge semicircle, descended and sat down just in the very swamp where the frog lived.

Quack quack! - said one of them, - It's still far to fly; gotta eat.

And the frog immediately hid. Although she knew that the ducks would not eat her, a big and fat frog, but still, just in case, she dived under a snag. However, on reflection, she decided to stick her pop-eyed head out of the water: she was very interested to know where the ducks were flying.

Quack quack! - said another duck, - it's already getting cold! Hurry south! Hurry south!

And all the ducks began to quack loudly in approval.

Miss ducks! - the frog dared to say, - what is the south to which you are flying? I apologize for the inconvenience.

And the ducks surrounded the frog. At first they had a desire to eat it, but each of them thought that the frog was too big and would not fit into the throat. Then they all began to shout, flapping their wings:

Good in the south! Now it's warm! There are such glorious warm swamps! What kind of worms are there! Good in the south!

They screamed so much that they almost stunned the frog. As soon as she persuaded them to shut up, she asked one of them, who seemed to her fatter and smarter than everyone else, to explain to her what the south is. And when she told her about the south, the frog was delighted, but in the end she still asked, because she was careful:

Are there a lot of midges and mosquitoes there?

O! whole clouds! - replied the duck.

Qua! - said the frog and immediately turned around to see if there were any friends here who could hear her and condemn her for croaking in the fall. She couldn't stop herself from croaking at least once.

Take me with you!

This is amazing to me! - exclaimed the duck. - How can we take you? You don't have wings.

When are you flying? asked the frog.

Soon soon! - shouted all the ducks. - Quack quack! quack! quack! It is cold here! South! South!

Let me think for five minutes only, - said the frog, - I'll be right back, I'll probably come up with something good.

And she plopped down from the branch, on which she climbed again, into the water, dived into the mud and completely buried herself in it so that foreign objects would not interfere with her thinking. Five minutes passed, the ducks were about to fly, when suddenly, from the water, near the branch on which she was sitting, her muzzle appeared, and the expression of this muzzle was the most radiant that a frog is capable of.

I came up with! I found! - she said. - Let two of you take a twig in your beaks, and I will cling to it in the middle. You will fly and I will drive. It is only necessary that you do not quack, and I do not croak, and everything will be fine.

Although to be silent and drag at least light frog three thousand miles, God knows what a pleasure, but her mind led the ducks into such delight that they unanimously agreed to carry her. They decided to take turns every two hours, and since there were, as the riddle says, so many ducks, and so many more, half as many, and a quarter as many, and there was only one frog, it was not necessary to carry it very often. They found a good, strong twig, two ducks took it in their beaks, the frog clung to the middle with its mouth, and the whole herd rose into the air. The frog was breathless at the terrible height to which it was raised; besides, the ducks flew unevenly and pulled the twig; the poor frog was dangling in the air like a paper clown, and with all her urine she clenched her jaws so as not to tear herself away and plop down on the ground. However, she soon got used to her position and even began to look around. Fields, meadows, rivers and mountains quickly swept under her, which, however, was very difficult for her to see, because, hanging on a twig, she looked back and a little up, but she still saw something and rejoiced and was proud.

"That's how I came up with an excellent idea," she thought to herself.

And the ducks flew after the front pair carrying her, shouted and praised her.

Our frog has an amazingly clever head, they said, even among ducks there are few of them.

She barely restrained herself from thanking them, but remembering that if she opened her mouth she would fall from a terrible height, she clenched her jaw even tighter and decided to endure. She dangled in this way all day long: the ducks carrying her changed on the fly, deftly picking up the twig; it was very frightening: more than once the frog almost croaked with fear, but it was necessary to have the presence of mind, and she had it. In the evening, the whole company stopped in some kind of swamp; at dawn, the ducks with the frog set off again, but this time the traveler, in order to better see what was happening on the way, clung to her back and head forward, and her belly back. Ducks flew over harvested fields, over yellowed forests and over villages full of bread in stacks; from there came the sound of people talking and the sound of flails with which they threshed rye. People looked at a flock of ducks and, noticing something strange in it, pointed at it with their hands. And the frog terribly wanted to fly closer to the earth, show himself and listen to what they say about him. On her next vacation she said:

Can't we fly not so high? I'm dizzy from the height, and I'm afraid to fall if I suddenly feel sick.

And good ducks promised her to fly lower. The next day they flew so low that they heard voices:

Look, look! - shouted children in one village, - ducks carry a frog!

The frog heard this and her heart skipped a beat.

Look, look! adults shouted in another village, “what a miracle!”

"Do they know I came up with this, not the ducks?" thought the frog.

Look, look! - shouted in the third village. - What a miracle! And who came up with such a cunning thing?

Then the frog could no longer stand it and, forgetting all caution, screamed with all his might:

It's me! I!

And with that cry, she flew upside down to the ground. The ducks screamed loudly; one of them wanted to catch the poor companion on the fly, but missed. The frog, jerking all four legs, quickly fell to the ground; but since the ducks were flying very fast, she did not fall directly on the place where she screamed and where there was a hard road, but much further, which was great happiness for her, because she flopped into a dirty pond at the edge of the village.

She soon emerged from the water and immediately again shouted in a rage at the top of her lungs:

It's me! This is what I came up with!

But there was no one around her. Frightened by the unexpected splash, the local frogs all hid in the water. When they began to emerge from it, they looked with surprise at the new one.

And she told them a wonderful story about how she thought all her life and finally invented a new, unusual way of traveling on ducks; how she had her own ducks to carry her wherever she pleased; how she visited the beautiful south, where it is so good, where there are such beautiful warm swamps and so many midges and all kinds of other edible insects.

I stopped by to see how you live, she said. - I will stay with you until spring, until my ducks, which I released, return.

But the ducks never returned. They thought that the wah had crashed on the ground, and they were very sorry for her.