home
Psychosomatics
Fabulous house of frost Ivanovich in Odoevsky.

Fabulous house of frost Ivanovich in Odoevsky.

19.04.2019

Page 1 of 4

Moroz Ivanovich

In the same house lived two girls, 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:
- 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 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 the old man Moroz Ivanovich,

gray-haired; he sits on an ice bench and eats snowballs; shakes his head - frost falls from his hair, he breathes in spirit - thick steam pours out. - A! - 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.

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, 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:

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 am 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.

A! - 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.

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 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 sit in the well, that spring is coming, - said Moroz Ivanovich, - it becomes 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 good Frost 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, 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 am 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.

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.

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 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:

“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.

So 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, 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; 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.

Meanwhile, do not forget old grandfather Iriney, but he has prepared many stories for you; just give the old man about spring with strength and health to gather.

Read the plot of the fairy tale Moroz Ivanovich

The main characters of the work are girls, named by the writer Needlewoman and Sloth.

A girl named Needlewoman is described as a hardworking, industrious girl who performs any homework. In contrast to her, Lenivitsa, apart from lying on the bed, eating, does nothing in life, and out of boredom she amuses herself by counting flies on the window.

Once the Needlewoman, having gone to fetch water, accidentally drops a bucket into the well and, at the insistence of the nanny, goes to get it. Having descended to the bottom of the well, the Needlewoman sees a stove in front of her, in which there is a pie. The girl, using a spatula, takes a fragrant pie out of the oven and goes on, looking for the lost bucket. On the way, the Needlewoman meets an apple tree with fruits in the form of golden apples, the girl harvests, pouring a whole hem of ripe apples.

Three days with Moroz Ivanovich fly by unnoticed by the Needlewoman, as she spends them in household chores, cooking Tasty dinner, cleaning the house, darning linen and whipping Moroz Ivanovich's feather bed. For conscientious work, Moroz Ivanovich rewards the girl with expensive gifts in the form of silver coins and a diamond stone.

Seeing the Needlewoman returning home with gifts, Lenivitsa envies her and also decides to go to Moroz Ivanovich for rich gifts. Having descended into the well, Lenivitsa follows the same route as the Needlewoman, however, due to unbridled laziness, she does not take the pie out of the oven, does not collect golden apples, and spends three days with Moroz Ivanovich in complete idleness. After the expiration of the term, Moroz Ivanovich hands Lenivitsa an ingot of silver and a large gem, which, upon the girl's return home, melt from the warm air, turning into a puddle of mercury and an ordinary icicle.

The moral of the writer's fairy tale concludes that without the application of one's own efforts and labor it is impossible to obtain the cherished result and achieve the goals set for oneself. life purpose. You need to be kind and honest, and go to your goal in spite of the obstacles.

Some interesting stuff

Chekhov - defenseless creature
The story takes place in one place, in a bank. Exhausted by an attack of illness, Mr. K. begins to receive visitors. It is very difficult for him to breathe, shortness of breath torments him.
Chekhov - Stupid Frenchman
Once the French clown Henry Pourquois decided to have breakfast in a Moscow tavern. He ordered a consommé for himself, without poached, so as not to be too satisfying.
Leo Tolstoy - Old grandfather and granddaughter
The grandfather became very old. His legs could not walk, his eyes could not see, his ears could not hear, he had no teeth. And when he ate, it flowed back from his mouth.
Saltykov-Shchedrin - Chizhikovo Mountain
One fine day, the chizhik decided to get married. His character was kind and simple. In the service he received the rank of major, working as a quartermaster. He secured a comfortable old age by accumulating a decent amount.
Poems of Russian poets about winter
We have poems about winter and brief analysis some of them

V. F. Odoevsky
Moroz Ivanovich

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 speak: "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 like to go to bed - but she does not want to sleep; she would like to eat - but she does not feel like eating; she should have counted flies at 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 there was no time for her to be bored either: now on this, now on another task, here, you see, 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 misfortune, 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: in front of her was a stove, and in the stove a pie was sitting, so ruddy, toasty; 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, apples, bulk, 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. 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. -- A! - 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, - said 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 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’s worth 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,” Moroz Ivanovich continued, “and 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 spring will come, the snowy featherbed will melt, the grass will grow, and there, you look, it will look out and grain, and the peasant will gather 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. - I'm getting 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 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, 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 are a 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; and besides, here's 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, when the rooster, which she always fed, saw her, was delighted, flew up to the fence and shouted: Kukureku ?, kukuureki ?! 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. 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 be so! I have to tire myself, 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, apples, are 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 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 thought: “I will tire myself and chill my fingers! 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 a good cook," 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; he thinks to himself: "Perhaps it will pass anyway. It was free for my sister to take on the work: the good old man, he will give me nickels for nothing anyway." 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: 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. She came home and boasts: - Here, - she says, - what I have earned: not a sister of a couple, not a handful of patches and not a small diamond, but a whole silver bar, 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 none other than quicksilver, which had hardened from the intense cold; at the same time, the diamond began to melt, and the rooster jumped onto the fence and cried loudly: Cuckoo?, 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. Meanwhile, do not forget old grandfather Iriney, but he has prepared many stories for you; just give the old man about spring with strength and health to gather.

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 doesn’t feel like eating; she would have to count 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 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 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 am 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, fed on 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.

A! - 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, - said 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 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 do not release, because it is not yet time; 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 featherbed, 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 featherbed 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'm getting 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 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, 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 are a 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:

Kukureyu, kukureyi!
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, Lenivitsa, 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 am 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 it right, girl, - the old man answered, - money follows 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 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 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, 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 cook well,” 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.

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. It was free for the sister to take on the work: the good old man, he’ll give me five nickels for free anyway.

On the third day, Lenivitsa comes and asks Moroz Ivanovich to let her go home and reward her for her work.

So 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 lived with you for three whole days.

You know, my dear, - answered the old man, - what I'll tell you: there is a difference to live and serve, and work is different for work. 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 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 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:

Kukureyu, kukureyuulka!
Lenivitsa has an ice icicle in her hands.