3 piggy story
English | The Three Little Pigs
The Three Little Pigs
Mrs Pig was very tired: 'Oh dear,' she said to her three little pigs, 'I can’t do this work anymore, I’m afraid you must leave home and make your own way in the world.' So the three little pigs set off.
The first little pig met a man carrying a bundle of straw.
'Excuse me,' said the first little pig politely. 'Would you please sell some of your straw so I can make a house?'
The man readily agreed and the first little pig went off to find a good place to build his house.
The other little pigs carried on along the road and, soon, they met a man carrying a bundle of sticks.
'Excuse me,' said the little pig politely. 'Would you please sell me some sticks so I can build a house?'
The man readily agreed and the little pig said goodbye to his brother.
The third little pig didn’t think much of their ideas:
'I’m going to build myself a much bigger, better, stronger house,' he thought, and he carried off down the road until he met a man with a cart load of bricks.
'Excuse me,' said the third little pig, as politely as his mother had taught him. 'Please can you sell me some bricks so I can build a house?'
'Of course,' said the man. 'Where would you like me to unload them?'
The third little pig looked around and saw a nice patch of ground under a tree.
'Over there,' he pointed.
They all set to work and by nighttime the house of straw and the house of sticks were built but the house of bricks was only just beginning to rise above the ground. The first and second little pigs laughed, they thought their brother was really silly having to work so hard when they had finished.
However, a few days later the brick house was completed and looked very smartwith shiny windows, a neat little chimney and a shiny knocker on the door.
One starlit night, soon after they had settled in, a wolf came out looking for food.
By the light of the moon he espied the first little pig’s house of straw and he sidled up to the door and called:
'Little pig, little pig, let me come in.'
'No, no, by the hair of my chinny chin chin!' replied the little pig.
'Then I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house in!' said the wolf who was a very big, bad, and a greedy sort of wolf.
And he huffed, and he puffed and blew the house in. But the little pig ran away as fast as his trotters could carry him and went to the second little pig’s house to hide.
The next night the wolf was even hungrier and he saw the house of sticks. He crept up to the door and called:
'Little pig, little pig, let me come in.'
'Oh no, not by the hair on my chinny chin chin!' said the second little pig, as the first little pig hid trembling under the stairs.
'Then I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house in!' said the wolf.
And he huffed, and he puffed and he blew the house in. But the little pigs ran away as fast as their trotters could carry them and went to the third little pig’s house to hide.
'What did I tell you?' said the third little pig. 'It’s important to build houses properly.' But he welcomed them in and they all settled down for the rest of the night.
The following night the wolf was even hungrier and feeling bigger and badder than ever.
Prowling around, he came to the third little pig’s house. He crept up to the door and called:
'Little pig, little pig, let me come in.'
'Oh no, not by the hair on my chinny chin chin!' said the third little pig, while the first and the second little pigs hid trembling under the stairs.
'Then I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house in!' said the wolf.
And he huffed, and he puffed and he blew but nothing happened.
So he huffed and he puffed and he blew again, even harder, but still nothing happened. The brick house stood firm.
The wolf was very angry and getting even bigger and even badder by the minute.
'I’m going to eat you all,' he growled, 'just you wait and see.'
He prowled round the house trying to find a way in. The little pigs trembled when they saw his big eyes peering through the window. Then they heard a scrambling sound.
'Quick, quick!' said the third little pig. 'He’s climbing the tree. I think he’s going to come down the chimney.'
The three little pigs got the biggest pan they had, and filled it full of water and put it on the fire to boil. All the time they could hear the sound of the wolf climbing the tree and then walking along the roof.
The little pigs held their breath. The wolf was coming down the chimney.
Nearer and nearer he came until, with a tremendous splash, he landed in the pan of water.
'Yoweeeee!' he screamed, and shot back up the chimney thinking his tail was on fire.
The Three Little Pigs - Storynory
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Almost everyone knows the story of The Three Little Pigs – but it’s one of those stories that you can hear again and again. Our audio is based on the version of Joseph Jacobs – in which the wolf huffs and puffs and the pigs exclaim by the hairs of their chiny chin chins.
Read by Natasha. Duration 9.21
There was once a family of pigs. The mother pig was very poor, and so she sent her three little pigs out to seek their fortunes. The first that went off met a man with a bundle of straw, and said to him:
“Please, man, give me that straw to build me a house.
”
Which the man did, and the little pig built a house with it. Presently came along a wolf, and knocked at the door, and said:
“Little pig, little pig, let me come in.”
To which the pig answered:
“No, no, by the hair of my chiny chin chin.”
The wolf then answered to that:
“Then I’ll huff, and I’ll puff, and I’ll blow your house in.”
So he huffed, and he puffed, and he blew his house in, and ate up the little pig.
The second little pig met a man with a bundle of furze, and said:
“Please, man, give me that furze to build a house.”
Which the man did, and the pig built his house. Then along came the wolf, and said:
“Little pig, little pig, let me come in.”
“No, no, by the hair of my chiny chin chin.”
“Then I’ll puff, and I’ll huff, and I’ll blow your house in.”
So he huffed, and he puffed, and he puffed, and he huffed, and at last he blew the house down, and he ate up the little pig.
The third little pig met a man with a load of bricks, and said:
“Please, man, give me those bricks to build a house with.
”
So the man gave him the bricks, and he built his house with them. So the wolf came, as he did to the other little pigs, and said:
“Little pig, little pig, let me come in.”
“No, no, by the hair of my chiny chin chin.”
“Then I’ll huff, and I’ll puff, and I’ll blow your house in.”
Well, he huffed, and he puffed, and he huffed and he puffed, and he puffed and huffed; but he could not get the house down. When he found that he could not, with all his huffing and puffing, blow the house down, he said:
“Little pig, I know where there is a nice field of turnips.”
“Where?” said the little pig.
“Oh, in Mr Smith’s Home-field, and if you will be ready tomorrow morning I will call for you, and we will go together, and get some for dinner.”
“Very well,” said the little pig, “I will be ready. What time do you mean to go?”
“Oh, at six o’clock.”
Well, the little pig got up at five, and got the turnips before the wolf came (which he did about six) and who said:
“Little Pig, are you ready?”
The little pig said: “Ready! I have been and come back again, and got a nice potful for dinner.
”
The wolf felt very angry at this, but thought that he would be up to the little pig somehow or other, so he said:
“Little pig, I know where there is a nice apple-tree.”
“Where?” said the pig.
“Down at Merry-garden,” replied the wolf, “and if you will not deceive me I will come for you, at five o’clock tomorrow and get some apples.”
Well, the little pig bustled up the next morning at four o’clock, and went off for the apples, hoping to get back before the wolf came; but he had further to go, and had to climb the tree, so that just as he was coming down from it, he saw the wolf coming, which, as you may suppose, frightened him very much. When the wolf came up he said:
“Little pig, what! Are you here before me? Are they nice apples?”
“Yes, very,” said the little pig. “I will throw you down one.”
And he threw it so far, that, while the wolf was gone to pick it up, the little pig jumped down and ran home. The next day the wolf came again, and said to the little pig:
“Little pig, there is a fair at Shanklin this afternoon, will you go?”
“Oh yes,” said the pig, “I will go; what time shall you be ready?”
“At three,” said the wolf.
So the little pig went off before the time as usual, and got to the fair, and bought a butter-churn, which he was going home with, when he saw the wolf coming. Then he could not tell what to do. So he got into the churn to hide, and by so doing turned it round, and it rolled down the hill with the pig in it, which frightened the wolf so much, that he ran home without going to the fair. He went to the little pig’s house, and told him how frightened he had been by a great round thing which came down the hill past him. Then the little pig said:
“Hah, I frightened you, then. I had been to the fair and bought a butter-churn, and when I saw you, I got into it, and rolled down the hill.”
Then the wolf was very angry indeed, and declared he would eat up the little pig, and that he would get down the chimney after him. When the little pig saw what he was about, he hung on the pot full of water, and made up a blazing fire, and, just as the wolf was coming down, took off the cover, and in fell the wolf; so the little pig put on the cover again in an instant, boiled him up, and ate him for supper, and lived happy ever afterwards.
Once upon a time when pigs spoke rhyme
And monkeys chewed tobacco,
And hens took snuff to make them tough,
And ducks went quack, quack, quack, O!
Read online “A Pig’s Story, or the Adventures of Ryukha and Tapa”, Andrey Gennadyevich Petrik – LitRes
Preface
Once Zhvanetsky, whom we met in the Crimea, asked me with sadness in his voice: “Tell me, but Have you written at least one fairy tale in your life?” I confessed to him just as sadly: “No…” “So, you and I are not real writers. The real one should write at least one fairy tale. Here, even Leo Tolstoy wrote fairy tales, although he was so serious, ”said Zhvanetsky.
The word “fairy tale” is very precise in Russian. It has two parts: “skaz” - that which is said, and the ending - “ka”, which meant “soul”. It turns out - "spiritual tale". And until now in Russian this animating “ka” is added to the names: Mishka, Lenka ... Note that this is not in other languages.
It is especially important not to forget that there are not only folk tales, but also modern ones written by kind people.
It is to such tales that “The Adventures of Tapa and Ryuha” belong. It would seem that a fairy tale about animals. No. It is about you and me. Why write about animals? Because animals are kinder than people. They never fight, never kill for oil and profit. Scoundrels, hypocrites and traitors, they also never happen. I have a familiar hunter, about whom my father said: “Of course, he is kind! He grew up among the animals…”
In ancient times, animals brought from Africa to the Roman Colosseum for the amusement of the public did not want to fight among themselves. They simply did not understand what they wanted from them. They had absolutely no hatred for each other. And only when they began to feed them with “human food” and periodically beat them with sticks, they awakened the aggression that is so characteristic of people.
The author of “Tapa and Ryuha” came up with cute, “Cheburashka-style” charming characters that I definitely like. But most of all I like that the fairy tale is written with humor.
Or rather, with a sense of humor so subtle that those who were brought up by television may not notice it ...
Mikhail Zadornov
Chapter 1
In one dense, but not at all terrible forest, Lisa Lipa lived. She lived in a cozy hut inherited from her grandmother.
It should be noted that Lisa was reputed to be an amazingly clean person. Her main weakness was lace doilies, which she dragged into the house from wherever she could. Washed, starched and ironed, they lay on the table, on all the shelves and window sills.
Everywhere you look, everything was sparkling clean.
In the evenings, a friend, Gray Wolf, came to Lipa. Actually, his name was Serezha. But it just so happened in the forest - Gray, yes Gray, and then he himself got used to it. Friends liked to drink linden tea with bagels and chat before going to bed.
Despite the name, the tea was real and even very tasty. Although not from linden. And it was called so in honor of the fox, who prepared it herself from some special herbs.
One spring evening, Lisa, as usual, put on the samovar. Gray, in anticipation of a treat, thoughtfully drew small pigs on a snow-white napkin. Gradually, this occupation captured him. With zeal, he stuck out his tongue and tilted his head to the side. The pigs got bigger and bigger. The latter came out especially like the real one, and Gray shouted joyfully:
– Wow! Look, Lipa, how it turned out!
The fox, looking at the picture, wailed:
– Father! Yes, what is it! You screwed up my whole napkin! It would be better if he went to chop wood if his paws itch!
- My paws are not bored! I'm bored in the head!
- It is correct to say "my paws" and "my head".
- Okay, okay! Your paws and your head,” Wolf agreed.
– You are so dense, Sergey! That way I'm with you, that's what I'm going wild. What books would be better to read than to rush through the forest for days on end.
- No matter how many books I read, I did not meet new letters! Seriously though, I'm reading! Wolf began to make excuses.
– What can you read there? I haven’t seen you with a book since I was born.
– This… Like her… Zoology! In!
- And what did you subtract?
- And in terms of zoology, you and I turn out to be the same. Uh-uh… milk-feeding predators,” the Wolf uttered a difficult word syllable by syllable, with an emphasis on “yu” for some reason. I have a great-great-grandmother hanging around the Empress's neck.
– Great, great, great, – muttered the wolf under his breath and, having taken a sip of tea, noticed, – I’m not talking about what you’re talking about, I’m talking about the fact that maybe we are in vain… well, on milk, in general . I want something, I want something else...
- Well, I started an old song, - said Lipa reproachfully. - Forgot? Times are different now. You will have to answer for the most overwhelmed chicken in front of the whole forest.
The friends poured more tea and in silence set to the bagels, which suddenly began to seem tasteless.
.. The conversation did not go well, and after sitting a little longer, they said goodbye.
All the way home, upset, Sergei was gloomy and did not even pay attention to the moon. At night, he dreamed of fat chickens chasing him and wanting to eat him.
When Lipa was clearing the table, a napkin with drawings caught her eye. The fox looked at them for a long time and thought about something. She fell asleep only in the morning, and when she woke up and barely managed the housework, she went to the Wolf.
Chapter 2
A note hung over the Wolf's lair:
“ I'll be home when I return ".
The fox froze in thought. Suddenly there was a sound overhead: "Ku-ku." Lipa looked up:
- Oh, it's you!.. Did you see the wolf?
- I need your wolf! - answered the cuckoo. - For that you want, I'll tell you how much he has left to live? And at the same time, you too...
She had already cuckooed for the first time, when a stick, aptly thrown by Lipa, rustled very close by.
The cuckoo urgently flew to a tall spruce and from there continued its gloomy predictions.
Fox and Cuckoo didn't get along for a long time. One day, a cunning Raccoon, who missed scrambled eggs, built a fake nest in a tree, in which the cuckoo immediately laid eggs. On this occasion, Lipa said that she had a smarter cuckoo clock in her house. In response, the cuckoo began to call names, and they quarreled to the nines.
Thinking that now it's too high to reach the cuckoo, Lipa went in search of the Wolf.
Finding the Wolf was not an easy task. He was constantly running around. I just couldn't sit still. Even when visiting Lipa, Sergei, after sitting a little on one stool, jumped up, walked around the hut and sat down on another. Then he moved again, now to the bench.
– Will you stop flickering? Lipa used to shout. - In the eyes already ripples!
The wolf claimed that it was hereditary.
Lipa was walking through the forest, wondering where she could carry the Wolf this time, but found him unexpectedly soon - in the nearest birch grove.
Lounging in a clearing and basking under the first warm rays of the sun, Gray drank birch sap, which was a great hunter.
“Hello,” he greeted the Fox sleepily, without even making an attempt to get up. - Will you have juice?
- Great, great! Stop drinking juice! It's all swollen! Come on, we'd better get down to business," Lisa said sternly.
Nevertheless, she took a glass, poured herself some juice and drank it in one gulp. She had a bite of dried chanterelle, extended by the Wolf, and continued:
- You know, Seryoga, I was thinking about our conversation here. And here's what I decided. What do you think we need to be happy?
The wolf looked: there was still plenty of juice and chanterelles.
– Can we… sing it?
Lipa waved her hand angrily.
- No! What do we lack in life?
Wolf thought about it, but nothing came to mind. Closing his eyes, he struggled to imagine his happiness, until, finally, the impatient Lipa leaned towards him and whispered loudly:0005
- We don't have enough pigs! Ordinary pig!
Choking on juice, Gray stared at his girlfriend.
- Huh? BUT? BUT?
He was speechless from surprise. Drowsiness and lethargy vanished as if by hand. He stared at Lipa with uncomprehending eyes, such as anyone who has been unexpectedly awakened usually has.
- Don't fuss, look how everything has taken you apart! You should use your juice less! Listen carefully. I've already thought of everything. So yes. Where are pigs found?
– In the pigsty, – responded the stunned Wolf
– Oh, bastard-ah… – the Fox sighed, – remember! Pigs are found in the market! But!
Lipa raised her paw importantly.
- A pig is an expensive thing. And just like that, no one will give it to us. There is only one thing left. Exchange.
Remembering his lair, the Wolf grunted skeptically: there was nothing to change in it, except for the remains of grandfather's wadded sheepskin coat, which served as a bed. Lipa, meanwhile, continued businesslike:
- Last time I shed heavily. She combed a lot of wool.
I will tie downy scarves. There will be fox scarves from Orenburg. And what is it invented?! We will change them.
- Great!
- And you need to ask the Beaver to build a pen for the pig. So that evil animals from the distant forest do not devour it. Let's feed for the winter, as it should, so that it is fat ...
- To have more fat, - picked up the Wolf, - and ... and ...
- And ... Christmas! Lisa finished.
Both fell silent, feeling their mouths fill with saliva. Lipa was the first to wake up:
- So this is how: I will tie scarves, and you, Seryozhenka, will catch fish for exchange.
– You give me that fish again! Enough! Got it for life! Wolf frowned and touched his tail.
This was a sore point.
- Fairy tales should have been read!
- Come on, these fairy tales! For some reason, I'm always a fool in them.
- So you are smart with us?
- And I'm normal with us, - the wolf was completely offended.
- All right, Sergey, don't get excited. With whom it doesn’t happen, - Lisa said conciliatoryly. "Let's go, we'd better get to work."
“Work won’t run away into the forest…” the Wolf began in a singsong voice out of habit, but under the Fox’s stern look he jumped up and said, “Of course, of course, if you have to, then you have to!” I understand. ... But how to catch it, fish, then? I have no worms, no fishing rod ...
“You won’t be able to handle a fishing rod in a week,” Lipa rubbed her forehead.
- That's it, try to kill the fish!
- Silence? How? Voice?
- What other voice? It is necessary to drag more hefty stones to the cliff above the river and then dump them. The fish will go deaf, you look, and float up, and then you will collect it. Got it?
“Uh-huh,” said Sergey, who had already begun to figure out how he could arrange all this better, because, despite his shortcomings, he was a very responsible wolf.
They parted, and each went about his business.
Chapter 3
Sergei was already heading for the river, but then he remembered his last fishing trip again, and doubts overcame him. He rushed back in pursuit of Lisa and shouted from a distance:
- Lipa, wait, Lipa, aren't you kidding? - And, catching his breath, he clarified: - well, about the fact that the fish will go deaf, and in general ...
The fox was indignant:
- What jokes can there be? No joke now! They started a great deed, but you doubt, you don’t believe ... Well, if you want, we can ask Aglaya. By the way, it's close.
The wolf wanted to and nodded his head in agreement.
The Prophetic Fish Aglaya lived alone in a small deep lake among centuries-old fir trees. She was very old, even ancient, and no one in the forest started important business without consulting with the Thing Fish. Everyone knew: Aglaya knows everything! Only Aglaya herself did not know about this. However, this did not prevent her from enjoying the gifts that birds and animals brought with them.
Aglaya constantly grew and her fame grew with her. They tried not to disturb the respected Pisces over trifles, and therefore it turned out that Sergey had never seen her before. When they came to the lake, the Fox chose a dry place and leaned over the water, peering into the dark depths. The wolf stared diligently beside her, imitating her.
- Well? he asked breathlessly, “what can you see?
- Nothing! Probably, the Fish will not come up without feeding, that is, without a gift! And we are also good - we did not guess to take anything!
Sergey handed Lipa a bag of chanterelles.
- Would it fit?
The fox poured the mushrooms into the water, and both of them froze in anticipation. In less than a minute, the chanterelles suddenly began to disappear in small whirlpools. Hungry for the winter, Aglaya dealt with them in an instant and swam to the shore.
- What are you waiting for, Lipa? - Sergei nudged Lisa in the side with his elbow. - Ask, ask, otherwise he will sink!
Lipa knew that the main thing in communicating with things Fish is a correctly asked question, and therefore she asked like this:
- We decided to buy a pig in the market and feed it! Really, great idea? What do you think, venerable Aglaya?
Aglaya opened her mouth, patted her lips, but for some reason didn't say anything, wagged her tail and disappeared into the depths.
- Oh, how great! - Lipa exclaimed joyfully, - everything is fine, everything will work out for us!
- Why? The fish didn't say anything...
– Don't you know that silence is a sign of consent? Here the Fish was silent! Saw? Did you see how silent?
- Yeah, Sergey agreed, calmed down and cheered up, - she was silent with terrible force ... You, Lipa, don't be angry with me! I just wanted to make sure... Well, I'll run to the river!
“Come on, come on,” Lisa hurried. - The sun is already quite high, and we have not done anything yet! Wait a minute, what are you going to put the catch into? Come to me, I'll give you buckets!
Suddenly, a loud cough was heard, and Beaver Boris himself appeared in the clearing.
- Oh, Boris! - the Wolf and the Fox shouted in one voice. - We need you!
- Everyone needs me, but I have a cold! Beaver wrinkled his nose. - What a nasty flu this year, it doesn’t go away! Were you sick too?
- We didn't get sick.
We didn't know, said the Wolf.
And Lisa asked:
– Borya, do you have free time? We urgently need to build a pen, that is, a fence, in the yard, and we will not remain in debt!
“Only idlers and lazybones have free time,” Boris said sternly and looked at Sergei, who immediately stepped back behind Lisa. - And what was the corral needed for?
The fox hesitated. She really did not want to dedicate her plans to anyone.
- Yes to us for this ... to us this ...
- To us for fictus! We will plant fictuses! - Wolf suddenly blurted out and depicted something large and incomprehensible in the air with his paws.
- Fictuses?! Boris looked up thoughtfully. - Well, well, fictus is a good thing. It seems that my aunt was going to grow them, but she did not get seedlings.
The fox instantly realized and groaned:
– Oh, it’s hard, oh, it’s hard to get seedlings, and what if there’s still a crop failure, and suddenly it will beat with rain or the sun will burn.
But if they grow up, we won't forget you and your aunt!
“Yes, I don’t need it, I’d like it for my aunt ...” said Boris, now firmly convinced that his beloved aunt had been looking for fictus seedlings for so many years and to no avail.
- So we agreed, - Lipa summed up, - you give us a little fence, and we give you these ... as they are ...
“Fik-too-sy,” prompted Sergey, who was bursting with pride that he had thought of everything so well.
The beaver looked at the sun and said:
- Let's go to you, Fox, show me where to put the fence. It doesn’t matter to me in that direction, and there is, I think, a little work there.
Boris walked resolutely towards Lisa's hut. Lipa and Sergei follow him.
- Well? Like me? BUT? - Sergei whispered in Fox's ear so that Beaver did not hear.
Lipa, who told Sergei every day that illiteracy and lack of ingenuity would ruin him, nodded vaguely, put her paw to her lips and pointed to Boris walking ahead.
The wolf obediently calmed down and continued to walk in silence, from time to time shaking his fist and making joyfully victorious faces. Soon they came to the fox hut.
Chapter 4
In the fox yard, Beaver and Linden began to determine the place for the pen. The wolf spun around: either he was measuring something that he alone could understand with long strides, then, screwing up one eye, he looked along his outstretched paw.
- Sergey! Lisa called out sternly. - Why are you still here? Quickly took buckets and fish!
Gray grabbed buckets in the hallway and moved to the river, annoyed that, as always, he would miss the most interesting. But the mood was still good, and grief was instantly forgotten. Cheerfully rattling buckets, he went to the river. On the left, the Bear Mountain went into the water by a cliff, which was named so because bears settled next to it from time immemorial.
In the sun by the water, Sergei was exhausted. It became very good and lazy, but it was time to get down to business.
There were enough stones on the shore. Sergei chose a larger cobblestone, dug it out of the sand and dragged it up the mountain. But he did not reach the top. The slope here became almost sheer, and at the very top of the mountain a huge raspberry bush managed to grow, the same bush, because of which the Bear had fallen into the river last summer. He tried to get to the raspberries, but could not keep his balance. The wolf looked at the river shining below and decided: “Nothing, it’s fine from here too!”
Groaning from the weight, he dragged a decent pile of stones and began to think about how best to bomb: one at a time, or push them all at once, and then how to collect the fish that float up? If it pops up, of course.
Downstream, just behind the mountain, there was a large sandbank. And the approach to it was convenient.
- I will collect there! Sergei decided. - And so that after each stone you don’t dangle back and forth - you have to throw everything at once!
The wolf tried on, pulled himself up, but suddenly there was a loud crack behind him.
Gray turned around and saw the Bear, which fell out of the thicket onto the river bank.
The bear, although striking in size, was thin and shaggy. In a word, it is not at all the Bear, which was accompanied by the whole forest to hibernation. The friends rushed to each other, embraced and began to pat each other on the back, and the Bear did it much better.
- Well? How are you, Misha? Did you get enough sleep?
- Looks like it. I'm just thinking with difficulty.
- Actually, you always...
– What am I always? Bear didn't understand.
- I say you are brave! – Gray shook his head towards the top. -Vona, what a twist for the sake of a lousy raspberry! If this is timidity, what is it then?
- That is - that is, - the flattered Bear agreed and looked intently at the bush.
- But he could have climbed! If I had been as thin as I am now, I would definitely have climbed.
- Of course, I would climb, - Sergey agreed.
But then he remembered the fish swimming upside down around the bear when it was taken out of the river. The wolf fell silent, trying to catch the elusive thought, and suddenly, unexpectedly for himself, blurted out:0005
– Or maybe he didn’t make it…
– How did you not make it?! I wouldn't make it? So I'm going right now! - the Bear started up.
- Look, you didn't make it... You yourself didn't make it!
The cries of a hurt bear were already coming from above. He was not visible from where the Wolf stood.
– Where have you gone?! What for? Raspberries are out now! Come back! I already know that you would climb!
Sergei sincerely worried about Mikhalych. But on the other hand, it was terribly interesting, will it still climb or not?
- I'm already where I failed last time! – a satisfied voice was heard.
"Bumpy!!!" – came from below.
- And he is not at all as thin as he seems, - Wolf managed to identify by ear, rushing to the rescue.
Chapter 5
The fox was still knitting the first scarf, when the Beaver peeked into the hut, sniffing:
–Mistress, get to work!
Lipa hurried to the yard. The corral turned out just wonderful. Exactly the way she imagined it to herself: log to log and with a small gate.
Lipa turned to the Beaver:
– Here you are, you are so pleased! Thank you, Borya! I will not remain in debt!
- Like it - well, okay, - answered the Beaver. - When will you pay for the work?
- Come on the first of September. Not earlier, - said the Fox, and thought to herself, - it’s far from autumn, I’ll think of something!
She said goodbye to the Beaver and began to clean up the chips with sawdust, and when she cleaned up, she left the yard to throw out the garbage. At that moment, from behind the fir trees, on the path leading to the fox's house, a strange couple appeared. A wet, disheveled Bear walked ahead with a wooden gait. Buckets of fish swayed in his splayed paws.
Behind him, dancing, the happy Sergey hurried, clutching a huge pike under his arm.
But the most incomprehensible thing in all this was that the Wolf gave commands in a loud voice, which the Bear obediently carried out.
- Accept to the left! Where are you going?! Stand! I told someone to stand! yelled Gray.
The Bear, guided by the Wolf, caught up with Lipa and froze as if rooted to the spot.
“Hello, Mishenka…” Lisa began and stopped.
Bear's glassy eyes looked through her, and his lips whispered something unintelligible. The fox, although she leaned closer, was able to make out only one word - “didn’t make it.”
- What about Mikhalych? Lipa turned to Sergei.
- How do I know? He probably hasn't woken up yet. It's no joke - sleep through the whole winter!
- Why is it wet?
- Wet because it's wet! The wolf averted his eyes.
- Sergey, quickly tell me how it was!
Gray realized that for the time being, praise for the caught fish is not to be expected.
He sighed and began:
- So that's it. I drown my fish, I drown in a small way ... with stones, as you ordered. And here is this one. And immediately climbed the mountain and fell ... into the river. And I caught him, on the rocks. Here, to you now I lead, to dry.
- You say you climbed yourself? Did you give him buckets so that he would dry out sooner?
- Gave and gave. Stop nitpicking, Lipa! - Sergey said and, wanting to change the subject, continued, - you better tell me how, in your opinion, such a huge fish was caught? Well, the smaller one, of course, went deaf, but this one, this one!
He shook the pike.
“Probably a direct hit,” Fox quipped. - You would have been hit on the head by a bear - probably, it would also have surfaced! Well it is necessary to think of such a thing, a bear - to jam the fish!
Sergey whined:
– Well, Lipa, enough! I'm already ashamed with all my might!
- Okay, more on that later.
The fox looked at Mikhalych.
He still stood like a pillar, never letting go of the paws.
- Command the Bear to go into the house, he needs to be treated.
– Maybe so far?
– How, right? - Lisa did not understand
- Well, let the day be like this. We have to carry fish to the fair tomorrow. Let him help, and cure him later.
– Sergey! Are you really such a dumbass or are you pretending to be? Misha urgently needs to be saved! So come on, clean the fish, and I'll go and put the Bear to sleep.
The wolf immediately whined:
– Well, that’s it… If I had known what to clean, I wouldn’t have caught so many. Or maybe, Lipa, you can clean it, and I...
- Will you go and knit scarves?
Sergei sighed doomedly, took the fish from the Bear and trudged to the shed.
- Narvi behind the nettle house to shift the fish when you clean it, and take the knife and salt in the kitchen! - Fox shouted after him and led Mikhalych into the hut.
After placing the unresponsive Bear on the bed, the Fox rushed to prepare the medicine.
She put down the samovar and climbed to get the cherished herbs that she kept on the top shelf in the entrance hall. The samovar boiled quickly, and when everything was brewed properly, the Bear was drunk and put to bed, and Lipa began to knit scarves. A good two hours had passed when there was a rustle in the passage, and the Wolf burst into the hut, all in fish scales.
Lipa! he shouted, “come on for tea!” Passion, how thirsty after fish!
– So do you eat or clean fish? Lisa asked calmly. - And do not yell, please, you will wake Mikhalych!
Cleaning, cleaning, of course, cleaning! Gray assured. Well, I eat a little. I need to check what I caught there.
At this time, the Bear, awakened by the conversation, sat up on the bed, slowly opened his eyes and saw Sergey, covered with scales from nose to tail.
- Who is this? Mikhalych asked sternly. - Sea wolf? Sea wolves, as well as river bears, must certainly ...
No one found out what and to whom the sea wolves and river bears owed, because Lipa, seeing that Mikhalych had not yet recovered, deftly threw the remnants of the medicine into his mouth and slammed it shut, pressing her lower jaw with her paw.
The bear sat for a while longer, as if tasting the medicine, then slowly fell back on the pillows and in a minute was already snoring loudly.
- Well, here it is! said Lipa. - Now, when he wakes up, he will be like a cucumber!
- Same green? Wolf was genuinely surprised.
“Fresh,” the Fox explained and added, “and you, “sea wolf,” go outside and clean yourself properly!” Only the scales in my house were not enough! When you're done with the fish, clean everything up there, and then we'll drink some tea... then lively discussion.
- Hi, Seryoga! - Mikhalych barked joyfully. - And then Lipa tells me that you are going to the fair, so I'm with you!
Gray realized that the Bear, thank God, does not remember anything, and he began with relief:
- Yes, we want to at the fair ...
- We want to sell fish and handkerchiefs at the fair! Lisa warned him.
There was no need for the Bear to know why they were actually going to the fair.
And Sergey obediently agreed
- Well, yes, well, yes, a fish in a handkerchief, that is, fish handkerchiefs!
“You are busy with small things,” Mikhalych said condescendingly. - I have a big idea! Sweeping! Not like yours! It's like: we bears, just give it to the paws, and we can handle it!
– What a beast, such are his deeds! - the Fox sang slyly.
“You hold on to me, I’ll teach you,” the flattered Mikhalych said complacently and turned to Sergey.
“Thank you very much,” Wolf blurted out a phrase he remembered from somewhere.
Now he knew that when Mikhalych broke up, it would be better not to argue with him. They chatted a little more about this and that, and the Wolf and the Bear went home to rest, and agreed to meet early in the morning at the Fox.
Chapter 6
Gray woke up when it was just beginning to get light. He chose a place where the grass near the lair was thicker, and began to wash himself with dew. And not for romance.
It's just that he never got a washbasin, and he didn't want to run to the stream. It was time to go to Lisa. Stretching, Gray went out onto the path, yawned heartily, and remained standing with his mouth open: because of the trees and fog, something incomprehensibly terrible was advancing onto the path. Not only was it huge, it was almost square, and it breathed hoarsely. In truth, Sergei was not a coward, but just in case, dodging, he ran away and stopped, listening intently. The worst guesses came true. Terrible sounds were clearly approaching, which means that the square needed exactly him - Sergey. There was nothing to think about, it was necessary to run. And the Wolf ran with all his might. He flew, almost not touching the ground, bumping into trees and bushes that suddenly appeared from the fog. He jumped over the fence of the fox yard without even noticing, and desperately pounded on the door of the hut. As soon as the Fox opened the door, the Wolf rushed inside, almost knocking down the taken aback hostess.
- Shut up! Close soon!
With these words, he slammed the door himself, locked it with a key, and then with a bolt. For greater reliability, he leaned on the door with his shoulder and, turning to Lipa, exhaled:
- Horrible ...
- Sergey, what happened? Lisa asked.
- They are chasing me!
- Who is chasing? You explain well.
- I just got out, and then it seemed like something from behind a tree! And now it's chasing me, huge and square... I don't know what exactly! Never seen anything like it!
“So,” the Fox thought for a moment, “you have encountered an incomprehensible phenomenon.
- Yeah, and very scary, - Wolf confirmed.
– You just need to calm down and figure everything out, because any phenomenon can be explained somehow.
- To whom to explain, square? Gray exclaimed sadly. - Explain to the rake that you can not wallow on the road!
Volk sighed heavily and looked frowningly at Lisa.
- You, Lipa, forgive me if something is wrong.
And if I offended you, I'm sorry too.
A crackling sound from the street silenced him. Lipa rushed to the window and saw how something large and actually square was breaking through the gate, which obviously couldn't fit through. The creature repeated its attempt once more, and then Lipa, although it was frightening, could not stand it. Pushing Sergei away, she ran out into the yard and, putting her paws on her hips, yelled menacingly:
“Where are you going, idol?! Just break my wicket! I'll bend all the corners for you in an instant! Take your legs while you're still intact!
The fact that the square has legs, Lisa actually strongly doubted. And then the square voice of the Bear said:
- Where am I going? I need to see you ... But I won’t get through the gate.
– Mikhalych, is that you? A voice came from behind Lisa.
Lipa turned around and saw Sergei, who, clutching an ax in his paws, cautiously peered out of the passage.
- Me, who else?
- Why are you.
.. And what are you...
- I have the picture. I'll trade it at the fair! Did you see how big it is? It won't even go through the gate!
- You turn sideways and go ahead! Lipa advised. - It'll get through.
- If I turn sideways and go forward, - began the Bear, - it will turn out that I will go along the fence, but I need to ...
- Stay there, - the Fox interrupted him. “Now we’ll get together and come to you.”
- You see, - she said to Sergey, - any incomprehensible phenomenon...
- This is a Bear with a picture! Sergey finished for her.
The fox laughed:
– Okay, okay, put the ax back and take the fish.
A minute later everyone gathered together: Bear with a picture, Fox with scarves and Wolf with fish.
“Let’s sit down on the path,” said the Fox.
Sergei immediately landed on the path with alacrity. Despite the fact that he had to carry buckets of nothing, he breathed heavily.
“Lipa, listen,” the Wolf whispered, “oh, they are heavy.
Here, their Mikhalych is a crazy pen, but I won’t be able to do it before the fair.
- Quiet! Lisa said. - I'm just thinking about it.
- Stop sitting around! - the Bear gave a voice here. - What are you whispering about?
- Now let's go, Mishenka! It's just that Sergei and I argued about who of us is the strongest and most enduring, - Lipa said innocently.
“What is there to think about?” The bear drew himself up and squared his shoulders. - The strongest is me! And that means the most enduring!
- Then, Misha, take buckets of fish and let's go.
- Ah... ah... - The bear tried to figure out how it happened that he was loaded with fish, - but what about the picture? After all, my paws will be busy.
“We’ll tie a picture on your back,” Gray joined in. - Wow she is what you have!
– Who, painting?
- No, back! Now I'll bring the rope!
He returned unexpectedly quickly, and Lipa asked suspiciously:
– Where did you get the rope?
- There .
.. behind the house.
- Behind the house?
- Don't worry, Lipa, I hung all the linen in the bushes, it won't get dirty!
- If it gets dirty - you will overwash! Lisa promised.
She looked at the lightened sky and said:
– We must hurry, otherwise we will be late.
The painting was put on the Bear's back, a bucket of fish was put into his spread paws and set off.
Chapter 7
The forest is finally over. The sun had already risen and it was beginning to bake, not like spring hot. Ahead, as far as the eye could see, stretched a country road. The first was the Bear, loaded to the limit and from this clubfoot more than usual. Lipa and Sergey hurried after them. From time to time, Sergei overtook the Bear, squatted, looked into his eyes, clicked his tongue sympathetically and asked:
- What is it, brother, is it hard? Be patient, it won't be long. Look, what a deal - we all endure.
Having done his duty, he returned to Lipa and began to tell something.
Listening to Sergeyev's chatter with half an ear, the Fox looked with interest at the picture that the Bear was dragging.
The painting was striking in its size. It was so huge that only the tips of the Bear's lower paws and the swinging buckets on the sides looked out from behind it. The peeling gilded frame of bog oak mercilessly beat the porter on the heels. Almost the entire surface of the canvas was occupied by a dirty blue spot, on which incomprehensible white blots stood out convexly. The edges of the picture were generously painted over with poisonous green, and at the bottom there was an ornate inscription, which, despite all her efforts, Lipa could not make out. What was depicted in the picture also remained a mystery to her.
Pig's story... - Kirill Andreevich Saikin. Point of view. - Law News
"The older brother raised the younger one to feed the family"... Have you provided a headline somewhere on the site? Take aback and horror ... And this, meanwhile, is the reality of village life.
Considering that the animals are our smaller brothers.
And now the oil painting. The piglet was frail, weak, and Mishka grew it almost from a pipette. Babysitting like with a small child. I would just snuggle up. He recovered, having received a proud name - Borka ...
The life span of a pig and a hog in a village is a maximum of one year. If it is a sow or a boar - a producer - three. Further, the pigs have only one way - under the knife and on cutlets. Therefore, cute pink piglets do not cause delight attacks. You take care of them, because this is the future meat. because the quality of your diet depends on the quality of care. This is the eternal whirlwind of village life, because the same fate awaits bulls, and heifers - with rare exceptions. They have a lifespan of 3 years. However, others are handed over and slaughtered at the age of two years. Of the artiodactyls, you really become attached only to a cow. Nurse, smart lady, cow ... her lifespan is 9calving, that is, 14 years.
If the owner is zealous, the fact is that after the seventh calving, the cow reduces milk. It is reasonable to replace it with a more milky one...
Such is the unwritten law of village life. They take care of the cattle, take care of it, but ... do not become attached. She is the future food. But Mishan violated this law. And Borka grew tame. He adored the owner and as soon as he stepped over the gate of the flock, he fell on his side. Mishan scratched his grubby side and grumbled:
- Well, the boar fell apart, fell apart ... Look, it's good for you, but how am I going to stab you, Boris?
This is indeed a question. However, when the wife, who was watching this picture, asked her husband about the same, he cheerfully answered:
- Why not stab him? He scratched his side and stick a knife in. You don’t even need to fill up, he will fall.
He even showed me where and how to stick it. Borka grunted quite a bit... the fool.
No one doubted that it would be like this, scratch and stick.
Mishka, an experienced hunter, and moreover, his half of the village was calling for cattle to be slaughtered. After all, this is a kind of art - to score an animal so that it does not suffer too much. With one hit. The bear knew how to do it. In general, he is a typical brutal, this Mishka without unnecessary sentimentality is a man, a master, a breadwinner and a breadwinner.
Pig's day in the village - November 7th from ancient times. And not in honor of the Great October. It's just that earlier this day was supposed to be a long day off, the frosts have already hit - and it's time for freshness. Fresh - this is the name of a kind of festival of fresh meat. Because even a pig to score is a whole process, a very long one. In the morning, a bathhouse is heated, because a lot of water will be required to process a pig. In short, after slaughter, the pig's hair is singeed with a gas burner or a blowtorch, poured with boiling water, scraped with knives, watered again and scraped - already to white skin.
Well, have you seen the skin on the fat? Agree, it would not be entirely appetizing if this skin were slightly shaggy ... This process takes at least three to four hours. What if two pigs are slaughtered at once?
As soon as the pork carcass is butchered, the hostess immediately receives a piece of meat on the table. And then there are her fantasies. Usually they cook a very simple and satisfying - meat with potatoes - stewed, fried. But, the meat per day is fresh in the pan more than potatoes. Fresh is still a holiday and they are waiting for it with joy. I understand now the cry of all aesthetes and nature lovers. How can you celebrate the slaughter of a living being??? But you try to look at it from the perspective of a villager. He followed this beast for a year. A year in manure and labors. And here is the result - a good hundred of delicious meat without any chemical additives. And how can you not rejoice.
This year Mishka had a long wait for fresh food. November passed.
The owner had no time. December passed. Mishan found one thing, then another ... Time was rapidly rolling towards the New Year. But Borka was still grunting happily. And the owner still scratched his side. And chatted about something in the evening.
The holiday was celebrated with beef.
In February, his wife already made an extremely rare scandal in Misha's family:
-Do you think with your head? - She advanced, - Where are you going to store the meat? Now it's warming up. So what? Well, look at the boar already under two hundred kilograms. The meat is gone! While it's cold - come on if! How much beef can you eat?
Mishka understood all the pragmatism of his wife's arguments, but not cats, but at least a couple of lions scraped in his soul, tearing his suddenly emaciated soul to shreds.
But on the weekend, Mishka finally made up his mind. In the morning, having sentenced a white bottle to one, he took up the knife. And I must say that Mishka didn’t kill cattle in a drunken case .
.. After that, yes. I allowed myself "manenechko". He didn't drink much at all.
But he took the knife, and his wife heated the bathhouse. Dishes for liver, intestines - for black pudding, internal fat, prepared. I put oilcloth on the table in senki under the meat ... I even got potatoes.
And she kept waiting for Borka's last shrill squeal. But there was no squeal...
She rarely interfered in her husband's affairs, saving herself without knowing it, the patriarchal way of life of the family. But after three hours she could not stand it and went to the flock. The husband slept drunk in a drobodan, next to him faithfully warmed his friend Borka. And both were quite good.
Somehow pushing her husband aside, she finally brought him home. Realizing that tomorrow there will be no freshness either.
The husband could hardly move his legs, practically hanging on the fragile shoulder of his wife, and complained:
-You don't understand a damn thing, stupid, it's Borka, it's a friend.
.. I can't... I can't.
-Let's hire ringers? - offered his wife
- I'll hire them, - Mishka threatened with his fist - It's a friend...
And Borka's friend grunted joyfully in the flock for another month. The wife grew gloomy, imagining that her friend eats two buckets of feed a day. And it's been gold for a long time.
And in the spring Mishka went to the taiga to check the traps for the last sable of the season. Been awake for three days. And when he returned, the first thing he saw in the senks was the head of the unfortunate Borka and pieces of meat. The wife still hired kolshchikov. The bear turned gray in the face, somehow froze strangely and swayed in the doorway - from heel to toe, from heel to toe.
“Mish…” the wife began plaintively.
- You go away for now, go away... - Mishan growled.
And in the morning, he flatly refused borscht with rich pork, and said:
-Find buyers, give me meat at least five kopecks, so that he doesn't annoy my eyes there.
