Tales of Odoevsky
Fairy tale "Moroz Ivanovich" - magic story about two girls - the Needlewoman and Sloth and their strict nanny. The needlewoman spent all day doing needlework: she knitted, cooked, went for water, filtered water through coal and sand if the water was unclean, and Sloth only knew that all day long she toiled from idleness, and counted flies.
But then the Needlewoman had a misfortune - she dropped a bucket into the well, ran to the nanny with her misfortune, and she sent her to deal with her problem on her own. The needlewoman went down to the bottom of the well for a bucket and reached the dwelling of Moroz Ivanovich, on the way taking a pie from the stove and golden apples from an apple tree. She treated Moroz Ivanovich, who was very happy with her and offered to serve him for three days, and promised to reward him well for good service. For 3 days, the Needlewoman fluffed up a feather bed for Moroz Ivanovich, cooked food, darned clothes. After three days, Moroz Ivanovich thanked the Needlewoman with a bucket of silver nickels and a diamond. When the nanny saw what gifts the Needlewoman returned with, she immediately equipped Lenivitsa so that she could work with Moroz Ivanovich for three days. But since Sloth could not do anything and only spoiled everything she touched, Moroz Ivanovich gave her a large ingot of silver for the work, which turned out to be frozen mercury and melted on the surface, and a large diamond, which turned out to be an icicle and also melted. So Moroz Ivanovich rewarded each according to her deserts.
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Nothing is given to us for nothing without labor,
- it is not for nothing that the proverb has been carried on from time immemorial.
Two girls lived in the same house - the Needlewoman and Lenivitsa, and with them a nanny.
The needlewoman was a smart girl: she got up early, herself, without a nanny, dressed, and getting out of bed, she got down to business: she stoked the stove, kneaded bread, chalked the hut, fed the rooster, and then went to the well for water.
And Sloth, meanwhile, was lying in bed, stretching, waddling from side to side, is it really boring to lie down, so she will say when she wakes up: "Nanny, put on my stockings, nanny, tie my shoes," and then she will say: "Nanny, is there a bun?" . He gets up, jumps, and sits by the window of flies to count: how many flew in and how many flew away. As Sloth counts everyone, he doesn’t know what to start and what to do; she would go to bed - but she does not want to sleep; she would like to eat - but she doesn’t feel like eating; she would count flies to the window - and even then she was tired. She sits, miserable, and cries and complains about everyone that she is bored, as if others are to blame.
Meanwhile, the Needlewoman returns, strains the water, pours it into jugs; and what an entertainer: if the water is unclean, then she folds a sheet of paper, puts coals in it and pours coarse sand, inserts that paper into a jug and pours water into it, but you know the water passes through the sand and through the coals and drips into the jug clean like crystal; and then the Needlewoman will begin to knit stockings or cut scarves, or else sew and cut shirts, and even drag out a needlework song; and she was never bored, because she had no time to be bored either: now on this, now on another task, and here, you see, the evening - the day has passed.
Once a misfortune happened to the Needlewoman: she went to the well for water, lowered the bucket on the rope, and the rope broke; the bucket fell into the well. How to be here?
The poor Needlewoman burst into tears, and went to the nanny to tell about her misfortune and misfortune; and nanny Praskovya was so strict and angry, she said:
- She made the trouble herself, and correct it herself; she drowned the bucket herself, and get it herself.
There was nothing to do: the poor Needlewoman again went to the well, grabbed the rope and went down it to the very bottom. Only then a miracle happened to her. As soon as she got down, she looked: there was a stove in front of her, and in the stove there was a pie, so ruddy, fried; sits, looks and says:
- I'm quite ready, browned, fried with sugar and raisins; whoever takes me out of the oven will go with me! The needlewoman, without any hesitation, grabbed a spatula, took out a pie and put it in her bosom.
She goes further. There is a garden in front of her, and in the garden there is a tree, and golden apples on the tree; apples move their leaves and say among themselves:
- We, liquid apples, are ripe; they ate the root of the tree, washed themselves with icy dew; whoever shakes us off the tree will take us for himself.
The needlewoman went up to the tree, shook it by the branch, and the golden apples fell down into her apron.
The needlewoman goes further. She looks: in front of her sits an old man Moroz Ivanovich, gray-haired; he sits on an ice bench and eats snowballs; shakes his head - frost falls from his hair, he dies in spirit - thick steam pours out.
- BUT! - he said. - Hello, Needlewoman! Thank you for bringing me a pie; I haven't eaten anything hot in a long time.
Then he sat the Needlewoman next to him, and they had breakfast together with a pie, and ate golden apples.
- I know why you came, - says Moroz Ivanovich, - you lowered a bucket into my student; I’ll give you a bucket, only you serve me for three days; you will be smart, you are better off; If you're lazy, it's worse for you. And now, added Moroz Ivanovich, “it’s time for me, an old man, to rest; go and make my bed, and see if you fluff the feather bed well.
The needlewoman obeyed... They went into the house. Moroz Ivanovich's house was made entirely of ice: the doors, the windows, and the floor were icy, and the walls were decorated with snow stars; the sun shone on them, and everything in the house shone like diamonds. On Moroz Ivanovich's bed, instead of a feather bed, lay fluffy snow; cold and there was nothing to do.
The needlewoman began to whip up the snow so that the old man could sleep softer, but meanwhile her hands, poor, were ossified and her fingers turned white, like those of poor people, that in winter they rinse their linen in the hole: it’s cold, and the wind in the face, and the linen freezes, stake worth it, but there is nothing to do - poor people work.
- Nothing, - said Moroz Ivanovich, - just rub your fingers with snow, and they will go away, you won’t get a chill. I'm a kind old man; look at my curiosities.
Then he lifted his snowy featherbed with a blanket, and the Needlewoman saw that green grass was breaking through under the featherbed. The needlewoman felt sorry for the poor weed.
“So you say,” she said, “that you are a kind old man, but why do you keep green grass under a snowy feather bed, don’t let it out into the light of day?”
- I don’t release it because it’s not time yet, the grass hasn’t come into force yet. In the autumn, the peasants sowed it, and it sprouted, and if it had already stretched out, then winter would have captured it, and by the summer the grass would not have ripened. So I covered the young greenery with my snowy featherbed, and even lay down on it myself so that the snow would not be blown away by the wind, and then spring would come, the snowy featherbed would melt, the grass would sprout, and there, you look, grain would also look out, and the peasant would collect grain and on will take the mill; the miller will sweep away the grain, and there will be flour, and you, Needlewoman, will bake bread from flour.
- Well, tell me, Moroz Ivanovich, - said the Needlewoman, - why are you sitting in the well?
- Then I sit in the well, that spring is coming, - said Moroz Ivanovich. I get hot; and you know that it is cold in the well in the summer, and that is why the water in the well is cold, even in the middle of the hottest summer.
- And why are you, Moroz Ivanovich, - asked the Needlewoman, - in winter you walk through the streets and knock on the windows?
- And then I knock on the window, - answered Moroz Ivanovich, - so that they don’t forget to heat the stoves and close the pipes in time; otherwise, because I know there are such sluts that they will heat the stove, but they won’t close the pipe, or they will close it, but at the wrong time, when not all the coals have burnt out, but because of that, carbon monoxide happens in the upper room, people’s heads hurt , in the eyes of green; You can even die of fumes completely. And then I also knock on the window so that no one forgets that there are people in the world who are cold in winter, who don’t have a fur coat, and there’s nothing to buy firewood; then I knock on the window so that they don’t forget to help them.
Here good Frost Ivanovich patted the Needlewoman on the head, and lay down to rest on his snowy bed.
The needlewoman, meanwhile, cleaned up everything in the house, went to the kitchen, cooked the food, mended the old man's dress and darned the linen.
The old man woke up; was very pleased with everything and thanked the Needlewoman. Then they sat down to dine; the dinner was excellent, and the ice-cream that the old man made himself was especially good.
So the Needlewoman lived with Moroz Ivanovich for three whole days.
On the third day, Moroz Ivanovich said to the needlewoman:
- Thank you, you are a smart girl, well you consoled me, an old man, and I will not remain in your debt. You know: people get money for needlework, so here's your bucket for you, and I poured a whole handful of silver patches into the bucket; yes, moreover, here is a diamond for you to remember - to stab a scarf.
The needlewoman thanked, pinned the diamond, took the bucket, went back to the well, grabbed the rope and went out into the light of day.
She had just begun to come up to the house like the rooster she always fed; saw her, was delighted, flew up to the fence and shouted:
Crows, cocks!
The Needlewoman has nickels in a bucket!
When the Needlewoman came home and told everything that had happened to her, the nanny was very surprised, and then said:
- You see, Sloth, what people get for needlework! Go to the old man and serve him, work; clean his room, cook in the kitchen, mend your dress and darn your linen, and you will earn a handful of nickels, but it will come in handy: we don’t have enough money for the holiday.
It was very distasteful for Sloth to go to work with the old man. But she wanted to get a nickel and a diamond pin too.
Here, following the example of the Needlewoman, Sloth went to the well, grabbed the rope, and bang right to the bottom. She looks - in front of her is a stove, and in the stove sits a pie, so ruddy, fried; sits, looks and says:
- I'm quite ready, browned, fried with sugar and raisins; whoever takes me will go with me. And Sloth answered him:
- Yes, no matter how! I have to tire myself - to raise a shovel and reach into the stove; if you want, you can jump out.
She goes further, in front of her there is a garden, and in the garden there is a tree, and golden apples on the tree; apples move their leaves and say among themselves:
- We are liquid apples, ripe; they ate the root of the tree, washed themselves with icy dew; whoever shakes us off the tree will take us for himself.
- Yes, no matter how! - answered Sloth. - I'll tire myself - raise my hands, pull the branches ... I'll have time to score, as they themselves attack!
And Sloth passed by them. So she came to Moroz Ivanovich. The old man was still sitting on the icy bench and biting the snowballs.
- What do you want, girl? - he asked.
- I came to you, - Sloth answered, - to serve and get a job.
- You said it right, girl, - the old man answered, - money follows for work, just let's see what else your work will be! Go ahead and fluff up my feather bed, and then prepare some food, and mend my dress, and darn my linen.
Lenivitsa went, and on the way she thinks:
“I’ll tire myself out and chill my fingers! Maybe the old man won’t notice and will fall asleep on an unwhipped feather bed.”
The old man really did not notice, or pretended not to notice, went to bed and fell asleep, and Sloth went into the kitchen. Came to the kitchen, and did not know what to do. She loved to eat, but it never occurred to her to think about how the food was prepared; and she was too lazy to look. So she looked around: in front of her lies greens, and meat, and fish, and vinegar, and mustard, and kvass - everything in order. She thought, she thought, somehow she cleaned the greens, cut the meat and fish, and so as not to give herself much work, as everything was, washed or unwashed, she put it in a saucepan: greens, and meat, and fish, and mustard, and vinegar and added kvass, and she herself thinks:
- Why bother to cook each thing separately? After all, everything will be together in the stomach.
Here the old man woke up, asks for dinner. Sloth brought him a pan as it is, she didn’t even spread the tablecloths. Moroz Ivanovich tried it, grimaced, and the sand crunched on his teeth.
"You're good at cooking," he remarked, smiling. - Let's see what your other job will be.
Sloth tasted it, and immediately spat it out, and the old man groaned, groaned, and began to cook food himself and made dinner well, so that Sloth licked her fingers, eating someone else's cooking.
After dinner the old man lay down again to rest and reminded Sloth that his dress had not been mended, and his linen had not been darned either.
The sloth pouted, but there was nothing to do: she began to sort out her dress and linen; Yes, and here is the trouble: Sloth sewed clothes and linen, but how they sew it, she didn’t ask about it; she took a needle, but out of habit she pricked herself; so she threw it away. And the old man again seemed not to notice anything, he called Sloth to dinner, and even put him to bed.
And Lenivitsa is happy; thinks to himself:
"Perhaps it will pass anyway. It was free for the sister to take on the work; the good old man, he will give me five nickels for nothing."
On the third day, Lenivitsa comes and asks Moroz Ivanovich to let her go home and reward her for her work.
- What was your job? - asked the old man. “If it came to the truth, then you must pay me, because you didn’t work for me, but I served you.”
- Yes, how! - answered Sloth. “I stayed with you for three whole days.
“You know, my dear,” answered the old man, “what I’ll tell you: to live and serve is a difference, and work and work are different; notice this: it will come in handy ahead. But, however, if your conscience does not look down, I will reward you: and what is your work, such will be your reward.
With these words, Moroz Ivanovich gave Lenivitsa a large silver ingot, and in his other hand, a large diamond.
The sloth was so happy about this that she grabbed both and, without even thanking the old man, ran home.
Come home and brag.
Here, he says, is what I have earned; not a couple of sisters, not a handful of patches and not a small diamond, but a whole silver ingot, you see, how heavy, and the diamond is almost the size of a fist ... You can buy a new one for the holiday ...
Before she had time to finish, the silver ingot melted and poured onto the floor; he was nothing but quicksilver, which had hardened from the intense cold; at the same time the diamond began to melt. And the rooster jumped on the fence and cried loudly:
cock-crow,
Sloth has an ice icicle in her hands!
And you, kids, think, guess what is true here, what is not true; what is said really, what is said by the side; what a joke, what in instruction ...
The fairy tale "Moroz Ivanovich" that kindness and diligence will always lead a person to success and a happy life.
Tale of Vladimir Odoevsky Moroz Ivanovich
Nothing is given to us for nothing, without labor, it is not for nothing that the proverb has been kept from time immemorial. (A. Tutrin)
In the same house lived two girls Needlewoman and Lenivitsa, and with them a nanny. The needlewoman was a smart girl: she got up early, herself, without a nanny, dressed, and getting out of bed, she got down to business: she stoked the stove, kneaded bread, chalked the hut, fed the rooster, and then went to the well for water.
And Sloth, meanwhile, lay in bed, stretching, waddling from side to side, is it really boring to lie down, so she will say when she wakes up: “Nanny, put on my stockings, nanny, tie my shoes,” and then she will say: “Nanny, is there a bun?” He gets up, jumps, and sits by the window to count flies; how many flew in and how many flew away; As Sloth counts everyone, he doesn’t know what to start and what to do; she would not want to go to bed and sleep; she would not want to eat and eat; she would be counting flies to the window, and even then she was tired. She sits, miserable, and cries and complains about everyone that she is bored, as if others are to blame.
Meanwhile, the Needlewoman returns, strains the water, pours it into jugs; and what an entertainer: if the water is unclean, then she folds a sheet of paper, puts coals in it and pours coarse sand, inserts that paper into a jug and pours water into it, but you know the water passes through the sand and through the coals and drips into the jug clean like crystal; and then the Needlewoman will begin to knit stockings or cut scarves, or else sew and cut shirts, and even drag out a needlework song; and she was never bored, because there was no time for her to be bored either: now on this, now on another task, and here, you see, the evening and the day passed.
Once a misfortune happened to the Needlewoman: she went to the well for water, lowered the bucket on the rope, and the rope broke; the bucket fell into the well. How to be here? The poor Needlewoman burst into tears, and went to the nanny to tell about her misfortune and misfortune; and nanny Praskovya was so strict and angry, she said:
- She made the trouble herself, and correct it herself; she drowned the bucket herself, and get it herself.
There was nothing to do: the poor Needlewoman again went to the well, grabbed the rope and went down it to the very bottom. Only then a miracle happened to her. As soon as she got down, she looked: there was a stove in front of her, and in the stove there was a pie, so ruddy, fried; sits, looks and says:
- I'm quite ready, browned, fried with sugar and raisins; whoever takes me out of the oven will go with me!
The needlewoman, without any hesitation, grabbed a spatula, took out a pie and put it in her bosom. She goes further. There is a garden in front of her, and in the garden there is a tree, and golden apples on the tree; apples move their leaves and say among themselves:
- We, bulk apples, are ripe; they ate the root of the tree, washed themselves with icy dew; whoever shakes us off the tree will take us for himself.
The needlewoman went up to the tree, shook it by the branch, and the golden apples fell down into her apron.
- BUT! he said. Hello, Craftsman! Thank you for bringing me a pie; I haven't eaten anything hot in a long time.
Then he sat the Needlewoman next to him, and they had breakfast together with a pie, and ate golden apples.
I know why you came, says Moroz Ivanovich, you lowered a bucket into my student (well); I’ll give you a bucket, only you serve me for three days; you will be smart, you are better off; If you're lazy, it's worse for you. And now, added Moroz Ivanovich, it's time for me, an old man, to rest; go and make my bed, and see if you fluff the feather bed well.
The needlewoman obeyed... They went into the house. Moroz Ivanovich's house was made entirely of ice: the doors, the windows, and the floor were icy, and the walls were decorated with snow stars; the sun shone on them, and everything in the house shone like diamonds. On Moroz Ivanovich's bed, instead of a feather bed, lay fluffy snow; cold and there was nothing to do. The needlewoman began to whip up the snow so that the old man could sleep softer, but meanwhile her hands, poor, were ossified and her fingers turned white, like those of poor people, that in winter they rinse their linen in the hole: it’s cold, and the wind in the face, and the linen freezes, stake worth, and there is nothing to do poor people work.
Nothing, said Moroz Ivanovich, just rub your fingers with snow, and they will go away, you won’t get a chill. I'm a kind old man; look at my curiosities.
Then he lifted his snowy featherbed with a blanket, and the Needlewoman saw that green grass was breaking through under the featherbed. The needlewoman felt sorry for the poor weed.
- So you say, she said, that you are a kind old man, but why do you keep green grass under a snowy feather bed, do not let it out into the light of God?
- I don’t release it because it’s not time yet, the grass hasn’t come into force yet. In the autumn, the peasants sowed it, and it sprouted, and if it had already stretched out, then winter would have captured it, and by the summer the grass would not have ripened. So I covered the young greenery with my snowy featherbed, and even lay down on it myself so that the snow would not be blown away by the wind, but then spring would come, the snowy featherbed would melt, the grass would sprout, and there, you look, grain would also look out, and the peasant would collect grain and on will take the mill; the miller will sweep away the grain, and there will be flour, and you, Needlewoman, will bake bread from flour.
“Well, tell me, Moroz Ivanovich,” said the Needlewoman, why are you sitting in the well?
- Then I sit in the well, that spring is coming, said Moroz Ivanovich. I get hot; and you know that it is cold in the well in the summer, and that is why the water in the well is cold, even in the middle of the hottest summer.
- And why do you, Moroz Ivanovich, asked the Needlewoman, walk the streets in winter and knock on the windows?
- And then I knock on the windows, answered Moroz Ivanovich, so that they do not forget to heat the stoves and close the pipes in time; otherwise, because I know there are such sluts that they will heat the stove, but they won’t close the pipe, or they will close it, but at the wrong time, when not all the coals have burnt out, but because of that, carbon monoxide happens in the upper room, people’s heads hurt , in the eyes of green; You can even die of fumes completely. And then I also knock on the window so that no one forgets that there are people in the world who are cold in winter, who don’t have a fur coat, and there’s nothing to buy firewood; then I knock on the window so that they don’t forget to help them.
Here the kind Moroz Ivanovich stroked the Needlewoman on the head, and lay down to rest on his snowy bed. The needlewoman, meanwhile, cleaned up everything in the house, went to the kitchen, cooked the food, mended the old man's dress and darned the linen.
The old man woke up; was very pleased with everything and thanked the Needlewoman. Then they sat down to dine; the dinner was excellent, and the ice-cream that the old man made himself was especially good.
So the Needlewoman lived with Moroz Ivanovich for three whole days.
On the third day, Moroz Ivanovich said to the needlewoman:
“Thank you, you smart girl, it’s good that you comforted me, the old man, and I won’t remain in your debt. You know: people get money for needlework, so here's your bucket for you, and I poured a whole handful of silver patches into the bucket; yes, besides that, here's a diamond scarf for you to stab as a keepsake.
The needlewoman thanked, pinned the diamond, took the bucket, went back to the well, grabbed the rope and went out into the light of God.
As soon as she began to approach the house, the rooster, which she always fed, saw her, was delighted, flew up to the fence and cried:
Cuckoo, crow! The Needlewoman has nickels in a bucket!
When the Needlewoman came home and told everything that had happened to her, the nanny was very surprised, and then said:
- You see, Sloth, what people get for needlework! Go to the old man and serve him, work; clean his room, cook in the kitchen, mend your dress and darn your linen, and you will earn a handful of nickels, but it will come in handy: we don’t have enough money for the holiday.
It was very distasteful for Sloth to go to work with the old man. But she wanted to get a nickel and a diamond pin too. Here, following the example of the Needlewoman, Sloth went to the well, grabbed the rope, and bang right to the bottom. The stove looks in front of her, and in the stove sits a pie, so ruddy, fried; sits, looks and says:
- I'm quite ready, browned, fried with sugar and raisins; whoever takes me will go with me.
And Sloth answered him:
- Yes, no matter how! I have to tire myself with lifting a spatula and reaching into the stove; if you want, you can jump out.
- We are liquid apples, ripe; they ate the root of the tree, washed themselves with icy dew; whoever shakes us off the tree will take us for himself.
- Yes, no matter how! answered Sloth. I'm tired of raising my arms, pulling on the branches ... I'll have time to score, as they themselves attack!
And Sloth passed by them. So she came to Moroz Ivanovich. The old man was still sitting on the icy bench and biting the snowballs.
"What do you want, girl?" he asked.
- I came to you, answered Sloth, to serve and get a job.
“You said sensibly, girl,” answered the old man, money follows for work, just let’s see what else your work will be! Go ahead and fluff up my feather bed, and then prepare some food, and mend my dress, and darn my linen.
Sloth went, and on the way she thought: “I will tire myself and chill my fingers! Perhaps the old man will not notice and will fall asleep on an unwhipped feather bed.
The old man really did not notice, or pretended not to notice, went to bed and fell asleep, and Sloth went into the kitchen. Came to the kitchen, and did not know what to do. She loved to eat, but to think how the food was prepared, it never occurred to her; and she was too lazy to look. So she looked around: in front of her lies greens, and meat, and fish, and vinegar, and mustard, and kvass, all in order. She thought, she thought, somehow she cleaned the greens, cut the meat and fish, and so as not to give herself much work, as everything was, washed - unwashed, she put it in the pan: greens, and meat, and fish, and mustard, and vinegar, and even added kvass, and she herself thinks: “Why bother yourself, cook each thing especially? After all, everything will be together in the stomach.
Here the old man woke up, asks for dinner. Sloth brought him a pot as it is, she didn’t even spread the tablecloths. Moroz Ivanovich tried it, grimaced, and the sand crunched on his teeth.
"You're doing well," he remarked, smiling. Let's see what your other job will be.
Sloth tasted it, and immediately spat it out, and the old man groaned, groaned, and began to cook food himself and made dinner well, so that Sloth licked her fingers, eating someone else's cooking.
After dinner the old man lay down again to rest and reminded Sloth that his dress had not been mended, and his linen had not been darned either. The sloth pouted, but there was nothing to do: she began to sort out her dress and linen; Yes, and here is the trouble: Sloth sewed clothes and linen, but how they sew it, she didn’t ask about it; she took a needle, but out of habit she pricked herself; so she threw it away. And the old man again seemed not to notice anything, he called Sloth to dinner, and even put her to bed. And Lenivitsa is happy; thinks to himself: “Perhaps it will pass. It was free for the sister to take on the work; kind old man, he will give me piglets for free.
On the third day, Lenivitsa comes and asks Moroz Ivanovich to let her go home and reward her for her work.
- What was your job? asked the old man. If it came to the truth, then you must pay me, because it was not you who worked for me, but I served you.
— Yes, how! answered Sloth. I lived with you for three whole days.
“You know, my dear,” answered the old man, that I’ll tell you: there is a difference between living and serving, and work and work are different; notice this: it will come in handy ahead. But, however, if your conscience does not look down, I will reward you: and what is your work, such will be your reward.
With these words, Moroz Ivanovich gave Lenivitsa a large silver ingot, and a large diamond in his other hand. The sloth was so happy about this that she grabbed both and, without even thanking the old man, ran home. Come home and brag.
- Here, he says that I have earned; not a couple of sisters, not a handful of patches and not a small diamond, but a whole silver ingot, you see, how heavy, and the diamond is almost the size of a fist ... You can buy a new one for the holiday ...
Before she had time to finish, the silver ingot melted and poured onto the floor; he was nothing but quicksilver, which had hardened from the intense cold; at the same time the diamond began to melt. And the rooster jumped on the fence and cried loudly:
- Crow-crow. Sloth has an ice icicle in her hands!
And you, kids, think, guess what is true here, what is not true; what is said really, what is said by the side; what a joke, what in instruction ...
Frost Ivanovich. Two girls lived in the same house - the Needlewoman and Lenivitsa, and with them a nanny. The needlewoman was a smart girl: she got up early, herself, without a nanny, dressed, and getting out of bed, she got down to business: she stoked the stove, kneaded bread, chalked the hut, fed the rooster, and then went to the well for water. And Sloth, meanwhile, lay in bed, stretching, waddling from side to side, is it really boring to lie down, so she will say when she wakes up: “Nanny, put on my stockings, nanny, tie my shoes,” and then she will say: “Nanny, is there a bun?” He gets up, jumps and sits by the window of flies to count: how many flew in and how many flew away. As Sloth counts everyone, he doesn’t know what to start and what to do; she would go to bed - but she does not want to sleep; she would like to eat - but she doesn’t feel like eating; she would count flies to the window - and even then she was tired. She sits, miserable, and cries and complains about everyone that she is bored, as if others are to blame. Meanwhile, the Needlewoman returns, strains the water, pours it into jugs; and what an entertainer: if the water is unclean, he will roll up a sheet of paper, put coals in it and pour coarse sand, insert that paper into a jug and pour water into it, and water, you know, passes through the sand and through the coals and drops into the jug is clean, like crystal; and then the Needlewoman will begin to knit stockings or cut scarves, or even sew shirts and cut them, and even drag out a needlework song; and she was never bored, because she had no time to be bored either: now on this, now on another business, and here, you look, the evening has passed - the day has passed. Once, a misfortune happened to the Needlewoman: she went to the well for water, lowered the bucket on the rope, and the rope broke; the bucket fell into the well. How to be here? The poor needlewoman burst into tears and went to the nanny to tell about her misfortune and misfortune; and nanny Praskovya was so strict and angry, she said: - You yourself made the trouble, you yourself correct it; she drowned the bucket herself, and get it herself. There was nothing to do: the poor Needlewoman again went to the well, grabbed the rope and went down it to the very bottom. Only then a miracle happened to her. As soon as she got down, she looked: there was a stove in front of her, and in the stove there was a pie, so ruddy, fried; sits, looks and says: - I'm quite ready, browned, fried with sugar and raisins; whoever takes me out of the oven will go with me! The needlewoman, without any hesitation, grabbed a spatula, took out a pie and put it in her bosom. She goes further. There is a garden in front of her, and in the garden there is a tree, and golden apples on the tree; apples move their leaves and say among themselves: - We are liquid apples, ripe; they ate the root of the tree, washed themselves with icy dew; whoever shakes us from the tree will take us for himself. The needlewoman went up to the tree, shook it by the branch, and the golden apples fell down into her apron. The needlewoman moves on. She looks: in front of her sits an old man Moroz Ivanovich, gray-haired; he sits on an ice bench and eats snowballs; shakes his head - frost falls from his hair, breathes in spirit - thick steam pours out. - BUT! - he said. - Great, Needlewoman! Thank you for bringing me a pie; I haven't eaten anything hot in a long time. Then he sat the Needlewoman next to him, and they had breakfast together with a pie, and ate golden apples. - I know why you came, - says Moroz Ivanovich, - you lowered a bucket into my student; I’ll give you a bucket, only you serve me for three days; you will be smart, you are better off; If you're lazy, it's worse for you. And now, - added Moroz Ivanovich, - it's time for me, the old man, to rest; go and make my bed, and see if you fluff the feather bed well. The needlewoman obeyed. They went to the house. Moroz Ivanovich's house was made entirely of ice: the doors, the windows, and the floor were icy, and the walls were decorated with snow stars; the sun shone on them, and everything in the house shone like diamonds. On Moroz Ivanovich's bed, instead of a feather bed, lay fluffy snow; cold and there was nothing to do. The needlewoman began to beat the snow so that the old man could sleep softer, but meanwhile her poor hands ossified and her fingers turned white, like those of poor people, who rinse their linen in the hole in winter: it’s cold, and the wind in the face, and the linen freezes, stake worth it, but there is nothing to do - poor people work. - Nothing, - said Moroz Ivanovich, - just rub your fingers with snow, and they will go away, you won’t get chills. I'm a kind old man; look at my curiosities. Then he lifted his snowy featherbed with a blanket, and the Needlewoman saw that green grass was breaking through under the featherbed. The needlewoman felt sorry for the poor weed. - So you say, - she said, - that you are a kind old man, but why do you keep green grass under a snowy feather bed, do not let it out into the light of day? - I don’t release it because it’s not time yet; The grass hasn't come into play yet. In the autumn, the peasants sowed it, and it sprouted, and if it had already stretched out, then winter would have captured it, and by the summer the grass would not have ripened. So I covered the young greenery with my snowy feather bed, and even lay down on it myself so that the snow would not be blown away by the wind; but then spring will come, the snowy feather bed will melt, the grass will begin to grow, and there, you look, the grain will look out, and the peasant will collect the grain and take it to the mill; the miller will sweep away the grain, and there will be flour, and from the flour you, Needlewoman, will bake bread. - Well, tell me, Moroz Ivanovich, - said the Needlewoman, - why are you sitting in the well? “Then I’m sitting in the well, that spring is coming,” said Moroz Ivanovich, “it’s getting hot for me; and you know that even in the summer it is cold in the well, that is why the water in the well is cold, even in the middle of the hottest summer. - And why are you, Moroz Ivanovich, - asked the Needlewoman, - in winter you walk through the streets and knock on the windows? - And then I knock on the windows, - answered Moroz Ivanovich, - so that they do not forget to heat the stoves and close the pipes in time; otherwise, I know, there are such sluts that they will heat the stove, they will heat it, but they will not close the pipe, or they will close it, but at the wrong time, when not all the coals have burned out, and that’s why it happens in the upper room, the head is people hurt, green in the eyes; You can even die of fumes completely. And then I also knock on the window so that no one forgets that there are people in the world who are cold in winter, who do not have a fur coat, and there is nothing to buy firewood; then I knock on the window so that they don’t forget to help them. Here the kind Moroz Ivanovich stroked the Needlewoman on the head and lay down to rest on his snowy bed. The needlewoman, meanwhile, cleaned up everything in the house, went into the kitchen, cooked the food, mended the old man's dress and darned the linen. The old man woke up; was very pleased with everything and thanked the Needlewoman. Then they sat down to dine; the dinner was excellent, and the ice-cream that the old man made himself was especially good. Frost Ivanovich poured silver patches into a bucket for the needlewoman. So the Needlewoman lived with Moroz Ivanovich for three whole days. On the third day, Moroz Ivanovich said to the Needlewoman: - Thank you, you are a smart girl, you have comforted me, an old man, and I will not remain in your debt. You know: people get money for needlework, so here's your bucket for you, and I poured a whole handful of silver patches into the bucket; and moreover, here is a diamond for you to remember - to stab a scarf. The needlewoman thanked, pinned the diamond, took the bucket, went back to the well, grabbed the rope and went out into the light of day. As soon as she began to approach the house, like a rooster, which she always fed, saw her, was delighted, flew up to the fence and shouted: Crow-crow! The Needlewoman has nickels in a bucket! When the Needlewoman came home and told everything that had happened to her, the nanny was very surprised, and then she said: - You see, Sloth, what people get for needlework! Go to the old man and serve him, work; clean his room, cook in the kitchen, mend the dress and darn the linen, and you will earn a handful of nickels, but it will come in handy: we don’t have enough money for the holiday. It was very distasteful for Sloth to go to work with the old man. But she wanted to get a nickel and a diamond pin too. Here, following the example of the Needlewoman, Sloth went to the well, grabbed the rope and bang right to the bottom. The stove looks in front of her, and in the stove sits a pie, so ruddy, fried; sits, looks and says: - I'm quite ready, browned, fried with sugar and raisins; whoever takes me will go with me. And Sloth answered him: - Yes, no matter how it is! I have to tire myself - to raise a shovel and reach into the stove; if you want, you can jump out. She goes further, in front of her is a garden, and in the garden there is a tree, and golden apples on the tree; apples move their leaves and say among themselves: - We are liquid apples, ripe; they ate the root of the tree, washed themselves with icy dew; whoever shakes us from the tree will take us for himself. - Yes, no matter how! - answered Sloth. - I have to tire myself - raise my hands, pull the branches ... I will have time to score, as they themselves attack! And Sloth passed by them. So she came to Moroz Ivanovich. The old man was still sitting on the icy bench and biting the snowballs. - What do you want, girl? - he asked. - I came to you, - Sloth answered, - to serve and get a job. - You said sensibly, girl, - the old man answered, - money follows for the work, just let's see what else your work will be. Go ahead, fluff up my featherbed, and then prepare the food, but mend my dress, and darn my linen. Sloth went, and on the way she thought: “I will tire myself and chill my fingers! Perhaps the old man will not notice and will fall asleep on an unwhipped feather bed. The old man really did not notice, or pretended not to notice, went to bed and fell asleep, and Sloth went into the kitchen. She came to the kitchen and did not know what to do. She loved to eat, but it never occurred to her to think about how the food was prepared; and she was too lazy to look. So she looked around: in front of her lies greens, and meat, and fish, and vinegar, and mustard, and kvass - everything in order. She thought, she thought, somehow she cleaned the greens, cut the meat and fish, and so as not to give herself much work, as everything was washed, unwashed, she put it in a saucepan: greens, and meat, and fish, and mustard, and she poured vinegar and even added kvass, and she herself thinks: “Why bother yourself, cook each thing especially? After all, everything will be together in the stomach. Here the old man woke up, asks for dinner. Sloth brought him a pot as it is, she didn’t even spread the tablecloths. Moroz Ivanovich tried it, grimaced, and the sand crunched on his teeth. "You're doing well," he remarked, smiling. - Let's see what your other job will be. Sloth tasted it, and immediately spat it out, and the old man groaned, groaned, and began to cook the food himself and made dinner well, so that Sloth licked her fingers, eating someone else's cooking. After dinner the old man lay down to rest again, and reminded Lenivitsa that his dress had not been mended and his underwear had not been darned. The sloth pouted, but there was nothing to do: she began to sort out her dress and linen; Yes, and here is the trouble: Sloth sewed clothes and linen, but how they sew it, she didn’t ask about it; she took a needle, but out of habit she pricked herself; so she threw it away. And the old man again seemed not to notice anything, he called Sloth to dinner and even put her to bed. And Lenivitsa is happy; thinks to himself: “Perhaps it will pass. It was free for the sister to take on the work; kind old man, he will give me piglets for free. On the third day, Lenivitsa comes and asks Moroz Ivanovich to let her go home and reward her for her work. - What was your job? - asked the old man. - If it's true, then you must pay me, because you didn’t work for me, but I served you. - Yes, how! - answered Sloth. - I lived with you for three whole days. “You know, my dear,” answered the old man, “what I’ll tell you: to live and serve is a difference, and work and work are different; notice this: it will come in handy ahead. But, however, if your conscience does not look down, I will reward you: and what is your work, such will be your reward. With these words, Moroz Ivanovich gave Lenivitsa a large silver ingot, and in his other hand, a large diamond. The sloth was so happy about this that she grabbed both and, without even thanking the old man, ran home. Come home and brag. “Here,” he says, “what I have earned; not a couple of sisters, not a handful of patches and not a small diamond, but a whole silver ingot, you see, how heavy, and the diamond is almost the size of a fist ... You can buy an update for this holiday ... Before she had time to finish, how a silver ingot melted and poured onto the floor; he was nothing but quicksilver, which had hardened from the intense cold; at the same time the diamond began to melt. And the rooster jumped up on the fence and shouted loudly: Cuckoo-cuckoo, Sloth has an ice icicle in her hands! And you, kids, think, guess what is true here, what is not true; what is said really, what is said by the side; either for fun or for instruction.Two girls lived in the same house - the Needlewoman and Lenivitsa, and with them a nanny. The needlewoman was a smart girl: she got up early, herself, without a nanny, dressed, and getting out of bed, she got down to business: she stoked the stove, kneaded bread, chalked the hut, fed the rooster, and then went to the well for water.
And Sloth, meanwhile, lay in bed, stretching, waddling from side to side, is it really boring to lie down, so she will say when she wakes up: “Nanny, put on my stockings, nanny, tie my shoes,” and then she will say: “Nanny, is there a bun?”
He gets up, jumps and sits by the window of flies to count: how many flew in and how many flew away. As Sloth counts everyone, he doesn’t know what to start and what to do; she would like to go to bed - but she does not want to sleep; she would like to eat - but she doesn’t feel like eating; she should have counted flies to the window - and even then she was tired. She sits, miserable, and cries and complains about everyone that she is bored, as if others are to blame. Meanwhile, the Needlewoman returns, strains the water, pours it into jugs; and what an entertainer: if the water is unclean, he will roll up a sheet of paper, put coals in it and pour coarse sand, insert that paper into a jug and pour water into it, and water, you know, passes through the sand and through the coals and drops into the jug is clean, like crystal; and then the Needlewoman will begin to knit stockings or cut scarves, or even sew shirts and cut them, and even drag out a needlework song; and she was never bored, because there was no time for her to be bored either: now on this, now on another task, and here, you see, the evening - the day has passed.
Once, a misfortune happened to the Needlewoman: she went to the well for water, lowered the bucket on the rope, and the rope broke; the bucket fell into the well. How to be here?
The poor needlewoman burst into tears and went to the nanny to tell about her misfortune and misfortune; and nanny Praskovya was so strict and angry, she said:
- She made the trouble herself, and correct it herself; she drowned the bucket herself, and get it herself.
There was nothing to do: the poor Needlewoman again went to the well, grabbed the rope and went down it to the very bottom. Only then a miracle happened to her. As soon as she got down, she looked: there was a stove in front of her, and in the stove there was a pie, so ruddy, fried; sits, looks and says:
- I'm quite ready, browned, fried with sugar and raisins; whoever takes me out of the oven will go with me!
The needlewoman, without any hesitation, grabbed a spatula, took out a pie and put it in her bosom. She goes further.
There is a garden in front of her, and in the garden there is a tree, and golden apples on the tree; apples move their leaves and say among themselves:
The needlewoman went up to the tree, shook it by the branch, and the golden apples fell down into her apron.
The needlewoman moves on. She looks: in front of her sits an old man Moroz Ivanovich, gray-haired; he sits on an ice bench and eats snowballs; shakes his head - frost falls from his hair, breathes in spirit - thick steam pours out.
- BUT! - he said. - Hello, Needlewoman! Thank you for bringing me a pie; I haven't eaten anything hot in a long time.
Then he sat the Needlewoman next to him, and they had breakfast together with a pie, and ate golden apples.
“I know why you came,” says Moroz Ivanovich, “you dropped a bucket into my student; I’ll give you a bucket, only you serve me for three days; you will be smart, you are better off; If you're lazy, it's worse for you. And now, - added Moroz Ivanovich, - it's time for me, the old man, to rest; go and make my bed, and see if you fluff the feather bed well.
The needlewoman obeyed. They went to the house. Moroz Ivanovich's house was made entirely of ice: the doors, the windows, and the floor were icy, and the walls were decorated with snow stars; the sun shone on them, and everything in the house shone like diamonds. On Moroz Ivanovich's bed, instead of a feather bed, lay fluffy snow; cold and there was nothing to do.
The needlewoman began to beat the snow so that the old man could sleep softer, but meanwhile her poor hands ossified and her fingers turned white, like those of poor people, who rinse their linen in the hole in winter: it’s cold, and the wind in the face, and the linen freezes, stake it costs, but there is nothing to do - poor people work.
- Nothing, - said Moroz Ivanovich, - just rub your fingers with snow, and they will go away, you won’t get chills. I'm a kind old man; look at my curiosities. Then he lifted his snowy featherbed with a blanket, and the Needlewoman saw that green grass was breaking through under the featherbed. The needlewoman felt sorry for the poor weed.
“So you say,” she said, “that you are a kind old man, but why do you keep green grass under a snowy feather bed, don’t let it out into the light of day?”
- I don’t release it because it’s not time yet; The grass hasn't come into play yet. In the autumn, the peasants sowed it, and it sprouted, and if it had already stretched out, then winter would have captured it, and by the summer the grass would not have ripened. So I covered the young greenery with my snowy feather bed, and even lay down on it myself so that the snow would not be blown away by the wind; but then spring will come, the snowy feather bed will melt, the grass will begin to grow, and there, you look, the grain will look out, and the peasant will collect the grain and take it to the mill; the miller will sweep away the grain, and there will be flour, and from the flour you, Needlewoman, will bake bread.
“Well, tell me, Moroz Ivanovich,” said the Needlewoman, “why are you sitting in the well?”
“Then I’m sitting in the well, that spring is coming,” said Moroz Ivanovich, “it’s getting hot for me; and you know that even in the summer it is cold in the well, that is why the water in the well is cold, even in the middle of the hottest summer.
“And why are you, Moroz Ivanovich,” asked the Needlewoman, “in winter you walk the streets and knock on the windows?”
- And then I knock on the windows, - answered Moroz Ivanovich, - so that they do not forget to heat the stoves and close the pipes in time; otherwise, I know, there are such sluts that they will heat the stove, they will heat it, but they will not close the chimney, or they will close it, but at the wrong time, when not all the coals have burned out, and that’s why it happens in the upper room, the head is people hurt, green in the eyes; You can even die of fumes completely. And then I also knock on the window so that no one forgets that there are people in the world who are cold in winter, who do not have a fur coat, and there is nothing to buy firewood; then I knock on the window so that they don’t forget to help them. Here the kind Moroz Ivanovich stroked the Needlewoman on the head and lay down to rest on his snowy bed.
The needlewoman, meanwhile, cleaned up everything in the house, went into the kitchen, cooked the food, mended the old man's dress and darned the linen.
The old man woke up; was very pleased with everything and thanked the Needlewoman. Then they sat down to dine; the dinner was excellent, and the ice-cream that the old man made himself was especially good.
Frost Ivanovich poured silver patches into a bucket for the needlewoman. So the Needlewoman lived with Moroz Ivanovich for three whole days.
On the third day, Moroz Ivanovich said to the Needlewoman: “Thank you, you are a smart girl, you have comforted me, an old man, and I will not remain in your debt. You know: people get money for needlework, so here's your bucket for you, and I poured a whole handful of silver patches into the bucket; and besides, here's a diamond for you to remember - to stab a scarf. The needlewoman thanked, pinned the diamond, took the bucket, went back to the well, grabbed the rope and went out into the light of day.
As soon as she began to approach the house, like a rooster, which she always fed, seeing her, he was delighted, flew up to the fence and shouted:
Crow-crow!
The Needlewoman has nickels in a bucket!
When the Needlewoman came home and told everything that had happened to her, the nanny was very surprised, and then she said: - You see, Sloth, what people get for needlework!
Go to the old man and serve him, work; clean his room, cook in the kitchen, mend the dress and darn the linen, and you will earn a handful of nickels, but it will come in handy: we don’t have enough money for the holiday.
It was very distasteful for Sloth to go to work with the old man. But she wanted to get a nickel and a diamond pin too.
Here, following the example of the Needlewoman, Sloth went to the well, grabbed the rope and bang right to the bottom. The stove looks in front of her, and in the stove sits a pie, so ruddy, fried; sits, looks and says:
- I'm quite ready, browned, fried with sugar and raisins; whoever takes me will go with me.
And Sloth answered him:
- Yes, no matter how! I have to tire myself - to raise a spatula and reach into the stove; if you want, you can jump out.
She goes further, in front of her is a garden, and in the garden there is a tree, and golden apples on the tree; apples move their leaves and say among themselves:
- We are liquid apples, ripe; they ate the root of the tree, washed themselves with icy dew; whoever shakes us from the tree will take us for himself.
- Yes, no matter how! - answered Sloth. - I have to tire myself - raise my hands, pull the branches ... I will have time to score, as they themselves attack!
And Sloth passed by them. So she came to Moroz Ivanovich. The old man was still sitting on the icy bench and biting the snowballs.
"What do you want, girl?" - he asked.
“I came to you,” Sloth answered, “to serve and get a job.
“You said sensibly, girl,” answered the old man, “money follows for the work, just let's see what else your work will be. Go ahead, fluff up my featherbed, and then prepare the food, but mend my dress, and darn my linen.
Lenivitsa went, and on the way she thinks:
“I’ll tire myself out and chill my fingers! Perhaps the old man will not notice and will fall asleep on an unwhipped feather bed.
The old man really did not notice, or pretended not to notice, went to bed and fell asleep, and Sloth went into the kitchen. She came to the kitchen and did not know what to do. She loved to eat, but it never occurred to her to think about how the food was prepared; and she was too lazy to look. So she looked around: in front of her lies greens, and meat, and fish, and vinegar, and mustard, and kvass - everything in order. She thought, she thought, somehow she cleaned the greens, cut the meat and fish, and so as not to give herself much work, as everything was washed, unwashed, she put it in a saucepan: greens, and meat, and fish, and mustard, and vinegar and added kvass, but she herself thinks:
“Why bother to cook each thing separately? After all, everything will be together in the stomach.
Here the old man woke up, asks for dinner. Sloth brought him a pot as it is, she didn’t even spread the tablecloths.
Moroz Ivanovich tried it, grimaced, and the sand crunched on his teeth. "You're good at cooking," he remarked smiling. Let's see what your other job will be.
Sloth tasted it, and immediately spat it out, and the old man groaned, groaned, and began to cook the food himself and made dinner well, so that Sloth licked her fingers, eating someone else's cooking.
After dinner the old man lay down to rest again, and reminded Lenivitsa that his dress had not been mended and his underwear had not been darned.
The sloth pouted, but there was nothing to do: she began to sort out her dress and linen; Yes, and here is the trouble: Sloth sewed clothes and linen, but how they sew it, she didn’t ask about it; she took a needle, but out of habit she pricked herself; so she threw it away. And the old man again seemed not to notice anything, he called Sloth to dinner and even put her to bed.
And Lenivitsa is happy; thinks to himself:
“Maybe it will pass. It was free for the sister to take on the work; kind old man, he will give me piglets for free.
On the third day, Lenivitsa comes and asks Moroz Ivanovich to let her go home and reward her for her work.
- What was your job? the old man asked. “If it’s true, then you must pay me, because you didn’t work for me, but I served you.”
— Yes, how! - answered Sloth. - I lived with you for three whole days. “You know, my dear,” answered the old man, “what I’ll tell you: to live and serve is a difference, and work and work are different; notice this: it will come in handy ahead. But, however, if your conscience does not look down, I will reward you: and what is your work, such will be your reward.
With these words, Moroz Ivanovich gave Lenivitsa a large silver ingot, and in his other hand a large diamond. The sloth was so happy about this that she grabbed both and, without even thanking the old man, ran home.
Come home and brag.
“Here,” he says, “what I have earned; not a couple of sisters, not a handful of patches and not a small diamond, but a whole silver ingot, you see, how heavy, and the diamond is almost the size of a fist ... You can buy a new one for the holiday ...
Before she had time to finish, the silver ingot melted and poured onto the floor; he was nothing but quicksilver, which had hardened from the intense cold; at the same time the diamond began to melt. And the rooster jumped on the fence and cried loudly:
Cuckoo-Cuckoo,
Sloth has an ice icicle in her hands!
And you, kids, think, guess what is true here, what is not true; what is said really, what is said by the side; either for fun or for instruction.
We don’t get anything for free, without labor, -
It is not for nothing that the proverb has been carried on from time immemorial.
Two girls lived in the same house: the Needlewoman and Lenivitsa, and with them a nanny. The needlewoman was a smart girl, she got up early, dressed herself without a nanny, and getting out of bed, she got down to business: she stoked the stove, kneaded bread, chalked the hut, fed the rooster, and then went to the well for water. Meanwhile, Sloth lay in bed; they have been ringing for mass for a long time, but she is still stretching: she rolls over from side to side; Is it really boring to lie down, so waking up will say: “Nanny, put on my stockings, nanny, tie my shoes”; and then he will say: “Nanny, is there a bun?” He gets up, jumps, and sits by the window of flies to count how many have arrived and how many have flown away. As Sloth counts everyone, he doesn’t know what to start and what to do; she would go to bed - but she does not want to sleep; she would like to eat - but she does not want to eat; she should have counted flies to the window - and even then she was tired; she sits miserable and cries and complains to everyone that she is bored, as if others are to blame.
Meanwhile, the Needlewoman returns, strains the water, pours it into jugs; and what an entertainer: if the water is unclean, he will roll up a sheet of paper, put coals in it and pour coarse sand, insert that paper into a jug and pour water into it, but you know the water passes through the sand and through the coals and drips into the jug clean like crystal; and then the Needlewoman will begin to knit stockings or cut scarves, or even sew shirts and cut them, and even drag out a needlework song; and she was never bored, because she had no time to be bored either: now on this, now on another business, here, you look, and the evening - the day has passed.
Once a misfortune happened to the Needlewoman: she went to the well for water, lowered the bucket on the rope, and the rope broke, the bucket fell into the well. How to be here? The poor needlewoman burst into tears and went to the nanny to tell about her misfortune and misfortune, and nanny Praskovya was so strict and angry, she said:
- You yourself made the trouble, and correct it yourself. She drowned the bucket herself, and get it herself.
There was nothing to do; the poor Needlewoman went again to the well, grabbed the rope and went down it to the very bottom.
Only then a miracle happened to her. As soon as she went downstairs, she looked: there was a stove in front of her, and a pie was sitting in the stove, so ruddy, fried; sits, looks and says:
- I'm quite ready, browned, fried with sugar and raisins; whoever takes me out of the oven will go with me.
The needlewoman, without any hesitation, grabbed a spatula, took out a pie and put it in her bosom.
- We, apples, liquid, ripe, ate the root of the tree, washed ourselves with icy water; whoever shakes us from the tree will take us for himself.
The needlewoman went up to the tree, shook it by the branch, and the golden apples fell down into her apron.
- BUT! - he said, - great, Needlewoman; thank you for bringing me a pie: for a long time I haven’t eaten anything hot.
Then he sat the Needlewoman next to him, and they had breakfast together with a pie, and ate golden apples.
“I know why you came,” Moroz Ivanovich said, “you dropped a bucket into my student; I’ll give you a bucket, only you serve me for three days; you will be smart, you are better off; If you're lazy, it's worse for you. And now, - added Moroz Ivanovich, - it's time for me, the old man, to rest; go and make my bed, and see if you fluff the feather bed well.
The needlewoman obeyed ... They went into the house. Moroz Ivanovich's house was made of ice: the doors, the windows, and the floor were icy, and the walls were decorated with snow stars; the sun shone on them, and everything in the house shone like diamonds. On Moroz Ivanovich's bed, instead of a feather bed, lay fluffy snow; cold and there was nothing to do. The needlewoman began to whip up the snow so that the old man could sleep softer, but meanwhile, her hands, poor, were ossified and her fingers turned white, like those of poor people, who rinse their clothes in the ice-hole in winter; and it’s cold, and the wind is in your face, and the laundry freezes, it costs a stake, but there’s nothing to do - poor people work.
- Nothing, - said Moroz Ivanovich, - just rub your fingers with snow, and they will go away, you won’t get a chill. I'm a kind old man; look at my curiosities.
Then he lifted his snowy featherbed with a blanket, and the Needlewoman saw that green grass was breaking through under the featherbed. The needlewoman felt sorry for the poor weed.
“So you say,” she said, “that you are a kind old man, but why do you keep green grass under a snowy feather bed, do not let it out into the light of God?”
- I don’t release it, because it’s not time yet; The grass hasn't come into play yet. A kind peasant sowed it in the fall, and it sprouted, and if it had stretched out, then winter would have captured it and the grass would not have ripened by summer. Here I am, - continued Moroz Ivanovich, - and covered the young greenery with my snowy feather bed, and even lay down on it myself so that the snow would not be blown away by the wind, but spring will come, the snowy feather bed will melt, the grass will sprout, and there, you look, the grain will look out , and the peasant will collect the grain and take it to the mill; the miller will sweep away the grain, and there will be flour, and from the flour you, Needlewoman, will bake bread.
“Well, tell me, Moroz Ivanovich,” said the Needlewoman, “why are you sitting in the well?”
- Then I sit in the well, that spring is coming, - said Moroz Ivanovich. - I get hot; and you know that it is cold in the well in the summer, that's why the water in the well is cold, even in the middle of the hottest summer.
- And why do you, Moroz Ivanovich, - asked the Needlewoman, - in winter you walk through the streets and knock on the windows?
“And then I knock on the windows,” answered Moroz Ivanovich, “so that they don’t forget to heat the stoves and close the pipes in time; otherwise, because I know there are such sluts that they will heat the stove, but they will not close the pipe or they will close it, but at the wrong time, when not all the coals have burned out, and because of this, carbon monoxide happens in the upper room, people’s heads hurt, green in the eyes; You can even die of fumes completely. And then I also knock on the window so that people do not forget that they are sitting in a warm room or putting on a warm fur coat, and that there are beggars in the world who are cold in winter, who do not have a fur coat, and there is nothing to buy firewood; then I knock on the window so that people do not forget to help the poor.
Here the kind Moroz Ivanovich stroked the Needlewoman on the head and lay down to rest on his snowy bed.
Meanwhile, the needlewoman cleaned up everything in the house, went to the kitchen, cooked the food, mended the old man's dress, and darned the linen.
The old man woke up; was very pleased with everything and thanked the Needlewoman. Then they sat down to dine; the table was fine, and the ice-cream that the old man made himself was especially good.
So the Needlewoman lived with Moroz Ivanovich for three whole days.
On the third day, Moroz Ivanovich said to the needlewoman:
- Thank you, you smart girl; Well, you comforted the old man, but I will not remain in your debt. You know: people get money for needlework, so here's your bucket for you, and I poured a whole handful of silver patches into the bucket; Yes, moreover, here is a diamond for you, as a keepsake - to stab a scarf.
The needlewoman thanked, pinned a diamond, took a bucket, went back to the well, grabbed the rope and went out into the light of day.
As soon as she began to approach the house, like a rooster, which she always fed, saw her, was delighted, flew up to the fence and shouted:
Kukureku? cuckoo?!
The Needlewoman has nickels in a bucket!
When the Needlewoman came home and told everything that had happened to her, the nanny was very surprised, and then said:
- You see, Sloth, what people get for needlework. Go to the old man and serve him, work: clean his room, cook in the kitchen, mend the dress and darn the linen, and you will earn a handful of nickels, but it will come in handy: we don’t have enough money for the holiday.
It was very distasteful for Sloth to go to work with the old man. But she wanted to get a nickel and a diamond pin too.
Here, following the example of the Needlewoman, Sloth went to the well, grabbed the rope, and bang right to the bottom.
She looks: and in front of her is a stove, and in the stove sits such a ruddy, fried pie; sits, looks and says:
- I'm quite ready, browned, fried with sugar and raisins; whoever takes me, he will go with me!
And Sloth answered him:
- Yes, how could it not! I have to tire myself, raise a shovel and reach into the stove; if you want, you can jump out.
- We, apples, liquid, ripe; we feed on the root of the tree, we wash ourselves with icy dew; whoever shakes us from the tree will take us for himself.
- Yes, no matter how! - answered Sloth, - I have to tire myself, raise my hands, pull the branches, I will have time to score, as they themselves fall!
And Sloth passed by them. So she came to Moroz Ivanovich. The old man was still sitting on the icy bench and biting the snowballs.
"What do you want, girl?" - he asked.
“I came to you,” Sloth answered, “to serve and get a job.
“You said sensibly, girl,” answered the old man, “money follows for the work; Let's just see what else your work will be. Go ahead, fluff up my featherbed, and then prepare the food, but mend my dress, and darn my linen.
Lenivitsa went, and on the way she thinks:
“I’ll tire myself out and chill my fingers! Perhaps the old man won’t notice and will fall asleep on an unwhipped feather bed.”
The old man really did not notice, or pretended not to notice, went to bed and fell asleep, and Sloth went into the kitchen.
Came to the kitchen, and did not know what to do. She loved to eat, but it never occurred to her to think about how the food was prepared; and she was too lazy to look.
So she looked around: in front of her lies greens, and meat, and fish, and vinegar, and mustard, and kvass, everything in order. So she thought, thought, somehow she cleaned the greens, cut the meat and fish, and so as not to give herself much work, then, as everything was, washed or unwashed, she put it in the pan: greens, and meat, and fish, she poured mustard, vinegar, and even kvass, and she herself thinks: “Why bother to cook each thing separately? After all, everything will be together in the stomach.”
Here the old man woke up, asks for dinner. Sloth brought him a pot as it is, she didn’t even spread the tablecloths. Moroz Ivanovich tried it, grimaced, and the sand crunched on his teeth.
"You're good at cooking," he remarked, smiling. Let's see what your other job will be.
The sloth tasted, and immediately spat out, indo she vomited; and the old man groaned, groaned, and began to cook the food himself and made dinner a success, so that Sloth licked her fingers, eating someone else's cooking.
After dinner the old man lay down to rest again, and reminded Lenivitsa that his dress had not been mended and his underwear had not been darned.
The sloth pouted, but there was nothing to do: she began to sort out her dress and linen; Yes, and here is the trouble: Sloth sewed clothes and linen, but how they sew it, she didn’t ask about it; she took a needle, but out of habit she pricked herself; so she threw it away.
And the old man again seemed not to notice anything, he called Sloth to dinner and even put her to bed.
And Lenivitsa is a pleasure; thinks to himself:
"Perhaps it will pass anyway. It was free for the sister to take on the work: the good old man, he will give me five nickels for nothing."
On the third day, Lenivitsa comes and asks Moroz Ivanovich to let her go home and reward her for her work.
- What was your job? the old man asked. “If it came to the truth, then you must pay me, because you didn’t work for me, but I served you.”
- Yes, how! - answered Sloth, - I lived with you for three whole days.
“You know, my dear,” answered the old man, “what I’ll tell you: there is a difference between living and serving, and work and work are different. Note this: it will come in handy ahead. But, however, if your conscience does not look down, I will reward you: and what is your work, such will be your reward.
With these words, Moroz Ivanovich gave Lenivitsa a large silver ingot, and in his other hand a large diamond. The sloth was so happy about this that she grabbed both and, without even thanking the old man, ran home.
Came home and boasts:
“Here,” he says, “what I earned: not for my sister, not a handful of patches and not a small diamond, but a whole silver ingot, you see what a heavy one, and the diamond is almost the size of a fist ... You can buy a new one for the holiday …
Before she had time to finish, the silver ingot melted and poured onto the floor; he was none other than quicksilver, which had hardened from the intense cold; at the same time the diamond began to melt, and the rooster jumped up on the fence and cried loudly:
Kukureku? cuckoo?
Lenivitsa has an ice icicle in her hands.
And you, kids, think, guess: what is true here, what is not true; what is said really, what is said by the side; what is for fun, what is in instruction, and what is a hint. And then realize that not every work and goodness is rewarded; but there is a reward inadvertently, because labor and goodness are good in themselves and are suitable for any business; that's the way it is arranged by God. Do not leave only someone else's good and labor without a reward, but in the meantime, the reward from you is learning and obedience.
