“Tomorrow is the first of September,” my mother said. - And now autumn has come, and you will go to the second grade. Oh, how time flies!..
- And on this occasion, - dad picked up, - we will now "slaughter" a watermelon!
And he took a knife and cut the watermelon. When he cut, such a full, pleasant, green crackle was heard that my back turned cold with a premonition of how I would eat this watermelon. And I had already opened my mouth to cling to a pink watermelon slice, but then the door swung open, and Pavel entered the room. We were all terribly happy, because he had not been with us for a long time and we missed him.
I came from the yard after football tired and dirty like I don’t know who. I had fun because we beat house number five with a score of 44:37. Thank God there was no one in the bathroom. I quickly rinsed my hands, ran into the room and sat down at the table. I said:
I, mother, can now eat a bull.
A poster appeared near our house, so beautiful and bright that it was impossible to pass by it indifferently. Various birds were painted on it and it was written: "Songbird Show". And I immediately decided that I would definitely go and see what kind of news this was.
And on Sunday, at two in the afternoon, I got ready, got dressed and called Mishka to take him with me. But Mishka grumbled that he had a deuce in arithmetic - this is one and a new book about spies is two.
Then I decided to go myself. Mom let me go willingly, because I interfered with her cleaning, and I went. Songbirds were shown at the Exhibition of Achievement, and I got there easily by subway. There was almost no one at the box office, and I handed twenty kopecks out the window, but the cashier gave me a ticket and returned ten kopecks back for being a schoolboy. I really liked this.
Once I sat and sat, and for no reason at all suddenly thought up such a thing that I was even surprised myself. I thought how nice it would be if everything around the world was arranged the other way around. Well, for example, for children to be in charge in all matters and adults should have to obey them in everything, in everything. In general, adults should be like children, and children like adults. That would be great, it would be very interesting.
Firstly, I imagine how my mother would “like” such a story that I go and command her as I want, and dad would probably “like” it too, but there’s nothing to say about my grandmother. Needless to say, I would remember them all! For example, my mother would be sitting at dinner, and I would say to her:
“Why did you start a fashion without bread? Here's more news! Look at yourself in the mirror, who do you look like? Poured Koschey! Eat now, they tell you! - And she would eat with her head down, and I would only give the command: - Faster! Don't hold your cheek! Thinking again? Are you solving the world's problems? Chew properly! And don't rock in your chair!"
During the break, our October counselor Lucy ran up to me and said:
- Deniska, can you perform at the concert? We decided to organize two kids to be satirists. Want?
I speak:
- I want it all! Only you explain: what are satirists.
Although I am already in my ninth year, I only realized yesterday that I still need to learn lessons. You love, you don’t love, you don’t want to, whether you’re lazy or not, but you need to learn lessons. This is the law. And then you can get into such a story that you don’t recognize your own. For example, I didn't have time to do my homework yesterday. We were asked to learn a piece from one of Nekrasov's poems and the main rivers of America. And I, instead of studying, launched a kite into space in the yard. Well, he still didn’t fly into space, because he had an overly light tail, and because of this he was spinning like a top. This time.
I will never forget this winter evening. It was cold outside, the wind was strong, it cut my cheeks like a dagger, the snow was spinning with terrible speed. It was dreary and boring, I just wanted to howl, and then dad and mom went to the movies. And when Mishka rang the phone and called me to his place, I immediately got dressed and rushed to him. It was light and warm there and a lot of people gathered, Alenka came, followed by Kostya and Andryushka. We played all the games and it was fun and noisy. And in the end, Alenka suddenly said:
Once we went to the circus as a whole class. I was very happy when I went there, because I am almost eight years old, and I was in the circus only once, and that was a very long time ago. The main thing is that Alenka is only six years old, but she has already managed to visit the circus three times. It's very embarrassing. And now the whole class of us went to the circus, and I thought how good it was that it was already big and that now, this time, I would see everything as it should. And at that time I was little, I did not understand what a circus was. That time, when acrobats entered the arena and one climbed on the head of another, I laughed terribly, because I thought that they were doing it on purpose, for fun, because at home I had never seen adult uncles climbing on top of each other. It didn't happen on the street either.
Either I wanted to be an astronomer, so as not to sleep at night and observe distant stars through a telescope, or I dreamed of becoming a sea captain in order to stand with my legs apart on the captain's bridge and visit distant Singapore and buy a funny monkey there.
Works are divided into pagesDeniska stories by Viktor Dragunsky
Viktor Dragunsky has wonderful stories about the boy Deniska, which are called " Deniskin's stories". Many children read these funny stories. We can say that a huge number of people grew up on these stories, " Deniskin's stories”are unusually exactly similar to our society, both in its aesthetic aspects and in its factology. The phenomenon of universal love for the stories of Viktor Dragunsky explained quite simply. Reading short but rather meaningful stories about Deniska, children learn to compare and contrast, fantasize and dream, analyze their actions with funny laughter and enthusiasm.
Dragunsky's stories distinguishes love for children, knowledge of their behavior, spiritual responsiveness. The prototype of Deniska is the author's son, and the father in these stories is the author himself. V. Dragunsky wrote not only funny stories, many of which, most likely, happened to his son, but also a little instructive. Kind and good impressions remain after thoughtfully read Deniska's stories, many of which were later filmed. Children and adults with great pleasure re-read them many times. In our collection you can read online a list of Deniskin's stories, and enjoy their world in any free minute.
Viktor Yuzefovich Dragunsky
Deniskin's stories
© Dragunsky V. Yu., heirs, 2014
© Dragunskaya K. V., foreword, 2014
© Chizhikov V. A., afterword, 2014
© Losin V. N., illustrations, heritage, 2014
© LLC AST Publishing House, 2015
About my dad
When I was little, I had a dad. Viktor Dragunsky. Famous children's writer. Only no one believed me that he was my dad. And I screamed: “This is my dad, dad, dad!!!” And she started to fight. Everyone thought he was my grandfather. Because he was no longer very young. I am a late child. Junior. I have two older brothers - Lenya and Denis. They are smart, scholarly, and quite bald. But they know a lot more stories about dad than I do. But since it wasn’t them who became children’s writers, but I, then they usually ask me to write something about dad.
My dad was born a long time ago. In 2013, on the first of December, he would have turned one hundred years old. And not somewhere there he was born, but in New York. This is how it happened - his mom and dad were very young, got married and left the Belarusian city of Gomel for America, for happiness and wealth. I don’t know about happiness, but they didn’t work out with wealth at all. They ate exclusively bananas, and in the house where they lived, hefty rats ran. And they returned back to Gomel, and after a while they moved to Moscow, to Pokrovka. There my dad did not study well at school, but he liked to read books. Then he worked at a factory, studied to be an actor and worked in the Theater of Satire, and also as a clown in a circus and wore a red wig. Maybe that's why I have red hair. And as a child, I also wanted to be a clown.
Dear readers!!! People often ask me how my dad is doing, and they ask me to ask him to write something else - bigger and funnier. I don’t want to upset you, but my dad died a long time ago when I was only six years old, that is, more than thirty years ago, it turns out. Therefore, I remember very few cases about him.
One such case. My dad was very fond of dogs. He always dreamed of getting a dog, only his mother did not allow him, but finally, when I was five and a half years old, a spaniel puppy named Toto appeared in our house. So wonderful. Eared, spotted and with thick paws. He had to be fed six times a day, like a baby, which made mom a little angry ... And then one day dad and I come from somewhere or just sit at home alone, and we want to eat something. We go to the kitchen and find a saucepan with semolina, and so tasty (I generally can’t stand semolina) that we immediately eat it. And then it turns out that this is Totoshina porridge, which my mother specially cooked in advance to mix it with some vitamins, as it should be for puppies. Mom was offended, of course. Outrageous is a children's writer, an adult, and ate puppy porridge.
They say that in his youth my dad was terribly cheerful, he was always inventing something, around him there were always the coolest and witty people in Moscow, and at home we always had noisy, fun, laughter, a holiday, a feast and solid celebrities. Unfortunately, I don’t remember this anymore - when I was born and grew up a little, dad was very ill with hypertension, high blood pressure, and it was impossible to make noise in the house. My friends, who are now quite adult aunts, still remember that I had to walk on tiptoe so as not to disturb my dad. Somehow they didn’t even let me in to see him very much, so that I wouldn’t disturb him. But I still penetrated to him, and we played - I was a frog, and dad was a respected and kind lion.
My dad and I also went to eat bagels on Chekhov Street, there was such a bakery with bagels and a milkshake. We were also in the circus on Tsvetnoy Boulevard, we were sitting very close, and when the clown Yuri Nikulin saw my dad (and they worked together in the circus before the war), he was very happy, took a microphone from the ringmaster and sang “The Song about Hares” especially for us .
My dad also collected bells, we have a whole collection at home, and now I continue to replenish it.
If you read "Deniska's Stories" attentively, you will understand how sad they are. Not all, of course, but some - just very much. I won't name now which ones. You yourself read and feel. And then - let's check. Some people are surprised, they say, how did an adult manage to penetrate the soul of a child, speak on his behalf, just as if the child himself had told it? .. And it’s very simple - dad remained a little boy all his life. Exactly! A person does not have time to grow up at all - life is too short. A person only manages to learn how to eat without getting dirty, walk without falling, do something there, smoke, lie, shoot from a machine gun, or vice versa - treat, teach ... All people are children. Well, at least almost everything. Only they don't know about it.
I don't remember much about my dad. But I can compose all sorts of stories - funny, strange and sad. I have this from him.
And my son Tema is very similar to my dad. Well, spilled! In the house in Karetny Ryad, where we live in Moscow, there are elderly pop artists who remember my dad when he was young. And they call Theme just that - "Dragoon offspring." And we, along with Tema, love dogs. We have a lot of dogs at the dacha, and those that are not ours just come to us for lunch. Once a striped dog came, we treated her to a cake, and she liked it so much that she ate and barked with joy with her mouth full.
Xenia Dragunskaya
"He's alive and glowing..."
One evening I was sitting in the yard, near the sand, and waiting for my mother. She probably lingered at the institute, or at the store, or, perhaps, stood at the bus stop for a long time. Don't know. Only all the parents of our yard had already come, and all the guys went home with them and probably already drank tea with bagels and cheese, but my mother was still not there ...
And now the lights in the windows began to light up, and the radio began to play music, and dark clouds moved in the sky - they looked like bearded old men ...
And I wanted to eat, but my mother was still not there, and I thought that if I knew that my mother was hungry and was waiting for me somewhere at the end of the world, I would immediately run to her, and would not be late and would not made her sit on the sand and get bored.
And at that moment Mishka came out into the yard. He said:
- Great!
And I said
- Great!
Mishka sat down with me and picked up a dump truck.
- Wow! Mishka said. - Where did you get it? Does he pick up the sand himself? Not by myself? Does he dump himself? Yes? And the pen? What is she for? Can it be rotated? Yes? A? Wow! Will you give it to me home?
I said:
- No I will not give. Present. Dad gave before leaving.
The bear pouted and moved away from me. It got even darker outside.
I looked at the gate so as not to miss when my mother comes. But she didn't go. Apparently, I met Aunt Rosa, and they stand and talk and do not even think about me. I lay down on the sand.
Mishka says:
- Can you give me a dump truck?
- Get off, Mishka.
Current page: 1 (total book has 6 pages) [accessible reading passage: 2 pages]
Victor Dragunsky
Deniskin's stories
Paul's Englishman
“Tomorrow is the first of September,” my mother said, “and now autumn has come, and you will go to the second grade already. Oh, how time flies!
- And on this occasion, - dad picked up, - we will now "slaughter a watermelon"!
And he took a knife and cut the watermelon. When he cut, such a full, pleasant, green crackle was heard that my back turned cold with a premonition of how I would eat this watermelon. And I had already opened my mouth to clutch at a pink watermelon slice, but then the door opened and Pavel entered the room. We were all terribly happy, because he had not been with us for a long time, and we missed him.
- Whoa, who's here! Dad said. - Pavel himself. Pavel the Warthog himself!
“Sit down with us, Pavlik, there is a watermelon,” my mother said. - Deniska, move over.
I said:
- Hello! - and gave him a place next to him.
He said:
- Hello! - and sat down.
And we began to eat, and ate for a long time, and were silent. We didn't feel like talking. And what is there to talk about when there is such deliciousness in the mouth!
And when Paul was given the third piece, he said:
Oh, I love watermelon. Even more. My grandmother never lets me eat it.
- And why? Mom asked.
- She says that after a watermelon I get not a dream, but a continuous running around.
“Really,” Dad said. - That's why we eat watermelon early in the morning. By evening, its action ends and you can sleep peacefully. Come on, don't be afraid.
“I am not afraid,” said Pavel.
And we all got down to business again, and again we were silent for a long time. And when mom began to remove the crusts, dad said:
“And why, Pavel, haven’t been with us for so long?”
“Yes,” I said. - Where have you been? What did you do?
And then Pavel puffed up, blushed, looked around, and suddenly casually let slip, as if reluctantly:
- What did he do, what did he do ... He studied English, that's what he did.
I was right in a hurry. I immediately realized that all summer was in vain. He fiddled with hedgehogs, played bast shoes, dealt with trifles. But Pavel, he did not waste time, no, you're naughty, he worked on himself, he raised his level of education. He studied English and now I suppose he will be able to correspond with English pioneers and read English books! I immediately felt that I was dying of envy, and then my mother added:
- Here, Deniska, study. This is not your lappet!
- Well done, - said dad, - respect!
Pavel directly beamed:
- A student, Seva, came to visit us. So he works with me every day. It's been two whole months now. Totally tortured.
What about difficult English? I asked.
"Go crazy," Pavel sighed.
“It wouldn’t be difficult,” Dad intervened. - The devil himself will break his leg there. Very difficult spelling. It is spelled Liverpool and pronounced Manchester.
- Well, yes! - I said. - Right, Pavel?
- It’s just a disaster, - said Pavel, - I was completely exhausted from these activities, I lost two hundred grams.
- So why don't you use your knowledge, Pavlik? Mom said. “Why didn’t you say hello to us in English when you came in?”
“I haven’t gone through hello yet,” said Pavel.
- Well, you ate a watermelon, why didn’t you say “thank you”?
“I said,” Pavel said.
- Well, yes, you said in Russian, but in English?
“We haven’t reached the “thank you” yet,” Pavel said. – Very difficult preaching.
Then I said:
- Pavel, and you teach me how to say “one, two, three” in English.
“I haven’t studied it yet,” Pavel said.
– What did you study? I shouted. Have you learned anything in two months?
“I learned how to speak English Petya,” said Pavel.
- Well, how?
“True,” I said. – Well, what else do you know in English?
“That’s all for now,” Pavel said.
watermelon lane
I came from the yard after football tired and dirty, like I don’t know who. I had fun because we beat house number five with a score of 44:37. Thank God there was no one in the bathroom. I quickly rinsed my hands, ran into the room and sat down at the table. I said:
- I, mother, can now eat a bull.
She smiled.
- A live bull? - she said.
“Aha,” I said, “alive, with hooves and nostrils!”
Mom immediately left and returned a second later with a plate in her hands. The plate smoked so nicely, and I immediately guessed that there was pickle in it. Mom put the plate in front of me.
- Eat! Mom said.
But it was noodles. Dairy. All in foam. It is almost the same as semolina. There are always lumps in porridge, and foam in noodles. I just die as soon as I see foam, not to eat. I said:
– I will not noodles!
Mom said:
- No talking!
- There are foams!
Mom said:
- You will drive me into a coffin! What foams? Who do you look like? You are the spitting image of Koschey!
I said:
“Better kill me!”
But my mother blushed all over and slammed her hand on the table:
- You're killing me!
And then dad came in. He looked at us and asked:
- What is the dispute about? Why such a heated debate?
Mom said:
- Enjoy! Doesn't want to eat. The guy will soon be eleven years old, and he, like a girl, is naughty.
I'm almost nine. But my mother always says that I'll be eleven soon. When I was eight years old, she said that I would soon be ten.
Papa said:
- Why doesn't he want to? What, the soup is burnt or too salty?
I said:
- This is noodles, and there are foams in it ...
Papa shook his head.
- Ah, that's it! His Excellency Von-Baron Kutkin-Putkin does not want to eat milk noodles! He should probably serve marzipans on a silver tray!
I laughed because I love it when dad jokes.
- What is marzipan?
“I don’t know,” Dad said, “probably something sweet and smells like cologne.” Especially for the von-baron Kutkin-Putkin!.. Well, let's eat noodles!
- Yes, foams!
- You're stuck, brother, that's what! Dad said and turned to mom. “Take his noodles,” he said, “otherwise I just hate it!” He doesn't want porridge, he can't have noodles!.. What whims! Hate!..
He sat down on a chair and looked at me. His face was as if I was a stranger to him. He did not say anything, but only looked like this - in a strange way. And I immediately stopped smiling - I realized that the jokes were already over. And dad was so silent for a long time, and we were all so silent, and then he said, and as if not to me, and not to my mother, but to someone who is his friend:
“No, I’ll probably never forget that terrible autumn,” dad said, “how sad, uncomfortable it was then in Moscow ... War, the Nazis are rushing to the city. It's cold, hungry, adults all walk around frowning, they listen to the radio every hour ... Well, everything is clear, isn't it? I was then about eleven or twelve years old, and, most importantly, then I grew very quickly, stretched upward, and I was terribly hungry all the time. I didn't have enough food. I always asked my parents for bread, but they didn’t have enough, and they gave me theirs, but I didn’t have enough of that either. And I went to bed hungry, and in my dream I saw bread. Yes that … Everyone was like that. The history is known. Written, rewritten, read, reread...
And then one day I was walking along a small alley, not far from our house, and suddenly I saw a hefty truck, littered to the top with watermelons. I don't even know how they got to Moscow. Some stray watermelons. They must have been brought in to give out cards. And upstairs in the car there is an uncle, so thin, unshaven and toothless, or something - his mouth is very retracted. And so he takes a watermelon and throws it to his friend, and he - to the saleswoman in white, and she - to someone else fourth ... And they do it so cleverly in a chain: the watermelon rolls along the conveyor from the car to the store. And if you look from the outside, people are playing with green-striped balls, and this is a very interesting game. I stood like that for a long time and looked at them, and the uncle, who is very thin, also looked at me and kept smiling at me with his toothless mouth, a nice man. But then I got tired of standing and was about to go home, when suddenly someone in their chain made a mistake, looked, or something, or simply missed, and please - trrah! .. The heavy watermelon suddenly fell onto the pavement. Right next to me. It cracked somehow crookedly, sideways, and a snow-white thin crust was visible, and behind it such a purple, red flesh with sugar streaks and obliquely set bones, as if the sly eyes of a watermelon looked at me and smiled from the middle. And here, when I saw this wonderful pulp and splashes of watermelon juice, and when I smelled this smell, so fresh and strong, only then I realized how much I want to eat. But I turned around and went home. And I did not have time to move away, suddenly I hear - they are calling:
"Boy, boy!"
I looked around, and this worker of mine, who is toothless, is running towards me, and he has a broken watermelon in his hands. He says:
“Come on, honey, watermelon, drag it, eat at home!”
And I did not have time to look back, and he had already thrust me a watermelon and was running to his place, further unloading. And I hugged the watermelon and barely dragged it home, and called my friend Valka, and we both ate this huge watermelon. Ah, what a treat it was! Can't be transferred! Valka and I cut off huge pieces, the entire width of the watermelon, and when we bit, the edges of the watermelon slices touched our ears, and our ears were wet, and pink watermelon juice dripped from them. And the bellies of Valka and I swelled up and also looked like watermelons. If you click on such a belly with your finger, you know what kind of ringing will go! Like a drum. And we regretted only one thing, that we had no bread, otherwise we would have eaten even better. Yes…
Dad turned away and looked out the window.
- And then it got even worse - autumn turned around, - he said, - it became completely cold, winter, dry and fine snow fell from the sky, and it was immediately blown away by a dry and sharp wind. And we had very little food, and the Nazis went on and on towards Moscow, and I was hungry all the time. And now I dreamed not only of bread. I also dreamed of watermelons. And one morning I saw that I didn’t have a stomach at all, it just seemed to be stuck to the spine, and I couldn’t think about anything except food. And I called Valka and told him:
“Let’s go, Valka, let’s go to that watermelon lane, maybe they are unloading watermelons there again, and maybe one will fall again, and maybe they will give it to us again.”
And we wrapped ourselves in some kind of grandmother's scarves, because the cold was terrible, and went to the watermelon lane. It was a gray day outside, there were few people, and it was quiet in Moscow, not like now. There was no one at all in the watermelon alley, and we stood in front of the store doors and waited for the watermelon truck to arrive. And it was already getting dark, but he still did not come. I said:
“Probably coming tomorrow…”
“Yes,” said Valka, “probably tomorrow.”
And we went home with him. And the next day we went to the alley again, and again in vain. And every day we walked like this and waited, but the truck did not come ...
Papa was silent. He looked out the window, and his eyes were as if he was seeing something that neither I nor my mother could see. Mom came up to him, but dad immediately got up and left the room. Mom followed him. And I was left alone. I sat and also looked out the window, where papa was looking, and it seemed to me that I was seeing papa and his comrade right now, how they trembled and waited. The wind beats on them, and the snow too, but they tremble and wait, and wait, and wait ... And this just made me terribly, and I directly grabbed my plate and quickly, spoon by spoon, sipped it all, and then tilted to himself, and drank the rest, and wiped the bottom with bread, and licked the spoon.
Would…
Once I sat and sat, and for no reason at all suddenly thought up such a thing that I was even surprised myself. I thought that this is how good it would be if everything around the world was arranged the other way around. Well, for example, so that children are in charge in all matters, and adults should have to obey them in everything, in everything. In general, adults should be like children, and children like adults. That would be great, it would be very interesting.
Firstly, I imagine how my mother would “like” such a story that I go around and command her as I want, and dad would probably “like” it too, but there’s nothing to say about my grandmother. Needless to say, I would remember them all! For example, my mother would be sitting at dinner, and I would say to her:
“Why did you start a fashion without bread? Here's more news! Look at yourself in the mirror, who do you look like? Poured Koschey! Eat now, they tell you! - And she would eat with her head down, and I would only give the command: - Faster! Don't hold your cheek! Thinking again? Are you solving the world's problems? Chew properly! And don't rock in your chair!"
And then dad would come in after work, and he wouldn’t even have time to undress, and I would have already screamed:
"Yeah, he showed up! You always have to wait! My hands now! As it should, as it should be mine, there is nothing to smear the dirt. After you, the towel is scary to look at. Brush three and do not spare soap. Come on, show me your nails! It's horror, not nails. It's just claws! Where are the scissors? Don't move! I do not cut with any meat, but I cut it very carefully. Don't sniffle, you're not a girl... That's it. Now sit down at the table."
He would sit down and quietly say to his mother:
"Well, how are you?!"
And she would also say quietly:
"Nothing, thanks!"
And I would immediately:
“Table talkers! When I eat, I am deaf and dumb! Remember this for the rest of your life. Golden Rule! Dad! Put down the newspaper now, you are my punishment!”
And they would sit with me like silk, and when my grandmother came, I would squint, clasp my hands and wail:
"Dad! Mother! Admire our grandmother! What a view! The chest is open, the hat is on the back of the head! Cheeks are red, the whole neck is wet! Okay, nothing to say. Admit it, did you play hockey again? What is that dirty stick? Why did you bring her into the house? What? Is this a stick? Get her out of my sight right now—to the back door!”
Then I would walk around the room and say to all three of them:
“After dinner, everyone sit down for lessons, and I’ll go to the cinema!” Of course, they would immediately whine and whimper:
“And we are with you! And we also want to go to the cinema!”
And I would them:
“Nothing, nothing! Yesterday we went to a birthday party, on Sunday I took you to the circus! Look! I enjoyed having fun every day. Sit at home! Here you have thirty kopecks for ice cream, and that’s it!”
Then the grandmother would pray:
“Take me at least! After all, each child can bring one adult with them for free!”
But I would shirk, I would say:
“And people over seventy years old are not allowed to enter this picture. Stay at home, you bastard!"
And I would walk past them, deliberately tapping my heels loudly, as if I didn’t notice that their eyes were all wet, and I would start getting dressed, and I would turn around in front of the mirror for a long time, and sing, and they would be even worse from this. were tormented, and I would open the door to the stairs and say ...
But I did not have time to think of what I would say, because at that time my mother came in, the real one, alive, and said:
Are you still sitting? Eat now, look who you look like? Poured Koschey!
“Where is it seen, where is it heard…”
During the break, our October counselor Lucy ran up to me and said:
- Deniska, can you perform at the concert? We decided to organize two kids to be satirists. Want?
I speak:
- I want it all! Only you explain: what are satirists?
Lucy says:
- You see, we have various problems ... Well, for example, losers or lazy people, they need to be caught. Understood? It is necessary to speak about them so that everyone laughs, this will have a sobering effect on them.
I speak:
They are not drunk, they are just lazy.
“That’s what they say: “sobering,” Lucy laughed. – But in fact, these guys will just think about it, they will become embarrassed, and they will improve. Understood? Well, in general, do not pull: if you want - agree, if you don't want - refuse!
I said:
- All right, come on!
Then Lucy asked:
- Do you have a partner?
Lucy was surprised.
How do you live without a friend?
- I have a comrade, Mishka. And there is no partner.
Lucy smiled again.
- It's almost the same thing. Is he musical, is your Bear?
- No, ordinary.
- Can you sing?
"Very quiet... But I'll teach him to sing louder, don't worry."
Here Lucy was delighted:
- After the lessons, drag him to the small hall, there will be a rehearsal!
And I set off with all my might to look for Mishka. He stood in the buffet and ate sausage.
- Mishka, do you want to be a satirist?
And he said:
- Wait, let me eat.
I stood and watched him eat. He is small himself, and the sausage is thicker than his neck. He held this sausage with his hands and ate it straight whole, without cutting it, and the skin cracked and burst when he bit it, and hot odorous juice splashed from there.
And I could not stand it and said to Aunt Katya:
- Give me, please, also a sausage, as soon as possible!
And Aunt Katya immediately handed me a bowl. And I was in a hurry so that Mishka would not have time to eat his sausage without me: I alone would not be so tasty. And so I also took my sausage with my hands and, without cleaning it, began to gnaw it, and hot odorous juice splashed out of it. And Mishka and I gnawed like that for a couple, and burned ourselves, and looked at each other, and smiled.
And then I told him that we would be satirists, and he agreed, and we barely made it to the end of the lessons, and then ran to the small hall for a rehearsal. Our counselor Lucy was already sitting there, and with her was one boy, about the fourth, very ugly, with small ears and big eyes.
Lucy said:
– Here they are! Meet our school poet Andrey Shestakov.
We said:
– Great!
And they turned away so that he would not ask.
And the poet said to Lucy:
- What is it, performers, or what?
He said:
“Was there really nothing better?”
Lucy said:
- Just what you need!
But then our singing teacher Boris Sergeevich came. He went straight to the piano.
- Come on, let's start! Where are the verses?
Andryushka took a piece of paper out of his pocket and said:
- Here. I took the meter and chorus from Marshak, from a fairy tale about a donkey, grandfather and grandson: “Where has this been seen, where has it been heard ...”
Boris Sergeevich nodded.
Dad studies for Vasya all year.
Dad decides, and Vasya gives up?!
Mishka and I just jumped. Of course, the guys quite often ask their parents to solve the problem for them, and then show the teacher as if they were such heroes. And at the board, no boom-boom - deuce! The case is well known. Oh yes Andryushka, he caught it great!
Chalk lined asphalt into squares,
Manechka and Tanechka are jumping here,
Where is it seen, where is it heard -
They play "classes" but don't go to class?!
It's great again. We really enjoyed! This Andryushka is just a real fellow, like Pushkin!
Boris Sergeevich said:
- Nothing, not bad! And the music will be the simplest, something like that. - And he took Andryushka's verses and, quietly strumming, sang them all in a row.
It turned out very cleverly, we even clapped our hands.
And Boris Sergeevich said:
- Well, sir, who are our performers?
And Lucy pointed at Mishka and me:
- Well, - said Boris Sergeevich, - Misha has a good ear ... True, Deniska does not sing very correctly.
I said:
- But it's loud.
And we began to repeat these verses to the music and repeated them probably fifty or a thousand times, and I yelled very loudly, and everyone calmed me down and made comments:
- Do not worry! You are quiet! Calm down! Don't be so loud!
Andryushka was especially excited. He completely blew me away. But I only sang loudly, I didn't want to sing softer, because real singing is exactly when it's loud!
... And then one day, when I came to school, I saw an announcement in the locker room:
ATTENTION!
Today at a big break
there will be a performance in the small hall
flying patrol
« Pioneer Satyricon»!
Performed by a duet of kids!
One day!
Come all!
And something immediately clicked in me. I ran to class. Mishka sat there and looked out the window.
I said:
- Well, today we perform!
And Mishka suddenly mumbled:
- I don't feel like speaking...
I was right dumbfounded. How - reluctance? That's it! We've been rehearsing, haven't we? But what about Lucy and Boris Sergeevich? Andryushka? And all the guys, because they read the poster and will come running as one? I said:
- Are you out of your mind, or what? Let people down?
And Mishka is so plaintively:
- I think my stomach hurts.
I speak:
- It's out of fear. It hurts me too, but I don't refuse!
But Mishka was still kind of thoughtful. At the big break, all the guys rushed to the small hall, and Mishka and I could hardly trudge behind, because I also completely lost the mood to speak. But at that moment Lyusya ran out to meet us, she firmly grabbed our hands and dragged us along, but my legs were soft, like a doll’s, and weaved. I must have been infected by Mishka.
In the hall there was a fenced-off place near the piano, and children from all classes, both nannies and teachers, crowded around.
Mishka and I stood near the piano.
Boris Sergeevich was already in place, and Lucy announced in an announcer's voice:
- We begin the performance of the "Pioneer Satyricon" on topical topics. Text by Andrey Shestakov, performed by world-famous satirists Misha and Denis! Let's ask!
And Mishka and I went a little ahead. The bear was white as a wall. And I was nothing, only my mouth was dry and rough, as if there was emery.
Boris Sergeevich played. Mishka had to start, because he sang the first two lines, and I had to sing the second two lines. So Boris Sergeevich began to play, and Mishka threw his left hand to the side, as Lucy had taught him, and he wanted to sing, but he was late, and while he was getting ready, it was my turn, it turned out like that in music. But I did not sing, since Mishka was late. Why on earth!
Mishka then put his hand back in place. And Boris Sergeevich loudly and separately began again.
He struck, as he should have done, the keys three times, and on the fourth Mishka threw back his left hand again and finally sang:
Vasya's dad is strong in mathematics,
Dad studies for Vasya all year.
I immediately picked it up and shouted:
Where is it seen, where is it heard -
Dad decides, and Vasya gives up?!
Everyone in the hall laughed, and this made my soul feel better. And Boris Sergeevich went further. He again struck the keys three times, and on the fourth Mishka carefully threw his left hand to the side and, for no reason at all, sang at first:
Vasya's dad is strong in mathematics,
Dad studies for Vasya all year.
I knew right away that he had lost his way! But since this is the case, I decided to sing to the end, and then we'll see. I took it and finished it:
Where is it seen, where is it heard -
Dad decides, and Vasya gives up?!
Thank God, it was quiet in the hall - everyone, apparently, also understood that Mishka had gone astray, and thought: “Well, it happens, let him sing further.”
And when the music reached the place, he again extended his left hand and, like a record that was “jammed”, wound it up for the third time:
Vasya's dad is strong in mathematics,
Dad studies for Vasya all year.
I had a terrible desire to hit him on the back of the head with something heavy, and I yelled with terrible anger:
Where is it seen, where is it heard -
Dad decides, and Vasya gives up?!
“Mishka, you seem to be completely crazy!” Are you tightening the same thing for the third time? Let's talk about girls!
And Mishka is so cheeky:
I know without you! - And politely says to Boris Sergeyevich: - Please, Boris Sergeyevich, go on!
Boris Sergeevich began to play, and Mishka suddenly grew bolder, again put out his left hand and on the fourth beat began to cry as if nothing had happened:
Vasya's dad is strong in mathematics,
Dad studies for Vasya all year.
Then everyone in the hall squealed with laughter, and I saw in the crowd what an unhappy face Andryushka had, and I also saw that Lucy, all red and disheveled, was making her way towards us through the crowd. And Mishka stands with his mouth open, as if he is surprised at himself. Well, while the court and the case, I shout out:
Where is it seen, where is it heard -
Dad decides, and Vasya gives up?!
This is where something terrible started. Everyone was laughing as if stabbed to death, and the Mishka turned purple from green. Our Lucy grabbed his hand and dragged him to her. She screamed:
- Deniska, sing alone! Don't let me down!.. Music! AND!..
And I stood at the piano and decided not to let you down. I felt that it didn’t matter to me, and when the music reached me, for some reason I suddenly threw my left hand out to the side and screamed out of the blue:
Vasya's dad is strong in mathematics,
Dad studies for Vasya all year ...
I'm even surprised that I didn't die from this damn song. I probably would have died if the bell hadn't rung at that time...
I won't be a satirist anymore!
Deniskin's stories of Dragunsky.
Viktor Yuzefovich Dragunsky was born on December 1, 1913 in New York, into a Jewish family of emigrants from Russia. Soon after that, the parents returned to their homeland and settled in Gomel. During the war, Victor's father died of typhus. His stepfather was I. Voitsekhovich, a red commissar who died in 1920. In 1922, another stepfather appeared - Jewish theater actor Mikhail Rubin, with whom the family traveled all over the country. In 1925 they moved to Moscow. But one day Mikhail Rubin went on tour and did not return home. What happened remains unknown.
Victor started working early. In 1930, already working, he began to attend the "Literary and Theater Workshops" of A. Diky. In 1935, he began performing as an actor at the Transport Theater (now the N.V. Gogol Theatre). At the same time, Dragunsky was engaged in literary work: he wrote feuilletons and humoresques, came up with interludes, skits, pop monologues, circus clowns. He became close with circus performers and even worked in a circus for a while. Gradually came the role. He played several roles in films (the film "The Russian Question", directed by Mikhail Romm) and was accepted into the Film Actor's Theatre. But in the theater with its huge troupe, which included eminent movie stars, young and not very famous actors did not have to rely on constant employment in performances. Then Dragunsky had the idea of creating a small amateur troupe inside the theater. True, such a troupe could be called amateur performances conditionally - the participants were professional artists. Many actors responded with pleasure to the idea of creating a parody "theater within the theater". Dragunsky became the organizer and leader of the Blue Bird ensemble of literary and theatrical parody, which existed from 1948-1958. Actors from other Moscow theaters also began to come there. Gradually, the small troupe gained importance and repeatedly performed at the Actor's House (then: the All-Russian Theater Society), where Alexander Moiseevich Eskin was director at that time. Parody funny performances were such a resounding success that Dragunsky was invited to create a similar group with the same name in Mosestrade. For productions at the Blue Bird, together with Lyudmila Davidovich, he composed the text for several songs, which later became popular and acquired a second life on the stage: Three Waltzes, Miracle Song, Motor Ship, Star of My Fields, Birch".
During the Great Patriotic War, Dragunsky was in the militia.
Since 1940, he has been publishing feuilletons and humorous stories, later collected in the collection Iron Character (1960); writes songs, interludes, clownery, scenes for stage and circus.
Since 1959, Dragunsky has been writing funny stories about a fictional boy Denis Korablev and his friend Mishka Slonov under the general title "Deniskin's Stories", based on which the films "Funny Stories" (1962), "The Girl on the Ball" (1966) are released. , "Deniska's stories" (1970), "In secret around the world" (1976), "The amazing adventures of Denis Korablev" (1979), short films "Where has it been seen, where has it been heard", "Captain", "Fire in the wing" and "Spyglass" (1973). These stories brought their author great popularity, it was with them that his name began to be associated. The name Deniska was not chosen by chance - that was the name of his son.
In addition, Dragunsky was the screenwriter of the film "The Magic Power of Art (1970)", in which Deniska Korablev was also displayed as a hero.
However, Viktor Dragunsky wrote prose works for adults too. In 1961, the story "He Fell on the Grass" was published about the very first days of the war. Its hero, a young artist, like the author of the book himself, despite the fact that he was not drafted into the army due to disability, joined the militia. The story "Today and Daily" (1964) is dedicated to the life of circus workers, the main character of which is a clown; this is a book about a man who exists in spite of time, living in his own way.
But the children's "Deniska's stories" are most famous and popular.
In the 1960s, books from this series were published in large numbers:
"Girl on the Ball",
"Enchanted Letter"
"Childhood Friend"
"Dog Thief"
"Twenty years under the bed"
"The Magical Power of Art", etc.
In the 1970s:
"Red balloon in the blue sky"
"Colorful Stories"
"Adventure" etc.
The writer died in Moscow on May 6, 1972.
The widow of V. Dragunsky Alla Dragunskaya (Semichastnaya) published a book of memoirs: “About Viktor Dragunsky. Life, creativity, memories of friends”, LLP “Chemistry and Life”, Moscow, 1999.
Dragoon Amazing Day: Deniska's stories for children. Read the story Amazing day of V. Dragunsky, and other funny Deniska stories and funny stories for children and schools
Amazing Day (summary of the story)
A story about how the guys assemble a rocket to fly into space. Thinking through all the details of her device, they got a very impressive design. And although the friends understood that this was a game, they still almost quarreled over deciding who would be the astronaut. It's good that their game ended well! Here, parents have the opportunity to discuss safety measures. The fact is that the boys put New Year's firecrackers into the pipe from the samovar to simulate the take-off of a rocket. And inside the barrel-rocket was cosmonaut Denis. Fortunately for him, the fuse did not work and the explosion occurred after the boy left the "rocket".
Amazing day (full story)
A few days ago we started building a platform for launching a spaceship, and we still haven’t finished it, but at first I thought that one, two, three, and everything would be ready for us right away. But things somehow didn't work out, and all because we didn't know what it should be, this site.
We didn't have a plan.
Then I went home. He took a piece of paper and drew on it what went where: where is the entrance, where is the exit, where to dress, where the astronaut is seen off and where to press the button. It all worked out great for me, especially the button. And when I drew the site, I also added a rocket to it. And the first step, and the second, and the astronaut's cabin, where he will conduct scientific observations, and a separate corner where he will have lunch, and I even figured out where he should wash himself, and invented self-extending buckets for this, so that he would collect rainwater in them .
And when I showed this plan to Alenka, Mishka and Kostya, they all liked it very much. Only buckets Mishka crossed out.
He said:
They will slow down.
And Kostya said:
Of course of course! Take those buckets away.
And Alenka said:
Well, absolutely them!
And then I did not argue with them, and we stopped all unnecessary conversations and set to work.
We got a heavy rammer. Mishka and I pounded the ground with it. And Alenka walked behind us and trimmed our sandals right behind us. They were brand new, beautiful, and after five minutes they turned gray. Repainted from dust.
We wonderfully compacted the site and worked together. And another guy joined us, Andryushka, he is six years old. Although he is a little reddish, he is quite smart. And in the midst of work, a window on the fourth floor opened, and Alenka's mother shouted:
Alenka! Home now! Breakfast!
And when Alenka ran away, Kostya said:
It's even better that she's gone!
Mishka said:
It's a pity. However, the labor force...
I said:
Let's fit in!
And we leaned on, and very soon the site was completely ready. The bear examined her, laughed with pleasure and said:
Now the main thing must be decided: who will be the astronaut.
Andryushka immediately responded:
I will be an astronaut, because I am the smallest, I weigh the least!
And Kostya:
That is still unknown. I was sick, do you know how I lost weight? Three kilos! I am an astronaut.
Mishka and I just looked at each other. These little devils have already decided that they will be cosmonauts, but they seem to have forgotten about us.
After all, I came up with the whole game. And, of course, I will be an astronaut!
And as soon as I had time to think so, Mishka suddenly declares:
And who was in charge of all the work here now? A? I was in command! So I'll be an astronaut!
I didn't like this at all. I said:
Let's build the rocket first. And then we will do tests for an astronaut. And then we'll set the launch.
They were immediately glad that there was still a lot of play left, and Andryushka said:
Let's build a rocket!
Kostik said:
Right!
Mishka said:
Well, I agree.
We began to build a rocket right on our launch pad. There lay a hefty pot-bellied barrel. It used to have chalk in it, but now it was empty. It was wooden and almost completely intact, and I immediately understood everything and said:
This will be the cabin. Any astronaut can fit here, even the real one, not like me or Mishka.
And we put this barrel in the middle, and Kostya immediately dragged some old nobody's samovar from the back door. He attached it to the barrel to pour fuel into it. It turned out very difficult. Mishka and I made an internal device and two windows on the sides: these were portholes for observation. Andryushka dragged a fairly large box with a lid on and pushed it halfway into the barrel. At first I did not understand what it was, and asked Andryushka:
What is this for?
And he said:
What do you mean why? This is the second step!
Mishka said:
Well done!
And our work is in full swing. We took out different paints, and a few pieces of tin, and nails, and strings, and stretched these strings along the rocket, and nailed the tins to the tail unit, and tinted long stripes all over the side of the barrel, and did a lot of other things, you can’t tell everything. And when we saw that everything was ready for us, Mishka suddenly turned off the tap at the samovar, which was our fuel tank. Mishka turned off the faucet, but nothing came out. Mishka got terribly excited, he touched the bottom of the dry faucet with his finger, turned to Andryushka, who was considered our chief engineer, and yelled:
What are you? What have you done?
Andryushka said:
Then Mishka got completely angry and yelled even worse:
Be silent! Are you the chief engineer or what?
Andryushka said:
I am the chief engineer. What are you yelling at?
Where is the fuel in the car? After all, in the samovar ... that is, in the tank, there is not a drop of fuel.
And Andryushka:
So what?
Then Bear to him:
But as ladies, then you will know "so what"!
Here I intervened and shouted:
Fill the tank! Mechanic, quickly!
And I looked menacingly at Kostya. He immediately realized that he was the mechanic, grabbed a bucket and ran to the boiler room for water. He got half a bucket of hot water there, ran back, climbed on a brick and began to pour.
He poured water into the samovar and shouted:
There is fuel! Everything is fine!
And Mishka stood under the samovar and scolded Andryushka for what the world is worth.
And then water poured on Mishka. She was not hot, but wow, quite sensitive, and when she burst into Mishka's collar and head, he was very frightened and jumped back as if scalded. The samovar was, apparently, full of holes. He doused Mishka almost everything, and the chief engineer laughed maliciously:
Serves you right!
Misha's eyes sparkled.
And I saw that Mishka was about to give this impudent engineer in the neck, so I quickly stood between them and said:
Listen, kid, what are we going to call our ship?
- "Torpedo" ... - said Kostya.
Or Spartak, Andryushka interrupted, or Dynamo.
The bear was offended again and said:
No, then CSKA!
I told them:
After all, this is not football! You still call our Pakhtakor rocket! It should be called "Vostok-2"! Because Gagarin just calls the ship "Vostok", and we will have "Vostok-2"! .. On, Mishka, paint, write!
He immediately took a brush and began to paint, snuffling his nose. He even stuck out his tongue. We began to look at him, but he said:
Don't interfere! Don't look at your hand!
And we moved away from it.
And at that time I took the thermometer, which I dragged from the bathroom, and measured Andryushka's temperature. He had forty-eight and six. I just clutched my head: I have never seen an ordinary boy have such a high temperature. I said:
This is some kind of horror! You must have rheumatism or typhus. Temperature forty-eight and six! Step aside.
He walked away, but then Kostya intervened:
Now look at me! I want to be an astronaut too!
What a misfortune it turns out: everyone wants it! There is no direct retreat from them. Every little thing, but there too!
I told Kostya:
First, you're after measles. And no mother will allow you to be an astronaut. And secondly, show your tongue!
He immediately stuck out the tip of his tongue. The tongue was pink and wet, but it was hardly visible.
I said:
What are you showing me some tip! Let's get it all out!
He immediately threw out his entire tongue, so that he almost reached the collar. It was unpleasant to look at it, and I told him:
Everything, everything, that's enough! Enough! You can remove your tongue. It's way too long, that's what. It's just awfully long. I even wonder how it fits in your mouth.
Kostya was completely at a loss, but then he came to his senses, closed his eyes and said with a threat:
You don't crack! You tell me directly: am I fit to be an astronaut?
Then I said:
With this language? Of course not! Don't you understand that if an astronaut has a long tongue, he's no good anymore? After all, he will tell everyone in the world all the secrets: where which star is spinning, and all that ... No, you, Kostya, better calm down! With your tongue it is better to sit on the Earth.
Here Kostya blushed like a tomato for no reason. He took a step back from me, clenched his fists, and I realized that now we were going to start a real fight with him. So I also quickly spat into my fists and put my foot forward so that I had a real boxing stance, like in the photo of a lightweight champion.
Kostik said:
Now I'll give a splash!
And I said:
You'll grab two!
He said:
You will roll on the ground!
Consider that you are already dead!
Then he thought and said:
Feel free to get in touch...
Well shut up!
And then Mishka shouted to us from the rocket:
Hey, Kostya, Deniska, Andryushka! Go watch the inscription.
We ran to Mishka and began to look. Wow there was an inscription, only a curve and at the end curled down. Andryushka said:
In great!
And Kostya said:
And I didn't say anything. Because it was written like this: "VASTOK-2".
I did not bother Mishka with this, but went up and corrected both mistakes. I wrote: "VOSTOG-2".
And that's it. The bear blushed and remained silent. Then he came up to me, took me under the visor.
When are you planning to launch? - asked Mishka.
I said:
In one hour!
Mishka said:
Zero zero?
And I answered:
Zero zero!
* * *
First of all, we needed to get the explosives. It wasn't easy, but something came up. Firstly, Andryushka brought ten pieces of Christmas sparklers. Then Mishka also brought some kind of bag - I forgot the name, like boric acid. Mishka said that this acid burns very beautifully. And I brought two crackers, I have had them lying around in a box since last year. And we took a pipe from our samovar-tank, plugged it at one end with a rag and pushed all our explosives in there and shook it properly. And then Kostya brought some kind of belt from my mother's dressing gown, and we made a fickford cord out of it. We put all our pipe in the second stage of the rocket and tied it with ropes, and the cord was pulled out, and it lay behind our rocket on the ground, like the tail of a snake.
And now we were all set.
Now, - said Mishka, - it's time to decide who will fly. You or me, because Andryushka and Kostya are not suitable yet.
Yes, - I said, - they are not suitable for health reasons.
As soon as I said this, tears immediately dripped from Andryushka, and Kostya turned away and began to dig the wall, because he, too, probably dripped, but he was embarrassed that he was soon seven, and he was crying. Then I said:
Kostya is appointed as the Chief Igniter!
And Andryushka is appointed as the Main Launcher!
Then they both turned to us, and their faces became much more cheerful, and no tears were visible, just amazing!
Then I said:
Mishka said:
Only, mind you, I think!
The hare-white-where-ran-in-the-forest-oak-what-did-bass-dral-where-
put-the-deck-who-stole-Spyridon-Mor-del-on-tintil-vintile-get out!
Mishka got out. Of course, he is older than both Kostya and Andryushka, but his eyes became so sad that it was not for him to fly, just horror!
I said:
Bear, you will fly on the next flight without any rhyme, okay?
And he said:
Come sit down!
Well, there's nothing you can do about it, I honestly got it. We reckoned with him, and he himself reckoned, but it fell out to me, there's nothing to be done about it. And I immediately climbed into the barrel. It was dark and cramped, especially the second step bothered me. Because of her, it was impossible to lie still, she dug into her side. I wanted to turn around and lie on my stomach: but then I cracked my head on the tank, it was sticking out in front. I thought that, of course, it is difficult for an astronaut to sit in the cockpit, because there is a lot of equipment, even too much! But still, I adapted, and curled up in three deaths, and lay down, and began to wait for the launch.
And now I hear - Mishka screams:
Get ready! Smirrnaa! Starter, don't pick your nose! Go to the motors.
Available for motors!
And I realized that soon the launch, and began to lie further.
And now I hear - Mishka again commands:
Chief Igniter! Get ready! Light up…
And right away I heard how Kostya was fumbling with his matchbox and, it seems, cannot get a match out of excitement, and Mishka, of course, is stretching the team so that everything matches together - and Kostya's match and his team. Here he is pulling:
And I thought: well, now! And even my heart skipped a beat! And Kostya is still rattling matches. I clearly imagined how his hands were shaking and he could not grasp the match.
And Mishka is his:
Light it up... Come on, you unfortunate wahlya! Fire…
And suddenly I clearly heard: teal!
- ... burn it! Light it up!
I closed my eyes, cringed, and prepared to fly. It would be great if it was true, everyone would go crazy, and I closed my eyes even tighter. But there was nothing: no explosion, no shock, no fire, no smoke - nothing. And finally I got tired of it, and I yelled from the barrel:
Soon there, right? My whole side is lying down - whining!
And then Mishka climbed into my rocket. He said:
Zaelo. Bickford cord failed.
I almost kicked him with my foot in anger:
Oh, you, engineers are called! You can't launch a simple rocket! Well, let me!
And I got out of the rocket. Andryushka and Kostya fiddled with the cord, and nothing came of them. I said:
Comrade Mishka! Get these fools out of business! I myself!
And he went up to the samovar pipe and, first of all, completely tore off their mother's kickford belt. I called out to them:
Well, go away! Alive!
And they all fled in all directions. And I put my hand into the pipe, and again mixed everything there, and laid the sparklers on top. Then I lit a match and put it in the pipe. I shouted:
Hold on!
And ran away. I did not think that there would be anything special, because there, in the pipe, there was nothing like that. I wanted to shout at the top of my voice now: "Bukh, tarrarah!" - like it's a blast to play on. And I already took a breath and wanted to shout louder, but at that time something in the chimney whistled and gave a whistle! And the pipe flew off from the second stage, and began to fly up, and fall, and smoke! .. And then how it bobs! Wow! It's probably crackers there worked, I don't know, or Mishkin's powder! Bach! Bach! Bach! I must have been a little scared because of this banging, because I saw a door in front of me, and decided to run through it, and opened it, and entered this door, but it turned out to be not a door, but a window, and I just ran into it, so he stumbled and fell right into our house management. There, Zinaida Ivanovna was sitting at the table, and she counted on a typewriter how much to pay for the apartment. And when she saw me, she probably did not immediately recognize me, because I was dirty, straight from a dirty barrel, shaggy and even torn in some places. She simply froze when I fell to her from the window, and she began to brush me off with both hands. She screamed:
What is this? Who is this?
And I must have looked like a devil or some kind of underground monster, because she completely lost her mind and began to shout at me as if I were a neuter noun.
Gone out! Get out of here! Wow gone!
And I got to my feet, pressed my hands at my sides and politely said to her:
Hello Zinaida Ivanna! Don't worry, it's me!
And he began to slowly make his way to the exit. And Zinaida Ivanovna shouted after me:
Ah, it's Denis! All right!.. Wait!.. You'll find out from me!.. I'll tell Alexei Akimych everything!
And my mood was very spoiled from these screams. Because Aleksey Akimych is our house manager. And he will take me to my mother and dad will complain, and it will be bad for me. And I thought how good it was that he was not at the house administration, and that I, perhaps, after all, should not catch his eye for two or three days, until everything is settled. And then I again became in a good mood, and I cheerfully and cheerfully left the house management. And as soon as I found myself in the yard, I immediately saw a whole crowd of our guys. They ran and clamored, and in front of them Alexei Akimych ran rather briskly. I was terribly afraid. I thought that he saw our rocket, how it was blown up, and maybe the damn pipe broke the windows or something, and now he is running to look for the culprit, and someone told him that I was the main culprit, and then he saw me, I was right in front of him, and now he will grab me! I thought all this in one second, and while I was thinking it all out, I was already running from Alexei Akimych with all my might, but over my shoulder I saw that he was running after me with all his might, and then I ran past the garden, and to the right, and ran around the fungus, but Alexey Akimych rushed to cut me and splashed through the fountain right in his trousers, and my heart sank into my heels, and then he grabbed me by the shirt. And I thought: that's it, the end. And he intercepted me with both hands under the armpits and how he would throw me up! And I can’t stand it when they lift me up by the armpits: it tickles me, and I writhe like I don’t know who and break out. And here I am looking at him from above and writhing, and he looks at me and suddenly declares for no reason:
Shout "hooray"! Well! Scream "Hurrah" now!
And then I got even more frightened: I thought he was crazy. And that, perhaps, there is no need to argue with him, since he is crazy. And I shouted not too loudly:
Hurrah! .. And what's the matter?
And then Alexei Akimych put me down and said:
And the fact is that today the second cosmonaut was launched! Comrade German Titov! Well, what, not cheers, or what?
Here I will scream:
Of course, cheers! What another wow!
I shouted so loudly that the pigeons jumped up. But Aleksey Akimych smiled and went to his house administration.
And we all ran to the loudspeaker in a crowd and listened for an hour to what they were broadcasting about Comrade German Titov, and about his flight, and how he eats, and everything, everything, everything. And when there was a break in the radio, I said:
Where is Mishka?
And suddenly I hear:
I'm here!
In fact, it turns out he's right there. I was in such a fever that I didn't even notice it. I said:
Where have you been?
I'm here. I'm here all the time.
I asked:
How about our rocket? Did it explode into a thousand pieces?
What you! Wholesome! It's just the pipe rattling like that. And the rocket, what will happen to it? Worth it like nothing happened!
Shall we see?
And when we came running, I saw that everything was in order, everything was intact and you could play as much as you like. I said:
Mishka, and now two, then, astronauts?
He said:
Well, yes. Gagarin and Titov.
And I said:
They must be friends?
Of course, - said Mishka, - what other friends!
Then I put my hand on Mishka's shoulder. He had a narrow shoulder and thin. And we stood quietly and were silent, and then I said:
And we are friends, Mishka. And we will fly together on the next flight.
And then I went to the rocket, and found the paint, and gave it to Mishka to hold. And he stood by and held the paint and watched me paint and sniffed like we were painting together. And I saw another mistake and corrected it too, and when I finished, we took two steps back with him and looked at how beautifully it was written on our wonderful ship VOSTOK-3. .......................................................................................................
