Translation from English

Once upon a time there lived an old pig called Aunt Pettitoes. She had eight children in her family: four little piggy girls. Their names were: Grumpy, Sweet, Laughing, Pestrushka.
And four little pig boys. Their names were: Alexander, Quiet, Chatterbox, Fat Man.
Fatty had an accident: his tail was damaged.
All eight little piglets had excellent appetites. "Oink oink oink! How they eat! Oh, how well they eat!” - said Aunt Pettitoes, looking at her children with pride.
One day a frightened squeal was heard: Alexander was caught in the hoops of a pork trough, and he could not get out on his own. Aunt Pettitoes and I pulled him out by his hind legs.
The chatterbox also disgraced himself once; It was bath day, and he ate a bar of soap. And in a basket with clean clothes we found a dirty little pig. "Well well! Wow! What it is?" - Aunt Pettitoes grumbled.
All piglets were pink or with black spots, and only one pig was constantly dirty, like a black man, no matter how much he was dumped in a battery of water. It was Laughter.
When I went to the garden, I saw Grumpy and Sweetheart there - they were digging up carrots. I whipped them and led them out of the garden by their ears. Grumpy tried to bite me.
“Auntie Pettitoes, Auntie Pettitoes! We respect you, but your children are not at all well-mannered. All of them, except Pestrushka and Tikhoni, are playing pranks.”
“Oink, oink!” sighed Aunt Pettitoes.
“They drink buckets full of milk. We need to look for another cow. Let obedient Pestrushka stay to help you with the housework, but the rest will have to be taken away. Four boy pigs and four girl pigs are too burdensome.”
“Oink, oink, oink,” said Aunt Pettitoes. “Without them there will be more food.”
And so it happened that Chatterbox and Slastena were put in a wheelbarrow, and Fatty, Laughter and Grumpy were put in a cart and sent out of the yard. The two remaining pig boys, Tikhonya and Alexander, were sent to the market. We cleaned their coats, curled their tails, washed their snouts and wished them a safe journey.
Aunt Pettitoes was wiping her eyes with a large handkerchief. She wiped Tikhon’s nose and cried, wiped Alexander’s nose and cried again. Then she gave the handkerchief to Pestrushka so that she, too, could wipe away her tears, sighed, grunted and said to her sons: “And now Tikhonya, dear son Tikhonya, you must go to the market. Take your brother Alexander by the hand. Don’t get your going out clothes dirty and don’t forget to blow your nose.”
(Aunt passed the handkerchief around again) “Beware of traps, chicken coops, scrambled eggs and bacon, and always walk on your hind legs.” Quiet, who was a calm little pig, looked longingly at his mother, and a tear rolled down his cheek.
Aunt Pettitoes turned to the other pig. “And now, Alexander, take your hand...” “Wee-wee-wee,” Alexander chuckled. “... Take your brother Quiet by the hand. It's time for you to go to the market." “Wee-wee-wee,” Alexander interrupted her again. “You're driving me crazy,” said Aunt Pettitoes.
“Look at the road signs and mileposts*. Don't swallow herring bones."
“And remember,” I said impressively, “once you cross the county line, you can’t go back. Alexander, you are not listening. Here are two licenses allowing two pigs to go to market in Lancashire. Please note, Alexander, I had a lot of trouble getting these papers from the policeman.”
The quiet one listened seriously, and the flighty Alexander fidgeted and giggled. For safety, I secured the papers in their vest pockets with pins, and Aunt Pettitoes gave each of them a small bundle and eight mints wrapped in the errand paper. And the piglets set off.
Tikhonya and Alexander ran without stopping for a whole mile. The quiet one got tired and stopped, Alexander then ran forward, then came back. He danced, pinched his brother and sang:
“This pig went to market, this pig
stayed at home,
This pig had a bit of meat-

This little pig went to the market
This little pig stayed at home
This pig has a lot of food...

“Let’s see what they put in for lunch, Quiet.”
Tikhonya and Alexander sat down and untied their bundles. Alexander devoured his lunch in the blink of an eye. He also ate all his mints.
“Give me one of your candies, Quiet.”
“I wanted to keep them for an emergency,” Quiet One said hesitantly. Alexander squealed and shook with laughter. He pricked Tikhony with his pin, which was pinned to his license: and when Tikhony spanked him, he dropped the pin and tried to take the pin from Tikhony. So they mixed up all the papers, and Tikhonya scolded Alexander. They folded the papers again and ran on, singing:

"Tom, Tom, the piper's son, stole a pig
and away he ran!
But all the tune that he could play,
was "Over the hills and far away"»

“Far, far over the hill.” **

“What is it, young gentlemen? Who stole the pig? Show your licenses,” the policeman said. The piglets almost ran into him as they turned the corner. The quiet man pulled out his paper, Alexander rummaged in his pocket and handed the policeman some crumpled piece of paper.
“Two and a half ounces of candied fruit for three pounds” – “What is that? This is not a license!
Alexander's nose stretched out. Has he lost his license?
“I had it, I really did, Mr. Policeman.”
“It is unlikely that you were released without a license. I’ll go past the farm now, you can come with me.”
“Do I have to go back too?!” – asked Tikhonya.
“I see no reason for this, sir. Your license is in good order."
Tikhon really didn’t want to go alone, and he burst into tears. But it would be unwise to argue with the police; he gave his brother a mint candy and stared after him for a long time.
At this point, Alexander’s adventures ended - accompanied by a policeman, the quiet Alexander returned home just in time for evening tea.
I leave Alexander with this; To be honest, for general peace of mind, it’s better for him to stay at home.
Dejected, Quiet continued on his way alone. He came to a crossroads with signs: City Market 5 miles, Up the Hills 4 miles, Pettitoes Farm 3 miles.
Quiet was upset. He was hoping to get some sleep at the market, because the hiring fair was starting tomorrow, and it was a shame that so much time was wasted because of Alexander's frivolity.
The quiet man looked thoughtfully at the road to the Hills, and obediently walked along another road to the market, fastening all the buttons on his coat so as not to get wet from the rain. He didn't want to go anywhere. The thought of putting himself out there at the market for everyone to see and then having some big unknown farmer hire him for a job was not pleasant to him.
“If only I had a garden where I could grow potatoes,” Tikhonia sighed.
He put his frozen hand in his pocket and felt for a paper, but when he put his other hand in another pocket, he felt for another paper - Alexander's license! The piglet squealed and ran as fast as he could, hoping to catch up with Alexander and the policeman.
But he took the wrong road - a few more turns and he got lost. The quiet one got scared and squealed: “Wee-wee-wee! I can't find my way home!
He wandered through the forest for a whole hour until he was able to get out of it. The moon was breaking through the clouds, and Tikhonya saw a completely unfamiliar area to him. The road went through moorland, below there was a valley through which a river flowed, and in the distance the hills could be seen in the fog.
He saw a small wooden shack, walked towards it and crawled inside.
“I’m afraid it’s a chicken coop, but what can I do?” - said Quiet, wet, cold and dead tired.
"Bacon and eggs! Bacon and eggs!" - the chicken cackled on the roost.
"Trap! Trap! Trap! Where - thah - thah! - the disturbed rooster shouted angrily.
"To the market! To the market! Jigiti - jig! - the hen sitting on the eggs cackled, sitting down on a perch next to the rooster.
Alarmed, Quiet decided to run away at dawn.
After a while, Tikhonya and all the hens fell asleep. Less than an hour later they were awakened. The owner, Mr. Peter Thomas Piperson, entered the chicken coop with a lantern and a basket to catch six poultry to take to market early in the morning.
He grabbed a white hen, which sat on a perch next to the rooster, and suddenly his gaze fell on Quiet, cowering in the corner.
He muttered a strange remark: “Oh, another one!” - grabbed the piglet by the scruff of the neck and threw it into the basket. Then he threw five dirty, clucking and squirming chickens on top of Quiet. The basket, which contained six hens and a young pig, was not very light, in addition, it was necessary to walk up a hill, and the basket shook and shook. Quiet, although he was scratched and pushed by chickens, he managed to hide his papers and mints in his clothes.
Finally the basket was placed on the floor, the lid was opened, and the pig was pulled out of the basket. He looked up, blinked, and saw an ugly old man grinning from ear to ear.
“I came myself, and with nothing,” said Mr. Piperson, turning out Tihonya’s pockets. He pushed the basket into the corner and threw a sack on it to keep the chickens quiet, put the pot on the fire and unlaced his boots.
The quiet man dragged a stool to the fire and sat down on the edge, timidly warming his hands.
Mr. Piperson pulled off his shoe and threw it against the wall at the far end of the kitchen.
Suddenly a muffled sound was heard.
“Shut up!” said Mr. Piperson. Quiet warmed his hands and began to watch him.
Mr. Piperson took off his other shoe and threw it in the same place as the first. The strange sound was heard again. “Will you shut up or not?” said Mr. Piperson. The quiet one slid to the very edge of the chair.
Mr. Piperson brought grains from the stall and began to cook porridge. Piglet thought that someone at the far end of the kitchen was showing a hidden interest in the cooking, but he was too hungry to pay attention to the various sounds.
Mr. Piperson filled three plates: for himself, for the pig and for someone else; looked suspiciously at Quiet, walked out, shuffling his feet, and locked himself in.
The quiet man ate his dinner carefully.
After dinner, Mr. Piperson checked something on the calendar and felt Tikhonia’s ribs: it was no longer the season to make bacon, and he felt sorry for his food. Besides, the chickens saw this pig. He looked at the remains of the smoked half of the pork carcass, and then turned his gaze to the pig.
“You can sleep on a mat,” said Mr. Peter Thomas Piperson.
Quiet slept without his hind legs. In the morning Mr. Piperson cooked more porridge and the weather was warmer. He looked at how much cereal was left in the chest and was dissatisfied.
“Are you going to move on?” – he asked Tikhonia.
But before Tikhonya could answer, a whistle was heard at the gate from a neighbor who lent him a vehicle for transporting chickens. Mr. Piperson ran off with the basket, ordering the pig to close the door behind him and to mind his own business; or “I’ll come back and skin you!” said Mr. Piperson.
It occurred to Piglet that if he asked for a ride too, he would be able to get to the market on time.
But he didn't trust Peter Thomas.
After the pig had breakfast, he decided to see what was going on in the house; but all the doors were locked. Behind the kitchen he found potato peelings in a bucket, ate all the peelings and began to wash the dishes after the porridge. He worked and sang:

"Tom with his pipe made such a noise,
He called up all the girls and boys –
And they all ran to hear him play
"Over the hills and far away."

Tom calls everyone together with his trumpet.
Boys and girls are running in a crowd.
They want to hear Tom play
“Far, far over the hill.”

Suddenly a muffled voice joined him:

"Over the hills and a great way off,
The wind shall blow my top knot off!

Quiet put down the plate he was washing and listened.
After waiting a little, the pig looked out the kitchen door into the hallway. There was no one there.
He listened again, went to the locked closet door and sniffed the keyhole. It was quiet in the closet. After waiting a little, the pig slipped a mint candy under the door. The lollipop immediately disappeared. During the day, the pig slipped the remaining six candies under the door, and they all disappeared.
When Mr. Piperson returned, Quiet was sitting in front of the fire. He cleaned the fireplace and set water to boil so he could cook food. Mr. Piperson was very friendly; he patted the pig on the back, cooked a lot of porridge and forgot to lock the food stall. He did not forget to close the door to the closet, but he forgot to lock it. He went to bed early, telling the pig not to disturb him until twelve o'clock tomorrow.
Quiet sat by the fire and ate his dinner. Suddenly, next to him, at a distance of an elbow, a quiet voice said: “My name is Pig-Wig. Could you give me some more porridge? Please!". The piglet jumped up and looked around.
An incredibly beautiful little Berkshire pig stood next to him and smiled. She had sparkling, deep-set eyes, a double chin and a short, upturned nose.
She pointed to Tikhoni's plate. He hurriedly handed her the plate, and he ran to the food stall.
"How did you get here?" – asked Tikhonya.
“They stole it,” answered Pig-Wig with her mouth full.
"For what?"
“Bacon, ham,” Pig-Wig answered cheerfully.
“Why don’t you run away?” – asked the frightened Quiet.
“I’ll run after dinner,” Pig-Wig answered readily.
Quiet put her some more porridge and watched shyly as she ate. She finished the second plate, stood up and looked around as if she was about to run away.
“How will you run in the dark? Have you seen where to run in daylight?”
“I know that from here you can see a small white house on a hill across the river. Where are you going, Mr. Piglet?”
"To the market. I have two licenses and I can take you with me to the bridge if you don’t mind,” said Quiet, sitting on the edge of a stool. Pig-Wig began to thank Tikhonya so ardently and ask so many questions that he became embarrassed.
He pretended to be asleep and closed his eyes. Pig-Wig became quiet. The smell of mint reached the piglet.
“I thought you ate them,” said Quiet, suddenly waking up.
“Only the edges,” answered Pig-Wig, examining the candies with interest in the light of the fireplace.
“I’m sorry, but they need to be removed. He can smell it through the ceiling,” said an alarmed Quiet One.
Pig-Wig put the sticky candies in her pocket.
“Sing something,” she asked.
“Sorry... but my tooth hurts,” Tikhonya said in fear.
“Then I will sing,” answered Pig-Wig. “Would you mind if I sang “iddy-tiddy-ti”? I forgot some words." Quiet didn't mind. He closed his eyes and watched her.
She shook her head, swayed and clapped her hands, singing in a low, sweet voice:

“A funny old mother pig lived in a
stye, and three little piggies had she;
(Ti idditty idditty) umph, umph,
umph! and the little pigs said, wee, wee!

There lived an old mother pig in the field,
Three pig children lived with her;
(Ti idditi idditi), -ampf!-ampf!
amph! and the piglets squealed: “eee!”

She sang three or four verses, only after each verse her head sank lower and lower, and her small sparkling eyes closed.

Those three little piggies grew peaky
and lean, and lean they might very
well be;
For somehow they couldn't say umph,
umph, umph! and they wouldn't
say wee, wee, wee!
For somehow they couldn't say-

“Three little pigs have grown thin,
And they could become big.
For some reason they couldn't speak amph-
amph-amph! And they didn't want to
squeal wee-wee-wee!”
"For some reason they couldn't talk..."

Pig-Wig's head drooped and drooped down until she herself fell, turning into a small ball, fast asleep on the rug. Quiet approached on tiptoe and covered it with a napkin.
He himself was afraid to fall asleep. For the rest of the night he listened to the crickets chirping and Mr. Piperson snoring upstairs.
Early in the morning at dawn, Quiet took his bundle and woke up Pig-Wig. She was excited and scared: “But it’s still dark! How will we find our way?
“The rooster was already crowing. We need to go out before the chickens, because the chickens can tell Mr. Piperson.”
Pig-Wig sat down and began to cry.
“Come on, Pig-Wig, when our eyes get used to the darkness, we will see the road. Let's go! I can already hear them cackling!”
Quiet never said “chick” to hens in his life, he was too peaceful; besides, he remembered the strong chicken legs in the basket.
He quietly opened the door and closed it just as silently. Mr. Piperson did not have a garden; all the space in the yard was occupied by poultry. Hand in hand, Quiet and Pig-Wig ran through Mr. Pipers' littered yard toward the road.
The sun began to rise, illuminating the tops of the hills. The sunlight sank lower and lower into peaceful green valleys, where small white houses stood in vegetable gardens and orchards.
“This is Westmoreland,” said Pig-Pig.
She released Tihonya’s hand and began to dance, singing:

"Tom, Tom, son of the piper Tom
He stole the pig and quickly ran away.
But he only knew how to play:
“Far, far over the hill.”

“Come on, Pig-wig. We have to get to the bridge before the people move."
“Why do you want to go to the hiring market, Quiet?”
“I don’t want to, I want to grow potatoes.”
“Would you like a lollipop?” - asked Pig-Wig.
Quiet angrily refused.
“Are you afraid of ruining your teeth?” – Pig-Wig did not lag behind.
The quiet man only grunted in response.
Pig-Wig put a mint candy in her mouth and walked to the opposite side of the road.
“Pig-wig, stay on this side, there’s a man plowing.”
Pig-Wig crossed the road again, and she and Quiet ran down the hill towards the county line.
Suddenly Quiet stopped; he heard the sound of wheels. Slowly shaking along the road, a merchant's cart was driving towards them. The reins hung over the sides of the horse, and the grocer himself was reading a newspaper.
“Take the lollipop out of your mouth, Pig-Wig. We may have to run. Don't say a word. Leave everything to me, and keep the bridge in sight all the time,” said poor Quiet, almost crying.
He began to limp horribly, holding Pig-Wig's hand.
The grocer was reading the newspaper so carefully that he might have passed by if his horse had not darted to the side and snorted. He pulled the reins and hit the horse with his whip.
"Hey, where are you going?"
Quiet stared at him indifferently, as if he didn’t hear.
“Are you deaf? Are you going to the market?
Quiet nodded slowly.
"I thought so. It was yesterday. Show me your license."
The quiet man stared at the back hoof of the grocer's horse, which had been hit by a stone. The grocer cracked his whip again.
“Papers? License? “The quiet man fumbled in his pockets for a long time and finally pulled out the papers. The grocer looked through the papers, but was still dissatisfied.
“This pig is a young lady; Is her name Alexander?
Pig-Wig opened her mouth, but when Quiet coughed, she immediately closed it.
The grocer ran his finger down the classified ad column in his newspaper: “Lost, Stolen or Strayed. 10 shilling reward." He looked suspiciously at Pig-Wig, stood up in his cart and whistled at the peasant who was walking into the field behind the plow.
“Wait here while I talk to him,” said the grocer, drawing on the reins. He knew that pigs were evasive, but a lame pig would not run far.
“It’s not Pig-Wig time yet, don’t look back.”
And the grocer looked back, he saw two pigs standing motionless on the road. Then he looked at his horse's hooves; his horse was lame. Some time passed before he pulled the stone out of the horse's hoof and reached the peasant.
“It’s time, Pig-Wig, now it’s time!” - said Quiet.
Never have pigs run as fast as these! They raced towards the bridge and squealed, their hooves clattering as they walked up the hill. The skirt of the little fat pig, Pig-Wig, was fluttering, and her legs were beating out a beat like a patter: “Peter-peter-peter”***, because she was skipping.
They ran and ran, over hill and moorland, over river pebbles and through reeds. They reached the river! They reached the bridge! They crossed the bridge holding hands!
And there, far beyond the hills, Pig-Wig danced with Quiet!

*Milepost – a post indicating the distance in miles.
** The word pig is also used to describe a pipe scraper.
"Over the hills and far away" - an old English soldier's song
from the time of Queen Anne (early 18th century), but there is also a later version dating back to the period of the Napoleonic Wars and which was something like the anthem of the famous 95th Fusiliers, which operated in Spain as part of the army of the Duke of Wellington.
***pitter – chirp, patter – speak in a patter.

In Slavic fairy tales, the most common animal that acts is the wolf. The intelligent behavior of a wolf pack, the cunning, intelligence and courage of gray predators have always inspired not only fear, but also respect. It is not for nothing that in ancient times there was a personal name - Wolf. It was believed that wolves do not destroy their victims completely, but choose only those who are doomed to death by Yegor the Brave, wolf shepherd, that is, a shepherd. This image merged with Yegor the Brave already in later Christian times. Our most ancient ancestors saw in wolf shepherd first of all, the ruler of the heavenly wolves, who, like hound dogs, participate with him in the wild hunt and rush across the skies. Descending to the ground wolf shepherd rides out on a wolf, cracking his whip, driving packs of wolves in front of him and threatening them with a club.

Sometimes he approaches villages in the guise of a gray-haired old man, but sometimes he himself turns into a wild beast - and then not a single shepherd can protect his flocks from him. In the forest, he calls the wolves to him and assigns each one his prey. Whoever it is - sheep, cow, pig, foal or man - he will not escape his fate, no matter how careful he is, because wolf shepherd as relentless as myself fate.

Proverbs also speak about this: “What the wolf has in its teeth, Yegory gave”, “The wolf catches the fatal sheep”, “A doomed animal is no longer a little animal.” That is why an animal crushed by a wolf was never eaten: after all, it was intended for the predator itself wolf shepherd…

According to folk tales, the wolf is the personification of a black cloud that stores the living water of rain. The concept of strength, health and beauty is inextricably linked with it, which is why the wolf sometimes acts as an assistant to the hero of legends. At the same time, the wolf is a cloud obscuring the sun, and in general the embodiment of darkness. “The wolf came (dark night) - all the people fell silent; the clear falcon (sun) flew up - all the people went!” - asks an old riddle.

There is even such a character from ancient legends - self-swallowing wolf. This is a wolf-cloud, a devourer of heavenly bodies. He lives on the sea-ocean (i.e. in the sky), his terrible mouth is ready to devour any opponent. Under the wolf’s tail is a bathhouse and the sea: if you evaporate in that bathhouse and swim in that sea, you will find eternal youth and beauty.

Sometimes even he himself turns into a wolf, according to the words of pagan antiquity. Perun, appearing on earth; sorcerers And witches tried to imitate the god of the Slavic gods. In one of the most ancient conspiracies, it is said that on the fabulous island of Buyan “in a hollow clearing the moon shines on an aspen stump, in a green forest, in a wide valley. A shaggy wolf walks near the stump, all the cattle are on his teeth...”

Repeated not only in Rus', but also among all Slavic and neighboring peoples, the tales of Ivan Tsarevich and the gray wolf even endow this predatory beast with wings. He flies faster than the wind, carries the gray prince on his back from one side of the white world to the other, helps him get the wonderful Firebird, the golden-maned horse and the beauty of all the beauties - the Tsar Maiden. This fabulous wolf speaks in a human voice and is gifted with extraordinary wisdom.

Why does a wolf - a thief and robber by his bestial nature - help a person in almost all legends and is even ready to sacrifice his life for him? We find here traces of the veneration of the wolf as a totem, a sacred ancestor, and patron of people from his tribe. That is why he is even able to get living and dead water and resurrect a dead hero, although this was beyond the power of an ordinary beast.

But over time, the veneration of the ancestor totem and the fear of the fierce beast diverged in different directions. The wolf became more of an enemy than a helper, and people found ways to protect themselves from it - both with the help of weapons and witchcraft...

From winter Nikola, people say, wolves begin to roam in packs through forests, fields and meadows, daring to attack even entire convoys. From this day until Epiphany there are wolf holidays. Only after the Epiphany blessing of water does their courage disappear.

According to the stories of coachmen, wolves are afraid of bells and fire. The underbell drives them away from the passerby: “The evil spirit senses that the baptized are coming!” - says an experienced person. In many villages, in order to protect livestock from wolves, which sneak up to the backyards at night in the winter, in the old days it was the custom to run around the outskirts with a bell in your hands, wailing while ringing: “There is an iron fence near the yard, so that no fierce beast gets through this fence, neither a bastard nor an evil person!” People who believe in the power of witchcraft say that if you throw a dried wolf's heart towards the wedding train, the newlyweds will live unhappily. In ancient times, wolf fur was considered one of the evil forces in the hands sorcerers.

(S. Maksimov)

Once a man was driving through the forest. It was during the day, in the summer. Suddenly he sees a wolf rushing at the sheep. The sheep got scared and rushed under the cart. The wolf also got scared and ran away. The man took the sheep and took it with him, drove five fathoms from that place, it became impossible to see anything - it was a dark night. He was amazed. He drove and drove, and he didn’t know where.

Suddenly he sees a light. “Ah,” he thinks, “these are apparently herd workers.” At least I’ll ask them where to go. He drives up and sees that the fire is lit, and all around there are wolves sitting and Yegor the Brave himself is with them. And one wolf sits on the side and clicks his teeth.

The man says that, like this, he’s lost, and I don’t know where to find the way. Yegory says to him:

Why, he says, did he take the sheep from the wolf?

Yes, she,” says the man, “rushed towards me.” I felt sorry for her.

What will the wolves feed on? You see, these ones are lying there, well-fed, and this one is hungry, clicking his teeth. I feed them; Everyone is happy, only one complains. Throw him a sheep, then I’ll show him the way. After all, this sheep was doomed to the wolf, so why did you take it away?

The man took the sheep and threw it to the wolves. As soon as I left, it became a clear day again, and I found my way home.

(D. Sadovnikov)

The bear originated from man, so he understands man's words. If you accidentally meet him in the forest and he chases you, tell him: “Old man, why do you want to offend me? If you are older than bread, offend, if not, move away.” And the bear will leave without doing any harm.

In the old days, a forester walked in the forest and caught a bear by the tail. The bear rushed. The man leaned against the Christmas tree. The bear rushed forward and tore off its tail, which remained in the hands of the forester. Since then, bears have been bobtailed.

(A. Burtsev)

According to popular legend, the bear was formerly a man, and this is proven by the fact that it can walk on its hind legs and has eyes similar to humans, that it loves honey, etc. The Ostyaks and other foreigners especially respect the bear, and pay great courtesy to its skin; so, if they kill a bear, they sing apologetic songs in front of the corpse because of the belief that the bear will be in the next world with them; so that there he does not take revenge on his killer.

(M. Zabylin)

Before the Great Flood, there were no cats on earth. They appeared in Noah's ark. When righteous Noah entered the ark with his family, except his wife, the rain began to pour like buckets. If only my wife could come in and lock herself, but for some reason she still didn’t want to come in. Noah called and called, but she did not listen. Finally, Noah lost patience and cursed her: “Go,” he said, “cursed.” Then his wife entered, but the devil also entered the ark with her. The water was rising. The ark floated. The devil in the ark began to think about how to destroy Noah with his family and animals. He entered the mouse, and this mouse began to gnaw a hole in the corner so that water could get into the ark. At this time, the tiger (in another version - a lion) snorted out of the cat's nose and this animal ate the mouse.

(A. Burtsev)

King Bird eagle is in the legends of the Russian people the personification of proud power, which, like a celestial star, is high and far away. Popular Russian legends attribute to the eagle the ability to devour a whole bull and three ovens of bread at once, and drink a whole tub of honey in one breath. But these same legends depict him as a hero-bird, breaking centuries-old oak trees into small pieces with his mighty chest. The king bird, in his formidable anger, can emit fire from his sharp beak, incinerating entire cities. The appearance of a soaring eagle over the army served as an omen of victory. According to an old belief, every eagle has a firestone hidden in its nest, which protects against all diseases. Hawk- the same breed as an eagle, but they steal beyond measure. Falcon enjoys incomparably greater honor in folk Rus', as a bird of a nobler disposition. The song is Russian and does not call him anything other than “young and clear falcon”, calling the handsome good fellows with the same name. Falcon eyes - keen eyes - “You can’t hide from a hawk’s eye!” - says the people, who know, from the stories of memorable people, that falconry in the old days was the favorite pastime of the Russian tsars and boyars. Swan with his white swan, in the eyes of the people, the storyteller and songwriter is the embodiment of beauty and portliness. “The swans carried the snow overseas on their wings!” - they say at the first snow. Goose" And " gray duck"are also familiar to the winged folk word. Lanky crane in Rus' is called a marsh commander, but - says an old proverb - “every sandpiper is great in his swamp!”

Crow- a bird of prophecy, lives, according to legend, up to three hundred years, and all because it feeds on carrion alone. He is a prototype of the wind - Stribozhy grandson - and, according to ancient legends, not only “brings a storm” on his black wings, but also “living and dead water.” The ravens have their own king, the raven, and he sits, as fairy tales say, in a nest built on seven oak trees. Magpie, the white-sided chirper, is reputed to be a thief bird and a “whistling, village babbling woman”, bringing all sorts of news on her tail. Cuckoo-a homeless woman who lays eggs in other people’s nests has always been considered a prophet: by her abrupt “cuckoo”, red girls know how many years they have left to live in the world. Owl, a night reveler, is called in common folk tales and sayings “an owl-widow, a reasonable little head, a forest lady, Ulyana Stepanovna.” Always and everywhere the concept of wisdom was connected with the idea of ​​it. Russian superstition forces her to guard treasures. Owl, “Sovkin’s brother-in-law,” the devil’s constant companion; owls- messengers of the latter.

(A. Korinfsky)

There is a bird that, flying in the dry season, plaintively chirps: “drink, drink” and begs to be given something to drink. People talk about her with condolences. When God created the earth and decided to fill it with seas, lakes and rivers, then He commanded heavy rain to fall; after the rain, God gathered all the birds and ordered them to help Him in his work: so that they would carry water to the places appointed by Him. All the birds obeyed God, but this unfortunate one did not; she said to God: “I don’t need lakes or rivers, I can drink on a pebble.” The Lord was angry with her and forbade her and her offspring from even approaching the lake, river and stream, and would allow her to quench her thirst only with the water that remained after the rain on uneven places and between stones. Since then, the poor bird, constantly annoying people, plaintively asks: “Drink, drink.”

(A. Tereshchenko)

This bird was formerly a woman and had children. She loved her children, but had no money for them. So she began to look for the treasure to make the children happy. She heard that a treasure was buried in such and such a forest, and she went to look for it with her children. I searched for a long time, didn’t find it, and lost my children. For this God turned her into a bird pigalitsa. Since then, she has been flying, looking for her children, and if she sees people, she asks them: “Whose are you?”

(A. Burtsev)

Some people claim that swallows fly to the sky in winter, while others claim that they hide in wells or lakes in winter, their legs linked to each other.

In whose house a swallow builds a nest, that house is called gracious. If someone takes a heart out of a swallow and carries it with him, he will be loved by everyone, especially by women.

(A. Tereshchenko)

In the old days, it was believed that a snake or a lizard should definitely live in the house - for greater profit. Killing these reptiles was considered a sin, and if you destroy a snake’s nest, it will take revenge.

Due to the fact that, like all snakes, it renews its skin annually, it was considered immortal. Sometimes he was called snake king, describing his skin of wonderful beauty and diamond aureole. If you begin to chase a snake, it whistles, and then a host of snakes and snakes rush to its defense, then woe to the offender! Sometimes it is believed that he wears not a crown, but golden horns. When meeting him in the forest, you should put a red scarf or belt on the road: when he sees the red color, he drops his golden horns, and whoever manages to capture them will have access to all the treasures. They also say that these horns must be buried under two oak trees that have not yet blossomed: one oak will dry up, and the other will be covered with greenery; one horn is unhappy, deadening, and the other is happy, reviving.

In popular views it is contrasted with other snakes - they believed that he drives them away. Killing a snake was considered a sin because it was blessed by God for having once plugged with its head the hole gnawed in Noah's Ark by a mouse. For this, God gave the snake a golden crown; in memory of him there were yellow spots on his head. They believed that during a thunderstorm, Ilya the Thunderer kills all evil spirits, except those that manage to turn into God’s chosen ones, a bee or a snake.

(A. Afanasyev)

According to Russian belief, the bees originally came from a horse that was beaten by a watery grandfather and thrown into a swamp; the fishermen threw a seine into the swamp and pulled out a swarm of bees; From this swarm, bees multiplied all over the world. By setting up an apiary, the beekeeper, for the success of his business, condemns the waterman to the best hive; sometimes he drowns this hive in a swamp, and sometimes he leaves it in an apiary: in the first case, the water one multiplies the bees and gives an abundance of honeycombs, and in the latter, he protects the establishment from any harm.

An apocryphal conversation between three saints speaks of the creation of bees from a calf: “God appeared in Trinity to Abraham, and slaughtered the calf for Abraham to eat, and from the blood of the calf the bees were as white as snow.” The water grandfather is actually the raining thunderer; horse and bull (Taurus) are zoomorphic personifications of clouds, blood is a metaphor for rain, bees are lightning. The light-winged bee, endowed by nature with a sharp sting, resembled flying and striking lightning with these signs: in the regional dialect the sting is called gigolo(from the word burn; burner - candle); she endows mortals with sweet honeycombs - just as lightning brings down the heavenly honey of rain to the earth. A swarm of bees settling on a house, according to the ancients, foreshadowed a fire. In the noise of a summer thunderstorm, one could hear the buzzing of lightning bees swarming in the clouds and collecting honey in blooming cloud gardens. We find a comparison of a buzzing swarm with a thundercloud in Virgil.

In order for bees to be fruitful and multiply, in Rus' they keep in apiaries a piece of copper broken from a church bell; It’s best, the healers say, if this piece is knocked off the bell on the first day of Easter, during the ringing for matins. The ringing, as we have seen, is taken as the emblem of thunder. Just as heavenly lightning bees begin to swarm in the spring, at the sound of a thunder bell, so they began to believe that the brass sound that sounded on Easter Sunday must certainly help the happy swarming of ordinary bees. The following ritual has the same meaning: on the Annunciation, Palm or Easter Sunday, beekeepers come to their apiaries between matins and mass, strike a fire from the “thunder arrow” and, lighting incense, fumigate the hives with the pronouncement of a spell for the fertility of bees; The candle is also lit with the same fire in front of the icon of the Solovetsky saints Zosima and Savvaty, who, according to legend, were the first to spread beekeeping on Russian soil. The conspiracy consists of prayer appeals to Zosima, Savvaty and Archangel Michael.

(A. Afanasyev)

At the beginning of the creation of the world, the hornet, the wasp and the bumblebee had honey, just like the bee. Now neither the hornet nor the wasp has any honey at all, but the bumblebee has it only for itself. This has been the case since the hornet, the wasp and the bumblebee deceived the Lord and did not give him honey. It happened like this: the Lord, having created the world, went to look at the life of animals. He met a hornet and asked him for honey. “I don’t have honey,” said the hornet. “Even if you don’t have it,” said the Lord. Then the Lord met a wasp, and the same thing happened again. After the wasp I met a bumblebee and asked him for honey. Bumblebee said that he has honey only for himself. “Let you have honey only for yourself,” said the Lord. Finally I met a bee. The bee said that she has a lot of honey for herself and for people. And she gave honey to the Lord with joy. “May you have a lot of honey for yourself and for people,” said the Lord. And so it became.

The main character of Tolstoy’s story “The Bird,” the boy Seryozha, was given a bird-catching net by his uncle for his birthday. Serezha’s mother did not approve of such a gift, but the boy really wanted to catch the bird. When he caught a siskin, his mother asked to release the bird into the wild, but Seryozha left it in a cage. And although the boy promised to take care of the siskin, on the third day he forgot to change the water and food in the cage.

When the mother reminded the boy that the bird needed to be looked after, the boy did everything necessary, but forgot to close the cage. Siskin broke free. He flew towards the window, but hit the glass hard and fell. Seryozha carried the wounded bird into the cage and began to cry. Mom told him that there was nothing he could do to help the little siskin. By morning the bird died, and Seryozha never caught birds again.

This is the summary of the story.

The main idea of ​​Tolstoy’s story “The Bird” is that birds and animals cannot be deprived of their freedom for fun. Living beings born free must live in freedom.

The story “Bird” teaches you to always take care of your pets. Seryozha, without listening to his mother, left the siskin in the cage, and soon stopped caring for him. First he forgot to change the bird's water, then he left the cage open. As a result, the bird died. For Seryozha, the death of the bird became a lesson for life.

In Tolstoy's story, I liked Seryozha's mother. She immediately did not approve of the gift of a bird net. Later, she persuaded the boy to release the caught siskin. And when the boy left the bird in the cage, she reminded her son that he should take care of the siskin. If Seryozha had listened to his mother’s opinion, the bird would have remained alive.

What proverbs fit the story “Bird”?

A bird's will is more valuable than a golden cage.
The bird is red with its feather, and the man with his mind.
You can't grow turnips without care.

People have kept pets for a long time. Initially, our smaller brothers were kept for various purposes (home protection, hunting, etc.), but over time it became common for people to keep ornamental animals.

In ancient times, poultry was a decoration for the palaces and castles of noble people.

They delighted with their diversity, fervor and wonderful voice. The fashion for decorative birds has survived to this day.

When looking for poultry and looking at their photos and names, you can’t help but notice finches. These interesting birds are quite popular and are often kept at home.
It is quite easy to distinguish females from males, since finches have developed sexual dimorphism. Males have a reddish chest, and their head and neck are decorated with bluish plumage in the warm season. Females have a discreet color - brownish-green.
Finches quickly get used to people and become tame.

Canaries

These birds are valued for their great singing. If you are not annoyed by loud trills, you can safely purchase a canary. Moreover, the bird will delight its owners not only with its clear voice, but also with the color of its plumage. Today there are species of canaries of various colors.

Important! In canaries, only males sing.

This feathered singer does not need a large cage, and they quickly get used to humans. However, you should not force your company on them; they have a great time alone.
Canaries are unpretentious and have one peculiarity - they love to swim. If it is not possible to add food and clean the cage every day, then the water for bathing should always be fresh.

You can let this pet fly around the room, but it is worth remembering that there are many dangers in the room for a small canary.
Kenars are ideal pet birds for.

You can feed them regular grain bird food, adding natural products to it: chopped boiled egg, cottage cheese and grated egg. It will also be useful to give a little crushed chalk.

Did you know? They learned about canaries in Russia in the 17th century from Tyrolean merchants. People fell in love with jellied trills, and birds began to be bred at home.

The most popular parrot that gets along well with humans. Aratingas received this name due to the bright color of their feathers. The main tone is fiery yellow, and the intensity of the color depends on the species.
The cage for the aratinga should be spacious so that when the parrot flaps, it does not damage its wings. To make the bird feel comfortable, it is advisable to arrange a small nest in the cage, and for entertainment, place perches, swings, mirrors and toys.

It is also worth remembering that these birds very sensitive to drafts and temperature changes.
Under natural conditions, these parrots feed on plant foods - seeds, fruits, etc. At home, their diet can be varied and given boiled eggs and sprouts. Under no circumstances should you give your aratinga salt, avocado or oil.

The main disadvantage of the aratinga is its loud voice. Therefore, it is not recommended to keep them in groups.

If you are interested in what birds can be kept in a cage at home, but are not yet ready to get a large parrot, pay attention to the Amazons. They can chat quite well (almost like a Gray), but at the same time less touchy and more affectionate.
Amazons are quite easy to train, and they adapt well to new conditions and any environment. Like many parrots, they love to swim.

Due to the fact that Amazons have a rather strong beak, the cages for their maintenance must be all-metal.
The diet of these birds should contain grain, but it can be given in limited quantities. Amazons also need fruits and greens.

Important! The male and female are colored the same, so it is quite difficult to distinguish them.

A fairly large South American parrot with a powerful beak. Due to its bright color it is popular.
The cage for a macaw should be spacious, it must be equipped with objects that the parrot will split with its beak.
The diet should include:

• fruits;

These birds will always delight the eye with their diversity. They will not talk, but they are sociable and funny.
Lovebirds are better keep in pairs, so they will need a spacious cage. Since these birds are big fidgets, the cage must be equipped with toys, perches and mirrors.
You can feed with a regular grain mixture, adding fresh herbs and.

These birds become companions of their owners for life, as they are long-lived. Cockatoos live in captivity 50 and even 80 years.

A distinctive feature of this parrot is its colorful crest, which rises when alarmed or excited.
If you like silence, then you should remember that the cockatoo is a noisy bird that loves to talk and scream. The cockatoo has great intelligence, and such a bird needs to be raised from childhood, otherwise it will tire the family with its assertiveness and bite painfully.

In order for the bird to maintain its beak in order, the cage must contain branches, twigs and solid food (for example,).
Many representatives of this species love to swim and take showers with pleasure.

The larger the cockatoo, the larger its beak, which is why they got their second name - “flying biters”. Therefore, before purchasing, think about whether your home is ready for such a pet.

“If, as they say every now and then, my son, my daughter, young people do not like to read, there is no need to blame either the TV, or modernity, or school for this.” “Who? “You ask, and most importantly, what to do in this case?” In his book Like a Novel, Daniel Pennac generously shares techniques that are as simple as they are effective. A teacher, Pennac brilliantly implemented these methods in school and taught his students a love of reading. A writer, he made the whole world read and love his books.

How Semaga was caught Maxim Gorky

First published in the Samara Newspaper, 1895, number 250, November 19, under the title “About how Semaga was caught. Sketch." M. Gorky intended to include the story in the third volume of “Essays and Stories”, in connection with which at the beginning of 1899 he wrote to the publisher S. Dorovatovsky: “Do you have Semaga?” And I was looking for him. Yes, it can be put in a book, it seems” (A.M. Gorky Archive). But the story was not included in the book. The story was also not included in the collected works. Published from a surviving clipping from the Samara Newspaper with corrections made by M. Gorky (A.M. Gorky Archive).

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