Mikhailo Prishvin. Tell the kids about nature

The tree with its upper whorl, like a hollow, took away the falling snow, and this kind of light, so that the top of the birch tree began to bend. I became, at a long way, having lost the knowledge of the snow, and having adhered to the one who, and the upper head with the breast bent the whole tree with an arch, lay, nareshty, the top with this magnificent breast did not fly into the snow on the ground and it was not suspended until it was itself. Throughout the winter, there were animals and people on the licks. The brace of the pride marveled from above at the bent birch, as the people, the people of the women, were amazed at their pidleglich.

Hinged birch turned to a quiet twilight, і as in tsu especially in the winter, it didn’t ignore, then because of the charge, and the middle of the hoofs was lost, but it didn’t seem to have been lost, now it wasn’t decided to take out the skin Rik archly swooped over the stitch.

It’s scary to escape into a young forest in the snowy winter; There, a little bit of people along the wide road, now there are bent trees across the road, and so low, as only hares go by them and try ...

Lisichkin Khlib

Once I passed in the middle of a day and overnight, turning to the house with a lot of good luck. Knowing the importance of the bag from the shoulders and becoming your own kindness for the style.

Tse scho for ptah? - energized Zinochka.

Terentiy, - I was informed.

First tip about the black grouse: I’m alive in the forest, like a burmese canopy, like a birch brunky’s beak, berries in the bogs picking up, grabbing together in the morning. Rose probably about hazel grouse, showing it, well, gray, with a forelock, and whistling a pipe in Ryabchin and giving a whistle. I also hung on a glass of rich mushrooms and chervony, and black ones. I also have a crooked berry in a clump, and a blakitna blackberry, and a red lingonberry. Also, I brought with me a fragrant breast of pine resin, giving a scent to the divine and saying that the resin of the tree would shine.

Who is there like? - energized Zinochka.

To be happy, - I said. - Come, boo, mislivets, if you want to see it, win and put the sokir in a tree and hang a bag on the sokir, and go to the tree himself. Sleep, in a way. Wiim from the tree of sokir, a bag, go, go. And from the wounds from the tree to the tree, it is fragrant with tar and the wound is tightened.

It seems that for Zinochka, I brought the wonderful wonderful herbs on the leaf, according to the corints, according to the quotation: zozulin slips, valerian, petriv chrest, hare cabbage. The first time I had a hare cabbage lying next to my shmatok of a black bread: for me, start a booze, well, if I don’t take bread in the forest, I’m hungry, but if I’m hungry, I’ll forget the food and I’ll bring it back. And Zinochka, if she poured black khlib at me with hare cabbage, so I got it:

Are the stars in the fox taking hlib?

What is wonderful here? Aje є there is cabbage!

Hare ...

And hlib - Lisichkin. Try it. I gently tasted and felt good:

Good Lisichkin hlib!

And all my black bread is clean. So it happened with us: Zinochka, copuli like that, often I don’t take some bread, but if I’m going to take Lisichkin’s bread, I’ll bring him all the food and praise:

Lisichkin hlib kudi is more beautiful than ours!

blakitnі tіnі

Silence, frosty and light was renewed. Vchorashnya powder lie on the crust, yak powder with shining blisks. Nast nowhere does not fail on the field, on the sun, trim more beautifully, lower in the tin. Leather bush of the old Polinka, budyak, bilini, blade of grass, yak in the mirror, marvel at the blistering powder and bash oneself blaky and beautiful.

quiet snig

It seems about silence: "Quiet drive, lower grass ..." All day long, having fallen snig, and as a whole day, I will keep quiet from heaven ... and every sound just heard from the sky: having cried out, the crow cried, the woodpecker rattled, the jay slept with voices, a little quiet in the middle. Yaka is quiet, yaka is grace.

prozoriy lid

Kindly marvel at that glimpse of ice, de the frost do not build up the windows and do not turn the water over them. It can be seen that a flock of bulbs is immense to his wife, and a flock of bulbs, and a flock of bulbs from the ice, to rush through the ice, and to rush through the ice with great speed, as this stench, this one should not even need to get up.

Zhurka

Once it was with us - we were angry with the young crane and gave him a toad. Vin її prokovtnuv. Dali іnshu - prokovtnuv. The third, fourth, p'yatu, and more than that, we didn't get toads with our hand.

Razumnytsya! - said my squad and fed me; - And what about the wine? Ten maybe?

Ten, I think, maybe.

How about twenty?

Twenty, - I seem, - chi ...

They drove over the krill crane, and became guilty of the team's efforts. There is a cow to die - and a Zhurka is with her, a Zhurka is with her, a Zhurk is with her, there is a Zhurk demand ... The sound of a new squad ... and without a new one, it’s already boring, without a new one. Ale only if you have a meal - dumb, shout only one: "Fru-Fru!" Such a smart girl!

So the crane is alive with us, and the cranes are growing and growing.

Once the squad went for water down to the swamp, and Zhurka followed her. Zhabenya is a small seed near a well and a strip from Zhurk into a swamp. The zhurka is behind him, but the water is glib, і from the shore to the frog does not reach. Mach-mah krilami Zhurka and raptom flights. The squad gasped - and followed him. Swing with your hands, but you can’t do it. І in the sleep, і before us: “Ah, ah, woe to the yake! Ahah! "We all arrived at the well. Bachimo - Zhurka is far away, in the middle of our swamp to sit.

Frou-Frou! I shout.

And all the lads behind me can shout:

Frou-Frou!

І such a rozumnik! Yak tilki felt our "fruit-fruit", at the same time swinging krill and arriving. Here, even the squad does not remember for itself in joy, to tell the lads to go after the toads. In tsei rik of toads bulo bezlich, the lads soon gathered two caps. They brought the lads of toads, began to give and vvazati. Got p'yat - pokovtnuv, gave ten - pokovtvu, twenty or thirty, - that is the axis and poke at one time forty-three toads.

Bilichi memory

Years, looking at the snow, following the little animals and birds, I read the axis over and over again: the little bit made its way through the snow in the moss, two peas were captured in the autumn, and right there they were - I know the scales. Then I took a dozen meters, I knew it, I knew it, I got a shkaralupa on the snow, and through a few meters I made the third climb.

What a miracle? It’s impossible to think, what a smell of bitterness through this ball of snow and ice. It means that I remembered in the autumn about my mountains and, for sure, I saw them among them.

If I found it, I couldn't see it, like it, centimeters, but right in-and-out from the exactness of the beginning, first, and last. Well, yak, it’s not late for the big memory and fun!

fox doctor

We wandered the canopies in the forest and sported the life of the hollow birds: woodpeckers, owls. Rapt in the tiy side, de we have a tree that has been built earlier, we felt the sound of a file. That Bula, as we were told, procured firewood from dry wood for the sklyanny plant. We feared for our tree, aspired to the sound of a saw, a little more clearly: our little wasp was lying, and near the stump there were empty empty aline cones. Tse all the woodpecker see through the winter, picking up, wearing aspen on tsiu, laying between two bitches his own master and dovbav. Close to the tree stump, on the spruce of our wasps, two cotton-baked cotton only took care of the timber, sawed off the forest.

Eh vi, beshketniki! - they said, and they told him to see him. - You were ordered to dry trees, but did you break them?

The woodpecker has dirked, - the lads have come. - We wondered and, slyly, they sawed down. All one wasted.

They all began to look at the tree at once. It’s just a little fresh, and only in a small space, not more than a meter in the middle, in the middle of a stove burrow a worm. The woodpecker, obviously, having listened to the hornet, like a doctor: sounding it with its own joke, sounding it empty, hobnobbing it, and having started the operation of the hobak before the operation. For the first time, for the third, and for quarters ... A thin stovbur of an osiki resembling a nozzle with valves. Seven drok defeated the "hirurg" and only on the eighth, having snatched a worm, knocking and vryatuvav a worm.

Mi virіzali tsey shmatok, like a monstrous exhibit for the museum.

Bachite, - they said to my lads, - the woodpecker is a good doctor, he has hidden an ossicle, I won’t have lived and lived, and we have seen.

The boys marveled.

bily necklace

Feeling in Siberia, bilya of Lake Baikal, seeing one huge man about the knowledge, I am aware of it, not having learned it. Ale vin me singing, about the vipadoks in the old hours, in the Siberian magazine, the bulo is supervised under the heading: "Lyudina is wed against vovkiv."

Alive on the birch of Lake Baikal, one watchman, catching ribu, bіlok shoots. The first axis of times is not enough to bash the watchman at the end - to go straight to the house of the great Vedmid, and after him to marry playing vovkiv. Axis-axis bi і kіnets vedmedyu. Win, the wizard, do not be rotten, in the blue, the door itself closed behind him, and now it was on her paw and he huddled himself. The old man, sounding tse on the right, knowing the guint of the stile and even:

- Misha, Misha, try it!

Vovka lick on the door, and the old man vovka in vivka and repeat:

- Misha, Misha, try it!

So having driven in one vovka, і the other, і the third, the whole hour is applied:

- Misha, Misha, try it!

The song of the third game was raised, and the witness was lost in the hut for wintering before the protection of the old one. Sheds, if the bearers go out from their barlogs, the old man pulls a bead of a necklace onto the bearer and to all the mischief-makers, so that the bearer of the bearer - with a beaded necklace - none of the bearers: - a whole lot of others.

bilyak

Straight wet snig all night in the fox, having sat on bitches, shaved, falling, rustling.

The sound of the big hare's horns from the forest, and the wine, melodiously, zmetikuvav, until the black field is broken up to the wound, the big one, absolutely white, you can lie quietly. I was lying on the field not far from the forest, and not far from the forest, perhaps, lying in motion for a little while and the horse's skull was beaten by sleepy barriers.

Until the next day, the whole field was boiled in, and in a bileless world there was a bile of a baby and a bile of a skull.

My trochs were a little bit overwhelmed, and if they let the hound go, they started pouring out.

If Osman started picking fat, it is still possible to work out the shape of the paw of a hare from a bilyak with difficulty: win is over from a hare. Ale did not rise, Osman didn’t rhyme with it, as everything was absolutely blotted out on a white stitch, and on the black day it didn’t lose sight or smell.

We waved our hand at the polyvania and began to turn the knots around the house.

- Hang on to the binokl, - I said to the comrades, - it’s the bіlіє there on the black field and it’s so bright.

- Horse skull, head

I took a binocle from a new one, and maybe I smacked my skull.

“There’s still a lot,” said the comrade, “be amazed at the polovi.

I marveled at that, and there, maybe like a skull, a lily-bili, lying behind, and in a prismatic binocle you can navigate a bachelor of black eyes. Vin buv in a zhakhlivomu camp: lie down - tse buti all on uvaz, big - put on the soft wet earth of waving slides for the dog. We pinned him down: they didn’t, and at the same moment Osman, translated, with a wild roar set off on the sighted.

swamp

I know that in the early spring there are not many people sitting in the swamps in the cleaned out grouse strum, and I have few words, so I want to stretch over the whole time of the bird’s concert in the swamps before the meeting. Often I hesitated, then I play the note in the whole concert, far away from the very first stretch on the light, the curlew. It is a very thin trill, absolutely not similar to all vidomy whistles. If you shout out the curlews, they zachuchit the black grouse and the curlews, and sometimes the smoker himself, start your own burmotin, here it’s not up to the curlew, but it’s not until the nightfall at the very clean moment, but now I respect the funniest moment. tankov: the dance is so necessary for the sound, like the cry of a crane.

Since I was bachin 'from a kuren, like a middle-class pivnyachoy masi, vlashtuvavsya on the bush of the Syrian curlew, female; before her, the male arrived and was able to catch himself in the waving of his great krill, kick the back of the female with his feet and spit his tank. Here, surprisingly, all three of them came from the back of all the swamp birds, and, in memory, kalyuzha when there was silence, all the sickly awakened in these comas.

The look of the curlew, even more curved and crooked, should be carried over to my life in an hour long past, if there were no people on the earth. Everything in the swamps is so marvelous, there are few bogs, they are not interested in artists, they feel like they are not a human being on the ground.

I have mutilated the dogs in the swamps. The board hovered even more in front of the new board. The dogs, hanging their tongues, flew for an hour every hour, kicked like a pig, with their belly in the swamp kalyuzhi. Apparently, the juveniles have not yet wandered and did not vibrate from the cradle on the screen of the place, and in our birds, which were re-equipped with swamp game, now the dogs could not smell anything and, without the help of the force, were able to see the crows spill through. A great bird appeared in a rapt, began to scream anxiously and describe a great stake around us. Arriving and the first curlew, even becoming a scream of circling, the third, obviously, from the first time, overtook a number of two, calmed down. I needed a curlew egg in my collection by the way; swamp. So little by little, since the low dream became majestic and the worm-name in the warm, swampy vipars, I saw the closeness of the nest: the birds screamed unbearably and were worn so close to me, but on a worm-colored dream I am bachiv, clearly crooked, cry. Nareshti, offending dogs, having grabbed the upper chutty, made a stike. I went straight into my eyes and noses, and hitting the moss, bea krykhit bush, without any attachments or pricks, to lie two great eggs. Having called the dogs to lie down, I happily glanced around at myself, the mosquitoes bitten hard, and I did not hear a sound before them.

Like good me, in the inaccessible swamps and in the distant terms of the earth, the earth sank from the great birds with their crooked noses, on the bendy krill to rewind the disc of the red dream!

I already wanted to get to the ground, to take one of the great beautiful eggs, like a raptom, far away through the swamp, right on top of my head. There were no rushnitsa, no dogs, no dogs, no clubbing in the hands, no no-one, no way, no people like that I didn’t know, perhaps I could have walked around mosquitoes with blue blood on the swamp. It was so unacceptable for me, as if I would be present in front of the mirror and having made a special peak at the same time, having quickly winked at the mirror of someone else's eyes. I walked from the nest to the side and without taking an egg, the people with their nourishment didn’t blaze me, I didn’t see the road butt. I told the dogs to get up and on the hump. There I am on the gray, until the stones were covered with zhovty lichens from above, and it was not cold. The birds, as only I have seen, have taken their stake, but I couldn’t follow them any longer. In the soul was born a triviality towards the proximity of unknown people. I’m already at a glance: lіtnіy, even more artistic, more often than not, spontaneously respectfully polite birds. It became easier for me, since I thought, but I changed directly and went to the little bit, de and sil on the stone, and also scam. It began to feel good for me to sit there the same as me, a ludin, reverently listening to the evening. When I was building, we miraculously came to one without any tears, and for all there was no word. Behind the underworld, I marveled, the yak of the bird rewind the red sleepy disc; marvelously roztashovyvalis at all my thoughts about the term of the earth and about such a short history of people; yak, however, it was all over soon.

The sun has gone. I looked around at my comrade, and I didn't get a lot of it. The birds were calm, obviously, they were on the nests. Todi, who rang the dogs, stealthily go back, I have become insensitive crocs and go to the nest: if I won’t give in, I thought, I’m pawing at the birds. For the bush, I knew for sure that there was a lot of nests, and even marveled at me, as I let me close the birds. Nareshty, I went to the bush and finished it off: for the bush, everything was empty. I poked the moss with a dollop: there were more warm eggs lying on a new warm egg.

I only marveled at the eggs, and birds, being afraid of the human eye, they were quick to get them.

high-melting

On the water, to tremble gold, a net of dormant bunnies. Dark blue grandmothers in the outlines and dyes of horsetail. And the dermal grandmother has its own horsetail yalinka or a reed: to fly and turn on it unevenly.

Ochmanili crows have brought their young and now sit, rest.

The leaflet that has been chosen, on the pavutintsi, descending to the river and the axis is spinning, the axis is spinning.

So I go quietly down the river to my chapel, and the chapel is more important than a leaf, folded from fifty two sticks and covered with canvas. A paddle to her one - dovga club, and on the tip of the blade. The skin of the spatula is zanuruєsh alternately from that chi іnshiy side. Such an easy chapel, no need for any kind of zusilla: poking water with a spatula, і choven plive, і so unpleasantly plive, so not to be afraid of ribs of nіtrohi.

Why, why don't you just bash, if you quietly go to such a chaplain according to your money!

The axis of the rook, shifting over the river, dropping into the water, and dropping into the water; In one mite near the rookery, I got out of the high-float spravojn_y bazaar. Having remembered the price, the great hizhak - riba-shellesper - fired and grabbed the water with its tail with such force, that when the high-melting point was thrown over to its stomachs. The stench would come to life through the chilin, ale shelesper is not a fool, I know that it’s not so often that you don’t trawl, but a drop of a drop and a style of fools crawl around one speck: grab one, grab one, - get a good drink, but forget there will be life, as in vcheni, and as from the top it’s a drop of good, it’s not good, there will be marvel at the insult, it wouldn’t come from the bottom of the filthy thing.

Who say grak

Give me a drink, as if I were in a hungry heart. Unadivya to me on the pidvikonnya lіtati zhovtorotiy young rook. Apparently an orphan bouv. And at that hour I had a lot of bears of Greek groats. I have been eating Greek porridge for the whole hour. Axis, buvalo, fly in a gaivoronnya, I will boil your groats and feed;

Do you want cakes, you fool?

Fly and fly. The day is so skinny, the whole month. I want to covet, for food my: "Do you want kashki, you fool?", Vin saying to bi: "I want."

And I will show you the wine only zhovtii nіs vіdkryє and show the red language.

Well, okay, - I got angry and abandoned science.

Until the fall, I had a meal with me. I crawl into the screen for cereals, and there is nothing. The axis of the villainous was cleaned out: half of the ochir of the bull on the tariltsi, and that was taken away. I was sleeping hungry. Spinning all over the place. Vrantsі in the mirror marveled, the person all became greener.

"Knock, knock!" - хтос in vіkonets.

On pidvikonnі grak dovbaє in sklo.

"Axis and meat!" - the thought came to me.

I wink up - and grab yo! And the strip is out of the tree. I'm in a bitch after him. Wine vishche. I'm lizu. Wine vishche and to the very top. I can't go there; even get hunted. Win, the rogue, marvel at me from above and seem:

Ho-che, porch-ki, do-rush-ka?

їzhak

Once I walked along the shore of our stream and started to respect the Yizhak. Vin might have reminded me, flaring up and tapping: knock-knock-knock. It looks a bit like a bulo, as if it would be far away from your car. I touched a new tip of the chobot - I was terribly pirnuv and piddav with my heads into the chobit.

Ah, so with me! - I said with a little bit of chobota, snatching it into a stream.

Mittyvo їzhak, turning in the water and flooding to the shore, like a little pig, only replace the stubble on the back of the boule heads. I took a stick, cattle with it a izhak in my droplets and ponis to the house.

Misha has a lot of bulo at me. I feel like catching, і virіshiv: don’t let me live with me and catch mysha.

So I bowed a prickly ball in the middle of the article and the writing, and at the very edge of my eye I am amazed at Yizhak. Not so good wine lying unruly: as only I was quiet at the table, I turned around, looked around, then tried it, here, vibrating my mind, and there it was absolutely quiet.

If it gets dark, I'll light the lamp, and - hello! - їzhachok vibіg z-pіd lіzhka. Win, slyly, thinking at the lamp, that there is a month of zyyshov in a fox: with a month of a zhaki, to love big on fox halavinks.

And so it was that I started to walk around the room, and it was so good that it was just a galyavin.

I picked up the phone, lit a cigarette, and let it go. It became like a call in a fox: і a month і gloomy, and my legs like a storm of trees і, melodiously, even befitting izhakov: win so and nishpor among them, smelling and smelling the backs of my heads with their heads.

After reading the newspaper, I let it in on the pidlog, went to bed and fell asleep.

I sleep very well. Too much rustling in my room. Striking with a syrnik, lighting the candle and only turning it on, yak, having cleared the bottom of the lid. And the newspaper was not lying on the table, but in the middle of the room. So I, when the candle is on fire, and I do not sleep myself, think about it:

"Now, did you know the newspaper?" Soon my bag vibig z-pid lіzhka - and right to the newspaper; twirling bilya of her, noises, noises, nareshti, contrived: I hoped it on the thorns of the crumples of the newspaper and sipping, majestic, into the kut.

Here I і zrazumіv yogo: the newspaper yomu bula yak in a dry leaf, pulling її sob for a nest. I, however, showed up, it is true: nezhak all wrapped up in a newspaper and shattered from her rightful nest. Having skipped the important right, I win viyshov because of his hustle and bustle, looking out at the little candle.

I let go of the gloom and feed:

What are you still needing? ЇThe scurvy is not angry.

Do you want Petey?

I got up. Ї

I took the tarilka, put it on the pidlog, brought it into the water and then pour it into the tarilka, then I know the will in the bucket, and so galasuu, not a little stream splashes.

Well go, idi. - I say. - Bachish, for you, I wiped a month, I let it go, and the axis of water ...

I am amazed: nibi tearing forward. And I can just stick it up to my lake. Win to ruin, and I will give, that is so and gone.

Pius, - I think the residual. Wine and lapped. And I so lightly on the thorns with my hand provіv, stroking nothing, I condemn everything:

Good ty malium, good! Having drunk їzhak, I say:

Let's sleep. Lig and blowing out the candle.

I don’t know, when I’m asleep, I can smell it: I know in my robot room.

I’ll light the candle, and what do you think? Zhachok run along the room, and on the thorns at the new apple. Arrived in the nest, sklava yogo there and after the others to go to the kut, and in the codend there was a little bear with apples and fell over. The axis їzhak pіdbіg, bursting close to the apples, falling and wandering again, on the thorns іnsche apple pulls into the nest.

So the axis і has been vlashtuvavshis in my life. And at the same time I, like a tea piti, inevitably go to myself on a glass and then pour milk into a saucer - vip'є, then I'll give buns - z'ist.

Golden meadow

With my brother, if we are ripe for sulbaby, it’s a lot of fun with them. Buvalo, ydemo go for your promise - win ahead, I'm in p'yatu.

Sergiy! - I will call yogo dilovito. Win your eyes, and I'll fuck you with a kulbaboy right in the face. For the price of wines, I will fix less money and maybe, like, you will be happy, fuknet. And so my ci nesikavi witnessed only for fun. A few times I went into the vision.

We lived in a village, in front of us there was a bouv meadow, all the golden kind of impotent quitty kulbabs. Tse bulo duge garneau. Everyone said: It's beautiful! The meadow is golden.

Once I got up early to woody ribu and respecting that the meadow is not golden, but green. If I turned around near noon to the house, the meadow would be all golden. I became sposterigati. Until the evening, the meadow is green again. Todi I pishov, know, kulbaba, і viyavilosya, wіn clenching his pelusts, as all one yakby you have fingers on the side of the valley bully zhovtі і, clenching into a fist, we shouted b zhovte. Vrantsi, if the sun has gone down, I bach, like a culbab, open my valleys, and this meadow has become golden again.

For the third time the kulbab became for us one of the most popular colors, so the spati kulbabs kicked at the same time with us, children, and at the same time they got up with us.

blue bast

Through our great forest to lead the highway with okremimy roads for passenger cars, for vantages, for transport and for pishohodiv. Infectious pooki for the whole shose only lis violated the corridor. Kindly wonder udovzh by viruses: two green walls and sky in kintsi. If they were virubal, then great trees were brought in, a small one - a rookie - was taken in a majestic buy. They wanted to take away the rookery for the scorched factory, but they didn’t fit in, and bought it for all the wide virgins, they were overwintered.

The guys scared, the hares were gone, and the guys tied the price of the hares on the virgin fox: they chopped, knocked, hummed and fluttered. If there is a fleck of powder and, according to the traces, it is possible to guess all the hares;

- The blue bast shoes lie all over the Grachevnika heaps.

Rodionicha, on the vidminu from all the mislers, calling the hare not "mow the devil", but rather "blue bast"; there is no wonder here: it’s not much alike for rice, but it’s not like bastard, but I’m sure it’s not a bastard. light, then I will say, well, even if the devil is not good.

The rumor about a hare before kupami mitt'vo obbig all our place, and on a weekday day, the mischief on the chola from Rodionich began to run down to me.

Early vrantsi, on the very svitanka, we went to the love without dogs: Rodionicha is such a master, more beautiful for every hound, when he gets a hare on a mislive. As soon as it became visible on the floor, it could be possible to see the footsteps of the hare, we took the rabbit's track, followed it, and, obviously, we were grafted to one buy a rookery, a high-rise, like our mid-season tree. Before the price of the bunch, they were guilty of lying for a while, and, having prepared the rushnits, they all became around.

“Come on,” they said to Rodionich.

- Vilaz, blue bast! - shouting out and thrusting my mace into the cupboard.

Not viscous. Rodionicha was astonished. And, thinking, with even more serious guises, looking at the skin of the house at the snig, obiysh the whole bunch, and again, according to the great number of obiyshov: nowhere is there a vague track.

- Here it is, - Rodionich said in a song. - Bet on miscy, lads, win here. Are you ready?

- Let's! - shouted mi.

- Vilaz, blue bast shoe! - shouting to Rodionich and three-chi striking down the rookery with such a great club, that the end of the day on the third side of the trochie without killing one young mischief-maker.

I axis - ni, not viscous!

There has never been such an embarrassment with our oldest slid in the life of Nicholas: it’s a matter of nibbling in an individual. With us, the suta went, the skin became, in its own way, forgiving zdogaduvatisya, in the mustache of his nose, here and there he walks along the snow and so, rubbing all the way, take away all the power of guessing the turn of the smart hare.

I axis, bachu, Rodionicha raptom zasyav, sil, grants, on a stump to a stump to a cigar and a morgue, an axis pidmorgu me and cliche to itself. Having noted the right, it is uncomfortable for everyone to go to Rodionich, but I will show me up, to the very top, buy a rookery with a high one.

- Wonder, - whisper vin, - blue bast shoes yak a piece of grain with us.

Not at once to a big picture of the way I got two black points - the eyes of the big one and more two small points - the black ones of the two black points. The head was washing off the rookery and turning the sides for the mischiefs: curly stench, thudi head.

Varto bulo me to take a rushnytsya - and it would be in one mite the life of a smart hare. Ale me has become a Skoda: there are not enough fools, they lie in bulk! ..

Rodionicha without tears in me. There is a small glomerulus in the winter when you see it, if you bought it on the other side, and, good luck, letting it go into a hare with a breast.

Nicholas I did not think that our wretched bunny-bilyak, as soon as in a raptom stand on a compartment, that a stribe up the hill for two arshini, that appears in the ashes of the sky, - well, our bunny can become a giant on a majestic skeleton!

And what happened to the misters? Zaєts aje falling from the sky right up to them. In one mint, everyone huddled behind the rushnitsi - it was easy to drive in something even more easily. Ale to the skin mister I wanted to beat it in before, and to the skin, slyly, vhopiv, call me not to try, but to go to the booth.

- Axis blue bast! - having said yomu vlіd Rodionicha burstingly.

Myslivtsi once again raised the hilnuti in the bushes.

- Killed! - shouted one, young, hot.

Ale raptom, like nibi in the opinion of the "killed", in the distant bushes having tailed the tail; tsey tail mislivets chomus zavzhdi nazyvayut quitkoyu.

The blue bast shoes are waving to the mislers from the distant bushes as soon as they are waving.