Taffy stories. exam

humorous stories

... For laughter is joy, and therefore in itself is good.

Spinoza. "Ethics", part IV. Proposition XLV, scholia II.

Cursed

Leshka's right leg was numb for a long time, but he did not dare to change his position and listened eagerly. It was completely dark in the corridor, and through the narrow slit of the half-open door one could see only a brightly lit piece of the wall above the kitchen stove. A large dark circle surmounted by two horns hovered on the wall. Lyoshka guessed that this circle was nothing more than a shadow from his aunt's head with the ends of the scarf sticking up.

My aunt had come to visit Lyoshka, whom she had identified only a week ago as "boys for room service," and was now in serious negotiations with the cook who had patronized her. The negotiations were of an unpleasantly disturbing character, the aunt was very agitated, and the horns on the wall rose and fell steeply, as if some kind of unseen beast gored his invisible opponents.

It was assumed that Lyoshka washes galoshes in the front. But, as you know, a person proposes, but God disposes, and Lyoshka, with a rag in his hands, was eavesdropping outside the door.

“I understood from the very beginning that he was a bungler,” the cook sang in a sweet voice. - How many times I tell him: if you, guy, are not a fool, keep your eyes open. Don't do shit, but keep your eyes open. Because - Dunyashka scrubs. And he does not lead with his ear. This morning again the lady shouted - she didn’t interfere in the stove and closed it with a firebrand.

The horns on the wall are agitated, and the aunt groans like Aeolian harp:

"Where can I go with him?" Mavra Semyonovna! I bought him boots, not to eat, not to eat, I gave him five rubles. For a jacket for alteration, a tailor, not a drink, not eaten, ripped off six hryvnias ...

- No other way than to send home.

- Cute! The road, no food, no food, four roubles, dear!

Lyoshka, forgetting all the precautions, sighs outside the door. He doesn't want to go home. His father promised that he would bring down seven skins from him, and Leshka knows from experience how unpleasant it is.

“Well, it’s still too early to howl,” the cook sings again. - So far, no one is driving him. The lady only threatened... But the tenant, Pyotr Dmitritch, is very protective. Right up the mountain for Leshka. Enough of you, says Marya Vasilievna, he says he is not a fool, Leshka. He, he says, is a uniform adeot, and there is nothing to scold him. Just a mountain for Leshka.

Well, God bless him...

- And with us, what the tenant says is sacred. Because he is a well-read person, he pays carefully ...

- And Dunya is good! - the aunt twisted her horns. - I don’t understand such a people - to let a sneak on a boy ...

- True! True. This morning I say to her: “Go open the doors, Dunyasha,” affectionately, as if in a kind way. So she snorts in my face: “I, grit, you are not a doorman, open it yourself!” And I drank it all to her. How to open doors, so you, I say, are not a porter, but how to kiss a janitor on the stairs, so you are all a doorman ...

- Lord have mercy! From these years to everything, dospying. The girl is young, to live and live. One salary, no pity, no...

- Me, what? I told her directly: how to open the doors, so you are not a doorman. She, you see, is not a doorman! And how to accept gifts from the janitor, so she is the doorman. Yes, tenant lipstick ...

Trrrr…” the electric bell crackled.

- Leshka-a! Leshka-a! cried the cook. - Oh, you, fail! Dunyasha was sent away, but he doesn’t even listen with his ear.

Lyoshka held his breath, pressed himself against the wall and stood quietly until an angry cook swam past him, angrily rattling starched skirts.

“No, pipes,” Leshka thought, “I won’t go to the village. I'm not a fool guy, I want to, I'll curry favor so quickly. Don't rub me, not like that."

And, after waiting for the return of the cook, he went with resolute steps into the rooms.

“Be, grit, in front of your eyes. And in what eyes will I be when no one is ever at home.

He went into the front. Hey! The coat hangs - the tenant of the house.

He rushed to the kitchen and, snatching the poker from the dumbfounded cook, rushed back into the rooms, quickly threw open the door to the lodger's quarters, and went to stir in the stove.

The tenant was not alone. With him was a young lady, in a jacket and under a veil. Both shuddered and straightened up when Lyoshka entered.

"I'm not a fool," Leshka thought, jabbing a poker at the burning firewood. “I’ll wet those eyes.” I’m not a parasite - I’m all in business, all in business! .. "

Firewood crackled, the poker rattled, sparks flew in all directions. The tenant and the lady were tensely silent. Finally, Lyoshka headed for the exit, but at the very door he stopped and began to anxiously examine the damp spot on the floor, then he turned his eyes to the guest's legs and, seeing galoshes on them, shook his head reproachfully.

“Here,” he said reproachfully, “they inherited it!” And then the hostess will scold me.

The guest blushed and looked at the tenant in bewilderment.

“All right, all right, go on,” he soothed embarrassedly.

And Lyoshka left, but not for long. He found a rag and returned to mop the floor.

He found the tenant and guest silently bent over the table and immersed in the contemplation of the tablecloth.

“Look, they stared,” Leshka thought, “they must have noticed the spot. They think I don't understand! Found the fool! I understand. I work like a horse!”

And, going up to the pensive couple, he diligently wiped the tablecloth under the very nose of the tenant.

- What are you? - he was afraid.

- Like what? I can't live without my eyes. Dunyashka, a slash, knows only a sneak, and she is not a janitor to look after order ... A janitor on the stairs ...

- Go away! Moron!

But the young lady, frightened, grabbed the tenant by the hand and began to whisper something.

- He will understand ... - Lyoshka heard, - servants ... gossip ...

The lady had tears of embarrassment in her eyes, and she said to Leshka in a trembling voice:

“Nothing, nothing, boy… You don’t have to close the doors when you go…”

The tenant smiled contemptuously and shrugged his shoulders.

Lyoshka left, but, having reached the front, he remembered that the lady asked not to lock the doors, and, returning, opened it.

The lodger bounced off his lady like a bullet.

“An eccentric,” Leshka thought, leaving. “It’s light in the room, and he gets scared!”

Lyoshka went into the hall, looked in the mirror, tried on the lodger's hat. Then he went into the dark dining room and scratched the cupboard door with his nails.

“Look, damn unsalted!” You're here all day, like a horse, work, and she only knows the closet locks.

I decided to go again to stir in the stove. The door to the tenant's room was closed again. Lyoshka was surprised, but he entered.

The tenant sat quietly next to the lady, but his tie was on one side, and he looked at Leshka with such a look that he only clicked his tongue:

“What are you looking at! I myself know that I am not a parasite, I do not sit idly by.”

The coals are stirred, and Lyoshka leaves, threatening that he will soon return to close the stove. A quiet half-groan-half-sigh was his answer.

Nadezhda Alexandrovna Teffi (Nadezhda Lokhvitskaya, Buchinskaya by her husband) is a poetess, memoirist, critic, publicist, but above all, one of the most famous satirical writers Silver Age, competing with Averchenko himself. After the revolution, Teffi emigrated, but in exile her extraordinary talent blossomed even brighter. It was there that many of Teffi's classic stories were written, from a very unexpected side, depicting the life and customs of the "Russian Diaspora" ...

The collection includes Teffi's stories of different years, written both at home and in Europe. Before the reader passes a real gallery of funny, bright characters, in many of which real contemporaries of the writer are guessed - people of art and politicians, famous "socialites" and patrons, revolutionaries and their opponents.

taffy
humorous stories

... For laughter is joy, and therefore in itself is good.

Spinoza. "Ethics", part IV.

Position XLV, scholia II.

Cursed

Leshka's right leg was numb for a long time, but he did not dare to change his position and listened eagerly. It was completely dark in the corridor, and through the narrow slit of the half-open door one could see only a brightly lit piece of the wall above the kitchen stove. A large dark circle surmounted by two horns hovered on the wall. Lyoshka guessed that this circle was nothing more than a shadow from his aunt's head with the ends of the scarf sticking up.

My aunt came to visit Lyoshka, whom she had identified only a week ago as "boys for room service," and was now in serious negotiations with the cook who had patronized her. The negotiations were of an unpleasantly disturbing nature, the aunt was very agitated, and the horns on the wall rose and fell abruptly, as if some unseen beast butted their invisible opponents.

It was assumed that Lyoshka washes galoshes in the front. But, as you know, a person proposes, but God disposes, and Lyoshka, with a rag in his hands, was eavesdropping outside the door.

“I understood from the very beginning that he was a bungler,” the cook sang in a sweet voice. - How many times I tell him: if you, guy, are not a fool, keep your eyes open. Don't do shit, but keep your eyes open. Because - Dunyashka scrubs. And he does not lead with his ear. This morning again the lady shouted - she didn’t interfere in the stove and closed it with a firebrand.

The horns on the wall are agitated, and the aunt groans like an aeolian harp:

"Where can I go with him?" Mavra Semyonovna! I bought him boots, not to eat, not to eat, I gave him five rubles. For a jacket for alteration, a tailor, not a drink, not eaten, ripped off six hryvnias ...

- No other way than to send home.

- Cute! The road, no food, no food, four roubles, dear!

Lyoshka, forgetting all the precautions, sighs outside the door. He doesn't want to go home. His father promised that he would bring down seven skins from him, and Leshka knows from experience how unpleasant it is.

“Well, it’s still too early to howl,” the cook sings again. - So far, no one is driving him. The lady only threatened... But the tenant, Pyotr Dmitritch, is very protective. Right up the mountain for Leshka. Enough of you, says Marya Vasilievna, he says he is not a fool, Leshka. He, he says, is a uniform adeot, and there is nothing to scold him. Just a mountain for Leshka.

Well, God bless him...

- And with us, what the tenant says is sacred. Because he is a well-read person, he pays carefully ...

- And Dunya is good! - the aunt twisted her horns. - I don’t understand such a people - to let a sneak on a boy ...

- True! True. This morning I say to her: "Go open the doors, Dunyasha," affectionately, as if kindly. So she will snort me in the face: "I, grit, you are not a doorman, open it yourself!" And I drank it all to her. How to open doors, so you, I say, are not a porter, but how to kiss a janitor on the stairs, so you are all a doorman ...

- Lord have mercy! From these years to everything, dospying. The girl is young, to live and live. One salary, no pity, no...

- Me, what? I told her directly: how to open the doors, so you are not a doorman. She, you see, is not a doorman! And how to accept gifts from the janitor, so she is the doorman. Yes, tenant lipstick ...

Trrrr…” the electric bell crackled.

- Leshka-a! Leshka-a! cried the cook. - Oh, you, fail! Dunyasha was sent away, but he doesn’t even listen with his ear.

Lyoshka held his breath, pressed himself against the wall and stood quietly until an angry cook swam past him, angrily rattling starched skirts.

“No, pipes,” thought Lyoshka, “I won’t go to the village. I’m not a fool, I want to, I’ll serve so quickly.

And, after waiting for the return of the cook, he went with resolute steps into the rooms.

"Be, grit, in front of your eyes. And what kind of eyes will I be when no one is ever at home."

He went into the front. Hey! The coat hangs - the tenant of the house.

He rushed to the kitchen and, snatching the poker from the dumbfounded cook, rushed back into the rooms, quickly threw open the door to the lodger's quarters, and went to stir in the stove.

The tenant was not alone. With him was a young lady, in a jacket and under a veil. Both shuddered and straightened up when Lyoshka entered.

"I'm not a fool," Leshka thought, poking his poker at the burning firewood.

Firewood crackled, the poker rattled, sparks flew in all directions. The tenant and the lady were tensely silent. Finally, Lyoshka headed for the exit, but at the very door he stopped and began to anxiously examine the damp spot on the floor, then he turned his eyes to the guest's legs and, seeing galoshes on them, shook his head reproachfully.

Nadezhda Alexandrovna Teffi spoke about herself to the nephew of the Russian artist Vereshchagin Vladimir: “I was born in St. Petersburg in the spring, and as you know, our St. Petersburg spring is very changeable: the sun is shining, then it's raining. Therefore, I also have, as on the pediment of the ancient Greek theater, two faces: laughing and crying.

Surprisingly happy was the writer's fate Teffi. Already by 1910, becoming one of the most popular writers in Russia, she is published in the largest and most famous newspapers and magazines of St. Petersburg, N. Gumilyov responded to her collection of poems "Seven Lights" (1910) with a positive review, Teffi's plays are in theaters, collections of her stories are published one after another. Taffy witticisms are on everyone's lips. Her fame is so wide that even Teffi perfumes and Teffi candies appear.

Nadezhda Alexandrovna Teffi.

At first glance, it seems that everyone understands what a fool is and why a fool is the more stupid, the rounder.

However, if you listen and look closely, you will understand how often people are mistaken, taking the most ordinary stupid or stupid person for a fool.

What a fool, people say. He always has nothing in his head! They think that a fool sometimes has trifles in his head!

The fact of the matter is that a real round fool is recognized, first of all, by his greatest and most unshakable seriousness. Most clever man can be windy and act thoughtlessly - a fool constantly discusses everything; having discussed, he acts accordingly and, having acted, knows why he did it this way and not otherwise.

Nadezhda Alexandrovna Teffi.

People are very proud that in their everyday life there is a lie. Her black power is glorified by poets and playwrights.

“The darkness of low truths is dearer to us than the uplifting deceit,” thinks the traveling salesman, posing as an attaché at the French embassy.

But, in essence, a lie, no matter how great, or subtle, or clever, it will never go beyond the most ordinary human actions, because, like all such, it comes from a cause! and leads to the goal. What is extraordinary here?

Nadezhda Alexandrovna Teffi.

We divide all people in relation to us into "us" and "strangers".

Ours are those that we probably know about, how old they are and how much money they have.

The years and money of strangers are hidden from us completely and forever, and if for some reason this secret is revealed to us, strangers will instantly turn into their own, and this last circumstance is extremely disadvantageous for us, and here's why: they consider it their duty to cut the truth in your eyes without fail -womb, while strangers should delicately lie.

The more a person has his own, the more he knows about himself bitter truths and the harder it is for him to live in the world.

You will meet, for example, a stranger on the street. He will smile at you kindly and say:

Nadezhda Alexandrovna Teffi.

It certainly happens quite often that a person, having written two letters, seals them up by mixing up the envelopes. From this then all sorts of funny or unpleasant stories come out.

And since it happens for the most part With. scattered and frivolous people, then they, somehow in their own way, in a frivolous way, extricate themselves from a stupid situation.

But if such a misfortune slams a family man, a respectable one, then there’s not much fun here.

Nadezhda Alexandrovna Teffi.

It was a long time ago. This was four months ago.

We sat in the fragrant southern night on the banks of the Arno.

That is, we were not sitting on the shore - where to sit there: damp and dirty, and indecent, but we were sitting on the balcony of the hotel, but it’s customary to say so for poetry.

The company was mixed - Russian-Italian.

Nadezhda Alexandrovna Teffi.

A demonic woman differs from an ordinary woman primarily in her manner of dressing. She wears a black velvet cassock, a chain on her forehead, a bracelet on her leg, a ring with a hole “for cyanide, which they will certainly bring to her next Tuesday”, a stiletto behind her collar, a rosary on her elbow and a portrait of Oscar Wilde on her left garter.

She also wears ordinary items of ladies' toiletry, but not in the place where they are supposed to be. So, for example, a demonic woman will allow herself to wear a belt only on her head, an earring - on her forehead or neck, a ring - on thumb, watch - on the leg.

At the table, the demonic woman does not eat anything. She never eats at all.

Nadezhda Alexandrovna Teffi.

Nadezhda Alexandrovna Teffi.

Ivan Matveitch, parting his lips sadly, watched with submissive melancholy as the doctor's hammer, rebounding elastically, clicked on his thick sides.

Well, yes, said the doctor, and walked away from Ivan Matveitch. You can't drink, that's what. Do you drink a lot?

One glass before breakfast and two before dinner. Cognac, the patient answered sadly and sincerely.

N-yes. All this will have to be abandoned. There you have a liver somewhere. Is it possible?

Nadezhda Aleksandrovna Teffi (Nadezhda Lokhvitskaya, Buchinskaya by her husband) is a poetess, memoirist, critic, publicist, but above all, one of the most famous satirical writers of the Silver Age, competing with Averchenko himself. After the revolution, Teffi emigrated, but in exile her outstanding talent blossomed even brighter. It was there that many of Teffi's classic stories were written, from a very unexpected side, depicting the life and customs of the "Russian Diaspora" ...

The collection includes Teffi's stories of different years, written both at home and in Europe. The reader passes through a real gallery of funny, bright characters, in many of which real contemporaries of the writer are guessed - people of art and politicians, famous "socialites" and patrons of the arts, revolutionaries and their opponents.

taffy
humorous stories

... For laughter is joy, and therefore in itself is good.

Spinoza. "Ethics", part IV.

Position XLV, scholia II.

Cursed

Leshka's right leg was numb for a long time, but he did not dare to change his position and listened eagerly. It was completely dark in the corridor, and through the narrow slit of the half-open door one could see only a brightly lit piece of the wall above the kitchen stove. A large dark circle surmounted by two horns hovered on the wall. Lyoshka guessed that this circle was nothing more than a shadow from his aunt's head with the ends of the scarf sticking up.

My aunt came to visit Lyoshka, whom she had identified only a week ago as "boys for room service," and was now in serious negotiations with the cook who had patronized her. The negotiations were of an unpleasantly disturbing nature, the aunt was very agitated, and the horns on the wall rose and fell abruptly, as if some unseen beast butted their invisible opponents.

It was assumed that Lyoshka washes galoshes in the front. But, as you know, a person proposes, but God disposes, and Lyoshka, with a rag in his hands, was eavesdropping outside the door.

“I understood from the very beginning that he was a bungler,” the cook sang in a sweet voice. - How many times I tell him: if you, guy, are not a fool, keep your eyes open. Don't do shit, but keep your eyes open. Because - Dunyashka scrubs. And he does not lead with his ear. This morning again the lady shouted - she didn’t interfere in the stove and closed it with a firebrand.

The horns on the wall are agitated, and the aunt groans like an aeolian harp:

"Where can I go with him?" Mavra Semyonovna! I bought him boots, not to eat, not to eat, I gave him five rubles. For a jacket for alteration, a tailor, not a drink, not eaten, ripped off six hryvnias ...

- No other way than to send home.

- Cute! The road, no food, no food, four roubles, dear!

Lyoshka, forgetting all the precautions, sighs outside the door. He doesn't want to go home. His father promised that he would bring down seven skins from him, and Leshka knows from experience how unpleasant it is.

“Well, it’s still too early to howl,” the cook sings again. - So far, no one is driving him. The lady only threatened... But the tenant, Pyotr Dmitritch, is very protective. Right up the mountain for Leshka. Enough of you, says Marya Vasilievna, he says he is not a fool, Leshka. He, he says, is a uniform adeot, and there is nothing to scold him. Just a mountain for Leshka.

Well, God bless him...

- And with us, what the tenant says is sacred. Because he is a well-read person, he pays carefully ...

- And Dunya is good! - the aunt twisted her horns. - I don’t understand such a people - to let a sneak on a boy ...

- True! True. This morning I say to her: "Go open the doors, Dunyasha," affectionately, as if kindly. So she will snort me in the face: "I, grit, you are not a doorman, open it yourself!" And I drank it all to her. How to open doors, so you, I say, are not a porter, but how to kiss a janitor on the stairs, so you are all a doorman ...

- Lord have mercy! From these years to everything, dospying. The girl is young, to live and live. One salary, no pity, no...

- Me, what? I told her directly: how to open the doors, so you are not a doorman. She, you see, is not a doorman! And how to accept gifts from the janitor, so she is the doorman. Yes, tenant lipstick ...

Trrrr…” the electric bell crackled.

- Leshka-a! Leshka-a! cried the cook. - Oh, you, fail! Dunyasha was sent away, but he doesn’t even listen with his ear.

Lyoshka held his breath, pressed himself against the wall and stood quietly until an angry cook swam past him, angrily rattling starched skirts.

“No, pipes,” thought Lyoshka, “I won’t go to the village. I’m not a fool, I want to, I’ll serve so quickly.

And, after waiting for the return of the cook, he went with resolute steps into the rooms.

"Be, grit, in front of your eyes. And what kind of eyes will I be when no one is ever at home."

He went into the front. Hey! The coat hangs - the tenant of the house.

He rushed to the kitchen and, snatching the poker from the dumbfounded cook, rushed back into the rooms, quickly threw open the door to the lodger's quarters, and went to stir in the stove.

The tenant was not alone. With him was a young lady, in a jacket and under a veil. Both shuddered and straightened up when Lyoshka entered.

"I'm not a fool," Leshka thought, poking his poker at the burning firewood.

Firewood crackled, the poker rattled, sparks flew in all directions. The tenant and the lady were tensely silent. Finally, Lyoshka headed for the exit, but at the very door he stopped and began to anxiously examine the damp spot on the floor, then he turned his eyes to the guest's legs and, seeing galoshes on them, shook his head reproachfully.