In Yu Dragoon Deniskin's stories to read. Deniskin's stories of Viktor Dragunsky

Viktor Yuzefovich Dragunsky

Deniska's stories

© Dragunsky V. Yu., heirs, 2014

© Dragunskaya K. V., foreword, 2014

© Chizhikov V. A., afterword, 2014

© Losin V. N., illustrations, heritage, 2014

© LLC AST Publishing House, 2015

About my dad

When I was little, I had a dad. Viktor Dragunsky. Famous children's writer. Only no one believed me that he was my dad. And I screamed: “This is my dad, dad, dad!!!” And she started to fight. Everyone thought he was my grandfather. Because he was no longer very young. I - late baby. Junior. I have two older brothers - Lenya and Denis. They are smart, scholarly, and quite bald. But they know a lot more stories about dad than I do. But since it wasn’t them who became children’s writers, but I, then they usually ask me to write something about dad.

My dad was born a long time ago. In 2013, on the first of December, he would have turned one hundred years old. And not somewhere there he was born, but in New York. This is how it happened - his mom and dad were very young, got married and left the Belarusian city of Gomel for America, for happiness and wealth. I don’t know about happiness, but they didn’t work out with wealth at all. They ate exclusively bananas, and in the house where they lived, hefty rats ran. And they returned back to Gomel, and after a while they moved to Moscow, to Pokrovka. There my dad did not study well at school, but he liked to read books. Then he worked at a factory, studied acting and worked in the Theater of Satire, and also as a clown in a circus and wore a red wig. Maybe that's why I have red hair. And as a child, I also wanted to be a clown.

Dear readers!!! People often ask me how my dad is doing, and they ask me to ask him to write something else - bigger and funnier. I don’t want to upset you, but my dad died a long time ago when I was only six years old, that is, more than thirty years ago, it turns out. Therefore, I remember very few cases about him.

One such case. My dad was very fond of dogs. He always dreamed of getting a dog, only his mother did not allow him, but finally, when I was five and a half years old, a spaniel puppy named Toto appeared in our house. So wonderful. Eared, spotted and with thick paws. He had to be fed six times a day, like a baby, which made mom a little angry ... And then one day my dad and I come from somewhere or just sit at home alone, and we want to eat something. We go to the kitchen and find a saucepan with semolina, and so tasty (I generally can’t stand semolina) that we immediately eat it. And then it turns out that this is Totoshina porridge, which my mother specially cooked in advance to mix it with some vitamins, as it should be for puppies. Mom was offended, of course. Outrageous is a children's writer, an adult, and ate puppy porridge.

They say that in his youth my dad was terribly cheerful, he was always inventing something, around him there were always the coolest and witty people in Moscow, and at home we always had noisy, fun, laughter, a holiday, a feast and solid celebrities. Unfortunately, I don’t remember this anymore - when I was born and grew up a little, dad was very ill with hypertension, high blood pressure, and it was impossible to make noise in the house. My friends, who are now quite adult aunts, still remember that I had to walk on tiptoe so as not to disturb my dad. Somehow they didn’t even let me in to see him very much, so that I wouldn’t disturb him. But I still penetrated to him, and we played - I was a frog, and dad was a respected and kind lion.

My dad and I also went to eat bagels on Chekhov Street, there was such a bakery with bagels and a milkshake. We were also in the circus on Tsvetnoy Boulevard, we sat very close, and when the clown Yuri Nikulin saw my dad (and they worked together in the circus before the war), he was very happy, took a microphone from the ringmaster and sang “The Song about Hares” especially for us .

My dad also collected bells, we have a whole collection at home, and now I continue to replenish it.

If you read "Deniska's Stories" attentively, you will understand how sad they are. Not all, of course, but some - just very much. I won't name now which ones. You yourself read and feel. And then - let's check. Some are surprised, they say, how did an adult manage to penetrate the soul of a child, speak on his behalf, just as if the child himself had told it? .. And it’s very simple - dad remained a little boy all his life. Exactly! A person does not have time to grow up at all - life is too short. A person only manages to learn how to eat without getting dirty, walk without falling, do something there, smoke, lie, shoot from a machine gun, or vice versa - treat, teach ... All people are children. Well, at least almost everything. Only they don't know about it.

I don't remember much about my dad. But I can compose all sorts of stories - funny, strange and sad. I have this from him.

And my son Tema is very similar to my dad. Well, spilled! In the house in Karetny Ryad, where we live in Moscow, there are elderly pop artists who remember my dad when he was young. And they call Theme just that - "Dragoon offspring." And we, along with Tema, love dogs. We have a lot of dogs at the dacha, and those that are not ours just come to us for lunch. Once a striped dog came, we treated her to a cake, and she liked it so much that she ate and barked with joy with her mouth full.

Xenia Dragunskaya

"He's alive and glowing..."

One evening I was sitting in the yard, near the sand, and waiting for my mother. She probably lingered at the institute, or in the store, or, perhaps, stood for a long time on bus stop. Don't know. Only all the parents of our yard had already come, and all the guys went home with them and probably already drank tea with bagels and cheese, but my mother was still not there ...

And now the lights in the windows began to light up, and the radio began to play music, and dark clouds moved in the sky - they looked like bearded old men ...

And I wanted to eat, but my mother was still not there, and I thought that if I knew that my mother was hungry and was waiting for me somewhere at the end of the world, I would immediately run to her, and would not be late and would not made her sit on the sand and get bored.

And at that moment Mishka came out into the yard. He said:

- Great!

And I said

- Great!

Mishka sat down with me and picked up a dump truck.

- Wow! Mishka said. - Where did you get it? Does he pick up the sand himself? Not by myself? Does he dump himself? Yes? And the pen? What is she for? Can it be rotated? Yes? BUT? Wow! Will you give it to me at home?

I said:

- No I will not give. Gift. Dad gave before leaving.

The bear pouted and moved away from me. It got even darker outside.

I looked at the gate so as not to miss when my mother comes. But she didn't go. Apparently, I met Aunt Rosa, and they stand and talk and do not even think about me. I lay down on the sand.

Mishka says:

- Can you give me a dump truck?

- Get off, Mishka.

Current page: 1 (total book has 6 pages) [available reading excerpt: 2 pages]

Victor Dragunsky
Deniska's stories

Paul's Englishman

“Tomorrow is the first of September,” my mother said, “and now autumn has come, and you will go to the second grade already. Oh, how time flies!

- And on this occasion, - dad picked up, - we will now "slaughter a watermelon"!

And he took a knife and cut the watermelon. When he cut, such a full, pleasant, green crackle was heard that my back turned cold with a premonition of how I would eat this watermelon. And I had already opened my mouth to clutch at a pink watermelon slice, but then the door opened and Pavel entered the room. We were all terribly happy, because he had not been with us for a long time, and we missed him.

- Whoa, who's here! Dad said. - Pavel himself. Pavel the Warthog himself!

“Sit down with us, Pavlik, there is a watermelon,” my mother said. - Deniska, move over.

I said:

- Hi! - and gave him a place next to him.

He said:

- Hi! - and sat down.

And we began to eat, and ate for a long time, and were silent. We didn't feel like talking. And what is there to talk about when there is such deliciousness in the mouth!

And when Paul was given the third piece, he said:

Oh, I love watermelon. Even more. My grandmother never lets me eat it.

- And why? Mom asked.

- She says that after a watermelon I get not a dream, but a continuous running around.

“Really,” Dad said. - That's why we eat watermelon early in the morning. By evening, its action ends and you can sleep peacefully. Come on, don't be afraid.

“I am not afraid,” said Pavel.

And we all got down to business again, and again we were silent for a long time. And when mom began to remove the crusts, dad said:

“And why, Pavel, haven’t been with us for so long?”

“Yes,” I said. - Where have you been? What did you do?

And then Pavel puffed up, blushed, looked around, and suddenly casually let slip, as if reluctantly:

- What did he do, what did he do ... He studied English, that's what he did.

I was right in a hurry. I immediately realized that all summer was in vain. He fiddled with hedgehogs, played bast shoes, dealt with trifles. But Pavel, he did not waste time, no, you're naughty, he worked on himself, he raised his level of education. He studied English language and now I suppose he will be able to correspond with the English pioneers and read English books! I immediately felt that I was dying of envy, and then my mother added:

- Here, Deniska, study. This is not your lappet!

- Well done, - said dad, - respect!

Pavel directly beamed:

- A student, Seva, came to visit us. So he works with me every day. It's been two whole months now. Just completely tortured.

What about difficult English? I asked.

"Go crazy," Pavel sighed.

“It wouldn’t be difficult,” Dad intervened. - The devil himself will break his leg there. Very difficult spelling. It is spelled Liverpool and pronounced Manchester.

- Well, yes! - I said. - Right, Pavel?

- It’s just a disaster, - said Pavel, - I was completely exhausted from these activities, I lost two hundred grams.

- So why don't you use your knowledge, Pavlik? Mom said. “Why didn’t you say hello to us in English when you came in?”

“I haven’t gone through hello yet,” said Pavel.

- Well, you ate a watermelon, why didn’t you say “thank you”?

“I said,” Pavel said.

- Well, yes, you said in Russian, but in English?

“We haven’t reached the “thank you” yet,” Pavel said. – Very difficult preaching.

Then I said:

- Pavel, and you teach me how to say “one, two, three” in English.

“I haven’t studied it yet,” Pavel said.

– What did you study? I shouted. Have you learned anything in two months?

“I learned how to speak English Petya,” said Pavel.

- Well, how?

“True,” I said. – Well, what else do you know in English?

“That’s all for now,” Pavel said.

watermelon lane

I came from the yard after football tired and dirty, like I don’t know who. I had fun because we beat house number five with a score of 44:37. Thank God there was no one in the bathroom. I quickly rinsed my hands, ran into the room and sat down at the table. I said:

- I, mother, can now eat a bull.

She smiled.

- A live bull? - she said.

“Aha,” I said, “alive, with hooves and nostrils!”

Mom immediately left and returned a second later with a plate in her hands. The plate smoked so nicely, and I immediately guessed that there was pickle in it. Mom put the plate in front of me.

– Eat! Mom said.

But it was noodles. Dairy. All in foam. It is almost the same as semolina. There are always lumps in porridge, and foam in noodles. I just die as soon as I see foam, not to eat. I said:

– I will not noodles!

Mom said:

- No talking!

- There are foams!

Mom said:

- You will drive me into a coffin! What foams? Who do you look like? You are the spitting image of Koschey!

I said:

“Better kill me!”

But my mother blushed all over and slammed her hand on the table:

- You're killing me!

And then dad came in. He looked at us and asked:

- What is the discussion about? Why such a heated debate?

Mom said:

- Enjoy! Doesn't want to eat. The guy will soon be eleven years old, and he, like a girl, is naughty.

I'm almost nine. But my mother always says that I'll be eleven soon. When I was eight years old, she said that I would soon be ten.

Papa said:

- Why doesn't he want to? What, the soup is burnt or too salty?

I said:

- This is noodles, and there are foams in it ...

Papa shook his head.

- Ah, that's it! His Excellency Von-Baron Kutkin-Putkin does not want to eat milk noodles! He should probably serve marzipans on a silver tray!

I laughed because I love it when dad jokes.

- What is marzipan?

“I don’t know,” Dad said, “probably something sweet and smells like cologne.” Especially for the von-baron Kutkin-Putkin!.. Well, let's eat noodles!

- Yes, foams!

- You're stuck, brother, that's what! Dad said and turned to mom. “Take his noodles,” he said, “otherwise I just hate it!” He doesn't want porridge, he can't have noodles!.. What whims! I can not stand!..

He sat down on a chair and looked at me. His face was as if I was a stranger to him. He did not say anything, but only looked like this - in a strange way. And I immediately stopped smiling - I realized that the jokes were already over. And dad was so silent for a long time, and we were all so silent, and then he said, and as if not to me, and not to my mother, but to someone who is his friend:

“No, I’ll probably never forget that terrible autumn,” dad said, “how sad, uncomfortable it was then in Moscow ... War, the Nazis are rushing to the city. It's cold, hungry, adults all walk around frowning, they listen to the radio every hour ... Well, everything is clear, isn't it? I was then about eleven or twelve years old, and, most importantly, then I grew very quickly, stretched upward, and I was terribly hungry all the time. I didn't have enough food. I always asked my parents for bread, but they didn’t have enough, and they gave me theirs, but I didn’t have enough of that either. And I went to bed hungry, and in my dream I saw bread. Yes that … Everyone was like that. The history is known. Written, rewritten, read, reread...

And then one day I was walking along a small alley, not far from our house, and suddenly I saw a hefty truck, littered to the top with watermelons. I don't even know how they got to Moscow. Some stray watermelons. They must have been brought in to give out cards. And upstairs in the car there is an uncle, so thin, unshaven and toothless, or something - his mouth is very retracted. And so he takes a watermelon and throws it to his friend, and he - to the saleswoman in white, and she - to someone else fourth ... And they do it so cleverly in a chain: the watermelon rolls along the conveyor from the car to the store. And if you look from the side - people play green-striped balls, and this is very interesting game. I stood like that for a long time and looked at them, and the uncle, who is very thin, also looked at me and kept smiling at me with his toothless mouth, a nice man. But then I got tired of standing and already wanted to go home, when suddenly someone in their chain made a mistake, looked, or something, or simply missed, and please - trrah! .. The heavy watermelon suddenly fell on the pavement. Right next to me. It cracked somehow crookedly, sideways, and a snow-white thin crust was visible, and behind it such a purple, red flesh with sugar streaks and obliquely set bones, as if the sly eyes of a watermelon looked at me and smiled from the middle. And here, when I saw this wonderful pulp and splashes of watermelon juice, and when I smelled this smell, so fresh and strong, only then I realized how much I want to eat. But I turned around and went home. And I did not have time to move away, suddenly I hear - they are calling:

"Boy, boy!"

I looked around, and this worker of mine, who is toothless, is running towards me, and he has a broken watermelon in his hands. He says:

“Come on, honey, watermelon, drag it, eat at home!”

And I did not have time to look back, and he had already thrust me a watermelon and was running to his place, further unloading. And I hugged the watermelon and barely dragged it home, and called my friend Valka, and we both ate this huge watermelon. Ah, what a treat it was! Can't be transferred! Valka and I cut off huge pieces, the entire width of the watermelon, and when we bit, the edges of the watermelon slices touched our ears, and our ears were wet, and pink watermelon juice dripped from them. And the bellies of Valka and I swelled up and also looked like watermelons. If you click on such a belly with your finger, you know what kind of ringing will go! Like a drum. And we regretted only one thing, that we had no bread, otherwise we would have eaten even better. Yes…

Dad turned away and looked out the window.

- And then it got even worse - autumn turned around, - he said, - it became completely cold, winter, dry and fine snow fell from the sky, and it was immediately blown away by a dry and sharp wind. And we had very little food, and the Nazis went on and on towards Moscow, and I was hungry all the time. And now I dreamed not only of bread. I also dreamed of watermelons. And one morning I saw that I didn’t have a stomach at all, it just seemed to be stuck to the spine, and I couldn’t think about anything except food. And I called Valka and told him:

“Let’s go, Valka, let’s go to that watermelon lane, maybe they are unloading watermelons there again, and maybe one will fall again, and maybe they will give it to us again.”

And we wrapped ourselves in some kind of grandmother's scarves, because the cold was terrible, and went to the watermelon lane. It was a gray day outside, there were few people, and it was quiet in Moscow, not like now. There was no one at all in the watermelon alley, and we stood in front of the store doors and waited for the watermelon truck to arrive. And it was already getting dark, but he still did not come. I said:

“Probably coming tomorrow…”

“Yes,” said Valka, “probably tomorrow.”

And we went home with him. And the next day we went to the alley again, and again in vain. And every day we walked like this and waited, but the truck didn’t come…

Papa was silent. He looked out the window, and his eyes were as if he was seeing something that neither I nor my mother could see. Mom came up to him, but dad immediately got up and left the room. Mom followed him. And I was left alone. I sat and also looked out the window, where papa was looking, and it seemed to me that I was seeing papa and his comrade right now, how they trembled and waited. The wind beats on them, and the snow too, but they tremble and wait, and wait, and wait ... And this just made me terribly, and I directly grabbed my plate and quickly, spoon by spoon, sipped it all, and then tilted to himself, and drank the rest, and wiped the bottom with bread, and licked the spoon.

Would…

Once I sat and sat, and for no reason at all suddenly thought up such a thing that I was even surprised myself. I thought that this is how good it would be if everything around the world was arranged the other way around. Well, for example, so that children are in charge in all matters, and adults should have to obey them in everything, in everything. In general, adults should be like children, and children like adults. That would be great, it would be very interesting.

Firstly, I imagine how my mother would “like” such a story that I go around and command her as I want, and dad would probably “like” it too, but there’s nothing to say about my grandmother. Needless to say, I would remember them all! For example, my mother would be sitting at dinner, and I would say to her:

“Why did you start a fashion without bread? Here's more news! Look at yourself in the mirror, who do you look like? Poured Koschey! Eat now, they tell you! - And she would eat with her head down, and I would only give the command: - Faster! Don't hold your cheek! Thinking again? Are you solving the world's problems? Chew properly! And don't rock in your chair!"

And then dad would come in after work, and he wouldn’t even have time to undress, and I would have already screamed:

"Yeah, he showed up! You always have to wait! My hands now! As it should, as it should be mine, there is nothing to smear the dirt. After you, the towel is scary to look at. Brush three and do not spare soap. Come on, show me your nails! It's horror, not nails. It's just claws! Where are the scissors? Don't move! I do not cut with any meat, but I cut it very carefully. Don't sniffle, you're not a girl... That's it. Now sit down at the table."

He would sit down and quietly say to his mother:

"Well, how are you?!"

And she would also say quietly:

"Nothing, thanks!"

And I would immediately:

“Table talkers! When I eat, I am deaf and dumb! Remember this for the rest of your life. Golden Rule! Dad! Put down the newspaper now, you are my punishment!”

And they would sit with me like silk, and when my grandmother came, I would squint, clasp my hands and wail:

"Dad! Mother! Admire our grandmother! What a view! The chest is open, the hat is on the back of the head! Cheeks are red, the whole neck is wet! Okay, nothing to say. Admit it, did you play hockey again? What is that dirty stick? Why did you bring her into the house? What? Is this a stick? Get her out of my sight right now—to the back door!”

Then I would walk around the room and say to all three of them:

“After dinner, everyone sit down for lessons, and I’ll go to the cinema!” Of course, they would immediately whine and whimper:

“And we are with you! And we also want to go to the cinema!”

And I would them:

“Nothing, nothing! Yesterday we went to a birthday party, on Sunday I took you to the circus! Look! I enjoyed having fun every day. Sit at home! Here you have thirty kopecks for ice cream, and that’s it!”

Then the grandmother would pray:

“Take me at least! After all, each child can bring one adult with them for free!”

But I would shirk, I would say:

“And people over seventy years old are not allowed to enter this picture. Stay at home, you bastard!"

And I would walk past them, deliberately tapping my heels loudly, as if I didn’t notice that their eyes were all wet, and I would start getting dressed, and I would turn around in front of the mirror for a long time, and sing, and they would be even worse from this. were tormented, and I would open the door to the stairs and say ...

But I did not have time to think of what I would say, because at that time my mother came in, the real one, alive, and said:

Are you still sitting? Eat now, look who you look like? Poured Koschey!

“Where is it seen, where is it heard…”

During the break, our October counselor Lucy ran up to me and said:

- Deniska, can you perform at the concert? We decided to organize two kids to be satirists. Want?

I say:

- I want it all! Only you explain: what are satirists?

Lucy says:

- You see, we have various problems ... Well, for example, losers or lazy people, they need to be caught. Understood? It is necessary to speak about them so that everyone laughs, this will have a sobering effect on them.

I say:

They are not drunk, they are just lazy.

“That’s what they say: “sobering,” Lucy laughed. – But in fact, these guys will just think about it, they will become embarrassed, and they will improve. Understood? Well, in general, do not pull: if you want - agree, if you don’t want - refuse!

I said:

- All right, come on!

Then Lucy asked:

- Do you have a partner?

Lucy was surprised.

How do you live without a friend?

- I have a comrade, Mishka. And there is no partner.

Lucy smiled again.

- It's almost the same thing. Is he musical, is your Bear?

- No, ordinary.

- Can you sing?

“Very quiet… But I’ll teach him to sing louder, don’t worry.”

Here Lucy was delighted:

- After the lessons, drag him to the small hall, there will be a rehearsal!

And I set off with all my legs to look for Mishka. He stood in the buffet and ate sausage.

- Mishka, do you want to be a satirist?

And he said:

- Wait, let me eat.

I stood and watched him eat. He is small, and the sausage is thicker than his neck. He held this sausage with his hands and ate it straight whole, without cutting it, and the skin cracked and burst when he bit it, and hot odorous juice splashed from there.

And I could not stand it and said to Aunt Katya:

- Give me, please, also a sausage, quickly!

And Aunt Katya immediately handed me a bowl. And I was in a hurry so that Mishka would not have time to eat his sausage without me: I alone would not be so tasty. And so I also took my sausage with my hands and, without cleaning it, began to gnaw it, and hot odorous juice splashed out of it. And Mishka and I gnawed like that for a couple, and burned ourselves, and looked at each other, and smiled.

And then I told him that we would be satirists, and he agreed, and we barely made it to the end of the lessons, and then ran to the small hall for a rehearsal. Our counselor Lucy was already sitting there, and with her was one boy, about the fourth, very ugly, with small ears and big eyes.

Lucy said:

– Here they are! Meet our school poet Andrey Shestakov.

We said:

– Great!

And they turned away so that he would not ask.

And the poet said to Lucy:

- What is it, performers, or what?

He said:

“Was there really nothing better?”

Lucy said:

- Just what you need!

But then our singing teacher Boris Sergeevich came. He went straight to the piano.

- Come on, let's start! Where are the verses?

Andryushka took a piece of paper out of his pocket and said:

- Here. I took the meter and chorus from Marshak, from a fairy tale about a donkey, grandfather and grandson: “Where has this been seen, where has it been heard ...”

Boris Sergeevich nodded.

Dad studies for Vasya all year.

Dad decides, and Vasya gives up?!

Mishka and I just jumped. Of course, the guys quite often ask their parents to solve the problem for them, and then show the teacher as if they were such heroes. And at the board, no boom-boom - deuce! The case is well known. Oh yes Andryushka, he caught it great!

Chalk lined asphalt into squares,
Manechka and Tanechka are jumping here,
Where is it seen, where is it heard -
They play "classes" but don't go to class?!

It's great again. We really enjoyed! This Andryushka is just a real fellow, like Pushkin!

Boris Sergeevich said:

- Nothing, not bad! And the music will be the simplest, something like that. - And he took Andryushka's verses and, quietly strumming, sang them all in a row.

It turned out very cleverly, we even clapped our hands.

And Boris Sergeevich said:

- Well, sir, who are our performers?

And Lucy pointed at Mishka and me:

- Well, - said Boris Sergeevich, - Misha has a good ear ... True, Deniska does not sing very correctly.

I said:

- But it's loud.

And we began to repeat these verses to the music and repeated them probably fifty or a thousand times, and I yelled very loudly, and everyone calmed me down and made comments:

- Do not worry! You are quiet! Calm down! Don't be so loud!

Andryushka was especially excited. He completely blew me away. But I only sang loudly, I didn't want to sing softer, because real singing is exactly when it's loud!

... And then one day, when I came to school, I saw an announcement in the locker room:

ATTENTION!

Today at a big break

there will be a performance in the small hall

flying patrol

« Pioneer Satyricon»!

Performed by a duet of kids!

One day!

Come all!

And something immediately clicked in me. I ran to class. Mishka sat there and looked out the window.

I said:

- Well, today we perform!

And Mishka suddenly mumbled:

- I don't feel like speaking...

I was right dumbfounded. How - reluctance? That's it! We've been rehearsing, haven't we? But what about Lucy and Boris Sergeevich? Andryushka? And all the guys, because they read the poster and will come running as one? I said:

- Are you out of your mind, or what? Let people down?

And Mishka is so plaintively:

- I think my stomach hurts.

I say:

- It's out of fear. It hurts me too, but I don't refuse!

But Mishka was still kind of thoughtful. At the big break, all the guys rushed to the small hall, and Mishka and I could hardly trudge behind, because I also completely lost the mood to speak. But at that moment Lyusya ran out to meet us, she firmly grabbed our hands and dragged us along, but my legs were soft, like those of a doll, and wobbled. I must have been infected by Mishka.

In the hall there was a fenced-off place near the piano, and children from all classes, both nannies and teachers, crowded around.

Mishka and I stood near the piano.

Boris Sergeevich was already in place, and Lucy announced in an announcer's voice:

- We begin the performance of the "Pioneer Satyricon" on hot topics. Text by Andrey Shestakov, performed worldwide famous satirists Misha and Denis! Let's ask!

And Mishka and I went a little ahead. The bear was white as a wall. And I was nothing, only my mouth was dry and rough, as if there was emery.

Boris Sergeevich played. Mishka had to start, because he sang the first two lines, and I had to sing the second two lines. Here Boris Sergeevich began to play, and Mishka threw aside left hand, as Lucy taught him, and wanted to sing, but he was late, and while he was getting ready, it was my turn, it turned out that way according to the music. But I did not sing, since Mishka was late. Why on earth!

Mishka then put his hand back in place. And Boris Sergeevich loudly and separately began again.

He struck, as he should have done, the keys three times, and on the fourth Mishka threw back his left hand again and finally sang:

Vasya's dad is strong in mathematics,
Dad studies for Vasya all year.

I immediately picked it up and shouted:

Where is it seen, where is it heard -
Dad decides, and Vasya gives up?!

Everyone in the hall laughed, and this made my soul feel better. And Boris Sergeevich went further. He again struck the keys three times, and on the fourth Mishka carefully threw his left hand to the side and for no reason sang at first:

Vasya's dad is strong in mathematics,
Dad studies for Vasya all year.

I knew immediately that he had lost his way! But since this is the case, I decided to sing to the end, and then we'll see. I took it and finished it:

Where is it seen, where is it heard -
Dad decides, and Vasya gives up?!

Thank God, it was quiet in the hall - everyone, apparently, also understood that Mishka had gone astray, and thought: “Well, it happens, let him sing further.”

And when the music reached the place, he again extended his left hand and, like a record that was “jammed”, wound it up for the third time:

Vasya's dad is strong in mathematics,
Dad studies for Vasya all year.

I had a terrible desire to hit him on the back of the head with something heavy, and I yelled with terrible anger:

Where is it seen, where is it heard -
Dad decides, and Vasya gives up?!

“Mishka, you seem to be completely crazy!” Are you tightening the same thing for the third time? Let's talk about girls!

And Mishka is so cheeky:

I know without you! - And politely says to Boris Sergeyevich: - Please, Boris Sergeyevich, go on!

Boris Sergeevich began to play, and Mishka suddenly grew bolder, again put out his left hand and on the fourth beat began to cry as if nothing had happened:

Vasya's dad is strong in mathematics,
Dad studies for Vasya all year.

Then everyone in the hall squealed with laughter, and I saw in the crowd what an unhappy face Andryushka had, and I also saw that Lucy, all red and disheveled, was making her way towards us through the crowd. And Mishka is standing with open mouth as if he were surprised at himself. Well, while the court and the case, I shout out:

Where is it seen, where is it heard -
Dad decides, and Vasya gives up?!

This is where something terrible started. Everyone was laughing as if stabbed to death, and the Mishka turned purple from green. Our Lucy grabbed his hand and dragged him to her. She screamed:

- Deniska, sing alone! Don't let me down!.. Music! AND!..

And I stood at the piano and decided not to let you down. I felt that it didn't matter to me, and when the music reached me, for some reason I suddenly threw my left arm out to the side and quite unexpectedly yelled:

Vasya's dad is strong in mathematics,
Dad studies for Vasya all year ...

I'm even surprised that I didn't die from this damn song. I probably would have died if the bell hadn't rung at that time...

I won't be a satirist anymore!

One evening I was sitting in the yard, near the sand, and waiting for my mother. She probably lingered at the institute, or at the store, or, perhaps, stood at the bus stop for a long time. Don't know. Only all the parents of our yard had already arrived, and all the guys went home with them and probably already drank tea with bagels and feta cheese, but my mother was still not there... Read...

Once Mishka and I were doing homework. We put notebooks in front of us and copied. And at that time I was telling Mishka about lemurs, what they have big eyes, like glass saucers, and that I saw a photograph of a lemur, how he holds on to a fountain pen, he himself is small, small and terribly cute. Read...

I have only fives in the report card. Only four in calligraphy. Because of the blot. I don't really know what to do! I always have blots coming off my pen. I already dip only the very tip of the pen into the ink, but the blots still come off. Just some miracles! Once I wrote a whole page cleanly, cleanly, it's expensive to look at - a real five-page page. Read...

When dad got sick, the doctor came and said: Read ...

Suddenly our door flew open, and Alenka screamed from the corridor... Read...

Boys and girls! - said Raisa Ivanovna. - You did well this quarter. Congratulations. Now you can rest. During the holidays we will arrange a matinee and a carnival. Each of you can dress up as anyone, and there will be a prize for the best costume, so get ready. Read...

All the boys of the 1st class "B" had pistols. We agreed to always walk around with weapons. And each of us always had a pretty little pistol in his pocket and a supply of piston bands to go with it. And we really liked it, but it didn't last long. And all because of the movie... Read...

When I was six or six and a half years old, I had absolutely no idea who I would eventually be in this world. I really liked all the people around and all the work too. I then had a terrible confusion in my head, I was kind of confused and could not really decide what to do with me. Read...

Last summer I was at Uncle Volodya's dacha. He has very beautiful house, similar to the train station, but a little smaller. Read...

I noticed a long time ago that adults ask very stupid questions to little ones. They seemed to be talking. It turns out as if they all learned the same questions and ask them to all the guys in a row. I am so used to this business that I know in advance how everything will happen if I meet some adult. It will be like this. Read...

Recently we were walking in the yard: Alenka, Mishka and me. Suddenly a truck drove into the yard. And there is a tree on it. We ran after the car. So she drove up to the house management, stopped, and the driver with our janitor began to unload the Christmas tree. They shouted at each other... Read...

This was the case. We had a lesson - work. Raisa Ivanovna said that we should each do according to a tear-off calendar, whoever figured it out. I took a piece of cardboard, pasted it over with green paper, cut a slit in the middle, attached a matchbox to it, and put a pile of white leaves on the box, adjusted it, glued it, trimmed it, and wrote on the first sheet: “Happy May Day!” Read...

When I was little, they gave me tricycle. And I learned to ride it. I immediately sat down and rode, not at all afraid, as if I had ridden bicycles all my life. Read...

When I walked home from the pool, I had a very good mood. I liked all the trolleybuses, that they are so transparent and you can see everyone who rides in them, and the ice cream ladies liked that they were cheerful, and I liked that it was not hot outside and the breeze cooled my wet head. Read...

That summer, when I didn't go to school yet, our yard was being renovated. Bricks and boards lay everywhere, and in the middle of the yard rose a huge pile of sand. And we played on this sand in the "defeat of the Nazis near Moscow", or made Easter cakes, or just played at nothing. Read...

When I was a preschooler, I was terribly compassionate. I couldn't hear anything pathetic at all. And if someone ate someone, or threw him into the fire, or imprisoned him, I immediately began to cry. For example, the wolves ate a goat, and horns and legs remained of him. Read...

Tomorrow is the first of September, - said my mother. - And now autumn has come, and you will go to the second grade. Oh, how time flies!.. Read...

It turns out that while I was sick, it became quite warm outside and there were two or three days left before our spring break. When I came to school, everyone screamed... Read...

Marya Petrovna often comes to tea with us. She is all so full, the dress is pulled tight over her, like a pillowcase on a pillow. She has different earrings dangling in her ears. And she smells something dry and sweet. Read...

If you think about it, it's just some kind of horror: I have never flown an airplane before. True, once I almost flew, but it wasn’t there. It broke. Straight trouble. Read...

The stories of Viktor Dragunsky are illuminated by love for children, knowledge of their psychology, and spiritual kindness. The prototype of the protagonist was the author's son, and the father in these stories is the writer himself. Viktor Dragunsky wrote not only provocative stories, most of which probably happened to his Deniska, but also a little sad and instructive ("The Man with a Blue Face"). Good and bright impressions remain after reading each of these stories, many of which have been filmed. Children and adults enjoy reading them over and over again.

Viktor Dragunsky Deniskin's stories - this is the book that we will analyze in detail today. I will give summary several stories, I will describe three films based on these works. And I will share a personal review based on my impression with my son. Whether you are looking for a good copy for your child or working on a reading diary with your younger student, I think in any case you will be able to find useful information in the article.

Hello dear blog readers. The book itself was purchased by me more than two years ago, but my son initially did not accept it. But at almost six years old, he enthusiastically listened to the stories from the life of the boy Denis Korablev, laughing heartily at the situations. And at 7.5 he read excitedly, laughing and retelling the plots he liked to my husband and me. Therefore, I immediately advise you not to rush into the introduction of this wonderful book. The child must grow up to its correct perception, and then you can be sure that it will make an indelible impression on him.

About the book Deniskina stories by Viktor Dragunsky

Our copy was published by Eksmo in 2014. The book has a hard cover, stitched binding, 160 pages. Pages: dense snow-white offset, on which bright, large pictures are absolutely not visible. In other words, the quality of this edition is perfect, I can safely advise. The book of Viktor Dragunsky Deniskin's stories is pleasant to hold in your hands. Having opened the cover, the child immediately enters the world of adventures that await him on its pages. The illustrations made by Vladimir Kanivets accurately reflect the events of the stories. There are a lot of pictures, they are on every spread: large ones - for the whole page and small ones - several for a spread. Thus, the book becomes a real adventure that the reader experiences along with its main characters. Buy at labyrinth, Ozone.

Deniskin's stories were included in 100 books for schoolchildren recommended by the Ministry of Education, which once again confirms the advice on reading these works in junior school age or close to it. The text in the book is a good size for both the child and the vision-conscious parent.

Deniska's stories - content

Viktor Dragunsky wrote a series of stories about a boy named Denis Korablev, who literally grows up before the reader's eyes. What are they about?

At first we see Deniska as a sweet preschooler: inquisitive, sentimental. Then like a schoolboy primary school, who uses his inquisitive mind in various experiments, draws conclusions from his not always ideal behavior, and falls into funny situations. The protagonist of the stories was the writer's son. Father watching him interesting childhood, his experiences, created these beautiful works. They were first published in 1959, and the actions described in the book took place in the 50-60s of the last century.

What is included in this copy? Yes, not a lot! The list made me very happy.

Now, let's talk about several works separately. This will help you decide if you have never read the book. Or help in filling out the reader's diary for grades 2-3, usually it is during this period that reading is given for the summer.

About filling out the reader's diary

Let me explain in a nutshell: my son keeps notes about what he read, in the article I will write down his opinion.
An example of such work is when my son worked with the work “Winter”.

AT reader's diary child there are lines: date of beginning and end of reading, number of pages, author. I see no reason to enter this data here, because your student will read on other dates, in a different format. The name of the author in all the works that we are talking about today is the same. At the end, a drawing is made. If you and your child have read the story online, a spread of the book will help you, from which, if desired, you can make a sketch. In what genre are "Deniska's stories" written? This information may be needed when filling out the diary. Genre - literary cycle.

So, let's confine ourselves to the description:

• Name;
• plot (summary);
• main characters and their characteristics;
• what you liked about the piece.

Deniska stories - Amazing day

In the story, the guys are assembling a rocket to fly into space. Thinking through all the details of her device, they got a very impressive design. And although the friends understood that this was a game, they still almost quarreled over deciding who would be the astronaut. It's great that their game ended well! (Here parents have the opportunity to discuss safety measures). The fact is that the boys put New Year's firecrackers into the pipe from the samovar to simulate the take-off of a rocket. And inside the barrel-rocket was a “cosmonaut”. Fortunately for him, the fuse did not work and the explosion occurred after the boy left the “rocket”.

The events that Viktor Dragunsky described in this story fall on the day when German Titov flew into space. People listened to the news on the loudspeaker in the streets and rejoiced at such a great event - the launch of the second cosmonaut.

From the whole book, my son singled out this work, since his interest in astronomy does not fade to this day. Our lesson can be viewed in a separate article.

Name:
amazing day
Summary:
The children wanted to build a rocket and launch it into space. We found a wooden barrel, a leaky samovar, a box, and at the end they brought pyrotechnics from home. They played merrily, each had his own role. One was a mechanic, another was a chief engineer, a third was a chief, but everyone wanted to be an astronaut and go on a flight. Denis became it and he could have died or become disabled if the fuse hadn't gone out. But everything ended well. And after the explosion, everyone learned that the second cosmonaut German Titov had been launched into space. And everyone rejoiced.

Guys living in the same yard. Alenka is a girl in red sandals. Bear - best friend Deniska. Andryushka is a red-haired boy of six years. Kostya is almost seven. Denis - he came up with a plan for a dangerous game.

I liked the story. It's good that although the boys quarreled, they found a way to continue the game. I'm glad no one exploded in the barrel.

Victor Dragunsky Deniskin's stories - No worse than you, circus ones

In the story "No worse than you, circus people", Denis, who lived with his parents in the center of Moscow, suddenly finds himself in the circus in the first row. He had a bag of tomatoes and sour cream with him, which his mother had sent for. A boy was sitting in a chair nearby, as it turned out, the son of circus performers, who was used as a “spectator from the audience”. The boy decided to play a trick on Deniska and invited him to change places. As a result, the clown picked up the wrong boy and carried him under the dome of the circus. And the tomatoes fell on the heads of the audience. But everything ended well and our hero has been to the circus more than once.

Review in the reader's diary

Name:
No worse than you circus people.
Summary:
Returning from the store, Deniska accidentally gets on a performance at the circus. Next to him, in the front row, sat a circus boy. The guys argued a little, but then he suggested that Denis take his seat so that the performance of the clown Pencil could be better seen. And he disappeared. The clown suddenly grabbed Deniska and they flew high above the arena. It was scary, and then bought tomatoes and sour cream flew down. This circus boy Tolka decided to joke like that. In the end, the guys talked and remained friends, and Aunt Dusya took Denis home.
Main characters and their characteristics:
Denis is almost 9 years old and his mother already sends him alone to the grocery store. Aunt Dusya - kind woman, a former neighbor who works at the circus. Tolka is a circus boy, he is cunning and has evil jokes.
What did you like about the piece:
I liked this story. It has a lot funny phrases: “shouted in a whisper”, “shaking like a chicken on a fence”. It was funny to read about flying with a clown and falling tomatoes.

Deniskin's stories - Girl on the ball

In the story "The Girl on the Ball" Denis Korablev watched interesting circus show. Suddenly a girl appeared on the stage, which struck his imagination. Her clothes, her movements, her sweet smile, everything seemed beautiful. The boy was so fascinated by her performance that nothing seemed interesting after him. Arriving home, he told his father about the beautiful circus Thumbelina and asked him to go with him the next Sunday to look at her together.

The whole essence of the work can be reflected in this passage. What a wonderful first love!

And at that moment the girl looked at me, and I saw that she saw that I see her and that I also see that she sees me, and she waved her hand at me and smiled. She waved at me and smiled.

But as usual, parents have other things to do. Friends came to the father and a Sunday exit
canceled for another week. Everything would be fine, but it turned out that Tanechka Vorontsova left with her parents for Vladivostok and Denis never saw her again. It was a small tragedy, our hero even tried to persuade dad to fly there on the Tu-104, but in vain.

Dear parents, I advise you to ask your young readers a question about why, in their opinion, dad was silent all the time on the way home from the circus and at the same time squeezed the child’s hand. Dragunsky completed the work very correctly, but not everyone can understand its end. Of course, we adults know the reason for the restraint of a man who realized the tragedy of his son in love, which occurred because of his unfulfilled promise. But it is still difficult for children to get into the bins of an adult soul. Therefore, it is necessary to conduct a conversation with explanations.

Reader's diary

Name:
Girl on the Ball.
Summary:
Denis with the class came to the performance at the circus. There he saw a very beautiful girl who performed on the ball. She seemed to him the most unusual of all the girls and he told his dad about her. Dad promised to go on Sunday and watch the show together, but plans changed because of dad's friends. Deniska couldn't wait until next Sunday to go to the circus. When they finally arrived, they were told that the tightrope walker Tanyusha Vorontsova had left with her parents for Vladivostok. Deniska and dad left without watching the performance and returned home sad.
Main characters and their characteristics:
Deniska - he studies at school. His dad loves the circus, his work is connected with drawings. Tanya Vorontsova - beautiful girl performing in the circus.
What did you like about the piece:
The story is sad, but I still liked it. It is a pity that Deniska could not see the girl again.

Victor Dragunsky Deniskin's stories - Watermelon lane

The story "Watermelon Lane" cannot be ignored. It is perfect for reading on the eve of Victory Day, and just for explaining to preschoolers and junior schoolchildren, the theme of hunger during the war.

Deniska, like any child, sometimes does not want to eat this or that food. The boy will soon be eleven years old, he plays football and returns home very hungry. It would seem that the bull could eat, but my mother puts milk noodles on the table. He refuses to eat, discusses with his mother about this. And dad, having heard the rednecks of his son, returned his thoughts to his childhood, when there was a war and he really wanted to eat. He told Denis a story about how, during a famine, near a store, he was given a broken watermelon. He ate it at home with a friend. And then the series of hungry days continued. Denis's father and his friend Valka went to the alley to the store every day, hoping that they would bring watermelons and one of them would break again ...

Our little hero I understood my father's story, he really felt it:

I sat and also looked out the window, where papa was looking, and it seemed to me that I could see papa and his comrade right there, how they would tremble and wait. The wind beats on them, and the snow too, but they tremble, and wait, and wait, and wait ... then to himself, and drank the rest, and wiped the bottom with bread, and licked the spoon.

My review of the first book about the war that I read to a child can be read at. Also on the blog is good selection and a review about for primary school age.

Deniskin stories films

Reading the book to my son, I remembered that in my childhood I watched children's films with similar plots. A lot of time has passed and yet I dared to look. I found it quickly enough and to my own surprise in in large numbers. I will present to your attention three films that we watched with my boy. But I want to warn you right away that reading a book cannot be replaced by a film, since in films the plots are sometimes mixed from different stories.

Children's Film - Funny Stories

I will start all the same with this film, since it contains stories from the book I described. Namely:

• Amazing day;
• He is alive and glowing;
• The secret becomes clear;
• Motorcycle racing on a steep wall;
• dog snatchers;
• Top down, sideways! (this story is not in our book).

Children's film Deniska stories - Captain

This film is only 25 minutes long and is based on the short story “Tell me about Singapore”. My son and I simply laughed to tears when reading it in our book, but when watching the film, we did not feel this humorous situation. At the end, the plot with the uncle-captain is supplemented from the story "Chiki-bryk", where Deniska's dad showed tricks and Mishka believed in magic so much that he threw his mother's hat out the window. The film does the same trick. main character with a captain's hat.

Children's film Deniskin stories

This film, although it has the same name as our book, does not contain a single story from it. To be honest, we liked it the least. it musical film where there are few words and many songs. And since I did not read these works to the child, he was not familiar with the plot. These included stories:

• Exactly 25 kilos;
• Healthy thought;
• Grandmaster's hat;
• Twenty years under the bed.

To summarize, I’ll say that Viktor Dragunsky Deniskin’s stories are a book that is easy to read, unobtrusively teaches and educates and gives you the opportunity to laugh. It shows the multifaceted childhood friendship, it is not embellished, it recognizes the actions of real children. My son and I enjoyed the book and I am very glad that he has finally grown up to it.

Victor Dragunsky

Deniska's stories

Part one

He is alive and glowing

That I love

I really like to lie on my stomach on my father's knee, lower my arms and legs and hang on my knee like that, like linen on a fence. I also really like to play checkers, chess and dominoes, only to be sure to win. If you don't win, then don't.

I love listening to the beetle dig into the box. And I like to get into bed with my dad in the morning to talk with him about the dog: how we will live more spaciously, and buy a dog, and we will work with it, and we will feed it, and how funny and smart it will be, and how she will steal sugar, and I will wipe the puddles after her, and she will follow me like a faithful dog.

I also like to watch TV: it doesn't matter what they show, even if it's only tables.

I love to breathe through my nose into my mother's ear. I especially love to sing and always sing very loudly.

I terribly love stories about red cavalrymen, and that they always win.

I like to stand in front of the mirror and make faces like I'm Petrushka from puppet theater. I love sprats too.

I like to read fairy tales about Kanchil. This is such a small, smart and mischievous doe. She has merry eyes, and little horns, and pink polished hooves. When we live more spaciously, we will buy Kanchil, he will live in the bathroom. I also like to swim where it is shallow so that I can hold my hands on the sandy bottom.

I love to wave red flags and blow "go away!" at demonstrations.

I love making phone calls.

I love planing, sawing, I know how to sculpt the heads of ancient warriors and bison, and I blinded a capercaillie and a tsar cannon. This is what I love to give.

When I read, I like to nibble on crackers or something.

I love guests.

I also love snakes, lizards and frogs. They are so dexterous. I carry them in my pockets. I like to have the snake lying on the table when I have lunch. I love it when my grandmother screams about the frog: “Remove this muck!” - and runs out of the room.

I love to laugh. Sometimes I don’t feel like laughing at all, but I force myself, squeeze out laughter - look, after five minutes it really becomes funny.

When I'm in a good mood, I like to ride. One day my dad and I went to the zoo, and I was jumping around him in the street, and he asked:

What are you jumping?

And I said:

I jump that you are my dad!

He understood!

I love going to the zoo! There are wonderful elephants. And there is one elephant. When we live more spaciously, we will buy a baby elephant. I'll build a garage for him.

I really like to stand behind the car when it snorts and sniff the gas.

I like to go to cafes - eat ice cream and drink it with sparkling water. Her nose hurts and tears come to her eyes.

When I run down the hallway, I like to stomp my feet with all my might.

I love horses very much, they have such beautiful and kind faces.

I like a lot of things!

... and what I don't like!

What I don't like is dental treatment. As soon as I see a dental chair, I immediately want to run away to the ends of the world. I still don’t like it when guests come, stand on a chair and read poetry.

I don't like it when mom and dad go to the theatre.

I hate soft-boiled eggs, when they are shaken in a glass, crumbled bread into it and forced to eat.

I still don’t like it when my mother goes for a walk with me and suddenly meets Aunt Rosa!

Then they only talk to each other, and I just don't know what to do.

I do not like to walk in a new suit - I'm in it like a wooden one.

When we play red and white, I don't like to be white. Then I exit the game, and that's it! And when I'm red, I don't like being captured. I still run away.

I don't like it when they win.

I don’t like when it’s my birthday, to play “loaf”: I’m not small.

I don't like it when guys ask questions.

And I really don’t like it when I cut myself, in addition - to smear my finger with iodine.

I don’t like that it’s crowded in our corridor and adults scurry back and forth every minute, some with a frying pan, some with a kettle, and shout:

Children, do not turn under your feet! Watch out, I have a hot pot!

And when I go to bed, I don’t like it when they sing in chorus in the next room:

Lilies of the valley, lilies of the valley...

I really don't like that on the radio boys and girls speak in old women's voices! ..

"He's alive and glowing..."

One evening I was sitting in the yard, near the sand, and waiting for my mother. She probably lingered at the institute, or at the store, or, perhaps, stood at the bus stop for a long time. Don't know. Only all the parents of our yard had already come, and all the guys went home with them and probably already drank tea with bagels and cheese, but my mother was still not there ...

And now the lights in the windows began to light up, and the radio began to play music, and dark clouds moved in the sky - they looked like bearded old men ...

And I wanted to eat, but my mother was still not there, and I thought that if I knew that my mother was hungry and was waiting for me somewhere at the end of the world, I would immediately run to her, and would not be late and would not made her sit on the sand and get bored.

And at that moment Mishka came out into the yard. He said:

Great!

And I said

Great!

Mishka sat down with me and picked up a dump truck.

Wow! Mishka said. - Where did you get it? Does he pick up the sand himself? Not by myself? Does he dump himself? Yes? And the pen? What is she for? Can it be rotated? Yes? BUT? Wow! Will you give it to me at home?

I said:

No I will not give. Gift. Dad gave before leaving.

The bear pouted and moved away from me. It got even darker outside.

I looked at the gate so as not to miss when my mother comes. But she didn't go. Apparently, I met Aunt Rosa, and they stand and talk and do not even think about me. I lay down on the sand.

Mishka says:

Can't you give me a dump truck?

Get off, Mishka.

Then Mishka says:

I can give you one Guatemala and two Barbados for him!

I say:

Compared Barbados with a dump truck ...

Well, do you want me to give you a swim ring?

I say:

He's screwed on you.

You will glue it!

I even got angry.

Where to swim? In the bathroom? On Tuesdays?