adsby.ru → Russia

F.M. Dostoevsky. Cotton at Christ's Yalintsi. Fedir Dostoevsky - Khlopchik at Christ's Yalintsi. Ninishnogo rasspovid (1876)

26 breast 1875 to rock F. M. Dostoevsky together with his daughter. 27 babies Dostoevsky and A.F. In the middle of the front-line days, a boy has developed on the streets of St. Petersburg, a boy, asking for mercy ("boy with a pen"). All the front-line enemies were laid in the basis of the happy (or Christmas) announcement "Cotton at Christ on Yalintsi".

On the other side, let me talk about the plot of the baladi "Yalinka of the Orphan" ("New. Des fremden Kindes heiliger Christ") 1816 to the fate of Fridrikh Rückert, a Nimetsian romantic poet. At the same hour Dostoevsky, following the traditions of the classics of the Christmas message by G. Kh. Andersen ("Little girl with sirchany sirniks") and Ch. great place... In this vypadku, a move about St. Petersburg, which is cold in the direct and figurative sense of the writing is opposed to provincial hassle by the unnamed father's father, who is not, in fact, will be warm. The theme of a hungry and childish child was spoken by a writer in the 40s by the writers "Bidni People", "Yalinka and Vesila", and the author did not enter her life by stretching his life right up to "Brothers Karamazov".

Worthy starting before the date of the 30th breast of 1875 and until the end of the day "Little boy at Christ at Yalintsy", he published the order with the latest materials about "Russian present-day children" in the blue letter of the writer "Schoden. In the first release of his renewed vision, Worthy mav will tell his readers “for children, about children with fathers, about children without fathers, especially about children on skiffs, without skiffs, about children ...”. Rospovіdі "Little boy at Christ on the Yalintsi" in "The Writer of the Writer" overwhelmed the small chapter "The Boy with the Hand", and all at once the materials of the two first chapters of "The Writer of the Writer" 'Adnani by the topic of love to children.

Fedir Dostoevsky - Khlopchik at Christ's Yalintsi. Ninishnogo rozpovid:

I Clapper with a handle

Children are wonderful people, the stink of acting and moving in. Before the skiff and in the skiff itself, in front of Rizdvo, I was all out on the street, on the home kuta, one boy, no more than seven rockies. In a terrible frost, there was a moth in a latin style, ale shia at a new bull was tied like a mottle, - which means that everything was organized, doable. Vin walking "with a handle", a very technical term, it means - ask for mercy. The term was seen by the boys themselves. Such, yak vіn, bezlіch, the stink of spinning on your road and curling up is over; He didn’t curl and say as if innocently and innocently and wondering with amazement in my eyes, it became a bootie, depriving me of my profession. On the nutrition of my wife, I saw that I had a sister, to sit without a robot, sickness; Maybe, but true, even though I am aware of the darkness, the darkness is darkness on the cotton crowd: I would like to be hanging "by the hand" in the most frightful frost, and since I don't have anything to pick up, then it’s melodiously to check the beatings. Having typed in kopecks, the lad turn around with his worms, cursed his hands into something like something, Khalatnikov, who quietly, like, “they were building up in the factory for a short time on Saturday, I’ll turn around for a robot” not earlier. There, in the doorstep, squeal with them hungry and beat squads, immediately squeak hungry babies and children. Gorilka, і brood, і let go, but smut, gorіlka. With the collected kopіyk of cotton, we immediately put it in the shinok, and bring the wine. For fun and for some reason, put an octopus in my mouth and regret it, if it’s the stopped dichotomy, the ice is not without memory for the pidlog,

... and a bitch in my mouth
Pouring in mercilessly.

If it’s growing, it’s sooner they’ll send someplace or something to the factory, and all else, if they’ve got it, must bring it to Khalatniki and drink it again. And even before the factory, the children grow up to be meticulous zealots. The stinks wander around the place and know such a thing in the winter hallways, in which it is possible to crawl or to spend the night uncomfortably. One of them spent a few nights at a housekeeper’s cat, both of which he didn’t remember. By itself, flock tops. The cradle turns into an addiction to navit at eight children, one to navit without any evidence about the malignancy of the child. To endure everything - hunger, cold, beatings, - only for one thing, for freedom, and so on from their Khalatnikov walking around for themselves. Tse wild is not the intelligence of one thing, one is not alive, one is one of the nation, who is God, who is sovereign; to navіt takі convey about them speeches, how nervously a little bit, і, prote f, all the facts.

II Cotton at Christ's Yalintsi

Ale I am a romancer, and, to build, one "history" itself sklav. Why do I write “to build”, even I myself know melodiously, how to sklav, ale me all to move in, but here and there it has begun to grow, but it itself has become, once more, in front of me, in such a majestic place and in the bitter frost.

For me to move in, when a lad is in the doorway, even a little smaller, rockin six or less. Tsey boy threw a lie in a siren and cold pedal. Odeannov vіn buv yakіys robe and tremіv. The excitement of yogi turned into a white pair, and they were sitting in the codend on the screen, as soon as they started to let steam into the company and start wondering, as they were, as they were. Ale you really wanted to live. Win kilka razviv from the wound went to the bunk, de on thin, like a little, pidstyle and on the whichever university under the head, the pillow was lying sick of the mother. Yak over there, swooning? Guilty butti, she came with her boy from a foreign place and got sick with rapt. Mister kut_v was buried two days ago in the police; The sackcloths went out, on the right, Svyatkovo, and Khalatnikov, who had lost his life, was still lying dead p'yany, not daughters, and a saint. In the small room of the room, she drove off to rheumatism as an eighty-old old woman, who lived here as a nurse, and now die by itself, oh, oh, grumble and burmochuchi on a boy, so what if it’s about to come to a fight and eat it as a nurse. You have gotten a drink here, here in the blue, but you haven’t known any of the skorinki, and once in dozen times, having gone to wake up your mother. It has become a motor, youmu, nareshti, in temryavi: for a long time already it is evening, and the fire has not been ignited. Having fooled me, I won’t be happy, but I’m not going to collapse, and it’s just as cold as it is. “It’s even colder here,” - thinking Win, having stood for three, unwittingly put his hand on the shoulders of the woman, quietly pulling on his fingers, sob to see them, and raptom, swatting his caps on the bunks, quietly, slowly, navpom. Even earlier, she was afraid of everything up in the mountains, at the gatherings, the great dog, who was driving all day at the doors of the Sussid. Ale the dogs didn’t boil, іn a raptom viyshov on the street.

Lord, yake misto! Nicholas are not a bit like that. There, otkudova vіn arrived, at night such a dark darkness, one likhtar for the whole street. Low-pitched trees of the day become confined by connitals; on the streets, three in the dark - none, all conceived by houses, and only curl the whole game of dogs, hundreds and thousands of them, whine and bark all the way. But there it was so warm and they were giving ya, and here - God, yakbi! It’s like there’s a knock and time, like light and people, horses and carriages, and frost, frost! Frozen steam to bring down from the driven horses, from the hot wild muzzles їх; kryz chubby snig ringing about the rock, і everything is so shitty, і, Lord, so I want to be happy, I want a little bitch like, and so it has become painful to my fingers. Proshit okhoronets in order and when you come back, you don’t wipe the boy.

The axis and I know the street - oh, the yak is wide! The axis here is so chantingly singing: like the stench of all screaming, shouting and blowing, but the light, the light! And tse scho? Wow, there is a great slope, and behind the slope of the room, and in the room there is a tree to the stele; the whole yalinka, and on the yalinsky there are slivers of wogs, slivers of golden papyrtsi and apples, and all around there are lyaleks, little konyachki; but in the room there are big kids, wobbly, neat, laughing and grating, and dying, and fussing. Axis tsya divchinka posed with the boy danceyuvati, yaka garnenka divchinka! Axis і music, kryz sklo sensitively. The boy marvels, marvels, even laughs, and his fingers ache, and his fingers begin to ache, and the chervoni began to call on his hands, and he didn’t bend and move more painfully. І rapt, having guessed the boy about those who have such sore fingers, crying і shoots away, і the axis know how to bump into the room, I know there are trees, there are pies on the tables, everybody is blinking, red, and there are some Bagaty barin, and when you come, they give the stench of pies, and the doors of the school come out, enter before them from the street of the bungalows. Catch a lad, opening the door and the door with a rapt. Wow, they yelled at a new one and waved! One panic went faster and thrust a coin into your hand, and she herself opened the door to the street. Yak vin is angry! And the kopієchka immediately wondered and began to ring at the gatherings: it’s not a mistake to knock out your red fingers and trim її. Vibig boy and boy sooner-sooner, but kudi, he himself does not know. I would like to cry at first glance, yes, to be afraid, і to live, to live і on the handles of the dme. And on the souls of the old, that it became a quick rapt so haphazardly and scary, and a rapt, Lord! So well, I know so? People stand at once and marvel: on the windows behind the slope there are three little lilies, small ones, in red and green little clothes and they are alive! Yakiy dіdok sit і nіbito gra on a great violin, two of them stand right there і play on small violins, і shake their heads to the beat, і marvel at one on one, і their lips break, it seems, we call to speak, - only from across the rock a little bit. I thought, I take the boy, how the stench is alive, and how good it is, how the whole person is, - raptom rasmіyavsya. Nicholas wines not pushing such a little lyalek and not knowing that such a є! Raptom youmu zdolosya, scho buv after him htos grabbed for a dressing gown; the great wicked lad stood up bilya and raptom, kicking him over the head, ripping off his cap, and giving him a little underneath. The boy pokotiv until the end, then they shouted, poured wine, jumped off and big-big, and did not know where it was, in the courtyard, in a strange place, - and sat down at the firewood: “It’s not dark here.”

When I was crouching, and I couldn't see myself out of fear and with a rapt, it became such a good thing: the handles and little rapt stopped ailing and it became so warm, so warm, like on the stove; The axis of the win was all zdrignuvsya: ah, ale, I was asleep! Yak good sleep here! “I’ll sit here and go to know how to wonder at the little lyalek, - thinking, boy, laughing, guessing about them, - call me alive! .. "The first raptom pochulya, scho mum pisenka slept over him. "Mom, I'm sleeping, oh, yak here sleep good!"

Let's go to the skiff, lad, '' a quiet voice whispered over him with a rapt.

Win thinking boo, well, everything is yogo mom, ale ni, not out; Well, having called out to him, I won’t be bothered, I didn’t bother him, but I didn’t hesitate over him and put him in the temper, and stretched out his hand and ... and rapt, - oh, how light! Oh, yak yalinka! It’s not a dough, but I don’t grow such trees! De tse vin now: everything is shining, everything is shining and everything is around, - ale ni, all the boys and girls, only such lights, all the stinks are circling the beast, melting, all the stinks are tingling with him, taking him, carrying him, carrying him, and it’s worth to fly, and to beat it up: wondering at your mother and laughing at a new radio.

Mati! Mati! Ah, yak good here, mom! - shout yy boy, and I know I want to be with the children, and I want to tell you sooner about the quiet little leach behind the slope. - Whoa, lads? Who are you, lady? - will supply wine, mix and love.

Tse "Christ's yalinka" - tell the stench to you. - At Christ, make a dinghy for little children on the whole day, for those who do not have their own dinghies ... - I know that the boys and girls are all the same, like the winners, the children, a little more froze in their cats, In some of them they went to the descent to the doors of the St. Petersburg officials, they choked to death at the chukhonok, from the vikhovny booth for being blown out, the third died at the lumpy breasts of their mothers (before the hour of Samara's hunger), a fourth of all the third died in the carriages now here, all the stinks are now like angels, everything is with Christ, and he himself is in the midst of them, and his hands stretched out to them, and blessing them and their great mothers ... And the mothers of these children all stand right there, on the sidelines, crying; I’m skinny about her boy, or a little girl, and the stench podlit up to them and cluck them, rub them in with my hands and screw them over, do not weep, bo, it’s so kind here ...

And below, on the wounds, the doormen knew the little corpse of a boy who was frozen behind the firewood; they whispered to my mother ... She died earlier than that; offense staggered at the Lord God in the sky.

First of all, I’m glorifying such a history, so I’m not going to be a very clever fellow, the same as a writer? And again, having informed about the reasons for the development! If the axis is in that and on the right, everything was built and moved around, but everything could have gone smoothly, so that those who went in the doorway and for the firewood, and there about Christ's yalinets - I don’t know, I don’t know how to tell you, what could it be? That’s why I’m a novelist, shhob vigaduwati.

Zbirnik

Cotton at Christ's Yalintsi

I. Clapper with a handle

Children are wonderful people, the stink of acting and moving in. Before the skiff and in the skiff itself in front of Rizdvo, I was all staring on the street, on the home kuta, one lad, no more than seven. In a terrible frost, there was a moth in a latin style, ale shia at a new bull was tied with a mottle, - it means that everything was organized, with power. Vin walking "with a handle"; tse technical term, which means - ask for mercy. The term was seen by the boys themselves. Such, yak vіn, bezlіch, the stink of spinning on your road and curling up is over; Without curling, saying as if innocently and innocently and wondering at me in my eyes, it became a bootie, depriving me of my profession. On the nutrition of my wife, I see that I have a sister, sit without a robot, ailment; Maybe, but true, even though I am aware of the darkness, the darkness is darkness on the cotton crowd: I would like to be hanging "by the hand" in the most frightful frost, and since I don't have anything to pick up, then it’s melodiously to check the beatings. Having typed in kopecks, the lad turn around with his worms, cursed his hands into something like something, Khalatnikov, who quietly, like, “they were building up in the factory for a short time on Saturday, I’ll turn around for a robot” not earlier. There, in the doorstep, squeal with them hungry and beat squads, immediately squeak hungry babies and children. Gorilka, і brood, і let go, but smut, gorіlka. With the collected kopіyk of cotton, we immediately put it in the shinok, and bring the wine. For fun and for some reason, put a little octopus in your mouth and regret it, if it’s stopped, the ice is not without memory for the pidlog.

... and in my mouth a bitter bitch
Pouring mercilessly ...

If it’s growing, it’s sooner they’ll send someplace or something to the factory, and all else, if they’ve got it, must bring it to Khalatniki and drink it again. And even before the factory, the children grow up with meticulous zealots. The stinks wander around the place and know this kind of thing in the winter hallways, in which it is possible to spill over and it is possible to spend the night uncomfortably. One of them spent a few nights at a housekeeper’s cat, both of which he didn’t remember. By itself, flock tops. The cradle turns into an addiction to navit at eight children, one to navit without any evidence about the malignancy of the child. To endure everything - hunger, cold, beatings, - only for one thing, for freedom, and so on from their Khalatnikov walking around for themselves. The whole thing is not the mind of one thing, one is not alive, one is one of the nation, who is God, who is the sovereign; navіt takі convey about them speeches;

II. Cotton at Christ's Yalintsi

Ale I am a romancer, and, to build, one "history" itself sklav. Whom I write: “to be built”, even I myself know melodiously, how sklav, ale me all move in, but here and there it has begun to grow, but it has already begun to grow in front of me, in a majestic place and in a bitter frost.

Lord, yake misto! Nicholas are not a bit like that. There, otkudova vіn arrived, at night such a dark darkness, one likhtar for the whole street. Low-pitched trees of the day become confined by connitals; on the streets, three in the dark - none, all conceived by houses, and only curl the whole game of dogs, hundreds and thousands of them, whine and bark all the way. But there it was so warm and they were giving ya, and here - Lord, yakbi! It’s like there’s a knock and time, like light and people, horses and carriages, and frost, frost! Frozen steam to bring down from the driven horses, from the hot wild muzzles їх; kryz chubby snig ringing about the rock, і everything is so shitty, і, Lord, I want so much to live, I want a little bitch like, і it has become so painful to my fingers. Proshit okhoronets in order and when you come back, you don’t wipe the boy.

The axis and I know the street - oh, the yak is wide! The axis here is so humorous; like the stench of all screaming, shouting and blowing, but light, light, light! And tse scho? Wow, there is a great slope, and behind the slope of the room, and in the room there is a tree to the stele; the whole yalinka, and on the yalinsky there are slivers of wogs, slivers of golden papyrtsi and apples, and all around there are lyaleks, little konyachki; but in the room there are big kids, wobbly, clean, laughing and grating, and dying, and fussing. Axis tsya divchinka started dancing with the lad, yaka garnenka divchinka! Axis і music, kryz sklo sensitively. The boy marvels, marvels, even laughs, and his fingers ache, and his fingers begin to ache, and the chervoni began to call on his hands, and he didn’t bend and turn more painfully. І rapt, having guessed the boy about those who have such sore fingers, crying і shoots away, і the axis know how to bump into the room, I know there are trees, there are pies on the tables, everybody is blinking, red, and there are some Bagaty barin, and when you come, they give the stench of pies, and the doors of the school come out, enter before them from the street of the bungalows. Catch a lad, opening the door and the door with a rapt. Wow, they yelled at a new one and waved! One panic went faster and thrust a coin into your hand, and she herself opened the door to the street. Yak vin is angry! And the kopієchka immediately wondered and rang on the gatherings: it was not a mistake to knock out your red fingers and trim it. Vibig boy and boy sooner, sooner, but hey, I don’t know. I would like to cry at first glance, yes, to be afraid, і to live, to live і on the handles of the dme. And on the soul of an old one, it was so haphazard and scary, and a rap, Lord! So why don't I know this? People stand at once and marvel: on the windows behind the slope, there are three little lilies, small ones, in red and green little clothes, and they are alive! Yakis dіdok sit і nіbito gra on a great violin, two of them stand right there і play on small violins, і shake their heads to the beat, і marvel at one on one, і their lips break, it seems, we call to speak, - only from across the rock a little bit. I thought, I take the boy, how the stench is alive, and how good it is, how the whole person is, - raptom rasmіyavsya. Nicholas wines not pushing such a little lance and not knowing that such є! I just want a poster, ale so funny, funny on a lyalechok. Rapt yomu hesitated, scho after him htos grabbed for a robe: the great evil lad stood up and rattled him on the head, ripped off his cap, and gave him a bottom from the bottom. The boy pokoted to the floor, then they shouted, clumping wine, jumping off and big-big, and rapping he didn’t know where he was, in the yard, in a strange place, - and sitting at the firewood: “It’s not dark here.”

When I was crouching, and I could not see myself out of fear and with a rapt, it became such a good thing: the handles and the rapt stopped ailing and it became so warm, so warm, like on the stove; The axis of the win was all zdrignuvsya: ah, ah, ale, I was asleep! I’ll like to fall asleep here: “I’ll sit here and go to know how to wonder at the lyalechok,” the boy thought and laughed, having guessed about them, “I’m calling you alive! .. "The first raptom pochulya, scho mum pisenka slept over him. "Mom, I'm sleeping, oh, yak here sleep good!"

Let's go to the skiff, lad, ”a quiet voice whispered over him with a rapt. Win thinking boo, well, everything is yogo mom, ale ni, not out; Well, after yelling, I’m not banging, but I’m not banging over him and taking him in temryav, and stretching out his hand and ... and rapt, - oh, how light! Oh, yak yalinka! It’s not a dough, but I don’t grow such trees! De tse vin now: everything is shining, everything is shining and all around, all the little ones, - ale ni, all the lads and the girl, only those lights, all the stinks are circling the new, the lithium, all the stinks are tingling with him, taking him, carrying him, and it’s for me to fly, і bugger in: wondering at my mother і laughing at a new radio.

Mati! Mati! Oh, yak good here, mom! - shout yy lad, and I know I want to be with the children, and I want to tell you sooner about the quiet little leach behind the slope. - Whoa, lads? Who are you, lady? - power up the wine, mix and love їkh.

Tse "Christ's yalinka" - tell the stench to you. - At Christ, make a dinghy for little children on the whole day, for those who do not have their own dinghies ... - I know that the lads and the daughters are all the same, like the winners, the children, but the only ones froze in their cats, In some of them they went to the descent to the doors of the Petersburg officials, they choked to death at the chukhonki, from the vikhovny booth for being blown out, the third died at the lofty breasts of their mothers, before the hour of Samara hunger, the fourth was suffocated in the carriages here, all the stinks are now like angels, everything is with Christ, and he himself is among them, and his hands are stretched out to them, and he blesses them and their great mothers ... And the mothers of these children all stand right there, to the side, and cry; I’m skinny about her boy, or a little girl, and the stench podlit up to them and cluck them, rub them in with my hands and screw them over, do not weep, bo, it’s so kind here ...

And below, on the wounds, the dvirniki knew the little corpse of a boy who was frozen behind the firewood; they whispered to my mother ... She died earlier than that; resentment staggered with the Lord God in heaven.

First of all, I’m glorifying such a history, so I’m not going to be a very clever fellow, the same as a writer? And again, having discussed the issues, it is important about the ideas of those who work! If the axis is in that and on the right, everything was built and moved around, but everything could have gone smoothly, - so that those who went in the doorway and for the wood, and there about the yalinets at Christ's - I don't know, how to tell you, what could it be, chi ni? That’s why I’m a novelist, a vigaduwati.

Fedir Dostoevsky

CLOTTER AT CHRIST ON YALINTSI

HANDLE CLOTTER

Children are wonderful people, they stink and move in. Before the yalinka and in the yalinka itself before the ride, I was all out on the street, at the house of the house, one boy, no more than seven. In a terrible frost, there was a moth in a latin style, ale shia at a new bull was tied like a mottle, - that means that everything was organized, with power. Vin walking "with a handle"; tse technical term, which means - ask for mercy. The term was seen by the boys themselves. Such, yak vіn, bezlіch, the stink of spinning on your road and frizzy; Without curling, saying as if innocently and innocently and wondering at me in my eyes, it became a bootie, depriving me of my profession. On the nutrition of my wife, I saw that I had a sister, to sit without a robot, sickness; Maybe, but true, even though I am aware of the darkness, the darkness is darkness on the cotton crowd: I would like to be hanging "by the hand" in the most frightful frost, and since I don't have anything to pick up, then it’s melodiously to check the beatings. Having typed in kopecks, the lad turn around with his worms, swear by his hands into something like something, Khalatnikov, who quietly, they themselves, “built up in the factory for a while on Saturday, turn around, I know for a robot” not earlier. There, in the doorstep, to squeak with them hungry and beat squads, immediately squeak hungry babies and children. Gorilka, і brood, і let go, but smut, gorіlka. With the collected kopіyk of cotton at once to feed into the shinok, and bring wine. For fun and for some reason, put an octopus in your mouth and regret it, if it’s stopped, the ice is not without memory for the pidlog.

... and in my mouth a bitter bitch
Pouring mercilessly ...

If it’s growing, it’s sooner they’ll send someplace or something to the factory, but all that’s wrong is to bring it to Khalatniki and drink it again. And even before the factory, the children grow up to be meticulous zealots. The stinks wander around the place and know such a thing in the winter hallways, in which it is possible to crawl or to spend the night uncomfortably. One of them spent a few nights at a housekeeper’s cat, both of which he didn’t remember. By itself, flock tops. The cradle turns into an addiction to navit at eight children, one to navit without any evidence about the malignancy of the child. To endure everything - hunger, cold, beatings, - only for one thing, for freedom, and so on from their Khalatnikov walking around for themselves. The whole thing is not the mind of one thing, one is not alive, one is not one of the nation, who is God, who is sovereign; navіt takі convey speeches about them, how nervously a little bit, and, at the same time, all the facts.

CLOTTER AT CHRIST ON YALINTSI

Ale I am a romancer, and, to build, one "history" itself sklav. Whom I write: “to be built”, even I myself know melodiously, how sklav, ale me all to move in, but now and when it’s pricked, it’s the same time, it’s yaku to the majestic place and in the bitter frost.

The axis and I know the street - oh, the yak is wide! The axis here is so humorous; like the stench of all screaming, shouting and blowing, but light, light, light! And tse scho? Wow, there is a great slope, and behind the slope of the room, and in the room there is a tree up to the stele; there is a yalinka, and on the yalinsky there are slivers of wogs, slices of golden papyrtsi and apples, and all around there are lyaleks, little konyachki; but in the room there are big kids, wobbly, clean, laughing and grating, and dying, and fussing. Axis tsya divchinka posed with the boy danceyuvati, yaka garnenka divchinka! Axis і music, kryz sklo sensitively. The boy marvels, marvels, even laughs, and his fingers hurt, and his fingers began to hurt, and the hearts began to call on his hands, and he didn’t bend and turn more painfully. І rapt, having guessed the boy about those who have such sore fingers, crying і shoots away, і the axis know how to bump into the room, I know there are trees, there are pies on the tables, everybody is blinking, red, and there are some Bagaty barin, but when you come, they give the stench of pies, and you see the doors of the school, enter before them from the street of the bungalows. Catch a lad, opening the door and the door with a rapt. Wow, they yelled at the new one and waved! One panic went faster and thrust a coin into your hand, and she herself opened the door to the street. Yak vin is angry! And the kopієchka immediately wondered and rang on the gatherings: it was not a mistake to knock out your red fingers and trim it. Vibig boy and boy sooner-sooner, but kudi, he himself does not know. I would like to cry at first glance, yes, to be afraid, і to live, to live і on the handles of the dme. And on the souls of the old, that it was so haphazardly and scary, and fast, Lord! So well, I know so? People stand at once and marvel: on the windows behind the slope, there are three little lilies, small ones, in red and green little clothes, and they are alive! Yakiy dіdok sit і nіbito gra on a great violin, two of them stand right there і play on small violins, і shake their heads to the beat, і marvel at one on one, і their lips break, it seems, we call to speak, - only from across the rock a little bit. I thought, I take the boy, how the stench is alive, and how good it is, how the whole person is, - raptom rasmіyavsya. Nicholas wines not pushing such a little lance and not knowing what it is є! I just want to make a poster, ale so funny and funny on a little liaison. Rapt yomu hesitated, scho after him htos grabbed for a robe: the great evil lad stood up and rattled him on the head, ripped off his cap, and gave him a bottom from the bottom. The boy pokoted to the floor, then they shouted, clumping wine, jumping off and big-big, and rapping he didn’t know where he was, in the yard, in a strange place, - and sitting at the firewood: “It’s not dark here.”

... and in my mouth a bitter bitch

Pouring mercilessly ...

CLOTTER AT CHRIST ON YALINTSI

The axis and I know the street - oh, the yak is wide! The axis here is so humorous; like the stench of all screaming, shouting and blowing, but light, light, light! And tse scho? Wow, there is a great slope, and behind the slope of the room, and in the room there is a tree up to the stele; there is a yalinka, and on the yalinsky there are slivers of wogs, slices of golden papyrtsi and apples, and all around there are lyaleks, little konyachki; but in the room there are big kids, wobbly, clean, laughing and grating, and dying, and fussing. Axis tsya divchinka posed with the boy danceyuvati, yaka garnenka divchinka! Axis і music, kryz sklo sensitively. The boy marvels, marvels, even laughs, and his fingers hurt, and his fingers began to hurt, and the hearts began to call on his hands, and he didn’t bend and turn more painfully. І rapt, having guessed the boy about those who have such sore fingers, crying і shoots away, і the axis know how to bump into the room, I know there are trees, there are pies on the tables, everybody is blinking, red, and there are some Bagaty barin, but when you come, they give the stench of pies, and you see the doors of the school, enter before them from the street of the bungalows. Catch a lad, opening the door and the door with a rapt. Wow, they yelled at the new one and waved! One panic went faster and thrust a coin into your hand, and she herself opened the door to the street. Yak vin is angry! And the kopієchka immediately wondered and rang on the gatherings: it was not a mistake to knock out your red fingers and trim it. Vibig boy and boy sooner-sooner, but kudi, he himself does not know. I would like to cry at first glance, yes, to be afraid, і to live, to live і on the handles of the dme. And on the souls of the old, that it was so haphazardly and scary, and fast, Lord! So well, I know so? People stand at once and marvel: on the windows behind the slope, there are three little lilies, small ones, in red and green little clothes, and they are alive! Yakiy dіdok sit і nіbito gra on a great violin, two of them stand right there і play on small violins, і shake their heads to the beat, і marvel at one on one, і their lips break, it seems, we call to speak, - only from across the rock a little bit. I thought, I take the boy, how the stench is alive, and how good it is, how the whole person is, - raptom rasmіyavsya. Nicholas wines not pushing such a little lance and not knowing what it is є! I just want to make a poster, ale so funny and funny on a little liaison. Rapt yomu hesitated, scho after him htos grabbed for a robe: the great evil lad stood up and rattled him on the head, ripped off his cap, and gave him a bottom from the bottom. The boy pokoted to the floor, then they shouted, clumping wine, jumping off and big-big, and rapping he didn’t know where he was, in the yard, in a strange place, - and sitting at the firewood: “It’s not dark here.”

F. M. Dostoevsky. Selecting creations in twelve volumes. Volume XII. - M .: Pravda, 1982 .-- S.457-462.

F.M. DOSTOVSKY

CLOTTER AT CHRIST ON YALINTSI

HANDLE CLOTTER

Children are wonderful people, the stink of acting and moving in. Before the yalinka and in the yalinka itself before the ride, I was all out on the street, at the house of the house, one boy, no more than seven. In a terrible frost, there was a moth in a latin style, ale shia at a new bull was tied with a mottle, - it means that everything was organized, with power. Vin walking "with a handle"; tse technical term, which means - ask for mercy. The term was seen by the boys themselves. Such, yak vіn, bezlіch, the stink of spinning on your road and curling up is over; He didn’t curl and say as if innocently and innocently and wondering with amazement in my eyes, it became a bootie, depriving me of my profession. On the nutrition of my wife, I saw that I had a sister, to sit without a robot, sickness; Maybe, but true, even though I knew better, it’s dark and dark on the cotton crowd: I would like to be in the most frightful frost, and as if I don’t pick up anything, I’m singing the beatings. Having typed a few kopecks, the lad turn around with the worms, cursed his hands into some kind of podval, de-chuckle while playing Khalatnikov, from quietly, as they "rebuilt in the factory against a few days on Saturday, turn around, I know, I will not come back to work." There, in the doorstep, squeal with them hungry and beat squads, immediately squeak hungry babies and children. Gorilka, і brood, і let go, but smut, gorіlka. With the collected kopіyk of cotton, we immediately put it in the shinok, and bring the wine. For fun and when I’m just pouring a octopus into my mouth and regret it, if it’s the stopped dichotomy, the ice is not without memory for the pidlog, ... go somewhere to the factory, ale everything, wіn zapratsyuє, wіn know of goiters, bring them to Khalatniki, and again drink it. And even before the factory, the children grow up to be meticulous zealots. The stinks wander around the place and know such a thing in the winter hallways, in which it is possible to crawl or to spend the night uncomfortably. One of them spent a few nights at a housekeeper’s cat, both of which he didn’t remember. By itself, flock tops. The cradle turns into an addiction to navit at eight children, one to navit without any evidence about the malignancy of the child. To endure everything - hunger, cold, beatings, - only for one thing, for freedom, and so on from their Khalatnikov walking around for themselves. The whole thing is not the mind of one thing, one is not alive, one is not one of the nation, who is God, who is sovereign; navіt takі convey speeches about them, how nervously a little bit, and, at the same time, all the facts.

CLOTTER AT CHRIST ON YALINTSI

Ale I am a romancer, and, to build, one "history" itself sklav. Whom I write: "to be created", even I myself know melodiously, how sklav, ale me all to move in, but it’s here and when it’s got stuck, it’s just like it’s in front of me. yaku to the majestic place and in the bitter frost. For me to move in, when a lad is in the doorway, even a little smaller, rockin six or less. Tsey boy threw a lie in a siren and cold pedal. Odeannov vіn buv yakіys robe and tremіv. The excitement of yogi turned into a white pair, and they were sitting in the codend on the screen, as soon as they started to let steam into the company and start wondering, as they were, as they were. Ale you really wanted to live. Win kilka razviv from the wound went to the bunk, de on thin, like a little, pidstyle and on the whichever university under the head, the pillow was lying sick of the mother. Yak over there, swooning? Guilty butti, she came with her boy from a foreign place and got sick with rapt. Mister kut_v was buried two days ago in the police; The sackcloths went out, on the right, Svyatkovo, and Khalatnikov, who had lost his life, was still lying dead p'yany, not daughters, and a saint. In the small room of the room, she drove off to rheumatism as an eighty-old old woman, who lived here as a nurse, and now die by itself, oh, oh, grumble and burmochuchi on a boy, so what if it’s about to come to a fight and eat it as a nurse. You have gotten a drink here, here in the blue, but you haven’t known any of the skorinki, and once in dozen times, having gone to wake up your mother. It has become a motor, youmu, nareshti, in temryavi: for a long time already it is evening, and the fire has not been ignited. Having fooled me, I won’t be happy, but I’m not going to collapse, and it’s just as cold as it is. “It’s even colder here,” - thinking Win, having stood for three, unwittingly putting his hand on the shoulders of the woman, quietly pulling on his fingers, sob to see them, and raptom, swatting his caps on the bunks, quietly, slowly, navpom. Even earlier, she was afraid of everything up in the mountains, at the gatherings, the great dog, who was driving all day at the doors of the Sussid. Ale the dogs didn’t boil, іn a raptom viyshov on the street. Lord, yake misto! Nicholas are not a bit like that. There, otkudova vіn arrived, at night such a dark darkness, one likhtar for the whole street. Low-pitched trees of the day become confined by connitals; on the streets, three in the dark - none, all conceived by houses, and only curl the whole game of dogs, hundreds and thousands of them, whine and bark all the way. But there it was so warm and they were giving ya, and here - God, yakbi! It’s like there’s a knock and time, like light and people, horses and carriages, and frost, frost! Frozen steam to bring down from the driven horses, from the hot wild muzzles їх; kryz chubby snig ringing about the rock, і everything is so shitty, і, Lord, so I want to be happy, I want a little bitch like, and so it has become painful to my fingers. Proshit okhoronets in order and when you come back, you don’t wipe the boy. The axis and I know the street - oh, the yak is wide! The axis here is so humorous; like the stench of all screaming, shouting and blowing, but light, light, light! And tse scho? Wow, there is a great slope, and behind the slope of the room, and in the room there is a tree to the stele; there is a yalinka, and on the yalinsky there are slivers of wogs, slices of golden papyrtsi and apples, and all around there are lyaleks, little konyachki; but in the room there are big kids, wobbly, neat, laughing and grating, and dying, and fussing. Axis tsya divchinka posed with the boy danceyuvati, yaka garnenka divchinka! Axis і music, kryz sklo sensitively. The boy marvels, marvels, even laughs, and his fingers hurt, and his fingers began to hurt, and the hearts began to call on his hands, and he didn’t bend and turn more painfully. І rapt guessing the boy about those who have such sore fingers, crying і shoots away, і the axis know how to bump into the room, I know there are trees, there are pies on the tables, everybody is blinking, red, і sit Bagaty barin, and when you come, they give the stench of pies, and the doors of the school come out, enter before them from the street of the bungalows. Catch a lad, opening the door and the door with a rapt. Wow, they yelled at the new one and waved! One panic went faster and thrust a coin into your hand, and she herself opened the door to the street. Yak vin is angry! And the kopієchka immediately wondered and began to ring at the gatherings: it’s not a mistake to knock out your red fingers and trim її. Vibig boy and boy sooner-sooner, but kudi, he himself does not know. I would like to cry at first glance, yes, to be afraid, і to live, to live і on the handles of the dme. And on the souls of the old, that it was so haphazardly and scary, and fast, Lord! So why don't I know this? People stand at once and marvel: on the windows behind the slope, there are three little lilies, small ones, in red and green little clothes, and they are alive! Yakiy dіdok sit і nіbito graє on a great violin, two of them stand right there і play on small violins, і shake their heads to the beat, і marvel one by one, і their lips break, it seems, we call to speak, - only the axis through the slope is not a little bit. I thought, I take the boy, how the stench is alive, and how good it is, how the whole person is, - raptom rasmіyavsya. Nicholas wines not pushing such a little lance and not knowing what it is є! I just want a poster, ale so funny, funny on a lyalechok. Rapt yomu good, scho after him htos grabbed for a robe: the great evil lad stood up and rattled him on the head, snatched his cap, and from below gave him a nizhkoyu. The boy pokoted to the floor, then they shouted, poured wine, jumped off and big-big, and rapped he didn’t know where it was, in the courtyard, in a strange place, - and sat down at the firewood: “It’s not dark here.” When I was crouching, and I could not see myself out of fear and with a rapt, it became such a good thing: the handles and the rapt stopped ailing and it became so warm, so warm, like on the stove; The axis of the win was all zdrignuvsya: ah, ah, ale, I was asleep! I’ll go to sleep here: “I’ll sit here, and I’ll be amazed at the little lyalek,” the boy thought, and chuckled, thinking about them, “I’m calling you alive! ..” "Mom, I'm sleeping, oh, yak here sleep good!" - Let's go to the skiff, lad, - a quiet voice whispered over him with a rapt. Win thinking boo, well, everything is yogo mom, ale ni, not out; Well, after yelling, I’m not banging, but I’m not banging over him and taking him in temryav, and stretching out his hand and ... and rapt, - oh, how light! Oh, yak yalinka! It’s not a dough, but I don’t grow such trees! De tse vin now: everything is shining, everything is shining and all around, all the little ones, - ale ni, all the lads and the girl, only those lights, all the stinks are circling the new, the lithium, all the stinks are tingling with him, taking him, carrying him, It’s worth flying, and it’s wrong: wondering at your mother and laughing at a new radio. -- Mama! Mati! Oh, yak good here, mom! - shout yy lad, and I know I want to be with the children, and I want to tell you sooner about the quiet little leach behind the slope. - Whoa, lads? Who are you, lady? - power up the wine, mix and love їkh. - Tse "Christ's Yalinka", - the stench of yomu says. - At Christ, make a dinghy for little children on the whole day, for those who have a lot of their own dinghies ... - I know it’s that the boys and girls are all the same, like the winners, the children, but some are frozen still in their baskets, In some of them they went to the descent to the doors of the St. here, all the stinks are now like angels, everything is with Christ, and he himself is among them, and his hands are stretched out to them, and he blesses them and their great mothers ... And the mothers of these children all stand right there, to the side, and cry; Skinny knows her boy or a little girl, and the stench podlitayut up to them and cluck them, rub them in with their hands and scamper them, do not placards, bo it is so kind here. .. And at the bottom of the wounds, the dvirniki knew a small corpse of a boy who was frozen behind the firewood; they whispered to my mother ... She died earlier than that; offense staggered at the Lord God in the sky. First of all, I’m glorifying such a history, so I’m not going to be a very clever fellow, the same as a writer? And again, having discussed the issues, it is important about the ideas of those who work! If the axis is in that and on the right, everything was built and moved around, but everything could have gone smoothly, - so that those who went in the doorway and for the wood, and there about the yalinets at Christ's - I don't know, how to tell you, what could it be, chi ni? That’s why I’m a novelist, a vigaduwati.