Don't cut the branch you're sitting on. (A proverb is said when a person himself, by his actions or words, can harm himself.)
Not salty slurping. (The proverb means "to be left with nothing", "not to get what you wanted or expected.")
Don't rush with your tongue, hurry with your deeds. (Don't talk or brag about anything ahead of time. Do the deed first, and then talk about what you did.)
Do not pick unripe fruits: they will ripen - they themselves will fall. (Georgian proverb. It means that in any business there is no need to artificially rush things or rush, you need to do everything on time.)
Not the happiness of man, but man creates happiness. (Polish proverb. Means: in order to achieve what you want, you need to make efforts, by your actions you need to bring “your happiness” closer, it will not come by itself.)
It's not clean where they sweep, but where they don't litter. (A simple and at the same time very wise proverb means that in a cultural, developed society smart people always clean and tidy, life is more comfortable and joyful.)
Not the rank is respected, but the person in his truth. (Belarusian proverb. Means: a person is judged by his mind, knowledge and deeds. If a person is honest, kind, helps others, then such a person will always be respected and revered by others. Hardly anyone will trust a liar, a deceiver and a greedy person in life, even if he is rich or powerful.)
The enemy agrees, the friend argues. (A proverb means: a person who is indifferent to you will always agree with you and will say what you want to hear, and not as it really is. And only a true friend for whom you are important will tell the truth, say no, you won’t he is right, he will tell you how it really is.A friend argues with you so that you are better, so that you understand something important better, so that you see the real picture.)
There is no forest without a wolf, there is no village without a villain. (The proverb means that among people there are not only good ones, there are always bad ones, this is how nature works.)
You will never make a mistake - you will not achieve anything. (Spanish proverb. Means that a person learns from mistakes. His mistakes, which a person understood and corrected, give invaluable life experience and results.)
At night all cats are gray . (German proverb. IN dark time days, human eyes any color appears gray. The proverb is said in a situation where it is very difficult to find something you need or someone you need, because of the sameness.)
Needed like a dog's fifth leg. (A saying means superfluous, unnecessary, interfering.)
The promised three years are waiting. (Russian folk proverb. It means that very often a person promises something, but almost always forgets about his promise. Therefore, if you were promised something, it is very likely that the promise will not be kept.)
Burnt in milk, it blows on water. (Russian proverb. Means that the one who made a mistake or failed becomes cautious and prudent in all matters, because he is afraid to make a mistake again and repeat the "bitter experience".)
Oats don't follow the horse. (Russian folk proverb. It means that if a horse wants to eat, it goes to oats, and not vice versa. So in life, efforts should be made by the one who needs it. You don’t need to do anything for others if you are not asked about it. And if they ask, then you yourself decide whether to do it or not.)
A sheep without an udder is a ram. (folk proverb, they talk about a person who has no education and is not an expert in anything.)
There is safety in numbers. (Russian folk proverb. It means that when people help each other, it is easier for them to cope with a business, enemy or difficulty than alone. One person without the help of friends, comrades and just good people rarely succeeds. Make reliable friends and always help people if you are asked, and you have the opportunity to help.)
One leg steals, the other guards. (The proverb is said when one leg is tucked into the boot and the other over the boot.)
Discussion: 74 comments
EITHER DON'T LIE, IT'S NOT GOOD
what is the meaning? help me pleaseAnswer
Science is the sea, knowledge is a boat in its expanse
Answer
Hermione Granger raised her hand and said doubtfully:
Five galleons.
In response they angrily murmured:
Sorry? Miss Granger, is this a joke?
Percy Weasley was worried. He had a bad feeling, he began to suck in the pit of his stomach. To try to nip the conflict in the bud, he cleared his throat and said firmly:
Silence! I want to remind you that the prisoners are deprived of the right to vote. Miss, did you say "five galleons"?
Hermione nodded to the wizard auctioneer in agreement.
Before Percy could continue, the prisoner rebelled again.
Five Galleons for a Certified Potions Master? With my experience? Are you out of your mind?! Any idiot will give at least a few hundred. A smarter person will add at least one zero to this!
Severus Snape was angry. Hermione looked at him, smiling out of the corner of her mouth and raising an eyebrow, so much like him.
Both were well aware that this was just a staged act to protect him from the Death Eaters who had eluded the Aurors after Voldemort's fall. Him along with former comrades sold as a slave at auction in favor of military orphans. Granger will win the auction and save him. He must not be allowed to fall into the wrong hands and risk his life!
Both knew full well that she would use this to get revenge. By the way, he was somewhat rude, humiliating her in front of everyone at the meeting of the Order. He had to admit that she was no longer as unpleasant as when she was a student; Recently, they even managed to talk enthusiastically. But he couldn't help his usual sarcasm when he noticed what full of love she glances at him, thinking that he does not see. He winced at the memory. No, that was far worse than his usual sarcasm. That day he outdid himself. In front of everyone.
However, there is no question that such an insult can be tolerated!
Hermione continued, looking at Percy. He began to sweat, puzzling over how to avoid disaster. It was he who was the ministerial official who was responsible for everything here. It was he who was responsible for the profitability of the trades. It was he who was responsible for the normal conduct of the auction. And it was his job that would be at stake if he failed to maintain even a semblance of order in what was slowly but surely approaching war between two members of the Order.
Five galleons! And this is a generous offer. Otherwise, you yourself will have to pay extra to be released!
Miss Granger! This attitude is outrageous! You can not…
Do you see, Commissioner? With such a disgusting character, no one will buy it! You can try to push him to Baba Yaga for nothing, but I'm not sure that even she will want to mess with him. He could try to train her in his business.
Silence, please, or I will end the auction!
Percy's intervention did not bring desired result. Snickers appeared on the faces of the handcuffed Death Eaters who stood on the dais, side by side with Severus. The wizard was outraged. He was determined not to give in to the insufferable witch. With an almost carnivorous smile, he struck back, trying to hit as hard as he could.
Don't try to fool anyone, Miss Granger. Everyone here already understood that your pathetic attempts to pass off the purchase of me as an act of mercy - just a way to hide your penchant for masochism. And stinginess.
Percy Weasley tried to intervene immediately, but his mutterings were drowned out by Hermione's indignant scream and chuckles in the audience. His onyx eyes gleamed as he managed to piss off Hermione Granger and win. Great!
How dare you? How can you even for a second assume that you are able to interest me, with such an appearance? This is… This is…
Admit you like it, Miss Granger. To be punished by your hated teacher. Is this what you want? Play teacher and naughty student? Working off? Or maybe spanking? All you have to do is ask, miss! You know, don't be shy about your fantasies.
Waiting for his turn, Lucius Malfoy could not hide his triumph at the humiliation of the Mudblood.
Hermione couldn't contain her anger anymore. This man had publicly humiliated her twice already! How could she be seduced by his mystique and intellect?
Go to hell! You're disgusting! Real…
Disgusting? Maybe. But I turn you on. I noticed how during the lessons you looked at my hands. You weren't very careful. And besides, you just proposed, Miss Granger. It's too late to deny anything... After all, no one wants to mess with a greasy-haired bat. If no one buys, I'm yours, Miss Granger.
Hermione tore her hair out. Snape, standing in handcuffs, looked haughtily at his fingernails. In the end, the day is beautiful, and for such knowledge anyone will buy it. He is not going to stop there. Waking up, he said, as if in thought:
But I must say you have good taste. In bed I am a god.
In response to this statement, some of the audience gave him mocking looks, some - a little upset by this very much. a clear exaggeration. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lucius Malfoy chuckle.
Isn't that right, Narcissa?
Lucius turned to his wife, choking. She tried to keep a mask of cold calmness. Despite all her commendable efforts, Lady Malfoy's cheeks still flushed slightly. With a snarl, Lucius lunged at Severus, who, looking deeply bored, didn't even move.
It took three Aurors to get the older Malfoy out.
Interest lit up in the eyes of the public. Could it be that Severus Snape, the sarcastic bastard, was a real find not to be missed?
Do you remember, dear Cissa, that evening with Lilith and Jocasta? Or was it Violetta?
Severus was jubilant as he watched Narcissa thrash about, her eyes boring into the floor. She seemed more like a taken aback girl than a prim aristocrat.
Here again the Aurors had to intervene: Nott threw himself on his wife, who was sitting in the hall, and began to strangle her.
Avery also had to be quiet. Lilith Avery did not look at her husband. Standing on the platform, she hovered in memories. At first, simply surprised, her husband soon became furious, receiving only a blissful smile in response to any question.
This smile caused a commotion in the hall. Especially when everyone clearly heard Jocasta Nott raising her voice to the point that her husband's sexual abilities were nothing compared to Severus's, that she had never had an orgasm and that she was asking for a divorce.
In an unsuccessful attempt to restore order, Percy furiously pounded on the table with his hammer.
Hermione fell into a vengeful silence, clenching her jaw and closing her eyes. Severus didn't care about Percy Weasley, but he didn't think Hermione would get off lightly.
Of course you couldn't have known about it, Miss Granger. But wait... Didn't little Parkinson share her little secrets outside of the Slytherin common room?
Lord Parkinson approached the edge of the platform, searching the crowd for his daughter's face. She tried to make herself invisible by sliding down from her chair, but by doing so only attracted the attention of the sorceresses sitting nearby. When they asked if Snape was as good as they say, she could only nod, blushing terribly.
And then hell broke loose. Lord Parkinson noticed Pansy. Her fault was, as they say, on her face: burning cheeks, downcast eyes. The father began to scold Pansy for behavior unworthy of a decent witch.
The sorceress neighbor Pansy jumped up and shouted:
Fifty Galleons for Snape!
Lord Parkinson cursed, fought back, kicked the Aurors who tried to restrain him. Suddenly he pressed his hand to his chest and began to choke. He was immediately taken to the on-duty witch doctor.
The roof was blown off the stakes.
Two hundred and fifty!
Five hundred!
Eight hundred!
The sorceresses stood, shouting and pushing.
Thousand! Let me go, crazy!
One thousand two hundred! I saw him first!
He is mine! One thousand five hundred!
No it's mine!
The spells flew. In the middle of the battlefield, Hermione Granger still sat, Severus Snape grinned, and Percy Weasley tried in vain to get everyone out, contemplating a transfer to another job in a distant country.
The fireplace glowed green. Percy knelt down, nodded, and straightened up, looking somewhat emboldened. Using sonorus, he said:
Flying powder offer: five thousand Galleons for Severus Snape! Sales! Auction ended for today! Leave the hall!
He ordered two Aurors to lead Snape out through the fireplace while he directed the onlookers to the exit.
Severus stepped into Albus Dumbledore's office and dusted off his robes. He was still smiling as he lifted his head and found himself face to face with several members of the Order.
Ah, thanks, Albus. I have to say, it was getting a little noisy in there. You know, you shouldn't have given this task to Miss Granger. She doesn't have that scope.
The Headmaster sent the Aurors away and looked at him with a shamefaced smile.
Severus, first of all I have to clarify a little detail. You see, you were bought together. It took one powerful blow to stop the auction. And you know about the sad state of the finances of the Order.
Sensing a trick, Snape swallowed. Even less did he like the sparkle in Dumbledore's eyes.
We didn't know about your... special... talents, my boy. Minerva came in when that Madame Nott was screaming like that. It was she who came up with the idea to use the general cash register for your purchase. Here, um... Here, Severus, I present your new happy owners.
WITH big smile Albus named all the women gathered at the door. Minerva, Tonks, Luna Lovegood, Ginny Weasley and even… Molly? Why are they looking at him like that?
And the ladies kept coming. Why weren't the handcuffs removed from him? Vector and a few seventh years from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, Poppy, a bunch of girls from his own house. He recoiled when he saw the next one. Pomona Sprout!
Snape groaned as he felt a wild headache.
Sybille Trelawney came running foaming at the mouth and was the fatal blow. Severus Snape showed courage and bravely fainted.
DON'T CUT THE BITCH YOU SIT ON.
"All is well that ends well"
(From the school album)
On December 31, New Year's Eve 1964, I spent from early morning in the colony from wake up to lights out. Meeting New Year one of the crucial moments in the life of the colony, when nostalgia for life in freedom overwhelms everyone. With the New Year, people pin their hopes on improving their lives. And to the sound of the Chimes, they enthusiastically raise their glasses: “Happy New Year! With new happiness!"
But in the zone there are no Chimes for you, at 22 lights out and “pleasant dreams!”
However, in each barracks there are their own “bards” and under the longing chords of the guitar it will sound: “... the new year, the old orders, our camp is surrounded by barbed wire ...”
At the watchtowers, the attention of sentries has been doubled, the duty guard has been transferred to an enhanced mode of service. The task of the guards on duty is to exclude movement between residential barracks and ensure fire safety.
In all the years of my work in the colonies, I have not met a single person, except for Vershinin, who would write poetry, but for that in every colony there were lovers of camp folklore and experts in camp songs. Of all the poets whose poems were passed from mouth to mouth, only the name of Sergei Yesenin was universally known. I have not seen any other names. Although, of course, each song, before it became the property of everyone, had an author. And the fuller the song expressed the thoughts and feelings of everyone, the more it became nameless, because it belonged to everyone.
This is how exactly the night over any camp is described. This is what is called "Night at the camp":
Night over the camp, quiet in the barracks.
There was a break. All criminals are asleep.
Only on a tower in the twilight of the night
Sentinels with weapons are standing.
And in that hut a guitar groans,
Lurking in the stillness of the night,
Pro life of crime and nightmares
He sings softly to himself.
I listened to the sound of the guitar
And my heart sank in my chest,
It's just a pity that the prison bunk
They took away all my strength.
So shut up, dear guitar,
It's hard for me without you.
In the camps my youth withered,
So why remember what happened.
The most characteristic prison psychology is boredom and melancholy. Longing for life in freedom. The time spent in prison is monotonous from day to day and, as it were, falls out of life itself:
The dirty slush of my days is pouring,
Covering the paths ahead.
And sometimes I just want to cry
Rest on the desired chest.
Each barrack has its own singers, its own storytellers who know the camp lyrics by heart and pass them on from mouth to mouth. In oral retelling, everyone adds or distorts this or that word, and this is how an immortal author appears. And only the name of Sergei Yesenin is preserved in all albums, even if Yesenin's words are distorted beyond recognition.
The most common poem is the poem letter to mother as dear person all over the world, in different options:
"Hello mother, you probably didn't know,
His beloved son,
You accompanied me as a young man,
And now you meet an old man ... "
Or:
Hello honey native mother,
I hug and kiss you hard.
Maybe it's too late to kiss
I won't let you live...
Or more:
Hello, hello tired mother.
Hugs and kisses hard
Maybe it's too late to hug,
Kiss you, mother, live.
He wrote a letter to his mother and Vershinin, which he forwarded to me:
In Rostov mother.
Well, hello, dear old lady,
"My decrepit dove."
Once a nanny, so here is Pushkin,
I wrote poetry, I write too.
Oh, how much grief you are with me
You sip without drinking the cup.
And I'm not worth it
I offended you in many ways.
But it's still indifferent
You look back at me.
And again you cook, sew and dry,
"The fate of some kind of wedge"
And again long road
With a heavy bag on my shoulder.
And again the view of the fence is strict
And the looks, the looks of the screeners.
I know maternal feeling
You would caress them all...
Oh how cruel we are sometimes
Not understanding soul world,
We blame people, the order is strict,
Are you yourself, are you good?
No. Because we are open
We cannot blame ourselves.
No. Because we are a trough
We love to drink alcohol.
No, finally, none of the distant
We will not forgive a crime,
And only a mother has the right
Forgive and hug.
Behind new year's eve there were no emergencies in the colony. If someone managed to celebrate the arrival of the new year with chifir or even more significant, then all this happened “hidden-covered”. If it wasn’t found, then it wasn’t there. For breakfast and lunch, food was prepared according to an additional ration and instead of black it was White bread.
In letters "to freedom" to relatives and friends, prisoners sent stencil New Year's greetings:
"Not to the sound of New Year's glasses,
Not under the rustle of dancing couples,
And under the howl of Pavlodar snowstorms,
I send you my New Year's gift.
This gift is not a Christmas tree toy
Not a picture from my life,
And not a verse to read quietly,
To disperse the laziness of yearning days.
And at the evening in honor of the New Year,
When the lights on the tree flare up,
Raise your glass to freedom
For brighter days to come.
And raise the second for the homeland,
For the great Soviet people,
For the path that leads us to freedom
For the dawn that lights up the sky.
Well, and the third I ask, I bequeath,
Raise a glass to people
Who suffers in captivity, wandering,
And he sees no happy days.
Who is under the sun in the steppes of Kazakhstan
He beat the channel under escort,
To whom a cruel fate is given,
Who died of thirst in the steppe.
Drink for everything: for love, for the Fatherland,
For acquaintances, relatives and friends.
Drink for the boundless joy in life,
For the expanses of wide fields.
Finally, Captain Astashov went to work and took up his duties as head of the colony. The burden of responsibility was lifted from my shoulders, but along with a sense of relief, I felt regret at the loss of the ability to make my own decisions.
But now I have more time to go about my own business and pay more attention to household chores, which, of course, pleased Galya. Caring for children is our main concern with Galya. In the coming year, we are waiting for an extremely an important event, namely, our third child should appear in May. Who it will be, a boy or a girl, we could not know. For us it was all the same, although I wanted more of a boy. Why? Just because. Or maybe because in life it is easier for a boy to be the master of his own destiny than for a girl. Anyone can offend her. Even take me and Galya, how much she has to endure from me because of my flights, my inattention, irascibility of character, turning into rudeness, selfishness. And this despite the fact that I not only love her, but I adore her and I don’t have tea in her soul, but I behave like an elephant in china shop. All the burden in the birth of a child goes to her, and then only from the side I bake, Not a day goes by that she is not nervous about me, and because of me, and about me. And it turns out the song of life: "... they plucked a sweet berry together, I alone am a hill of berries."
January was snowy. A blizzard raged for two days in a row, two steps away it was no longer visible. A blizzard with a screech and howl twists and sweeps, closes eyes with burning snow, knocks down and does not allow breathing freely. ..
On the soul is light and joyful from the hopes for the future. Everywhere one hears: “A blizzard sweeps, for that the potatoes will be born.” Moreover, if in May it rains and there is thunder, then an agronomist will not be needed. People live in hopes for the future harvest.
After a snowfall, frosts always intensify. It didn't work out this time either. The thermometer goes off scale for minus 30 degrees and even constant winds. In such frosts, working days at the rack are activated, but the downtime itself delays the completion of construction.
Astashov and I took part in a meeting of the party committee of the Aluminstroy trust, where the Bureau of the city committee went. Everyone finds reasons to justify their sluggishness and irresponsibility. The Party Committee wants to cut the proud knot, but the main emphasis is not on improving the organization of labor, but on increasing the number of employees. That is, it follows the line least resistance. And knocks from a sick head to a healthy one.
And we have our own daily problems. Last night everyone was alerted and until dinner they were looking for a “fugitive”, who was not counted during the check. It turned out that he got so drunk that he slept for a day and, having sobered up, he came to the watch.
Trying to awaken the labor activity of the prisoners, we held general meeting prisoners. We told them about the importance of the Aluminum Plant, and they told us: “Why is the pickle liquid, only water?” In response, one means is to strengthen public control over the laying of products in the boiler so that the norm reaches everyone. In our country, as well as at the construction site, there are “objective reasons of a subjective nature”
At the reporting re-election meeting, I was elected secretary of our primary party organization and now I had to actively participate in the life of the city party organization and take part in plenary sessions city committee and various meetings.
So today I had to sit all day today at a meeting on the question “On the relationship between the USSR and the PRC. Relations with China were spoiled 6 years ago after the exposure of the personality cult of I.V. Stalin., When in Khrushchev's report, along with muddy water, a child was thrown out international arena. Among the Chinese, with all the excesses, the authority of Mao is preserved in our time.
Instead of a feeling of fraternal friendship for a century, a feeling of alienation and anxiety appeared. And all the blame for the break in fraternal relations was placed by the leadership of the Union on the Republic of China.
Sitting next to me at this meeting was my friend from the former colony, Senior Lieutenant Shalifov, who had just returned from a trip to his homeland in Tajikistan. He smelled of naphthalene and nicotine fumes. Political officer Sirota and Likhachov were also there, for whom I retained feelings of respect and reverence. Not only me, but also he was glad of our meeting. Likhachov was my mentor at the beginning of my work in the colony.
Short winter days make up for long ones winter evenings. But I still return home, usually after 9 pm. So today, upon arrival at the colony, until 11 o’clock, I dealt with those who refused to go to work. Everyone has their own reason, but construction is not waiting. Then he wrote an attestation for the head of the Shevchenko detachment. From 2 p.m., he considered the submissions of the heads of the detachments on probation early release prisoners who turn half of their sentence in the first quarter of the new year and who of them deserve this encouragement. And how is the situation with his employment after his release. At 7 pm, after dinner, I supervised the conduct of political classes for the detachments. He left the zone only after 21:00, and returned home at about 22:00 tired and devastated.
Galya met me with care and tenderness, and my fatigue was removed as if by magic. And it was worth living, and it was worth working.
By Sunday, the weather calmed down. The sky at night was bright with diamonds distant worlds. In the afternoon, a gentle sun shone in the blue sky. A slight frost invigorates. The snow crunches nicely underfoot. In the morning I went to the colony and read a lecture in the club of the zone “The USSR is a bulwark of peace and cooperation with the colonial countries”
After dinner I went to the 24th colony to see Vershinin out of a sense of duty that does not leave me. Yes, and the head Nurkenov at a meeting in the city committee asked me to have a conversation together, or he will “press” him
I, already a captain, went into the zone where I began my “Chekist” service immediately after graduating from the institute in canvas shoes and a felt student hat.
Vershinin lives in the same hut where my detachment was stationed in 1960/1961.
It is gloomy in the section, a specific smell from the accumulation of sweaty bodies and smoky mouths. I once again noted that in our 23rd colony the residential barracks are much newer and brighter and more comfortable. And the contingent is less gloomy and more mobile and energetic.
In a fenced-off room, where I once had a supply room for the supply manager of the detachment, the head of the detachment, Lepikhov, equipped his office for individual conversations and other group activities. The old floor is not painted. The office window outside was not cleared of snow after a blizzard. From the inside, the lower half of the window is covered with a piece of wallpaper, wrinkled from dampness. Obviously in order not to peep from outside. On the wall there is a paper poster with a picture: “Hello, virgin land” and the wall newspaper “Crocodile”
I asked to find Vershinin and invite him to my office.
Soon he came. He slowly crossed the threshold and closed the door behind him.
We just met. Freely, as if only yesterday we parted as comrades. They expressed no experienced joy from unexpected meeting. I was also restrained. At first, the conversation did not stick. To my questions about how you live, how you work, how you study at school, there were monosyllabic answers.
I noted that both external and internal changes took place in him. Less for recklessness and hypocrisy. Another intonation of the voice appeared. More stingy in expressing his emotions and remarks to the administration. But there was no former emancipation and frankness.
Yes, otherwise it could not be. Teacher and student, as well as between pupil and educator, there is always an invisible line that cannot be crossed. Familiarity can only be between equal friends.
This line, striving for equality, Edward shamelessly crossed. So Nikolai Ivanovich in his letter addresses him: "Hello, Eduard Vasilyevich!", And he answers him: "Hello, Kolya." And thus does not reduce, but increases the distance between himself and a person he does not know. The relationship between people in general, and even more so unfamiliar, requires mutual delicacy and respect. Every cricket know your cod. This bad manners harms him in relations with the administration, and he drives himself into a corner. I constantly inspired him that nothing is so cheap for us, and nothing is valued so dearly as politeness, and things are still there.
Along with the desire to become famous poet He expressed his desire to become an educator himself. I approve and thus support these good intentions of his, but he does not behave like one who has realized his errors and has moved from words to deeds. I told him all this again with all frankness and asked if it was really impossible to behave differently, so as not to be a talk in the tongues for the administration.
I also told him that his "discussion" with his teacher in literature also did not paint him. And that there is nothing to be proud of. Because he thinks he knows more about Lermontov than she does after five years of study at the university. He agreed with this.
Nothing can help a person if the person himself does not change his character and his attitude towards himself.
The culture of a person is his ability to use the knowledge accumulated by mankind - says the article http://www.ymuhin.ru/node/1735/ by Yuri Ignatievich Mukhin, who has a rare ability to convey an idea in a simple, understandable form.
You will now read about the history associated with the forgotten ability to grow a slender forest. Then, earlier, in the unhurried course of time, the branches of trees grown for sale were cut off from below, leaving only at the top for greater evenness of the growing trunk.
The bough you sit on.
Was at the bar big forest and brought him a considerable income. Yes, there were very inopportune riots of the mob, the workers went on strike, and under hot hand the master, but under his unkind mood, his sons had to go to work, before they did not know it - to chop boughs on young trees.
One of the sons climbed a tree, settled himself not without fear, and began to chop. It happened that a peasant from neighboring village past. He saw a boy on a tree, he said to him: "What are you doing? You are cutting the branch on which you are sitting! You will fall!" The barchonok proudly kept silent, and the grandfather had to go on, remaining at a loss. "The owner is a gentleman," thought the grandfather.
Grandfather did not have time to go any far, as the youth noisily catches up with him, and without saying a word, immediately at his feet, buried his forehead on the ground, and is silent. And only then, as if in spirit, grandfather laid out that God, by His mercy, sent him a seer, that grandfather predicted correctly about the fall, and therefore he asks him and other hidden things to reveal to him, since such a case of God's goodness is revealed to the lad.
What their conversation was about, it is not always useful to know in the faith that is not yet strong, and therefore we are silent about the hidden things of God.
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