Stone flower is very brief. Review of the fairy tale by P.P. Bazhov “Stone flower

Title: stone flower

The writer Pavel Petrovich Bazhov has a happy fate. He was born on January 27, 1879 in the Urals in the family of a worker at the Sysert plant. Thanks to chance and his abilities, he got the opportunity to learn. He graduated from college, then the Perm seminary. He taught for eighteen years. He happily married his student and became the head of a large family with seven children. He accepted the October Revolution as an opportunity to end social inequality, fought in the Civil War on the side of the Reds, became a journalist and then an editor, wrote books on the history of the Urals, collected folklore records. He always worked hard, as they would say in Soviet times, he was an "ordinary worker." And suddenly, as they say, overnight fame came to him, and even what ... In 1936, his first tale "Azovka the Girl" was published in the magazine. In 1939, the first collection of short stories, The Malachite Box, was published at Swedlgiz. In 1942 and 1944, The Malachite Box, noticeably stouter, was published in Moscow by central publishing houses. He became a laureate of the State Prize, was awarded the Order of Lenin for literary work. In 1944, The Malachite Box was translated into English and published in London and New York, then in Prague, and in 1947 in Paris. Translated into German, Hungarian, Romanian, Chinese, Japanese. In total, according to the library. Lenin - into 100 languages ​​of the world. Much more has been written about Bazhov's work than he himself wrote. For a long time, critics argued among themselves what kind of phenomenon "this Bazhov" is - a folklorist, writer, local historian, historian? And contemporaries wrote: “Bazhov immersed living Russian people into the magical world of old Ural tales, and they defeated the conventions of fairy-tale magic with their real, earthly power. As the earthly love of a simple Russian girl defeated the magical power of the Mistress of the Copper Mountain” ... I re-read (tales), truly enjoying the richness of fiction, the coherence of tales, and the sweet-sounding Russian language ... "A. Surkov. "With the wish of a creative mood and peace of mind, your constant admirer" ... Igor Grabar. "To the owner of the magic Malachite box from the enchanted Fyodor Gladkov." "... To the best, most real of all that I "got" in the Urals" Lev Kassil. "To the author of The Malachite Box, who discovered the secret of creating a fairy tale, kept secret for thousands of years. There are not many discoveries equal in value to yours. Thank you for this from one of those to whom the fairy tale is close and dear…" Dmitry Nagishkin. “Bazhov brought us, in the guise of a tale, the grandeur of high simplicity, love for one land, the glorification of labor, the pride and honor of the working man, and fidelity to duty. Chastity. Restlessness of searches and aspirations. Persistence. The spirit of the times ... "Evgeny Permyak. Bazhov himself assessed his work more than modestly. He answered all the praises in his address in the same way: "Saying good words to an individual, one must not forget that behind him is something huge that is called a worker folklore. Do not forget that I am only a performer, and the main creator is a worker. But in reality, Bazhov was just lucky: he grew up in such conditions, in a place where there was a large accumulation of folklore plexuses. He had a privileged position. "He always shivered from praise addressed to him and tried to immediately remove them either as a joke or by transferring the conversation to another topic. "Thank you very much for the photos and the pleasant letter. For wishes. In a word, for everything except the final compliment, - he wrote, - this is superfluous. We journalists have to do without it. Still, we know that anyone who is not lazy can do a thing with good material, if given time. The stories of our old workers, as you know, are of rare quality. And my task here is only to ensure that I do not deviate from the folk in the presentation and emphasize those points that are entertaining for the modern reader. Time and labor, of course, are required, but talking about giftedness is unnecessary and even harmful. Lifting one author can push others away. But it is necessary to collect this outgoing folk history of labor with just many hands and we must hurry with this. "Not allowing himself to be praised either in writing or publicly, Bazhov emphasized the need, even if there was a talent for labor in literature. "When you see a careless attitude towards historical facts, it becomes uncomfortable," he wrote. "And they also want," he said of some authors of precocious one-day magazines, "to achieve everything without bothering either the eyes or the backside - due to" naked talent ", but it doesn't work out. And it will never come out without great participation of the eyes and sitting, even with the greatest giftedness. It is precisely this art, unusual for us, that we must learn from the elderly. Isn't our national genius A.S. Pushkin also striking in his ability to work? Working on the history of the Pugachev region, he not only sits in the archive for months, but he goes to the Urals. After all, this is not on an airplane and not even in a carriage, but on chaise longues. Try to imagine that one of our contemporaries has done adequate work! Yes, he would have written several volumes of his travel impressions, a dozen or two stories, four plays, five scenarios and one collection of little form, and Pushkin included all this partly in The Captain's Daughter and in separate lines of poetry. This is where it comes out thick. We read contemporaries and say: "And the predecessors are better!" Yes. Because the predecessors had more precedence than ours. In a word, I was and remain a supporter of labor in literature. Standing on this position, I affirm that after some ten years of work, everyone can produce a canvas that is amazing in its unexpectedness.
The writer Bazhov had late flowering. Obviously, because he took the concept of "real literature" very seriously, put the title of writer too high and did not consider it applicable to himself. He considered A.S. Pushkin, "whose fairy tale is that wonderful fusion, where folk art is inseparable from the personal work of the poet," and L.N. it turned out well, because he was Leo Nikolayevich Tolstoy." In January 1949, the 70th anniversary of P.P. Bazhov. Friends and readers gathered in the hall of the Sverdlovsk State Philharmonic. Many solemn and funny gifts. The hero of the day is touched, grateful, excited. He thanked his relatives, friends, writers, journalists, publishers and readers for their attention to his work and for their help, and again repeated what he always said: “This attention, of course, is not to me, but to those unknown creators whose material has reached before me and became available to the reader. My role in this is secondary "... On December 10, 1950, on a frosty day, we buried our father on a high hill from which the Urals are visible - forests and copses, mountains and ponds - everything that he loved which has always been dear to his heart.

Main characters:

Danila master.

Prokopych.

Characteristics of the main characters:

Danila is a master - smart, hardworking, cunning.

Prokopych is smart, hardworking, caring, unrestrained.

Summary:

Danila was an orphan and master Prokopych took him in,

Danila knows his business well (he processed stones mined from the Ural mountains, there are also legends about the mistress of the copper mountain, legends say that she lures stone craftsmen to the mountains forever, there are also legends about a magical and very beautiful stone flower that grows at the mistress copper mountain in the garden)

Danila really wants to look at the flower and decides to go in search of him, the bride and Protopych dissuade him, but nothing happens. And so began this exciting adventure.

The passage or episode that you liked the most:

e alone were marble in glory in a stone case. Also in our factories, they say, they had this skill. The only difference is that ours burned more with malachite, how it was enough, and the grade is not higher. It was from this that malachite was suitably made. Such, listen, little things that you wonder how it helped him.
There was a master Prokopyich at that time. First in these cases. Nobody could do better than him. Was in his old age.
So the master ordered the clerk to put the boy to this Prokopich for training.
- Let them take over everything to the subtlety.
Only Prokopyich, whether it was a pity for him to part with his skill, or something else, taught very badly. He has everything with a jerk and with a poke. He planted bumps all over the boy's head, almost cut off his ears, and said to the clerk:
- This one is not good ... His eye is incapable, his hand does not carry. It won't make sense.
The clerk, apparently, was ordered to please Prokopych.
- Not good, so not good ... We'll give another ... - And he will dress up another boy.
The children have heard about this science ... Early in the morning they roar, as if not to get to Prokopych. It is also not sweet for fathers-mothers to give their own children to wasteful flour - they began to shield their own, whoever they could. And then to say, this skill is unhealthy, with malachite. The poison is pure. This is where people are protected.
The clerk still remembers the master's order - he puts Prokopych students. He will wash the boy in his own way and hand him back to the clerk.
- This one is not good ... The clerk began to eat up:
- How long will it be? No good, no good, when will it be good? Learn it...
Prokopyich, know your own:
“I don’t care ... I’ll teach for ten years, but this kid will be of no use ...
- What else do you want?
- Though I don’t bet at all, I don’t miss it ...
And so the clerk and Prokopych went over a lot of children, but there was only one sense: there were bumps on the head, and in the head - how to run away. They spoiled them on purpose so that Prokopyich would drive them away. And so it came to Danilka Nedokormysh. Orphan round was this boy. Years, go, then twelve, or even more. He is tall on his feet, and thin, thin, in which the soul rests. Well, with a clean face. Curly hair, dove eyes. First they took him to the Cossacks at the master's house: a snuffbox, a handkerchief, run where and so on. Only this orphan had no talent for such a thing. Other boys in such and such places curl like vines. A little something - on the hood: what do you order? And this Danilko will hide somewhere in the corner, stare with his eyes at some picture, or at the decoration, and he’s worth it. They shout at him, but he does not lead with his ear. They beat, of course, at first, then waved their hand:
- Blessed one! Slug! Such a good servant will not come out.

Not only marbles were famous for the stone business. Also in our factories, they say, they had this skill. The only difference is that ours burned more with malachite, as it was enough, and the grade is not higher. It was from this that malachite was suitably made. Such, listen, little things that you wonder how it helped him. There was a master Prokopyich at that time. First in these cases. Nobody could do better than him. Was in his old age.

So the master ordered the clerk to put the boy to this Prokopich for training.

Let them take over everything to the subtlety.

Only Prokopyich, whether it was a pity for him to part with his skill, or something else, taught very badly. He has everything with a jerk and with a poke. He planted bumps all over the boy's head, almost cut off his ears, and said to the clerk:

This one is not good ... His eye is incapable, his hand does not carry. It won't make sense.

The clerk, apparently, was ordered to please Prokopych.

Not good, so not good ... We'll give another ... - And he will dress up another boy.

The children have heard about this science ... Early in the morning they roar, as if not to get to Prokopych. It is also not sweet for fathers-mothers to give their own children to wasteful flour - they began to shield their own, whoever they could. And then to say, this skill is unhealthy, with malachite. The poison is pure. This is where people are protected.

The clerk still remembers the master's order - he puts Prokopych students. He will wash the boy in his own way and hand him back to the clerk.

This one is not good ... The clerk began to eat up:

How long will it be? No good, no good, when will it be good? Learn it...

Prokopyich, know your own:

What do I… Even if I’m going to teach for ten years, this kid won’t be of any use…

What else do you want?

Even though I don’t bet at all, I don’t miss it ...

And so the clerk and Prokopych went over a lot of children, but there was only one sense: there were bumps on the head, and in the head - how to run away. They spoiled them on purpose so that Prokopyich would drive them away. And so it came to Danilka Nedokormysh. This boy was an orphan round. Years, go, then twelve, or even more. He is tall on his feet, and thin, thin, in which the soul rests. Well, with a clean face. Curly hair, dove eyes. First they took him to the Cossacks at the master's house: a snuffbox, a handkerchief, run where and so on. Only this orphan had no talent for such a thing. Other boys in such and such places curl like vines. A little something - on the hood: what do you order? And this Danilko will hide somewhere in the corner, stare with his eyes at some picture, or at the decoration, and he’s worth it. They shout at him, but he does not lead with his ear. They beat, of course, at first, then waved their hand:

Blessed one! Slug! Such a good servant will not come out.

All the same, they didn’t give it to a factory job or uphill - the place is very liquid, it won’t be enough for a week. The clerk put him in the sheds. And then Danilko did not come at all well. The kid is exactly diligent, but everything comes out wrong with him. Everyone seems to be thinking about something. He stares at the blade of grass, and the cows are there! The affectionate old shepherd got caught, felt sorry for the orphan, and that time cursed:

What will come out of you, Danilko? You will destroy yourself, and you will bring my old back under the fight. Where does it fit? What do you even think about?

I myself, grandfather, I don’t know ... So ... about nothing ... I stared a little. The bug crawled along the leaf. She herself is blue, and from under her wings she looks yellowish, and the leaf is wide ... Along the edges, the teeth, like a frill, are curved. Here it shows darker, and the middle is green-pregreen, they just painted it right now ... And the insect is crawling ...

Well, aren't you a fool, Danilko? Is it your business to disassemble insects? She crawls - and crawl, and your job is to look after the cows. Look at me, throw this nonsense out of your head, or I'll tell the clerk!

One Danilushka was given. He learned to play the horn - where is the old man! Purely on what kind of music. In the evening, as the cows are driven in, the women-women ask:

Play, Danilushko, a song.

He will start playing. And the songs are all unfamiliar. Either the forest is noisy, or the stream is murmuring, the birds are calling to all sorts of voices, but it comes out well. Very much for those songs, women began to welcome Danilushka. Who will fix the ponytails, who will cut off the canvas for onuchi, sew a new shirt. There is no talk about a piece - each strives to give more and sweeter. The old shepherd also liked Danilushkov's songs. It just got a little awkward here. Danilushko will start to play and forget everything, exactly and there are no cows. It was at this game that he got into trouble.

Danilushko, apparently, played too much, and the old man dozed off a little. How many cows they have fought off. As they began to gather for pasture, they look - there is no one, there is no other. They rushed to look, but where are you. They grazed near Yelnichnaya ... The most here is a wolf's place, deaf ... Only one cow was found. They drove the herd home ... So and so - they cheated. Well, they also ran from the factory - they went on a search, but they didn’t find it.

The massacre then, it is known what it was. For any guilt, show your back. For sin, there was one more cow from the clerk's yard. Don't wait here at all. At first they stretched the old man, then it dawned on Danilushka, but he was thin and skinny. The master's executioner even misspoke.

Somebody, - he says, - at one time will sob, or even let his soul out.

He hit all the same - he did not regret it, but Danilushko is silent. His executioner suddenly in a row - is silent, the third - is silent. The executioner here became furious, let's bald from the whole shoulder, and he himself shouts:

What more patient was found! Now I know where to put it, if it remains alive.

Danilushko did lie down. Grandmother Vikhorikha put him on his feet. There was, they say, such an old woman. Instead of a doctor in our factories, she was very famous. I knew the strength in herbs: one from the teeth, one from the strain, which from the ache ... Well, everything is as it is. She herself collected those herbs at the very time when which herb had full strength. She prepared tinctures from such herbs and roots, boiled decoctions and mixed with ointments.

Well Danilushka had a good time with this grandmother Vikhorikha. The old woman, listen, is affectionate and talkative, and herbs, and roots, and all sorts of flowers are dried and hung all over the hut. Danilushko is curious about herbs - what is the name of this one? where does it grow? what flower? The old woman tells him.

Prokopich lived alone. His wife died a long time ago. Old Mitrofanovna, one of the neighbors, kept housekeeping for him. In the mornings she went to cook, cook something, clean up in the hut, and in the evening Prokopyich himself managed what he needed.

Have eaten, Prokopych and says:

Lie down on the bench over there!

Danilushko took off his shoes, put his knapsack under his head, covered himself with a cloak, shivered a little - you see, it was cold in the hut in the autumn time - nevertheless he soon fell asleep. Prokopyich also lay down, but he could not sleep: he kept talking about the malachite pattern from his head. He tossed and turned, got up, lit a candle and to the machine - let's try on this malachite board this way and that. He will close one edge, the other ... he will add a field, reduce it. So he puts it, turns it on the other side, and everything turns out that the boy understood the pattern better.

Here's to you and Nedokormyshek! Prokopych marvels. “Nothing else, nothing, but I pointed it out to the old master. Well, an eye! Well, an eye!

He went quietly into the closet, dragged out a pillow and a large sheepskin coat. He slipped a pillow under Danilushka's head, covered it with a sheepskin coat:

Sleep, eyes!

And he didn’t wake up, turned only on the other side, stretched out under a sheepskin coat - he felt warm, - and let's whistle softly with his nose. Prokopich didn’t have his own guys, this Danilushko fell to his heart. The master is standing, admiring, and Danilushko is whistling, sleeping peacefully. Prokopych's concern is how to put this boy on his feet properly, so that he is not so skinny and unhealthy.

Prokopych even got tears in his eyes—it was so heartbreaking for him.

Son, - he says, - dear, Danilushko ... What else do I know, I will reveal everything to you ... I won’t hide ...

Only from that time on Danilushka did not have a free life. The next day the clerk sent for him and began to give work for the lesson. First, of course, simpler things: plaques, what women wear, caskets. Then it went with a dot: candlesticks and decorations are different. There they reached the carving. Leaves and petals, patterns and flowers. After all, they - malachites - have a baggy business. A trifling thing, but how long he sits over it! So Danilushko grew up with this work.

And as he carved the sleeve - a snake made of solid stone, the clerk recognized him as a master at all. Barin wrote about this:

“So and so, a new malachite craftsman showed up with us - Danilko Nedokormysh. Works well, only in youth it is still quiet. Will you order him to be left at the lessons, or, like Prokopych, to be released for quitrent?

Danilushko worked not at all quietly, but surprisingly deftly and quickly. It’s Prokopyich who got the knack here. The clerk will ask Danilushka what lesson for five days, and Prokopyich will go and say:

This is not in force. It takes half a month to do this job. The guy is learning. Hurry up - only a stone will uselessly exhaust.

Well, the clerk will argue how many days, and, you see, he will add days. Danilushko and worked without effort. I even learned to read and write slowly from the clerk. So, just a little, but still he understood literacy. Prokopych was good at this too. When he himself would get better, do the clerk's lessons for Danilushka, only Danilushko did not allow this:

What you! What are you, uncle! Is it your business to sit at the machine for me!

Look, your beard has turned green from malachite, your health has begun to fail, but what is being done to me?

Danilushka appointed a trifling dues, did not order the guy from Prokopich to take - maybe the two of them would come up with something new sooner. I sent a drawing when I wrote. There, too, a bowl is drawn with all sorts of things. There is a carved border along the rim, a stone ribbon with a through pattern on the belt, leaves on the footrest. In a word, invented. And on the drawing, the master signed: “Let him sit for at least five years, but for this to be exactly done”

Here the clerk had to retreat from his word. He announced that the master had written, let Danilushka go to Prokopych and gave the drawing.

Danilushko approached this gazer, and here the malachitin was turned out. A large stone - you can’t carry it away on your hands, and it’s as if it’s trimmed like a bush. Danilushko began to examine this find. Everything is as he needs: thicker from below, veins in the very places where it is required ... Well, everything is as it is ... Danilushko was delighted, quickly ran after the horse, brought the stone home, says to Prokopych:

Look, what a stone! Exactly on purpose for my work. Now I'll do it live. Then get married. It's true, Katenka was waiting for me. Yes, it's not easy for me either. This is the only job that keeps me going. I'd rather finish it!

Well, Danilushko set to work on that stone. He knows neither day nor night. And Prokopych is silent. Maybe the guy will calm down, like a hunt. The work is moving along. Finished the bottom of the stone. As it is, listen, dope bush. The leaves are wide in a bunch, teeth, veins - everything could not have been better, Prokopyich says even then - a living flower, at least touch it with your hand. Well, as soon as I reached the top, it started pounding. The stalk has been carved, the side leaves are thin - as soon as they hold on! A cup, like a dope flower, or else ... He became not alive and lost his beauty. Danilushko lost his sleep here. He sits over this bowl of his own, thinks out how to fix it, it’s better to do it. Prokopyich and other craftsmen, who came to have a look, wonder - what else does a guy need? The cup came out - no one did this, but he was not okay. The guy is smart, he needs to be treated. Katenka hears what people are saying, and she began to cry. This brought Danilushka to his senses.

Okay, he says, I won't do it again. It can be seen that I can’t rise higher, I can’t catch the power of the stone. - And let's hurry up with the wedding.

Well, why hurry, if the bride has long ago everything is ready. They set a day. Danilushko cheered up. I told the clerk about the cup. He came running, looking - what a thing! I wanted to send this bowl to the master now, but Danilushko says:

Wait a little, there is a finishing touch.

It was autumn time. Just around the Serpentine Festival, the wedding took place. By the way, someone mentioned this - soon the snakes will all gather in one place. Danilushko took note of these words. I remembered again the talk about the malachite flower. So he was drawn: “Shouldn’t I go to the Snake Hill for the last time? Do I recognize something there?” - and he remembered about the stone: “After all, how laid it was! And the voice in the mine… was talking about the Snake Hill.”

So Danilushko went! The earth then began to freeze slightly, the snow was powdering. Danilushko went up to the crook where he took the stone, looking, and in that place there was a large pothole, as if the stone had been broken. Danilushko did not think about who was breaking the stone, he went into the pothole. “I’ll sit,” he thinks, “I’ll rest with the wind. It's warmer here." He looks - at one wall there is a gray stone, like a chair. Danilushko sat down here, thought, looked at the ground, and that stone flower never left his head. “That would be a look!” Only suddenly it became warm, exactly summer returned. Danilushko raised his head, and opposite, at the other wall, sits the Hostess of the Copper Mountain. By beauty, and by her malachite dress, Danilushko immediately recognized her. He only thinks:

“Maybe it seems to me, but in reality there is no one.” He sits - is silent, looks at the place where the Mistress is, and as if he sees nothing. She, too, is silent, as if thoughtful. Then he asks:

Well, Danilo-master, didn't your dope bowl come out?

She didn't come out, she replied.

And don't hang your head! Try another. The stone will be for you, according to your thoughts.

No, he replies, I can't. The whole is exhausted, it does not come out. Show me the stone flower.

To show something, - he says, - is simple, but then you will regret it.

Will you let go of the mountain?

Why won't I let go! The road is open, but only toss and turn to me.

Show me, do me a favor! She also persuaded him:

Maybe you can try to make it yourself! - She also mentioned Prokopych: -

He de pity you, now it's your turn to pity him. - She reminded me of the bride: - The girl does not have a soul in you, but you look to the side.

I know, - shouts Danilushko, - but without a flower, I have no life. Show me!

When so, - he says, - let's go, Danilo-master, to my garden.

She said and got up. Here something rustled like earthen scree. Danilushko looks, but there are no walls. The trees stand tall, but not like those in our forests, but made of stone. Some are marble, some are made of serpentine-stone… Well, all sorts… Only living ones, with branches, with leaves. They sway in the wind and give a golk, like someone throws up pebbles. Below the grass, also stone. Azure, red ... different ... The sun is not visible, but it is light, like before sunset. Between the trees, golden snakes flutter as if they are dancing. Light comes from them.

And then that girl Danilushka led to a large clearing. The earth here is like simple clay, and on it the bushes are black as velvet. On these bushes there are large green malachite bells and in each an antimony star. The fiery bees above those flowers sparkle, and the stars tinkle subtly, sing evenly.

Well, Danilo-master, have a look? the Mistress asks.

You will not find, - Danilushko answers, - a stone to do this.

If you had thought of it yourself, I would have given you such a stone, now I can’t. -

She said and waved her hand. Again there was a noise, and Danilushko found himself on the same stone, in this pit. The wind is howling. Well, you know, it's autumn.

Well, we talked a little more, then Prokopyich fell asleep again. And Danilushko lay down, only he had no sleep and no. He tossed and turned, got up again, lit the fire, looked at the bowls, went up to Prokopyich. He stood here over the old man, sighed ...

Then he took a balodka and gasped at the Datura flower - it only shrunk. And that bowl, - according to the master's drawing, - did not move! He spat only in the middle and ran out. Since then, Danilushka could not be found.

Who said that he had made up his mind, perished in the forest, and who again said that the Mistress took him to be a mountain master.

There lived a malachite craftsman Prokopyich. He was a good master, but already in years. Then the master decided that the master should continue to pass on his craft and ordered the clerk to select a student for him. No matter how many boys the clerk brought, they did not suit Prokopych. Until one day the clerk brought the 12-year-old orphan Danilka - Nedokormysh. The boy was assigned to Prokopyich only because there was no use for him anywhere, and if Prokopyich inadvertently knocked him down, then there would be no one to ask for him. From the very first day, the boy of the old master struck.

Approaching the lathe with malachite stone, Danilko immediately showed the master how to use the stone better so that the pattern fits better on the product. Prokopyich realized that the youngster would be good and decided to teach him his skills. Once the clerk found Danilko fattened, healthy and well-dressed by the pond and did not immediately recognize it, but soon realized that this was the same orphan.

The clerk and the master decided to test his skills by instructing him to make a bowl. Danilko made three bowls in the allotted time, and then the master allowed Prokopich and Danilka to take as much malachite as they liked and make any crafts. Danilko grew up, became an excellent craftsman and betrothed Natasha, but postponed the wedding until he created a bowl imitating Datura grass with a flower. Danilko found a suitable stone and made the base of the bowl, but when he got to the flower, the bowl lost its beauty. Danilko kept walking through the forests, looking for inspiration and a stone flower, which his grandmother Vikhorka told him about in childhood. Natasha had already begun to cry, afraid to walk forever in brides, and then Danilko decided to get married. Scheduled a wedding. Danilko, during another walk near the Snake Hill, met the mistress of Mednaya Mountain, about which he had heard legends since childhood, about her stone garden, about the best craftsmen working with her. Although she dissuaded Danilko, he insisted, and the hostess showed him her stone garden and a flower that he had dreamed of seeing all his life.

Returning home, Danilko got to the bride at a party, but happiness and fun left him, he now dreamed only of a stone flower. Late in the evening Danilko came home and while Prokopyich was sleeping he broke his unfinished dope bowl and left. The people began to say that he now serves as a master at the mistress of the Copper Mountain.

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5. The Red Flower Garshin's most famous story. Not being strictly autobiographical, he nevertheless absorbed the personal experience of a writer who suffered from manic-depressive psychosis and suffered an acute form of the disease in 1880. A new patient is brought to the provincial psychiatric hospital. He is buen, and the doctor Read More ......
6. Malachite box Nastasya and her husband Stepan lived near the Ural Mountains. Suddenly, Nastasya became a widow and she was left with a little daughter and sons in her arms. The older children helped their mother, and the daughter was still quite a baby, and so that she would not interfere, Nastasya gave Read More ......
7. Stone guest At the gates of Madrit sit Don Juan and his servant Leporello. They are going to wait here for the night, so that under its cover they can enter the city. The carefree Don Juan thinks he won't be recognized in the city, but the sober Leporello is sarcastic on Read More ......
8. Seville mischievous, or Stone guest Palace of the King of Naples. Night. Don Juan leaves the Duchess Isabella, who takes him for her beloved Duke Octavio. She wants to light a candle, but don Juan stops her. Isabella suddenly realizes that she was not Read More ......

Not only marbles were famous for the stone business. Also in our factories, they say, they had this skill. The only difference is that ours burned more with malachite, how it was enough, and the grade is not higher. It was from this that malachite was suitably made. Such, listen, little things that you wonder how it helped him.

There was a master Prokopyich at that time. First in these cases. Nobody could do better than him. Was in his old age.

So the master ordered the clerk to put the boy to this Prokopich for training.

Let them take over everything to the subtlety.

Only Prokopyich, whether it was a pity for him to part with his skill, or something else, taught very badly. He has everything with a jerk and with a poke. He planted bumps all over the boy's head, almost cut off his ears, and said to the clerk:

This one is not good ... His eye is incapable, his hand does not carry. It won't make sense.

The clerk, apparently, was ordered to please Prokopych.

Not good, so not good ... We'll give another ... - And dress up another boy.

The children have heard about this science ... Early in the morning they roar, as if not to get to Prokopych. It is also not sweet for fathers-mothers to give their own children to wasteful flour - they began to shield their own, whoever they could. And then to say, this skill is unhealthy, with malachite. The poison is pure. This is where people are protected.

The clerk still remembers the master's order - he puts Prokopych students. He will wash the boy in his own way and hand him back to the clerk.

This one is not good ... The clerk began to eat up:

How long will it be? No good, no good, when will it be good? Learn it...

Prokopyich, know your own:

I don’t care ... I’ll teach for ten years, but this kid will be of no use ...

What else do you want?

Even though I don’t bet at all, I don’t miss it ...

And so the clerk and Prokopych went over a lot of children, but there was only one sense: there were bumps on the head, and in the head - how to run away. They spoiled them on purpose so that Prokopyich would drive them away. And so it came to Danilka Nedokormysh. This boy was an orphan round. Years, go, then twelve, or even more. He is tall on his feet, and thin, thin, in which the soul rests. Well, with a clean face. Curly hair, dove eyes. First they took him to the Cossacks at the master's house: a snuffbox, a handkerchief, run where and so on. Only this orphan had no talent for such a thing. Other boys in such and such places curl like vines. A little something - on the hood: what do you order? And this Danilko will hide somewhere in the corner, stare with his eyes at some picture, or at the decoration, and he’s worth it. They shout at him, but he does not lead with his ear. They beat, of course, at first, then waved their hand:

Blessed one! Slug! Such a good servant will not come out.

All the same, they didn’t give it to a factory job or uphill - the place is very liquid, it won’t be enough for a week. The clerk put him in the sheds. And then Danilko did not come at all well. The kid is exactly diligent, but everything comes out wrong with him. Everyone seems to be thinking about something. He stares at the blade of grass, and the cows are there! The affectionate old shepherd got caught, felt sorry for the orphan, and that time cursed:

What will come out of you, Danilko? You will destroy yourself, and you will bring my old back under the fight. Where does it fit? What do you even think about?

I myself, grandfather, I don’t know ... So ... about nothing ... I stared a little. The bug crawled along the leaf. She herself is blue, and from under her wings she looks yellowish, and the leaf is wide ... Along the edges, the teeth, like a frill, are curved. Here it shows darker, and the middle is green-very green, they just painted it right now ... And the insect is crawling ...

Well, aren't you a fool, Danilko? Is it your business to disassemble insects? She crawls - and crawl, and your job is to look after the cows. Look at me, throw this nonsense out of your head, or I'll tell the clerk!

One Danilushka was given. He learned to play the horn - where is the old man! Purely on what kind of music. In the evening, as the cows are driven in, the women-women ask:

Play, Danilushko, a song.

He will start playing. And the songs are all unfamiliar. Either the forest is noisy, or the stream is murmuring, the birds are calling to all sorts of voices, but it comes out well. Very much for those songs, women began to welcome Danilushka. Who will fix the ponytails, who will cut off the canvas for onuchi, sew a new shirt. There is no talk about a piece - each strives to give more and sweeter. The old shepherd also liked Danilushkov's songs. It just got a little awkward here. Danilushko will start to play and forget everything, exactly and there are no cows. It was at this game that he got into trouble.

Danilushko, apparently, played too much, and the old man dozed off a little. How many cows they have fought off. As they began to collect pasture, they look - there is no one, there is no other. They rushed to look, but where are you. They grazed near Yelnichnaya ... The most wolf-like place here, deaf ... They found only one cow. They drove the herd home ... So and so - they cheated. Well, they also ran from the factory - they went on a search, but they didn’t find it.

The massacre then, it is known what it was. For any guilt, show your back. For sin, there was one more cow from the clerk's yard. Don't wait here at all. At first they stretched the old man, then it dawned on Danilushka, but he was thin and skinny. The master's executioner even misspoke.

Somebody, - he says, - will succumb at once, or even let his soul out.

He hit all the same - he did not regret it, but Danilushko is silent. His executioner is suddenly in a row - silent, the third - silent. The executioner here became furious, let's bald from the whole shoulder, and he himself shouts:

What more patient was found! Now I know where to put it, if it remains alive.

Danilushko did lie down. Grandmother Vikhorikha put him on his feet. There was, they say, such an old woman. Instead of a doctor in our factories, she was very famous. I knew the strength in herbs: one from the teeth, one from the strain, which from the aches ... Well, everything is as it is. She herself collected those herbs at the very time when which herb had full strength. She prepared tinctures from such herbs and roots, boiled decoctions and mixed with ointments.

Well Danilushka had a good time with this grandmother Vikhorikha. The old woman, listen, is affectionate and talkative, and herbs, and roots, and all sorts of flowers are dried and hung all over the hut. Danilushko is curious about herbs - what is the name of this one? where does it grow? what flower? The old woman tells him.

Once Danilushko asks:

Do you, grandmother, know every flower in our area?

I won’t brag, he says, but everyone seems to know how open they are.

But is it, - he asks, - are there not yet open ones?

There are, - answers, - and such. Have you heard of Papor? She seems to be blooming

The day of Ivan. That flower is magical. Treasures are opened to them. Harmful to humans. On the gap-grass, a flower is a running light. Catch him - and all the shutters are open for you. Vorovskoy is a flower. And then there is a stone flower. It seems to be growing in a malachite mountain. On the snake festival, it has full power. Unfortunate is the person who sees the stone flower.

What, grandmother, unfortunate?

And this, baby, I don’t know myself. That's what they told me. Danilushko

Vikhorikhi, perhaps, could have lived longer, but the bailiff's messengers noticed that the boy had begun to walk a little, and now to the bailiff. The clerk Danilushka called and said:

Go now to Prokopich - to learn the malachite business. The most work for you.

Well, what will you do? Danilushko went, but he is still shaking himself with the wind. Prokopyich looked at him and said:

This was still lacking. Healthy boys here are not strong enough to study, but with such that you will seek - it is barely alive.

Prokopyich went to the clerk:

You don't need this. You will inadvertently kill - you will have to answer.

Only the clerk - where are you going, did not listen;

Given to you - teach, do not argue! He - this boy - is strong. Don't look that thin.

Well, it's up to you, - says Prokopyich, - it would be said. I will teach, if only they didn’t pull to the answer.

Nobody to pull. This lonely boy, do what you want with him, - the clerk answers.

Prokopyich came home, and Danilushko was standing near the machine, looking at the malachite board. A notch is made on this board - to beat off the edge. Here Danilushko is staring at this place and shaking his little head. Prokopich was curious about what this new kid was looking at here. He asked sternly, according to his rule:

What are you? Who asked you to take the craft in your hands? What are you looking at here? Danilushko and answers:

In my opinion, grandfather, it is not necessary to beat off the edge from this side. Look, the pattern is here, and they will cut it off. Prokopyich shouted, of course:

What? Who are you? Master? There were no hands, but you judge? What can you understand?

I understand that this thing was spoiled, - Danilushko answers.

Who messed up? a? It's you, brat, to me - the first master! .. Yes, I'll show you such damage ... you won't live!

He made such a noise, shouted, but did not touch Danilushka with his finger. Prokopyich, you see, he himself was thinking over this board - from which side to cut the edge. Danilushko hit the nail on the head with his conversation. Prokopyich shouted and said quite kindly:

Well, you, the manifested master, show me how to do it in your opinion?

Danilushko began to show and tell:

Here's the pattern. And it would be better - to let the plank narrower, beat off the edge along the open field, if only to leave a small lash on top.

Prokopych know shouting:

Well, well ... How! You understand a lot. Accumulated - do not wake up! - And he thinks to himself: "That's right, the guy says. Of this, perhaps, it will be good. Only teach him how? Knock once - he will stretch his legs."

I thought so and asked:

What kind of scientist are you?

Danilushko told about himself. Like an orphan. I don’t remember my mother, and I don’t even know who the father was. They call Danilka Nedokormysh, but I don’t know about that as a patronymic and father’s nickname. He told how he was in the household and why he was driven out, how then he went with the cow herd in the summer, how he got under the fight. Prokopych regretted:

It’s not sweet, I see, you, guy, have been wondering how to live, but then you also got to me.