Textbook “Collection of tasks for practical exercises in the discipline “Russian language.
- Both thought - everyone thinks about his grief.
- Perhaps they would have thought about the consequences.
- The Russian people began to think, and, moreover, very seriously.
- They looked at each other, looked up, down and thought.
- For the first time since the beginning of the ascent, we thought about what to do next.
- On some problems, people even thought for the first time.
- Finally, this tired them, and they again thought about how to be.
- He left by car, and the guys thought about whether they should go to the island right now.
- From that time on, the plebeians thought about uniting the estates on the basis of equality on both sides.
- As soon as dawn broke, our hunters thought about how to take the little giraffe to the camp.
- They sat on the windowsill and thought: it was necessary to work out a plan of action decisive and quick.
- And of course, many physicists wondered if these nuclei could divide by themselves, spontaneously.
- And now the sailors thought about how differently everything would have turned out if they had not become a victim of a mirage.
- When the unloading was over, the Spaniards thought about their future, about the consequences of the shipwreck.
- The brothers put down their spoons, leaned on their elbows, and thought for a moment, as if sadness wafted at each of them from afar.
1
At the table sat the three Brovkin brothers - Alexei, Yakov and Gavrila. It was a rare occasion in today's times to see each other like that, to talk sincerely over a glass of wine. Today everything is in a hurry, everything is lack of time, today you are here, tomorrow you are already rushing a thousand miles in a sleigh, digging into the hay under a sheepskin coat ... It turned out that there were few people, not enough people. Yakov came from Voronezh, Gavrila from Moscow. Both were instructed to put on the left bank of the Neva, above the mouth of the Fontanka, barns, or storehouses, near the water - moorings, on the water - booms and fasten the entire bank with piles - in anticipation of the first ships of the Baltic fleet, which was built with all haste near Lodeinoye Field on the Svir . Alexander Danilovich Menshikov went there last year, ordered the mast timber to be felled, and just in time for the holy week, the first shipyard was laid. Famous carpenters from the Olonets district and blacksmiths from Ustyuzhina Zhelezopolskaya were brought there. Young master navigators who learned these things in Amsterdam, old masters from Voronezh and Arkhangelsk, glorious craftsmen from Holland and England built twenty-gun frigates, shnyavs, galliots, brigantines, boats, galleys and shmaks on the Svir. Pyotr Alekseevich galloped to the same place by a sledge track, and soon they were expecting him here in St. Petersburg. Aleksey, without a caftan, in one shirt of Dutch linen, fresh on the occasion of Sunday, turned up the lace cuffs, crumbled corned beef on a plank with a knife. In front of the brothers stood an earthenware cup with hot cabbage soup, a shtof with vodka, three tin cups, in front of each lay a slice of stale rye bread. “Shti with corned beef is not a curiosity in Moscow,” Aleksey, ruddy, clean-shaven, with a blond twisted mustache and a cropped head, told the brothers (his wig hung on the wall, on a wooden nail), “here only on holidays we will soon get corned beef. And sauerkraut - at Alexander Danilovich's cellar, at Bruce's, yes - perhaps - at me, and - only ... And that's because they guessed it - they themselves planted it in the garden. It's hard, it's hard to live. And everything is expensive, and there is nothing to get. Aleksey threw the crumbled corned beef off the board into a cup of cabbage soup and poured it into a glass. The brothers bowed to each other, sighed, drank and sedately began to sip. “They’re afraid to come here, they don’t have wives here at all, we live like in the desert, really... In winter, there are terrible snowstorms here and there, darkness, and there were a lot of things to do this winter ... And here, like today, the spring wind will turn, and an inconvenient predicate creeps into your head ... But here, brother, they ask you strictly ... Yakov, gnawing at the cartilage, said: — Yes, your places are gloomy. Yakov, unlike his brothers, did not look after himself - his brown caftan was stained, the buttons were torn off, his black tie was greasy around his hairy neck, and he smelled of kanuper tobacco all over. He wore his hair - shoulder-length - badly combed. “What are you talking about, brother,” answered Alexei, “our places are even very cheerful: lower, along the seashore, and, to the side, where the Dudergof manor is. Grasses - to the waist, birch groves - the hat falls, and rye, and every vegetable will be born, and berries ... In the very mouth of the Neva, of course, - swamp, game. But the sovereign, for some reason, chose the city here. The place is military, comfortable. One problem - the Swede is very worried. Last year, he fell on us like that from the Sister River and the fleet from the sea - we had a soul in our nose. But they repulsed. Now he won't come out of the sea. In January, near Kotlin Islands, we lowered rows of stones under the ice, and all winter they carried and poured stones. The river will not open yet - a round bastion with fifty cannons will be ready. Pyotr Alekseevich sent drawings from Voronezh and a self-made model and ordered to name the bastion - Kronshlot. - Well, it's a well-known thing, - said Yakov, - we argued with Pyotr Alekseevich about this model. I say: the bastion is low, the cannons will be poured into the wave, it is necessary to raise it twenty inches. He stroked me with a club. Utres called: "You, says Jacob, are right, but I am wrong." And, therefore, she brings me a cup and a pretzel. Reconciled. He gave me this pipe. Yakov pulled out a charred pipe with a cherry shank gnawed at the end from a pocket stuffed with all sorts of nonsense. He stuffed it and, sniffling, began to strike a spark on the tinder. The youngest, Gavrila, taller than his brothers and stronger in all his limbs, with youthful cheeks, with a dark mustache, big-eyed, like his sister Sanka, suddenly began to shake the spoon with cabbage soup and said - neither to the village, nor to the city: - Alyosha, I caught a cockroach. - What are you, stupid, it's an ember. Alexei took the black from the spoon and threw it on the table. Gavrila threw back his head and laughed, revealing his sugar teeth. “Neither give nor take, dead mother. It used to happen that dad would throw a spoon: - "Disgrace," he says, "a cockroach." And my mother: - "Coal, dear." And laughter, and sin. You, Alyosha, were older, but Yakov remembers how we lived on the stove without pants all winter. Sanka told us scary tales. Yes it was... The brothers laid down their spoons, leaned on their elbows, and thought for a moment, as if a breeze blew upon each of them from afar. Alexei poured a glass, and the unhurried conversation began again. Alexey began to complain: he watched the work in the fortress, where they sawed boards for the Peter and Paul Cathedral under construction - there were not enough saws and axes, it was becoming increasingly difficult to get bread, millet and salt for the workers; from starvation, horses fell, on which they carried stone and wood from the Finnish coast along the winter path. Now you can’t ride on a sleigh, carts are needed - there are no wheels ... Then, having poured each a glass, the brothers began to sort through the European politician. Surprised and condemned. Seems. enlightened states would work and trade honestly. So - no. The French king is at war on land and sea with the English, the Dutch and the emperor, and there is no end in sight to this war; the Turks, not dividing the Mediterranean with Venice and Spain, burn each other's fleets; only Friedrich, the King of Prussia, as long as he sits quietly and twirls his nose, sniffing where it is easier to snatch; Saxony, Silesia and Poland with Lithuania from region to region are burning with war and civil strife; the month before last, King Charles ordered the Poles to elect a new king, and now there are two kings in Poland - Augustus of Saxony and Stanislaw Leshchinsky, - the Polish pans, some became for August, others for Stanislav, get excited, cut with sabers at the sejmiks, take up arms with the gentry, burn each a friend has villages and estates, and King Charles wanders with his troops around Poland, feeds, robs, ruins cities and threatens, when he bends all of Poland, to turn on Tsar Peter and burn Moscow, devastate the Russian state; then he will proclaim himself the new Alexander of Macedon. You could say the whole world has gone mad... With a clang, a large icicle suddenly fell behind a deep, four-glass window in the daubed wall. The brothers turned around and saw a bottomless, blue - which only happens here on the seaside - moist sky, they heard frequent drops from the roof and sparrows bustle on a bare bush. Then they started talking about the essentials. “There are three of us brothers. Alexei said thoughtfully. "Three bitter horses." My batman washes my shirts, and sews on a button when necessary, but it’s all wrong ... Not a woman’s hand ... And that’s not the point, God bless them with shirts ... I want her to wait for me at the window, looked at the street. But you will arrive, tired, chilled, you will fall on a hard bed, with your nose into the pillow, like a dog, alone in the world ... but where can you find it? .. - That's it - where? - said Yakov, resting his elbows on the table, and blew three puffs of smoke from the pipe one after the other. - I, brother, inveterate. I won’t marry some illiterate fool, I don’t have anything to talk about with such a fool. And with white hands, the hawthorn, which you twirl at the assembly and say compliments to her on the orders of Pyotr Alekseevich, will not go for me on her own ... So I subsist on something when I am in need ... It’s bad, of course, dirt. Yes, mathematics alone is dearer to me than all the women in the world ... Alexey - to him - quietly: One is not a hindrance to the other... "So it's a hindrance if I'm talking." There is a sparrow on the bush, he has no other occupation - jump over the sparrow ... But God created man to think. Yakov glanced at the smaller one and wheezed on his pipe. “Isn’t Gavryushka our agile in this regard?” From the very neck, Gavrila's whole face was flushed with a blush. He chuckled slowly, his eyes watering, he didn't know—in embarrassment—where to take them. Yakov kicked him with his elbow: - Tell me. I love these conversations. - Come on, you really ... And there is nothing to tell ... I'm still young ... - But Yakov, and after him Alexei became attached: and this is what he told the brothers at the end. Just before Christmas, in the evening, a palace runner ran to Ivan Artemyich's courtyard and said that "Gavrila Ivanov Brovkin was ordered to be at the palace at once." Gavrila was stubborn at first - although he was young, but - a person, the tsar was in full view, besides, he outlined in Chinese ink a completed drawing of a two-deck ship for the Voronezh shipyard and wanted to show this drawing to his students at the Navigation School, in the Sukharev Tower, where By order of Peter Alekseevich, he taught ship art to the noble undergrowth. Ivan Artemyich sternly reprimanded his son: "Put on, Gavryushka, a French caftan, go where you are ordered, you don't joke with such matters." Gavrila put on a white silk caftan, girded himself with a scarf, let go of the lace from behind his chin, perfumed his black wig with musk, put on a cloak that was spur-length, and on his father’s troika, which all of Moscow envied, went to the Kremlin. The runner led him up narrow stairs, dark passages upstairs to the old stone chambers that had survived the great fire. There, all the chambers were low, vaulted, painted with all sorts of grass-flowers on a golden, scarlet, green field; there was a smell of wax and old incense, it was hot from the tiled stoves, where a lazy Angora cat was dozing on each couch, valleys and jugs gleamed behind the mica doors of the stalls, from which, perhaps, Ivan the Terrible drank, but now they are no longer used. Gavrila, with all contempt for this antiquity, beat with spurs on carved stone slabs. At the last door he bent down, took a step, and charm seized him like a fever. Under the dull golden vault there was a table on winged griffins, candles were burning on it, in front of them, resting her bare elbows on scattered sheets, sat a young woman in a fur shower jacket thrown over her bare shoulders; soft light poured over her tender, roundish face; she wrote; she threw down her swan feather, raised her hand with the rings to her blond head, straightening her twisted thick braid, and raised her velvety eyes to Gavrila. It was Princess Natalya Alekseevna. Gavrila did not begin to fall at his feet, as it seems, he was supposed to be a barbaric custom, but on the whole French politeness he struck in front of him with his left foot and waved his hat low, covering himself with the tows of a black wig. The princess smiled at him with the corners of her small mouth, left the table, lifted her wide pearl satin skirt from the sides and sat down low. Are you Gavrila, son of Ivan Artemyich? the princess asked, looking at him with eyes shining from the candles from the bottom up, since he was tall - almost to the very vault with a wig. - Hello. Sit down. Your sister, Alexandra Ivanovna, sent me a letter from The Hague, she writes that you can be very useful for my affairs. Have you been to Paris? Have you seen theaters in Paris? Gavrila had to talk about how the year before last he and two navigators traveled from The Hague to Paris for Shrovetide and what miracles he saw there - theaters and street carnivals. Natalya Alekseevna wanted to know everything in detail, impatiently tapped her heel when he hesitated - she could not sensibly explain; in admiration, she moved close, looking with dilated pupils, she even opened her mouth, marveling at French customs. “Here,” she said, “people don’t sit like biryuks in their yards, they know how to have fun and amuse others, and they dance in the streets, and listen to comedies willingly ... We need to have something like this. You are an engineer, they say. I’m ordering you to rebuild one ward - I looked after it for the theater ... Take a candle, let's go ... " Gavrila took a heavy candlestick with a burning candle; Natalya Alekseevna with a flying gait, rustling her dress, went ahead of him through the vaulted chambers, where Angora cats woke up on hot beds, stretched their backs and again lay down basking; where from the vaults - here and there - the callous faces of the tsars of Moscow looked irreconcilably sternly after Princess Natalya, dragging herself into hell, and this young man in a wig horned like a devil, and all the cherished antiquity of Moscow. On the steep, narrow stairs descending into darkness, Natalya Alekseevna became timid, put her bare hand under Gavrila's elbow; he felt the warmth of her shoulder, the smell of her hair, the fur of her shower jacket; she put out a morocco slipper with a blunt nose from under the hem of her skirt, bending down into the darkness - she descended more and more carefully; Gavrila began to shiver a little inside, and her voice became muffled; when they went downstairs, she quickly, attentively looked into his eyes. “Open this door,” she said, pointing to a low door upholstered in moth-eaten cloth. Natalya Alekseevna was the first to step through the high threshold into the warm darkness, where there was a smell of mice and dust. Raising the candle high, Gavrila saw a large vaulted chamber with four squat pillars. Here in ancient times there was a dining hut, where the humble Tsar Mikhail Fedorovich dined with the Zemsky Sobor. The paintings on the vaults and pillars were peeling off, the plank floors creaked. In the depths, bast wigs, paper robes and other comedian rags hung on nails, in the corner tin crowns and armor, scepters, wooden swords, broken chairs were piled - all that remained of the recently abolished - due to stupidity and great obscenity - the German theater of Johann Kunsta , the former on Red Square. “Here will be my theater,” said Natalya, “on this side you will put up a platform for comedians with a curtain and bowls, and here - for the spectators - benches. The vaults must be painted smartly, so that it would be fun - so fun ... " In the same order, Gavrila led Princess Natalya upstairs, and she let him go, wishing him to kiss the hand. He returned home at midnight and, as he was in a wig and a caftan, fell on the bed and looked at the ceiling, as if in the dim light of a swollen candle he could still see his round face with velvety fixed eyes, a small mouth that uttered words, tender shoulders half-covered by a fragrant fur, and everything was noisy, flying before him into the hot darkness, the heavy folds of a pearl skirt ... The next evening, Princess Natalya again ordered him to be at her place and read "The Cave Action" - her own, still unfinished, comedy about three youths in a fiery cave. Gavrila listened until late as she uttered, waving a swan feather, folding verses, and it seemed to him that he was not one of the three youths, ready to scream furiously with happiness, standing naked in a fiery cave ... He undertook the restructuring of the old chamber with all the ardor, although immediately the clerks of the Palace order began to stumbling him and all sorts of red tape because of the wood, lime, nails and other things. Ivan Artemyich kept quiet, although he saw that Gavrila had abandoned the drawings and did not go to the Navigation School, at dinner, without touching the spoon, staring with stupid eyes at an empty place, and at night, when people were sleeping, he burned a whole candle worth a altyn. Only once Ivan Artemyevitch, twirling his fingers behind his back, chewing his lips, reprimanded his son; “I’ll say one thing, one thing, Gavryushka, you walk close to the fire, beware ...” During Great Lent, Tsar Peter rushed from Voronezh through Moscow to the Svir and ordered Gavrila to go with his brother Yakov to St. Petersburg - to build a harbor. That was the end of his affairs with the theater ... That was how Gavrila ended his story. He got out from behind the table, unbuttoned the many buttons on his Dutch jacket, spread it across his chest, and, thrusting his hands into his short trousers, wide like bubbles, strode along the mud-soiled hut, from the door to the window. Alexei said: "And you can't forget her?" - No ... And I don’t want to forget this, even if you threaten me with a chopping block ... Yakov said, tapping his nails on the table: “It was Mom who gave us a frantic heart ... And Sanka is the same ... There's nothing to be done - there is nothing to treat this disease with. Come on, brothers, pour and drink - the memory of our parent, Avdotya Evdokimovna ... At that moment, in the entryway, thrashing about in the mud, boots clattered, spurs rattled, the door was torn open, and in a black raincoat, thrown mud, in a black hat with a silver lace, bombardier-lieutenant of the Preobrazhensky regiment, governor-general of Ingria, Karelia and Estonia, governor of Shlisselburg Alexander Danilovich Menshikov.- Neither give nor take the dead mother. It used to happen that dad would throw a spoon: "Disgrace, he says, a cockroach." And my mother: "Coal, dear." And laughter and sin. You, Alyosha, were older, but Yakov remembers how we lived on the stove without pants all winter. Sanka told us scary tales. Yes it was…
The brothers laid down their spoons, leaned on their elbows, and thought for a moment, as if a breeze blew upon each of them from afar. Alexey poured into glasses, and again a leisurely conversation began. Alexey began to complain: he watched the work in the fortress, where they sawed boards for the Peter and Paul Cathedral under construction - there were not enough saws and axes, it was becoming increasingly difficult to get bread, millet and salt for the workers; from starvation, horses fell, on which they carried stone and wood from the Finnish coast along the winter path. Now you won’t be able to ride on a sleigh, carts are needed, there are no wheels ...
Then, pouring a glass each, the brothers began to sort through the European politician. Surprised and condemned. It seems that enlightened states would work and trade honestly. So - no. The French king is at war on land and sea with the English, the Dutch and the emperor, and there is no end in sight to this war; the Turks, not dividing the Mediterranean with Venice and Spain, burn each other's fleets; only Frederick, the King of Prussia, as long as he sits quietly and twirls his nose, sniffing where it is easier to snatch; Saxony, Silesia and Poland with Lithuania from region to region are burning with war and civil strife; the month before last, King Charles ordered the Poles to elect a new king, and now there are two kings in Poland - August of Saxony and Stanislav Leshchinsky - Polish pans, some became for August, others for Stanislav, get excited, cut with sabers at the sejmiks - taking up arms with the gentry, burning each other's villages and estates, and King Charles roams with his troops in Poland, feeds, robs, ruins cities and threatens, when he bends all of Poland, to turn on Tsar Peter and burn Moscow, devastate the Russian state; then he will proclaim himself the new Alexander of Macedon. We can say: the whole world has gone crazy ...
With a clanging, a large icicle suddenly fell behind a deep - in a smeared wall - a window of four pieces of glass. The brothers turned around and saw the bottomless, blue - which only happens here on the seaside - moist sky, they heard frequent drops from the roof and sparrows fussing on a bare bush. Then they started talking about the essentials.
“Here we are, three brothers,” Alexei said thoughtfully, “three bitter horses.” My batman washes my shirts and sews on a button when necessary, but it’s all wrong ... Not a woman’s hand ... And that’s not the point, God bless them, with shirts ... I want her to wait for me at the window, looking out into the street. But you will come tired, chilled, you will fall on a hard bed, with your nose into the pillow, like a dog, alone in the world ... But where to find it? ..
- That's it - where? - said Yakov, resting his elbows on the table, and blew three puffs of smoke from the pipe one after the other. - I, brother, inveterate. I won’t marry some illiterate fool, I don’t have anything to talk about with such a fool. And with white hands, the hawthorn, which you twirl at the assembly and say compliments to her on the orders of Pyotr Alekseevich, will not go for me on her own ... So I make a living with something when I am in need ... It’s bad, of course, dirt. Yes, mathematics alone is dearer to me than all the women in the world ...
Alexey - to him - quietly:
One is not an obstacle to the other...
“So it’s a hindrance if I’m talking. There is a sparrow on the bush, he has no other occupation - jump over the sparrow ... But God created man to think. Yakov glanced at the smaller one and wheezed on his pipe. - Isn't Gavryushka our agile in this regard.
From the very neck, Gavrila's whole face was flushed with a blush; he chuckled slowly, his eyes filled with moisture, he did not know - in embarrassment - where to take them.
Yakov kicked him with his elbow:
- Tell me. I love these conversations.
- Come on, you’re right ... And there’s nothing to tell ... I’m still young ... - But Yakov, and Alexei after him, became attached: “Your own fool, why have you become shy ...” Gavrila resisted for a long time, then began to sigh, and this is what he said in the end brothers.
Just before Christmas, in the evening, a palace runner came running to the court of Ivan Artemich and said that “Gavrila Ivanov Brovkin was ordered to be at the palace at once.” Gavrila was stubborn at first - although he was young, but - a person, the tsar was in full view, besides, he outlined in Chinese ink a completed drawing of a two-deck ship for the Voronezh shipyard and wanted to show this drawing to his students at the Navigation School, in the Sukharev Tower, where By order of Peter Alekseevich, he taught ship art to the noble undergrowth. Ivan Artemich sternly reprimanded his son: “Put on, Gavryushka, a French caftan, go where you are ordered, they don’t joke with such matters.”
Gavrila put on a white silk caftan, girded himself with a scarf, let go of the lace from behind his chin, perfumed his black wig with musk, put on a cloak that was spur-length, and on his father’s troika, which all of Moscow envied, went to the Kremlin.
The runner led him up narrow stairs, dark passages upstairs to the old stone chambers that had survived the great fire. There, all the chambers were low, vaulted, painted with all sorts of grass-flowers on a golden, scarlet, green field; there was a smell of wax and old incense, it was hot from the tiled stoves, where a lazy Angora cat was dozing on each couch, valleys and jugs gleamed behind the mica doors of the stalls, from which, perhaps, Ivan the Terrible drank, but now they are no longer used. Gavrila, with all contempt for this antiquity, beat with spurs on carved stone slabs. At the last door he bent down, took a step, and charm seized him like a fever.
Under the dull golden vault there was a table on winged griffins, candles were burning on it, in front of them, resting her bare elbows on scattered sheets, sat a young woman in a fur shower jacket thrown over her bare shoulders; soft light poured over her tender, roundish face; she wrote; she threw down her swan feather, raised her hand with the rings to her blond head, straightening her twisted thick braid, and raised her velvety eyes to Gavrila. It was Princess Natalya Alekseevna.
Gavrila did not begin to fall at his feet, as it seems, he was supposed to be a barbaric custom, but on the whole French politeness he struck in front of him with his left foot and waved his hat low, covering himself with the tows of a black wig. The princess smiled at him with the corners of her small mouth, left the table, lifted her wide pearl satin skirt from the sides and sat down low.
“Are you Gavrila, son of Ivan Artemich? - asked the princess, looking at him with eyes shining from the candles from the bottom up, since he was tall - almost under the very arch with a wig. - Hello. Sit down. Your sister, Alexandra Ivanovna, sent me a letter from The Hague, she writes that you can be very useful for my affairs. Have you been to Paris? Have you seen theaters in Paris?
Gavrila had to tell about how the year before last he and two navigators traveled from The Hague to Paris for Shrovetide and what miracles he saw there - theaters and street carnivals. Natalya Alekseevna wanted to know everything in detail, impatiently tapped her heel when he hesitated - she could not sensibly explain; in admiration, she moved close, looking with dilated pupils, she even opened her mouth, marveling at French customs.
“Here,” she said, “people don’t sit like biryuks in their yards, they know how to have fun and amuse others, and they dance in the streets, and listen to comedies willingly ... We need to have something like this. Are you an engineer, they say? I’m ordering you to rebuild one ward - I looked after it for the theater. Take a candle, let's go ... "
Gavrila took a heavy candlestick with a burning candle; Natalya Alekseevna, with a flying gait, rustling her dress, went ahead of him through the vaulted chambers, where Angora cats woke up on hot beds, arched their backs and again lay down basking; where from the vaults - here and there - the callous faces of the tsars of Moscow looked irreconcilably sternly after Princess Natalya, dragging herself into hell, and this young man in a wig horned like a devil, and all the cherished antiquity of Moscow.
On the steep, narrow stairs descending into darkness, Natalya Alekseevna became timid, put her bare hand under Gavrila's elbow; he felt the warmth of her shoulder, the smell of her hair, the fur of her shower jacket; she put out a morocco slipper with a blunt nose from under the hem of her skirt, bending down into the darkness - she descended more and more carefully; Gavrila began to shiver a little inside, and her voice became muffled; when they went downstairs, she quickly, attentively looked into his eyes.
complex sentence,
- consider the types of subordinate clauses,
To develop the speech-thinking activity of students,
- develop the skills of correct punctuation in complex sentences by performing training exercises,
To form a stable motivation to study the Russian language, to achieve punctuation literacy as an important quality of a future specialist,
- formation of communicative competence of students.
Requirements for the level of specialist training :
Must know:
- the subject of studying syntax and punctuation,
- structural features of complex sentences;
- types of subordinate clauses;
Features of punctuation marks in complex sentences.
Should be able to:
- identify complex sentences in the text;
- determine the type of subordinate clause;
Correct punctuation in complex sentences
Build your own statements, taking into account the norms of the modern Russian literary language and the requirements of style.
Equipment: educational literature, texts, assignments.
General theoretical information:
Characteristics of a complex sentence. Structural features of a complex sentence (CSP).
Types of subordinate clauses.
Putting punctuation marks in a complex sentence.
Tasks:
Task 2. Write down the sentence, put punctuation marks, draw up a sentence scheme.
From this it becomes so good so much fun that you want to run away somewhere far away to where the trunks of young birch trees sparkle with dazzling whiteness.
Task 3. Write off the sentences, placing the necessary punctuation marks, first NGN with attributive clauses, then with explanatory and adverbial clauses. Indicate the type of subordinate clauses with adverbial meaning.
Grandma tell me a story that my mother loved. 2. He did not know that his brother would bring him a present. 3. Try to love the one you didn't love who offended you. 4. And if you manage to do this, then right now your heart will feel good and joyful. 5. The small house where Lavretsky arrived and where Glafira Petrovna died two years ago was built in the last century from durable pine glass. 6. Although he could stay with friends, Peter returned home. 7. Here you will see as much gold as neither you nor I ever dreamed of. 8. I managed to talk to the person I was looking for. 9. In the morning he assisted Kharlamov and thought about how and when the damned time bomb would work. 10. No matter how hard he tried to convince us, no one believed him. 11. This is what one person can do when he has a technique in his hands. 12. It happens that one word sticks to you and does not give you rest. 13. This was the feeling that he so longed for in Moscow, only bright, almost completely cleansed of selfishness. 14. One of the novels has been conceived so long ago that some of the characters are already outdated before they can be written.
We l .. tel in the high .. not and saw how others below us were stinging the lights of the city. And yet (still) it was (not) like flying by myself .. flying because we soared like birds with reliable .. and rare wings. I felt both my body and the air washing over me like water.
Mf l..tel to the stars that were getting bigger and brighter. The hurricane wind hit my face, my forehead froze, my nostrils dilated. Then the hurricane subsided, although the air became almost piercing cold. We again soared in the heights that seemed to be tested for strength.
I felt how her hand was gradually cooling down .. in mine, how her fingers were trembling. We did not land, but descended on it like birds. I could not see her face properly, but it seemed to me that she had become very pale.. day. When at last I felt her hand, cold as ice, grabbed Dorothea, we walked along the ground and I led her along.
(P. Vezhinov)
Task 5. Write down suggestions. Describe the subordinate part, determine the means of connection of the subordinate part with the main one. Fill in the missing punctuation marks. Make schemes 3, 8, 11 of the sentences.
The brothers laid down their spoons, leaned on their elbows for a moment, and thought for a moment, as if sadness wafted over everyone from afar. (A. N. Tolstoy) 2. ... And I'm sorry if the birds shake off the beauty of the branches. (A. A. Fet) 3. The surface of the river is pitted and agitated, as if a giant plowman walked along it and touched it with his huge plow. (A.P. Chekhov) 4. We were looking forward to when old acquaintances, starlings, would fly to our garden again. (A. I. Kuprin) 5. I'll tell you what kind of bird I am. (A.P. Chekhov) 6. Prince Vasily always spoke lazily, like an actor speaking the role of an old play. (L. N. Tolstoy) 7. He looked preoccupied and concentrated, as if he was inventing a telephone. (A.P. Chekhov) 8. In the tent where we had already climbed for the night, the moonlight turned blue and yellow with tobacco smoke. (N. Gribachev) 9. I came to this world to see the Sun and the blue outlook. (K. Balmont) 10. When I entered the hall and looked into the hall, I saw a touching picture. (A.P. Chekhov) 11. While the visiting gentleman was inspecting his room, his belongings were brought in. (N.V. Gogol) 12. He entered the dark, wide entrance hall from which it blew cold as if from a cellar. (N.V. Gogol) 13. I have placed in this book only what related to Pechorin's stay in the Caucasus. (M. Yu. Lermontov) 14. A little morning the French guns lit up right there. (M. Yu. Lermontov) 15. No matter how sorry Levin was to crush the grass, he drove into the meadow. (L. N. Tolstoy)
Alexei knew that if his father took something into his head, then, in the words of Taras Skotinin, you couldn’t even knock it out with a nail. (A. S. Pushkin) 2. There are such deaf and secluded places on our river that when you make your way through the tangled forest thickets and sit down near the water itself, you will feel yourself in a separate, detached from the rest of the earthly space. (V. Soloukhin) 3. The bear fell in love with Nikolka so much that when he went somewhere, the beast sniffed the air anxiously. (M. Gorky) 4. It seems to me that if the closet was two miles away and the frame would weigh twice as much, I would be very pleased. (LN Tolstoy) 5. Do not break the thread of friendship, because if you have to tie it again, a knot will remain. (K. Ushinsky) 6. Khadzhi - Murat sat down and said that if only they sent him to the Lezgin line and gave an army, he would guarantee that he would raise the whole of Dagestan. (L. N. Tolstoy)
We lived in a village where in front of the window we had a meadow all golden with many blooming dandelions. Everyone says that it is beautiful that the meadow is golden. Once I got up early to fish and noticed that the meadow was not golden but green. When I returned home around noon, the meadow again became all golden. I began to observe and noticed that by evening the meadow had turned green again. Then I went and found a dandelion and it turned out that he squeezed his petals, as if our fingers were yellow from the side of the palm, and clenching them into a fist, we would close the yellow. In the morning, when the sun rose, I saw how dandelions open their palms and from this the meadow becomes golden again.
Since then, the dandelion has become one of the most interesting flowers for us, because dandelions went to bed with us and got up with us.
(According to M. Prishvin)
Do a full parse of the last sentence. Determine the style and type of speech of the text.
Report requirements: the work must be done in a notebook for practical work.
Test questions:
Describe the complex sentence.
What are the structural features of complex sentences?
Describe the types of subordinate clauses known to you.
Tell us about the rules for punctuation marks in complex sentences.
List of recommended literature:
Antonova E.S., Voiteleva T.M. Russian language: a textbook for institutions of primary and secondary vocational education / E. S. Antonova, T. M. Voiteleva. - M .: Publishing Center "Academy", 2012.
Voiteleva T.M. Russian language: a collection of exercises: study guide for the beginning. and secondary vocational education / T. M. Voiteleva. - M .: Publishing Center "Academy", 2012.
Grekov V. F. Russian language. Grades 10-11: textbook for general education. institutions /V. F. Grekov, S. E. Kryuchkov, L. A. Cheshko. - 4th ed. - M .: Education, 2011. - 368 p.
Practice #17 . The number of hours is 2 hours.
Subject: Punctuation marks in a non-union complex sentence.
4.
Dried smelt, s/s omul, s/s salmon, s/s oil; cherry tomatoes, olives, parsley, Lakinskoye beer.
5.
Salted white mushrooms (with onion, garlic, fragrant sunflower oil and a bit of black pepper); baguette "Rye with flax and sunflower seeds"; salted bacon, cherry; cumin tincture.
* * *
"... Aleksey, without a caftan, in one shirt of Dutch linen, fresh on the occasion of Sunday, tucking up the lace cuffs, crumbled corned beef on a plank with a knife. In front of the brothers stood an earthenware cup with hot cabbage soup, a damask with vodka, three pewter cups, in front of each lay a slice of rye stale bread.
“Shti with corned beef is not a curiosity in Moscow,” Alexei told the brothers, ruddy, clean-shaven, with a blond twisted mustache and a cropped head (his wig hung on the wall, on a wooden nail), “here only on holidays we will soon eat corned beef. And sauerkraut - at Alexander Danilovich's cellar, at Bruce's, yes - perhaps - at me and - only ... And that's because they guessed it - they themselves planted it in the garden. It's hard, it's hard to live. And everything is expensive, and there is nothing to get.
Aleksey threw the crumbled corned beef from the board into a cup of cabbage soup and poured it into a glass. The brothers bowed to each other, sighed, drank and sedately began to sip.
- They are afraid to go here, the wives are here, read that, not at all, we live like in the desert, she-she ... In winter, back and forth - terrible snowstorms, darkness, and there were many things to do this winter ... But , as today, the spring wind will wrap, - and an inconvenient predicate creeps into my head ... But here, brother, they ask you strictly ...
Yakov, gnawing at the cartilage, said:
- Yes, your places are gloomy.
Yakov, unlike his brothers, did not look after himself - his brown caftan was stained, the buttons were torn off, his black tie was greasy on his hairy neck, he smelled all over of kanuper tobacco. He wore his hair - shoulder-length - poorly combed.
- What are you, brother, - answered Alexei, - our places are even very cheerful: lower, along the seaside, and to the side, where the Dudergof manor is. Grasses - waist-deep, birch groves - the hat falls, and rye, and every vegetable will be born, and berries ... In the very mouth of the Neva, of course, - swamp, game. But for some reason, the sovereign chose the city here. The place is military, comfortable. One problem - the Swede is very worried. Last year, he fell on us like that from the Sister River and the fleet from the sea - we had a soul in our nose. But they repulsed. Now he won't come out of the sea. In January, near Kotlin, we lowered the islands under the ice with stones and carried and poured stone all winter. The river has not yet opened - a round bastion with fifty cannons will be ready. Pyotr Alekseevich sent drawings from Voronezh and a self-made model and ordered to name the bastion - Kronshlot.
- Well, it's a well-known thing, - said Yakov, - we argued with Pyotr Alekseevich about this model. I say: the bastion is low, the cannons will be poured into the wave, it is necessary to raise it twenty inches. He stroked me with a club. Utras called: "You, says Jacob, are right, but I am wrong." And, therefore, she brings me a cup and a pretzel. Reconciled. He gave me this pipe.
Yakov pulled out a charred pipe with a cherry shank gnawed at the end from a pocket stuffed with all sorts of nonsense. He stuffed it and, sniffling, began to strike a spark on the tinder. The youngest, Gavrila, taller than his brothers and stronger in all his limbs, with youthful cheeks, with a dark mustache, big-eyed, like his sister Sanka, suddenly began to shake a spoon with cabbage soup and said - neither to the village, nor to the city:
- Alyosha, I caught a cockroach.
- What are you, stupid, it's a piece of coal. - Alexei took the black one from the spoon and threw it on the table. Gavrila threw back his head and laughed, revealing his sugar teeth.
- Neither give nor take the dead mother. It used to happen that dad would throw a spoon: "Disgrace, he says, a cockroach." And my mother: "Coal, darling." And laughter and sin. You, Alyosha, were older, but Yakov remembers how we lived on the stove without pants all winter. Sanka told us scary tales. Yes it was...
The brothers laid down their spoons, leaned on their elbows, and thought for a moment, as if sadness wafted at each of them from afar. Aleksey poured into glasses, and again a leisurely conversation began ...
(...)
Then, having poured each a glass, the brothers began to sort through the European politician. Surprised and condemned. It seems that enlightened states would work and trade honestly. Yes, no..."
(A.N. Tolstoy, "Peter the Great")
Two heads and six legs; four walk, and two lie still
Self-esteem - what is it: concept, structure, types and levels
Cassandra's Path, or Pasta Adventures War on Earth and Underground