Moroz Ivanovich Odoevsky dictionary with unknown words.

Odoevsky's fairy tale "Moroz Ivanovich" tells about two girls. One of them, the Needlewoman, dropped a bucket into the well. When the girl went down after him, she saw miracles and grandfather Moroz Ivanovich there. For her kindness, the Needlewoman received gifts from Frost. And what did Sloth get?

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Two girls lived in the same house - the Needlewoman and Lenivitsa, and with them a nanny. The needlewoman was a smart girl: she got up early, dressed herself, without a nanny, and getting out of bed, she got down to business: she stoked the stove, kneaded bread, chalked the hut, fed the rooster, and then went to the well for water.

And Sloth, meanwhile, was lying in bed, stretching, waddling from side to side, is it really boring to lie down, so she will say when she wakes up: “Nanny, put on my stockings, nanny, tie my shoes,” and then she will say: “Nanny, is there a bun?”

He gets up, jumps and sits by the window of flies to count: how many have arrived and how many have flown away. As Sloth counts everyone, he doesn’t know what to start and what to do; she would go to bed - but she does not want to sleep; she would like to eat - but she does not want to eat; she would count flies to the window - and even then she was tired. She sits, miserable, and cries and complains about everyone that she is bored, as if others are to blame. Meanwhile, the Needlewoman returns, strains the water, pours it into jugs; and what an entertainer: if the water is unclean, she will roll up a sheet of paper, put coals in it and pour coarse sand, insert that paper into a jug and pour water into it, and water, you know, passes through the sand and through the coals and drops into the jug is clean, like crystal; and then the Needlewoman will begin to knit stockings or cut scarves, or even sew shirts and cut them, and even drag out a needlework song; and she was never bored, because she had no time to be bored either: now on this, now on another business, and here, you look, the evening has passed - the day has passed.

Once, a misfortune happened to the Needlewoman: she went to the well for water, lowered the bucket on the rope, and the rope broke; the bucket fell into the well. How to be here?

The poor needlewoman burst into tears and went to the nanny to tell about her misfortune and misfortune; and nanny Praskovya was so strict and angry, she said:

She made the trouble herself, and correct it herself; she drowned the bucket herself, and get it herself.

There was nothing to do: the poor Needlewoman again went to the well, grabbed the rope and went down it to the very bottom. Only then did a miracle happen to her. As soon as she got down, she looked: there was a stove in front of her, and in the stove there was a pie, so ruddy, fried; sits, looks and says:

I am quite ready, browned, fried with sugar and raisins; whoever takes me out of the oven will go with me!

The needlewoman, without any hesitation, grabbed a spatula, took out a pie and put it in her bosom. She goes further.

There is a garden in front of her, and in the garden there is a tree, and golden apples on the tree; apples move their leaves and say among themselves:

The needlewoman went up to the tree, shook it by the knot, and the golden apples fell down into her apron.

BUT! - he said. - Hello, Needlewoman! Thank you for bringing me a pie; I haven't eaten anything hot in a long time.

Then he sat the Needlewoman next to him, and they had breakfast together with a pie, and ate golden apples.

I know why you came, - says Moroz Ivanovich, - you lowered a bucket into my student; I’ll give you a bucket, only you serve me for three days; you will be smart, you are better off; If you're lazy, it's worse for you. And now, - added Moroz Ivanovich, - it's time for me, the old man, to rest; go and make my bed, and see if you fluff the feather bed well.

The needlewoman obeyed. They went to the house. Moroz Ivanovich's house was made entirely of ice: the doors, the windows, and the floor were icy, and the walls were decorated with snow stars; the sun shone on them, and everything in the house shone like diamonds. On Moroz Ivanovich's bed, instead of a feather bed, lay fluffy snow; cold and there was nothing to do.

The needlewoman began to beat the snow so that the old man could sleep softer, but meanwhile, her poor hands ossified and her fingers turned white, like those of poor people, who rinse their linen in the hole in winter: it’s cold, and the wind in the face, and the linen freezes, stake worth it, but there is nothing to do - poor people work.

Nothing, - said Moroz Ivanovich, - just rub your fingers with snow, and they will go away, you won’t get chills. I'm a kind old man; look at my curiosities. Then he lifted his snowy featherbed with a blanket, and the Needlewoman saw that green grass was breaking through under the featherbed. The needlewoman felt sorry for the poor weed.

So you say, - she said, - that you are a kind old man, but why do you keep green grass under a snowy feather bed, do not let it out into the light of day?

I don’t release because it’s not time yet; The grass hasn't come into play yet. In the autumn, the peasants sowed it, and it sprouted, and if it had already stretched out, then winter would have captured it, and by the summer the grass would not have ripened. So I covered the young greenery with my snowy feather bed, and even lay down on it myself so that the snow would not be blown away by the wind; but then spring will come, the snowy feather bed will melt, the grass will begin to grow, and there, you look, the grain will look out, and the peasant will collect the grain and take it to the mill; the miller will sweep away the grain, and there will be flour, and from the flour you, Needlewoman, will bake bread.

Well, tell me, Moroz Ivanovich, - said the Needlewoman, - why are you sitting in the well?

Then I sit in the well, that spring is coming, - said Moroz Ivanovich, - it becomes hot for me; and you know that even in the summer it is cold in the well, that is why the water in the well is cold, even in the middle of the hottest summer.

And why are you, Moroz Ivanovich, - asked the Needlewoman, - in winter you walk through the streets and knock on the windows?

And then I knock on the windows, - answered Moroz Ivanovich, - so that they do not forget to heat the stoves and close the pipes in time; otherwise, I know, there are such sluts that they will heat the stove, they will heat it, but they will not close the pipe, or they will close it, but at the wrong time, when not all the coals have burned out, and that’s why it happens in the upper room, the head is people hurt, green in the eyes; You can even die of fumes completely. And then I also knock on the window so that no one forgets that there are people in the world who are cold in winter, who do not have a fur coat, and there is nothing to buy firewood; then I knock on the window so that they don’t forget to help them. Here good Frost Ivanovich stroked the Needlewoman on the head and lay down to rest on his snowy bed.

The needlewoman, meanwhile, cleaned up everything in the house, went into the kitchen, cooked the food, mended the old man's dress and darned the linen.

The old man woke up; was very pleased with everything and thanked the Needlewoman. Then they sat down to dine; the dinner was excellent, and the ice-cream that the old man made himself was especially good.

Frost Ivanovich poured silver patches into a bucket for the needlewoman. So the Needlewoman lived with Moroz Ivanovich for three whole days.

On the third day, Moroz Ivanovich said to the Needlewoman: - Thank you, you are a smart girl, you have comforted me, an old man, and I will not remain in your debt. You know: people get money for needlework, so here's your bucket for you, and I poured a whole handful of silver patches into the bucket; and moreover, here is a diamond for you to remember - to stab a scarf. The needlewoman thanked, pinned the diamond, took the bucket, went back to the well, grabbed the rope and went out into the light of day.

As soon as she began to approach the house, like a rooster, which she always fed, seeing her, he was delighted, flew up to the fence and shouted:

Crow-crow!

The Needlewoman has nickels in a bucket!

When the Needlewoman came home and told everything that had happened to her, the nanny was very surprised, and then she said: - You see, Sloth, what people get for needlework!

Go to the old man and serve him, work; clean his room, cook in the kitchen, mend the dress and darn the linen, and you will earn a handful of nickels, but it will come in handy: we don’t have enough money for the holiday.

It was very distasteful for Sloth to go to work with the old man. But she wanted to get a nickel and a diamond pin too.

Here, following the example of the Needlewoman, Sloth went to the well, grabbed the rope and bang right to the bottom. The stove looks in front of her, and in the stove sits a pie, so ruddy, fried; sits, looks and says:

I am quite ready, browned, fried with sugar and raisins; whoever takes me will go with me.

And Sloth answered him:

Yes, no matter how! I have to tire myself - to raise a shovel and reach into the stove; if you want, you can jump out.

We are liquid apples, ripe; they ate the root of the tree, washed themselves with icy dew; whoever shakes us from the tree will take us for himself.

Yes, no matter how! - answered Sloth. - I have to tire myself - raise my hands, pull the branches ... I will have time to score, as they themselves attack!

And Sloth passed by them. So she came to Moroz Ivanovich. The old man was still sitting on the icy bench and biting the snowballs.

What do you want, girl? - he asked.

I came to you, - Sloth answered, - to serve and get a job.

You said sensibly, girl, - the old man answered, - money follows for the work, just let's see what else your work will be. Go ahead, fluff up my featherbed, and then prepare the food, but mend my dress, and darn my linen.

Lenivitsa went, and on the way she thinks:

“I’ll tire myself out and chill my fingers! Perhaps the old man will not notice and will fall asleep on an unwhipped feather bed.

The old man really did not notice, or pretended not to notice, went to bed and fell asleep, and Sloth went into the kitchen. She came to the kitchen and did not know what to do. She loved to eat, but it never occurred to her to think about how the food was prepared; and she was too lazy to look. So she looked around: in front of her lies greens, and meat, and fish, and vinegar, and mustard, and kvass - everything in order. She thought, she thought, somehow she cleaned the greens, cut the meat and fish, yes, so that great work I didn’t give myself anything, as everything was washed, unwashed, so I put it in a saucepan: greens, and meat, and fish, and mustard, and vinegar, and added kvass, and she herself thinks:

“Why bother to cook each thing separately? After all, everything will be together in the stomach.

Here the old man woke up, asks for dinner. Sloth brought him a pot as it is, she didn’t even spread the tablecloths.

Moroz Ivanovich tried it, grimaced, and the sand crunched on his teeth. "You're doing well," he remarked, smiling. - Let's see what your other job will be.

Sloth tasted it, and immediately spat it out, and the old man groaned, groaned, and began to cook the food himself and made dinner well, so that Sloth licked her fingers, eating someone else's cooking.

After dinner the old man lay down to rest again, and reminded Lenivitsa that his dress had not been mended and his underwear had not been darned.

The sloth pouted, but there was nothing to do: she began to sort out her dress and linen; Yes, and here the trouble is: Sloth sewed clothes and linen, but how they sew it, she didn’t ask about it; she took a needle, but out of habit she pricked herself; so she threw it away. And the old man again seemed not to notice anything, he called Sloth to dinner and even put her to bed.

And Lenivitsa is happy; thinks to himself:

“Maybe it will pass. It was free for the sister to take on the work; kind old man, he will give me piglets for nothing.

On the third day, Lenivitsa comes and asks Moroz Ivanovich to let her go home and reward her for her work.

So what was your job? - asked the old man. - If the truth is true, then you must pay me, because you did not work for me, but I served you.

Yes, how! - answered Sloth. - I lived with you for three whole days. “You know, my dear,” answered the old man, “what I’ll tell you: to live and serve is a difference, and work is different for work; notice this: it will come in handy ahead. But, however, if your conscience does not look down, I will reward you: and what is your work, such will be your reward.

With these words, Moroz Ivanovich gave Lenivitsa a large silver ingot, and in his other hand, a large diamond. The sloth was so happy about this that she grabbed both and, without even thanking the old man, ran home.

Come home and brag.

Here, - he says, - what I have earned; not a couple of sisters, not a handful of patches and not a small diamond, but a whole silver ingot, you see, how heavy, and the diamond is almost the size of a fist ... You can buy a new one for the holiday ...

Before she could finish speaking, the silver ingot melted and poured onto the floor; he was nothing but quicksilver, which had hardened from the intense cold; at the same time the diamond began to melt.

And the rooster jumped on the fence and cried loudly:

Cuckoo-Cuckoo,

Sloth has an ice icicle in her hands!

And you, kids, think, guess what is true here, what is not true; what is said really, what is said by the side; either for fun or for instruction.

Vladimir Fyodorovich Odoevsky

Moroz Ivanovich

We don’t get anything for free, without labor, -

No wonder the proverb has been carried on from time immemorial.

Two girls lived in the same house: the Needlewoman and Lenivitsa, and with them a nanny. The needlewoman was a smart girl, she got up early, dressed herself without a nanny, and getting out of bed, she got down to business: she stoked the stove, kneaded bread, chalked the hut, fed the rooster, and then went to the well for water. Meanwhile, Sloth lay in bed; they have been ringing for mass for a long time, but she is still stretching: she rolls over from side to side; Is it really boring to lie down, so waking up will say: “Nanny, put on my stockings, nanny, tie my shoes”; and then he will say: “Nanny, is there a bun?” He gets up, jumps, and sits by the window of flies to count how many flies have arrived and how many have flown away. As Sloth counts everyone, he doesn’t know what to start and what to do; she would go to bed - but she does not want to sleep; she would like to eat - but she does not want to eat; she should have counted flies to the window - and even then she was tired; she sits miserable and cries and complains to everyone that she is bored, as if others are to blame.

Meanwhile, the Needlewoman returns, strains the water, pours it into jugs; and what an entertainer: if the water is unclean, he will roll up a sheet of paper, put coals in it and pour coarse sand, insert that paper into a jug and pour water into it, but you know the water passes through the sand and through the coals and drips into the jug clean like crystal; and then the Needlewoman will begin to knit stockings or cut scarves, or even sew shirts and cut them, and even drag out a needlework song; and she was never bored, because she had no time to be bored either: now on this, now on another business, here, you look, and the evening - the day has passed.

Once, a misfortune happened to the Needlewoman: she went to the well for water, lowered the bucket on the rope, and the rope broke and the bucket fell into the well. How to be here? The poor needlewoman burst into tears and went to the nanny to tell about her misfortune and misfortune, and nanny Praskovya was so strict and angry, she said:

- You yourself made the trouble, and correct it yourself. She drowned the bucket herself, and get it herself.

There was nothing to do; the poor Needlewoman went again to the well, grabbed the rope and went down it to the very bottom.

Only then a miracle happened to her. As soon as she went downstairs, she looked: there was a stove in front of her, and a pie was sitting in the stove, so ruddy, fried; sits, looks and says:

- I'm quite ready, browned, fried with sugar and raisins; whoever takes me out of the oven will go with me.

The needlewoman, without any hesitation, grabbed a spatula, took out a pie and put it in her bosom.

- We, apples, liquid, ripe, ate the root of the tree, washed ourselves with icy water; whoever shakes us from the tree will take us for himself.

The needlewoman went up to the tree, shook it by the knot, and the golden apples fell down into her apron.

- BUT! - he said, - great, Needlewoman; thank you for bringing me a pie: for a long time I haven’t eaten anything hot.

Then he sat the Needlewoman next to him, and they had breakfast together with a pie, and ate golden apples.

“I know why you came,” Moroz Ivanovich said, “you dropped a bucket into my student; I’ll give you a bucket, only you serve me for three days; if you're smart, you're better off; If you're lazy, it's worse for you. And now, - added Moroz Ivanovich, - it's time for me, the old man, to rest; go and make my bed, and see if you fluff the feather bed well.

The needlewoman obeyed ... They went into the house. Moroz Ivanovich's house was made of ice: the doors, the windows, and the floor were icy, and the walls were decorated with snow stars; the sun shone on them, and everything in the house shone like diamonds. On Moroz Ivanovich's bed, instead of a feather bed, lay fluffy snow; cold and there was nothing to do. The needlewoman began to whip up the snow so that the old man could sleep softer, but meanwhile, her hands, poor, were ossified and her fingers turned white, like those of poor people, who rinse their clothes in an ice-hole in winter; and it’s cold, and the wind is in your face, and the laundry freezes, it costs a stake, but there’s nothing to do - poor people work.

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In the same house lived two girls Needlewoman and Lenivitsa, and with them a nanny. The needlewoman was a smart girl: she got up early, dressed herself, without a nanny, and getting out of bed, she got down to business: she stoked the stove, kneaded bread, chalked the hut, fed the rooster, and then went to the well for water.
And Sloth, meanwhile, was lying in bed, stretching, waddling from side to side, is it really boring to lie down, so she will say when she wakes up: “Nanny, put on my stockings, nanny, tie my shoes,” and then she will say: “Nanny, is there a bun?” He gets up, jumps, and sits by the window of flies to count: how many flew in and how many flew away. As Sloth counts everyone, she doesn’t know what to do and what to do: she doesn’t want to go to bed and sleep; she would not want to eat and eat; she would be counting flies to the window, and even then she was tired. She sits, miserable, and cries and complains about everyone that she is bored, as if others are to blame.
Meanwhile, the Needlewoman returns, strains the water, pours it into jugs; and what an entertainer: if the water is unclean, he will roll up a sheet of paper, put coals in it and pour coarse sand, insert that paper into a jug and pour water into it, but you know the water passes through the sand and through the coals and drips into the jug clean like crystal; and then the Needlewoman will begin to knit stockings or cut scarves, or even sew and cut shirts, and even drag out a needlework song; and she was never bored, because there was no time for her to be bored either: now on this, now on another task, and here, you see, the evening and the day passed.
Once a misfortune happened to the Needlewoman: she went to the well for water, lowered the bucket on the rope, and the rope broke; the bucket fell into the well. How to be here?
The poor Needlewoman burst into tears, and went to the nanny to tell about her misfortune and misfortune; and nanny Praskovya was so strict and angry, she said:
- She made the trouble herself, and correct it herself; she drowned the bucket herself, and get it herself.
There was nothing to do: the poor Needlewoman again went to the well, grabbed the rope and went down it to the very bottom. Only then did a miracle happen to her. As soon as she got down, she looked: there was a stove in front of her, and in the stove there was a pie, so ruddy, fried; sits, looks and says:
- I'm quite ready, browned, fried with sugar and raisins; whoever takes me out of the oven will go with me!
The needlewoman, without any hesitation, grabbed a spatula, took out a pie and put it in her bosom.
She goes further. There is a garden in front of her, and in the garden there is a tree, and golden apples on the tree; apples move their leaves and say among themselves:
- We, liquid apples, are ripe; they ate the root of the tree, washed themselves with icy dew; whoever shakes us off the tree will take us for himself.
The needlewoman went up to the tree, shook it by the knot, and the golden apples fell down into her apron.
The needlewoman goes further.
She looks: in front of her sits an old man Moroz Ivanovich, gray-haired; he sits on an ice bench and eats snowballs; shakes his head from his hair, frost falls, he dies in spirit - thick steam pours out. - BUT! he said. Hello, Handywoman! Thank you for bringing me a pie; I haven't eaten anything hot in a long time.
Then he sat the Needlewoman next to him, and they had breakfast together with a pie, and ate golden apples.
I know why you came, says Moroz Ivanovich, you lowered a bucket into my student (well); I will give you a bucket, only you will serve me for three days; you will be smart, you are better off; If you're lazy, it's worse for you. And now, added Moroz Ivanovich, it's time for me, an old man, to rest; go and make my bed, and see if you fluff the feather bed well.
The needlewoman obeyed ... They went into the house. Moroz Ivanovich's house was made entirely of ice: the doors, the windows, and the floor were icy, and the walls were decorated with snow stars; the sun shone on them, and everything in the house shone like diamonds. On Moroz Ivanovich's bed, instead of a feather bed, lay fluffy snow; cold and there was nothing to do. The needlewoman began to whip up the snow so that the old man could sleep softer, but meanwhile her hands, poor, were ossified and her fingers turned white, like those of poor people, that in winter they rinse their linen in the hole: it’s cold, and the wind in the face, and the linen freezes, stake worth, and there is nothing to do poor people work.
Nothing, said Moroz Ivanovich, just rub your fingers with snow, and they will go away, you won’t get a chill. I'm a kind old man; look at my curiosities.
Then he lifted his snowy featherbed with a blanket, and the Needlewoman saw that green grass was breaking through under the featherbed. The needlewoman felt sorry for the poor weed.
- So you say, she said, that you are a kind old man, but why do you keep green grass under a snowy feather bed, do not let it out into the light of God?
- I don’t let it out because it’s not time yet, the grass hasn’t yet entered into force. In the fall, the peasants sowed it, it sprouted, and if it had already stretched out, then winter would have captured it, and by summer the grass would not have ripened. So I covered the young greenery with my snowy featherbed, and even lay down on it myself so that the snow would not be blown away by the wind, but then spring would come, the snowy featherbed would melt, the grass would sprout, and there, you look, grain would also look out, and the peasant would collect the grain and on will take the mill; the miller will sweep away the grain, and there will be flour, and you, Needlewoman, will bake bread from flour.
- Well, tell me, Moroz Ivanovich, said the Needlewoman, why are you sitting in the well?
- Then I sit in the well, that spring is coming, said Moroz Ivanovich. I get hot; and you know that even in summer it is cold in the well, and that is why the water in the well is cold, even in the middle of the hottest summer.

About the fairy tale

Russian folk tale "Moroz Ivanovich"

Russians are one of the most reading nations in the world. Our people read almost everywhere. On the way to work by public transport, educational institutions, in the cafe. No one is surprised by a man enthusiastically sorting through the rustling pages interesting book or frantically flipping through electronic files on a tablet. Literally everything that comes to hand is used: thrillers, fantasy, new comics, but the most beloved and popular genre Still, there were and still are fairy tales, especially Russian folk tales.

Many of them are translated into different foreign languages, according to some, they make films, but their main function is still the education of the younger generation. Cartoons are, of course, wonderful, but they do not convey the fullness of the picture, because each person has his own worldview, and not the director's vision. What can we say about children who have such an active imagination.

The fairy tale "Moroz Ivanovich", given below, should appeal to both young readers and their parents. After all, it raises simple, but very actual problems: relationships within the family, respect for the older generation, the need to work not only for their own benefit, but also for the benefit of others, this is a far from complete list of common truths that a child will discover when reading this entertaining text.

Summary of the tale

In one family lived two completely similar friend on a girl friend. One of them, her name was the Needlewoman, was very hardworking and courteous, “got up early”, and immediately “set to work”. Her sister Lenivitsa, on the contrary, liked to soak up the bed longer, “rolling over from side to side.” A “strict nanny” lived with them.

By an absurd accident, the Needlewoman dropped a bucket into the well, and the demanding nanny forced her to correct the oversight on her own: “She ... drowned herself, and get it herself.” The heroine did just that, “sank to the very bottom” and saw that the bottom of the well is an amazing parallel world. She met there the stove, with delicious hot pies, and the apple tree, with poured apples, and the old man Moroz Ivanovich, whom she treated to all this goodness.

He thanked the girl for her care and asked her to serve him for three days. The good girl agreed, she was not frightened not by the cold of her grandfather’s dwelling, not by his snowy feather bed, she diligently helped him with the housework. And when the term of service ended, Frost released the Needlewoman and for her care and efforts, not only returned her a bucket, but also presented a beautiful young lady silver coins and "a diamond on a scarf."

The girl returned home and told her sister and nanny about everything, and they, in turn, decided to send Lenivitsa in search of adventure, which, according to the old Russian tradition, turned out to be less diligent and polite than her sister. She did not take any pies or apples, because. “Laziness was” and appeared to Frost without treats. And she refused to do household chores, because she didn’t want to “tire” herself. So my grandfather had to clean and cook on his own. Three days later, she had the audacity to ask for a reward as well. Of course, her huge silver bar and diamond, given for her work, melted immediately after returning home.

In general, the plot of the children's fairy tale "Moroz Ivanovich" resembles either the Soviet fairy tale "Morozko", or the Russian reading of "Cinderella" or "Lady the Snowstorm" ... At the same time, there are some details in it that emphasize its originality, which can only be recognized just read it to the very end.

Read Russian folk tale"Moroz Ivanovich" online for free and without registration.

Once upon a time there was a Needlewoman and Sloth, and a nanny with them. The needlewoman got up early and immediately got down to business. Meanwhile, Sloth lay in bed, turning over from side to side.

Once a misfortune happened to the Needlewoman: she accidentally dropped a bucket into a well. The strict nanny says: “I drowned the bucket myself, and get it yourself!”

The Needlewoman went again to the well, grabbed the rope and went to the very bottom and sank. She looks - there is a stove in front of her, and from the stove a pie looks and says:
-  Whoever takes me, he will go with me.
The needlewoman took it out and put it in her bosom.

Together they had breakfast with a pie and apples in bulk, and then the old man said:
- I know you came for a bucket, I'll give it to you, only you serve me for three days.

And so they went to the house, and that house was all of ice, and the walls were decorated with shining snow stars, and on the bed instead of a feather bed there was snow. The Needlewoman began to beat the snow so that the old man could sleep softer, and her hands, the poor one, ossified, but she rubbed them with a snowball, and her hands moved away. And Moroz Ivanovich lifted the feather bed, and under it - green grass. The needlewoman was surprised: why the old man does not release grass into the light of God, he answered:
- The grass hasn't come into force yet. Spring will come, the feather bed will melt, the grass will grow, the grain will look out, his peasant will be swept away at the mill, and there will be flour, and you will bake bread from flour.

Then the old man lay down to sleep on a fluffy featherbed, and the Needlewoman began to bustle about the housework. So they lived for three days, and when she had to leave, Moroz Ivanovich said:
- Thank you, comforted the old man. Here is your bucket, I poured silver patches into it, and also a diamond - to stab a scarf.

The needlewoman thanked Moroz Ivanovich, went home and there told what had happened to her. Nanny says to Lenivitsa:
- You see what people get for their work! Go down into the well, find the old man and serve him.
Sloth went to the well, and bang right to the bottom. I saw a stove with a pie, a tree with poured apples - I didn’t take anything, I was too lazy. She came to Moroz Ivanovich empty-handed:
- I want to serve and get a job!
- You speak fluently. Fluff up my feather bed, clean the house, and prepare a meal.
Sloth thought: “I won’t tire myself,” and she didn’t do what Moroz Ivanovich ordered her to do.

The old man himself prepared a meal, tidied up the house and fed Lenivitsa. They lived for three days, and the girl asked for a reward.
- What was your job? - the old man was surprised. - It is you who should pay me, because I served you. Come on, what a job, what a reward.
Moroz Ivanovich gave Lenivitsa a huge silver ingot in one hand, and a large, very large diamond in the other.

The sloth of the old man did not even thank him, and joyfully ran home. Come and brag.
- Here, - he says, - I didn’t earn a couple of sisters, I didn’t earn a handful of nickels ...
Before she had time to finish, the silver ingot and the diamond melted and poured onto the floor...
And you, kids, think, guess, what is true here, what is not true, what is said for the sake of a joke, and what is for instruction ...