The story of autumn leaves about Lesha and Nikita. Lev Nikolaevich Tolstoy

Tolstoy Alexey Nikolaevich

Nikita's childhood

Tolstoy A.N.

NIKITA'S CHILDHOOD

SUNNY MORNING

Opening his eyes, Nikita remembered that Pahom the carpenter had said to him last night:

So I'll grease it and water it well, and you get up in the morning - sit down and go.

Yesterday evening, Pahom, a crooked and pockmarked peasant, made a bench for Nikita, at his special request. She did it like this:

In the carriage house, on the workbench, among the ring-twisted, odorous shavings, Pakhom hewed out two planks and four legs; the lower board from the front edge - from the nose - cut off so that it does not jam in the snow; turned legs; in the upper board there are two cutouts for the legs in order to sit more dexterously. The bottom board was smeared with cow dung and watered three times in the cold - after that it was made like a mirror, a rope was tied to the top board - to carry a bench, and when you go down the mountain, then rule.

Now the bench, of course, is ready and stands at the porch. Pahom is such a person: "If he says what I said - the law, I will do it."

Nikita sat on the edge of the bed and listened - the house was quiet, no one else must have got up. If you get dressed in a minute, without any, of course, washing and brushing your teeth, then through the back door you can escape to the yard, And from the yard - to the river. There, on the steep banks, there were snowdrifts - sit down and fly ...

Nikita got out of bed and tiptoed over the hot sunny squares on the floor...

At that moment the door opened a crack, and a head in spectacles, with protruding red eyebrows, and a bright red beard, poked his head into the room. The head winked and said:

Get up, robber?

ARKADY IVANOVICH

At the porch stands, - he said, - a wonderful bench.

Nikita remained silent and frowned. I had to get dressed and brush my teeth, and wash not only my face, but also my ears and even my neck. After that, Arkady Ivanovich put his arm around Nikita's shoulders and led him into the dining room. At the table at the samovar sat my mother in a warm gray dress. She took Nikita by the face, looked into his eyes with clear eyes, and kissed him.

Did you sleep well, Nikita?

Then she held out her hand to Arkady Ivanovich and asked kindly:

And how did you sleep, Arkady Ivanovich?

I slept well,” he replied, smiling at something incomprehensible, into his red mustache, sat down at the table, poured cream into tea, threw a piece of sugar into his mouth, grabbed it with his white teeth and winked at Nikita through his glasses.

Arkady Ivanovich was an unbearable person: he always had fun, always winked, never spoke directly, but in such a way that his heart skipped a beat. For example, it seems that my mother clearly asked: "How did you sleep?" He replied: “I slept well when I slept,” which means you need to understand this: “But Nikita wanted to escape to the river from tea and classes, but yesterday Nikita, instead of a German translation, sat for two hours on a workbench at Pakhom.”

Arkady Ivanovich never complained, it's true, but Nikita had to keep his eyes open all the time.

Over tea, mother said that it had been very cold at night, the water in the tub had frozen in the hallway, and when they went for a walk, Nikita needed to put on a cap.

Mom, honestly, it's a terrible heat, - said Nikita.

I ask you to wear a hat.

My cheeks prick and suffocate, I, mother, will catch a cold worse in a hood.

Mother silently looked at Arkady Ivanovich, at Nikita, her voice trembled:

I don't know who you've become a non-auditor.

Let's go to study, - said Arkady Ivanovich, got up resolutely and quickly rubbed his hands, as if there was no greater pleasure in the world than solving arithmetic problems and dictating proverbs and sayings that make your eyes close.

In a large empty white room, where a map of the two hemispheres hung on the wall, Nikita sat down at the table, covered in ink stains and painted faces. Arkady Ivanovich opened the problem book.

Well," he said cheerfully, "where did you stop? - And with a sharpened pencil he underlined the number of the problem.

"The merchant sold several arshins of blue cloth at 3 rubles 64 kopecks per arshin and black cloth ..." Nikita read. And now, as always, this merchant from the problem book introduced himself to him. He was in a long, dusty frock coat, with a yellow, dull face, all dull and flat, dried up. His shop was as dark as a crack; on a dusty flat shelf lay two pieces of cloth; the merchant stretched out his lean hands towards them, took off the pieces from the shelf and looked with dull, inanimate eyes at Nikita.

Well, what do you think, Nikita? - Asked Arkady Ivanovich. - In total, the merchant sold eighteen arshins. How much blue cloth was sold and how much black?

Nikita frowned, the merchant completely flattened out, both pieces of cloth entered the wall, wrapped in dust ...

Arkady Ivanovich said: "Ai-ai!" - and began to explain, quickly wrote numbers with a pencil, multiplied them and divided them, repeating: "One in the mind, two in the mind." It seemed to Nikita that during the multiplication - "one in the mind" or "two in the mind" quickly jumped from the paper into the head and tickled there so that they would not be forgotten. It was very unpleasant. And the sun sparkled in the two frosty windows of the classroom, beckoning: "Let's go to the river."

Finally, the arithmetic was over, the dictation began. Arkady Ivanovich walked along the wall and in a special, sleepy voice that people never speak, he began to dictate:

- "... All the animals that are on earth are constantly working, working. The student was obedient and diligent ..."

Sticking out the tip of his tongue, Nikita wrote, the pen creaked and splattered.

Suddenly, the door slammed in the house and it was heard walking along the corridor in frozen boots. Arkady Ivanovich lowered the book, listening. The joyful voice of the mother exclaimed nearby:

What, did you bring the mail?

Nikita completely lowered his head into his notebook - it was tempting to laugh.

Obedient and diligent,” he repeated in a singsong voice, “I wrote diligently.

Yes, it was a completely different time, other games, another childhood. As a child, I literally read Tolstoy’s story “As if nothing had happened” to the holes, but I didn’t read Nikita’s Childhood, although I had the book at home, but it looked like it didn’t want to read it. As a child, I was a bookworm. A book from my childhood in the 80s. I think she is all the time.

How old was Nikita from the book childhood of Nikita Alexei Tolstoy

Pranks, joys, sorrows and Nikita's first quivering interest in a girl all this is lived together with Nikita in one breath! Probably, any story about childhood is autobiographical. In general, the book is so Russian, real and honest - it's just lovely!

The story of Alexei Tolstoy "Childhood of Nikita". Summary

This is nothing special, but you clearly feel this frosty air, you listen with Nikita to the howling of the wind in the attic, and you barely rejoice, anticipating the holiday. Because this is our childhood! The series includes retro novels and stories by Soviet and Russian writers, referring to a difficult but bright period of human life - childhood.

In principle, everything is in order with Nikita, he went to school, Lilya is next to Victor, he is only 10, and everything is going so well, it’s a pity that the sled is somewhere on the lake and the village is far away ... No, about Childhood in general, with his joys and sorrows, big and small discoveries, fears and victories. I just don’t understand how I “missed” her as a child ... I liked everything in the book, all the actions and thoughts of Nikita were close and understandable to me, such as the “battle” with the village guys.

Suddenly I remembered that I had read it as a child, and more than once. Magic thing. You just live in it. Something especially responded inside to Nikita's flight around the hall. But these are all childish feelings. Dedicated to my son Nikita. Nikita is the name of his son. He dedicated his book to him. About his childhood on the farm Sosnovka, near Samara, he writes in his autobiography: “My childhood passed there. All this, and especially the fact that I grew up alone, developed my daydreaming…” and, undoubtedly, the daydreaming of the protagonist of his story, Nikita.

In the rooms, in the midday ominous silence, only flies rang. Under the hazy, but especially somehow dazzling white light of the sun, the wide courtyard was deserted and quiet - everything fell asleep, froze. The summary of this autobiographical story covers the last year of the carefree childhood of the author himself.

The main character, the boy Nikita, was endowed by the writer with his own rich imagination and impressionability. The author, without renaming, introduced into the canvas the stories of his childhood friends - Mishka Koryashonka and Styopka Karnaushkin. The summary of the work can be extremely briefly expressed as the reader's immersion in the fairy-tale world of childhood.

We have a lot of people to help you here. Also, my last question was answered in less than 10 minutes :D Anyway, you can just log in and try adding your question. A very kind and bright story, I advise all modern children to read it!

I also liked her statement that this is a book about "the happiness of a boy." We didn't study this at school either. And although the apartment has only a few rooms, the tour was very interesting. And after the tour, we were invited to have tea with Golden Key sweets and cookies. By the way, the museum has an interactive program on this work, so if you live in Moscow and your children go through it at school, it should be interesting.

I read any book to the end, no matter how boring or thick it was. And now I can't. If I'm bored, I quit right away. Too thick books, too, immediately reject, tk. no time. And in general, I spend more time reading reviews of books, performances, museums and trips around Europe than reading fiction. It is difficult to say in a few words what this book is about.

We liked it no less than "Wonderful Summer" by Sasha Cherny - just as good and written about the same. I recommend both books to those who have not read them. They set you up in a positive way like nothing else. I recommend reading these books aloud with children. We recently started this practice in the family, and our 12-year-old son is happy to participate.

In order to somehow acquaint with the content (for the school) I had to buy a CD, but it did not arouse much interest either. It is worthy of reprinting and must be in every home where unique Russian literature is loved. A very poetic thing. Just poetry in prose. You float through the text with such pleasure, which rarely happens. I read with my daughter 7 years old, I was afraid that she would not be interested.

Nikita's dad is also what you need ... Moreover, Nikita's mother's name is the same as Alexei Tolstoy's mother - Alexandra Leontievna. In this book, I read that Nikita reads The Headless Horseman with interest. Nikita sighed, waking up, and opened his eyes”……… With great pleasure we read “Nikita’s Childhood” with our 7-year-old son. We were sorry when the book ended, I think he will return to it more than once and discover a lot of new things.

Nikita's childhood
Alexey Nikolaevich Tolstoy

Tolstoy Alexey Nikolaevich

Nikita's childhood

SUNNY MORNING

Opening his eyes, Nikita remembered that Pahom the carpenter had said to him last night:

So I'll grease it and water it well, and you get up in the morning - sit down and go.

Yesterday evening, Pahom, a crooked and pockmarked peasant, made a bench for Nikita, at his special request. She did it like this:

Now the bench, of course, is ready and stands at the porch. Pakhom is such a person: "If he says what I said - the law, I will do it."

Nikita got out of bed and tiptoed over the hot sunny squares on the floor...

At that moment the door opened a crack, and a head in spectacles, with protruding red eyebrows, and a bright red beard, poked his head into the room. The head winked and said:

Get up, robber?

ARKADY IVANOVICH

At the porch stands, - he said, - a wonderful bench.

Did you sleep well, Nikita?

Then she held out her hand to Arkady Ivanovich and asked kindly:

And how did you sleep, Arkady Ivanovich?

Arkady Ivanovich was an unbearable person: he always had fun, always winked, never spoke directly, but in such a way that his heart skipped a beat. For example, it seems that my mother clearly asked: “How did you sleep?” He replied: “I slept well when I slept,” which means you need to understand this: “But Nikita wanted to escape to the river from tea and classes, but yesterday Nikita, instead of a German translation, sat for two hours on a workbench at Pakhom.”

Arkady Ivanovich never complained, it's true, but Nikita had to keep his eyes open all the time.

Over tea, mother said that it had been very cold at night, the water in the tub had frozen in the hallway, and when they went for a walk, Nikita needed to put on a cap.

Mom, honestly, the terrible heat, - said Nikita.

I ask you to wear a hat.

My cheeks prick and suffocate, I, mother, will catch a cold worse in a hood.

Mother silently looked at Arkady Ivanovich, at Nikita, her voice trembled:

I don't know who you've become a non-auditor.

In a large empty white room, where a map of the two hemispheres hung on the wall, Nikita sat down at the table, covered in ink stains and painted faces. Arkady Ivanovich opened the problem book.

Well,' he said cheerfully, 'where did you stop? - And with a sharpened pencil he underlined the number of the problem.

“The merchant sold several arshins of blue cloth at 3 rubles 64 kopecks per arshin and black cloth ...” Nikita read. And now, as always, this merchant from the problem book introduced himself to him. He was in a long, dusty frock coat, with a yellow, dull face, all dull and flat, dried up. His shop was as dark as a crack; on a dusty flat shelf lay two pieces of cloth; the merchant stretched out his lean hands towards them, took off the pieces from the shelf and looked with dull, inanimate eyes at Nikita.

Well, what do you think, Nikita? asked Arkady Ivanovich. - In total, the merchant sold eighteen arshins. How much blue cloth was sold and how much black?

Nikita frowned, the merchant completely flattened out, both pieces of cloth entered the wall, wrapped in dust ...

Finally, the arithmetic was over, the dictation began. Arkady Ivanovich walked along the wall and in a special, sleepy voice that people never speak, he began to dictate:

- “... All animals that are on earth are constantly working, working. The student was obedient and diligent…”

Sticking out the tip of his tongue, Nikita wrote, the pen creaked and splattered.

Suddenly, the door slammed in the house and it was heard walking along the corridor in frozen boots. Arkady Ivanovich lowered the book, listening. The joyful voice of the mother exclaimed nearby:

What, did you bring the mail?

Nikita completely lowered his head into his notebook - it was tempting to laugh.

Obedient and diligent, - he repeated in a singsong voice, - "diligent" I wrote.

Arkady Ivanovich adjusted his glasses.

So, all the animals that are on earth are obedient and diligent ... Why are you laughing? .. Planted an inkblot? .. However, we will now take a short break.

Arkady Ivanovich, pursing his lips, shook his long finger like a pencil, and quickly left the classroom. In the corridor he asked his mother:

Alexandra Leontyevna, don't I have a letter?

Nikita guessed from whom he was expecting a letter. But there was no time to waste. Nikita put on a short sheepskin coat, felt boots, and a hat, thrust the hood under the chest of drawers so that they would not be found, and ran out onto the porch.

SNOWDROPS

The wide yard was all covered with shining, white, soft snow. There were deep human and frequent dog marks on it. The air, frosty and thin, pinched in my nose, pricked my cheeks with needles. The carriage house, barn, and barnyards stood squat, covered with white hats, as if rooted in snow. Like glass, traces of runners ran from the house across the entire yard.

Nikita ran down the crunchy steps from the porch. Below was a brand new pine bench with a twisted rope. Nikita examined it - it was made firmly, tried it - it glided well, put the bench on his shoulder, grabbed a spatula, thinking that he would need it, and ran along the road along the garden to the dam. There were huge, almost to the sky, wide willows, covered with hoarfrost, each branch was like snow.

Nikita turned to the right, towards the river, and tried to follow the road, following other people's tracks, in the same places where the snow was untouched, clean - Nikita walked backwards in order to avert Arkady Ivanovich's eyes.

On the steep banks of the Chagra River these days large fluffy snowdrifts have piled up. In other places they hung like capes over the river. Just stand on such a cape, and he will hoot, sit down, and a mountain of snow will roll down in a cloud of snow dust.

To the right the river wound like a bluish shadow between white and deserted fields. To the left, above the very steep, blackened huts, sticking out the cranes of the village of Sosnovka. High blue haze rose from the rooftops and melted away. On the snowy cliff, where spots and streaks turned yellow from the ashes that had been raked out of the stoves this morning, small figures were moving. These were Nikita's friends - boys from "our end" of the village. And further, where the river was bent, you could hardly see other boys, "Konchan", very dangerous. Nikita threw down the shovel, lowered the bench into the snow, sat astride it, firmly grasped the rope, kicked off with his feet twice, and the bench itself went down the mountain. The wind whistled in my ears, snow dust rose from both sides. Down, all down like an arrow. And suddenly, where the snow broke off over the steep, the bench swept through the air and slid onto the ice. She went quieter, quieter and became.

Nikita laughed, climbed down from the bench and dragged it up the hill, bogging down to the knee. When he climbed ashore, not far away, on a snowy field, he saw a black, taller than human figure, as it seemed, the figure of Arkady Ivanovich. Nikita grabbed a shovel, threw himself on a bench, flew down and ran across the ice to the place where the snowdrifts hung like a cape over the river.

Climbing under the very cape, Nikita began to dig a cave. The work was easy - the snow was cut with a shovel. Having dug out the little cave, Nikita climbed into it, dragged the bench in and began to fill up with clods from the inside. When the wall was laid, a blue half-light spilled into the cave - it was cozy and pleasant.

Nikita sat and thought that none of the boys had such a wonderful bench. He took out a penknife and began to carve the name "Vevit" on the top board.

Nikita! Where did you fail? he heard the voice of Arkady Ivanovich.

Nikita put the knife in his pocket and looked through the gap between the clods. Below, on the ice, Arkady Ivanovich stood with his head thrown back.

Where are you, robber?

Arkady Ivanovich adjusted his spectacles and climbed up to the little cave, but immediately got stuck up to his waist.

Get out, I'll get you out of there anyway.

Nikita was silent, Arkady Ivanovich tried to climb higher; but got stuck again, put his hands in his pockets and said:

You don't want to, you don't have to. Stay. The fact is that my mother received a letter from Samara ... However, goodbye, I'm leaving ...

Which letter? asked Nikita.

Aha! So you are still here.

Can you tell me who the letter is from?

A letter about the arrival of some people for the holidays.

Snow clods immediately flew from above. Nikita's head popped out of the cave. Arkady Ivanovich laughed merrily.

MYSTERIOUS LETTER

At dinner, my mother finally read this letter. It was from the father.

- “Dear Sasha, I bought something that you and I decided to give to one boy, who, in my opinion, hardly deserves to be given this beautiful thing. - At these words, Arkady Ivanovich began to wink terribly. - This thing is quite large, so they sent an extra cart for it. And here is another piece of news - Anna Apollosovna Babkina is going to visit us for the holidays with her children ... "

I do not know anything.

Arkady Ivanovich was also silent, shrugging his hands: "I don't know anything." And in general, all that day, Arkady Ivanovich was excessively cheerful, answered inappropriately and no, no - and yes, he pulled out some letter from his pocket, read two lines from it and puckered his lips. Obviously, he had his own secret.

At dusk Nikita ran across the yard to the servants' quarters, from where the light of two frozen windows fell on the purple snow. They dined in the people's room. Nikita whistled three times. A minute later, his main friend, Mishka Koryashonok, appeared in huge felt boots, without a hat, in a sheepskin coat thrown over. Here, around the corner of the servants' quarters, Nikita told him in a whisper about the letter and asked what kind of thing they should bring from the city.

Mishka Koryashonok, chattering his teeth from the cold, said:

Certainly something huge, burst my eyes. I'll run, it's cold. Listen, we want to beat the Konchan guys in the village tomorrow. Will you go, huh?

Matushka and Arkady Ivanovich were sitting at a round table under a large lamp with books. Behind the large stove - tr-tr, tr-tr - a cricket was sawing a piece of wood. A floorboard crackled in the next dark room.

The headless horseman raced across the prairie, the tall grass whipped, the red moon rose over the lake. Nikita felt his hair moving at the back of his head. He turned around cautiously - some kind of grayish shadow swept past the black windows. Honestly, he saw her. Mother said, raising her head from her book:

The wind has risen to the night, there will be a blizzard.

Nikita had a dream - he had already dreamed it several times, all the same.

Easily, inaudibly, the door to the hall opens. There are bluish reflections of windows on the parquet. Behind the black windows hangs the moon - a large bright ball. Nikita climbed onto the card table in the wall between the windows and sees:

Here, on the contrary, at the wall as white as chalk, a round pendulum in a tall clock case sways, sways, shines with moonlight. Above the clock, on the wall, in a frame, hangs a strict old man, with a pipe, on the side of him - an old woman, in a cap and shawl, and looks, pursing her lips. From the clock to the corner, along the wall, they stretched out their arms, sat down, on four legs each, wide striped chairs. In the corner sat a squat low sofa. They sit without a face, without eyes, bulging into the moon, not moving.

From under the sofa, from under the fringe, a cat crawls out. Stretched, jumped on the sofa and went, black and long. Goes, lowered his tail. From the sofa he jumped onto the armchairs, walked along the armchairs along the wall, bends down, crawls under the handles. He reached the end, jumped down on the floor and sat down in front of the clock, with his back to the windows. The pendulum swings, the old man and the old woman look sternly at the cat. Then the cat got up, leaned on the case with one paw and tried to stop the pendulum with the other paw. There is no glass in the case. That's about to get a paw.

Oh, to scream! But Nikita can't move a finger—he doesn't move—and he's scared, scared—there's going to be trouble. Moonlight lies motionless in long squares on the floor. Everything in the hall fell silent, sat down on its legs. And the cat stretched out, bent his head, flattened his ears and took out a pendulum with his paw. And Nikita knows that if he touches it with his paw, the pendulum will stop, and at the same second everything will crack, split, ring and disappear like dust, there will be no hall, no moonlight.

From fear, Nikita's head is ringing with sharp pieces of glass, sand is pouring like goosebumps all over his body ... Gathering all his strength, Nikita threw himself on the floor with a desperate cry! And the floor suddenly went down. Nikita sat down. Looks back. There are two frosty windows in the room, a strange, more than ordinary, moon is visible through the glass. There is a pot on the floor, boots are lying around.

Page 1 of 21

Story: Nikita's childhood

SUNNY MORNING

Nikita sighed as he woke up and opened his eyes. The sun shone through the frosty patterns on the windows, through the wonderfully painted silver stars and palmate leaves. The light in the room was snow white. A bunny slid off the wash cup and trembled on the wall.
Opening his eyes, Nikita remembered that Pahom the carpenter had said to him last night:
- Here I will grease it and water it well, and you get up in the morning - sit down and go.
Yesterday evening, Pahom, a crooked and pockmarked peasant, made a bench for Nikita, at his special request. She did it like this:
In the carriage house, on the workbench, among the ring-twisted, odorous shavings, Pakhom hewed out two planks and four legs; the bottom board from the front edge - from the nose - cut off so that it does not jam in the snow; turned legs; in the upper board there are two cutouts for the legs in order to sit more dexterously. The bottom board was smeared with cow dung and watered three times in the cold - after that it was made like a mirror, a rope was tied to the top board - to carry a bench, and when you go down the mountain, then rule.
Now the bench, of course, is ready and stands at the porch. Pahom is such a person: "If he says what I said - the law, I will do it."
Nikita sat on the edge of the bed and listened - the house was quiet, no one else must have got up. If you get dressed in a minute, without any, of course, washing and brushing your teeth, then through the back door you can escape to the yard, And from the yard - to the river. There, on the steep banks, snowdrifts piled up - sit down and fly ...
Nikita got out of bed and tiptoed over the hot sunny squares on the floor...
At that moment the door opened a crack, and a head in spectacles, with protruding red eyebrows, and a bright red beard, poked his head into the room. The head winked and said:
"Are you up, robber?"

ARKADY IVANOVICH

A man with a red beard - Nikitin's teacher, Arkady Ivanovich, sniffed everything out since the evening and purposely got up early. Surprisingly quick and cunning was this man Arkady Ivanovich. He went into Nikita's room, laughing, stopped at the window, breathed on the glass, and when it became transparent, adjusted his glasses and looked out into the yard.
“There is a wonderful bench by the porch,” he said.
Nikita remained silent and frowned. I had to get dressed and brush my teeth, and wash not only my face, but also my ears and even my neck. After that, Arkady Ivanovich put his arm around Nikita's shoulders and led him into the dining room. At the table at the samovar sat my mother in a warm gray dress. She took Nikita by the face, looked into his eyes with clear eyes, and kissed him.
Did you sleep well, Nikita?
Then she held out her hand to Arkady Ivanovich and asked kindly:
- And how did you sleep, Arkady Ivanovich?
“I slept well,” he replied, smiling at something incomprehensible, into his red mustache, sat down at the table, poured cream into tea, threw a piece of sugar into his mouth, grabbed it with his white teeth and winked at Nikita through his glasses.
Arkady Ivanovich was an unbearable person: he always had fun, always winked, never spoke directly, but in such a way that his heart skipped a beat. For example, it seems that my mother clearly asked: “How did you sleep?” He replied: “I slept well when I slept,” which means that this must be understood: “But Nikita wanted to escape to the river from tea and classes, but yesterday Nikita, instead of a German translation, sat for two hours on a workbench at Pakhom.”
Arkady Ivanovich never complained, it's true, but Nikita had to keep his eyes open all the time.
Over tea, mother said that it had been very cold at night, the water in the tub had frozen in the hallway, and when they went for a walk, Nikita needed to put on a cap.
“Mom, honestly, the heat is terrible,” said Nikita.
“Please, put on your hat.”
- My cheeks prick and suffocate, I, mother, will catch a worse cold in a hood.
Mother silently looked at Arkady Ivanovich, at Nikita, her voice trembled:
"I don't know who you've become a fool for."
"Let's go to study," said Arkady Ivanovich, getting up resolutely and quickly rubbing his hands, as if there was no greater pleasure in the world than solving arithmetic problems and dictating proverbs and sayings that make your eyes close.
In a large empty white room, where a map of the two hemispheres hung on the wall, Nikita sat down at the table, covered in ink stains and painted faces. Arkady Ivanovich opened the problem book.
"Well," he said cheerfully, "where did you stop?" - And with a sharpened pencil he underlined the number of the problem.
“The merchant sold several arshins of blue cloth at 3 rubles 64 kopecks per arshin and black cloth…” Nikita read. And now, as always, this merchant from the problem book introduced himself to him. He was in a long, dusty frock coat, with a yellow, dull face, all dull and flat, dried up. His shop was as dark as a crack; on a dusty flat shelf lay two pieces of cloth; the merchant stretched out his lean hands towards them, took off the pieces from the shelf and looked with dull, inanimate eyes at Nikita.
- Well, what do you think, Nikita? asked Arkady Ivanovich. - In total, the merchant sold eighteen arshins. How much blue cloth was sold and how much black?
Nikita frowned, the merchant completely flattened out, both pieces of cloth entered the wall, wrapped in dust ...
Arkady Ivanovich said: "Ai-ai!" - and began to explain, quickly wrote numbers with a pencil, multiplied them and divided them, repeating: "One in the mind, two in the mind." It seemed to Nikita that during the multiplication - "one in the mind" or "two in the mind" quickly jumped from the paper into the head and tickled there so that they would not be forgotten. It was very unpleasant. And the sun sparkled in the two frosty windows of the classroom, beckoning: "Let's go to the river."
Finally, the arithmetic was over, the dictation began. Arkady Ivanovich walked along the wall and in a special, sleepy voice that people never speak, he began to dictate:
- “... All animals that are on earth are constantly working, working. The student was obedient and diligent…”
Sticking out the tip of his tongue, Nikita wrote, the pen creaked and splattered.
Suddenly, the door slammed in the house and it was heard walking along the corridor in frozen boots. Arkady Ivanovich lowered the book, listening. The joyful voice of the mother exclaimed nearby:
- Did you bring the mail?
Nikita completely lowered his head into his notebook, and he was tempted to laugh.
“Obediant and diligent,” he repeated in a singsong voice, “I wrote diligently.”
Arkady Ivanovich adjusted his glasses.
- So, all the animals that are on earth are obedient and diligent ... Why are you laughing? .. Planted an inkblot? .. However, we will now take a short break.
Arkady Ivanovich, pursing his lips, shook his long finger like a pencil, and quickly left the classroom. In the corridor he asked his mother:
- Alexandra Leontievna, what - I don’t have a letter?
Nikita guessed from whom he was expecting a letter. But there was no time to waste. Nikita put on a short sheepskin coat, felt boots, and a hat, thrust the hood under the chest of drawers so that they would not be found, and ran out onto the porch.