Biographies Characteristics Analysis

The meaning of the word boy-kibalchish in the literary encyclopedia. The boy-kibalchish was born in the Khabarovsk psychiatric hospital. The work of the boy-kibalchish.

Arkady Petrovich Gaidar

A tale about a military secret, about Malchish-Kibalchish and his firm word

In those distant, distant years, when the war had just died down throughout the country, there lived Malchish-Kibalchish.

At that time, the Red Army drove far away the white troops of the damned bourgeoisie, and everything became quiet in those wide fields, in the green meadows, where rye grew, where buckwheat blossomed, where among the dense gardens and cherry bushes stood the little house in which Malchish, nicknamed Kibalchish, lived. , yes, Malchish’s father, and Malchish’s older brother, but they didn’t have a mother.

Father works - mows hay. My brother works, hauling hay. And Malchish himself either helps his father or his brother, or simply jumps and plays around with other boys.

Hop!.. Hop!.. Good! Bullets don't screech, shells don't crash, villages don't burn. You don’t have to lie down on the floor from bullets, you don’t have to hide in cellars from shells, you don’t have to run into the forest from fires. There is nothing to be afraid of the bourgeoisie. There is no one to bow to. Live and work - a good life!

Then one day, towards evening, Malchish-Kibalchish came out onto the porch. He looks - the sky is clear, the wind is warm, the sun is setting behind the Black Mountains at night. And everything would be fine, but something is not good. Malchish hears something as if something is rattling or knocking. It seems to the boy that the wind smells not of flowers from the gardens, not of honey from the meadows, but the wind smells of either smoke from fires, or gunpowder from explosions. He told his father, and his father came tired.

What you? - he says to Malchish. - These are distant thunderstorms thundering behind the Black Mountains. These are the shepherds smoking fires across the Blue River, grazing their flocks and cooking dinner. Go, Boy, and sleep well.

Malchish left. Went to sleep. But he can’t sleep—well, he just can’t fall asleep.

Suddenly he hears stomping on the street and knocking at the windows. Malchish-Kibalchish looked, and he saw: a horseman standing at the window. The horse is black, the saber is light, the hat is gray, and the star is red.

Hey, get up! - the rider shouted. - Trouble came from where we didn’t expect it. The damned bourgeois attacked us from behind the Black Mountains. Again bullets are whistling, again shells are exploding. Our troops are fighting the bourgeoisie, and messengers are rushing to call for help from the distant Red Army.

So the red-star horseman said these alarming words and rushed away. And Malchish’s father went to the wall, took off his rifle, threw in his bag and put on his bandoleer.

Well,” he says to his eldest son, “I sowed rye thickly - apparently you’ll have a lot to harvest.” Well,” he says to Malchish, “I’ve lived a great life, and apparently you, Malchish, will have to live peacefully for me.”

So he said, kissed Malchish deeply and left. And he didn’t have time to kiss much, because now everyone could see and hear the explosions buzzing across the meadows and the dawns burning behind the mountains from the glow of smoky fires...

A day passes, two days pass. Malchish will come out onto the porch: no... there’s no sign of the Red Army yet. Malchish will climb onto the roof. He doesn't get off the roof all day. No, I don't see it.

He went to bed at night. Suddenly he hears stomping on the street and a knock at the window. Malchish looked out: the same horseman was standing at the window. Only a thin and tired horse, only a bent, dark saber, only a bullet-ridden hat, a cut star, and a bandaged head.

Hey, get up! - the rider shouted. - It was not so bad, but now there’s trouble all around. There are many bourgeois, but few of us. There are clouds of bullets in the field, thousands of shells hitting the squads. Hey, get up, let's help!

Then the elder brother stood up and said to Malchish:

Goodbye, Malchish... You are left alone... Cabbage soup in the cauldron, a loaf on the table, water in the keys, and your head on your shoulders... Live as best you can, but don’t wait for me.

A day passes, two days pass. Malchish sits by the chimney on the roof, and Malchish sees an unfamiliar horseman galloping from afar.

The rider galloped to Malchish, jumped off his horse and said:

Give me, good Boy, some water to drink. I didn’t drink for three days, didn’t sleep for three nights, drove three horses. The Red Army learned about our misfortune. The trumpeters sounded all the signal pipes. The drummers beat all the loud drums. The standard bearers unfurled all their battle flags. The entire Red Army rushes and gallops to the rescue. If only we, Malchish, could hold out until tomorrow night.

The boy got down from the roof and brought him something to drink. The messenger got drunk and rode on.

Then evening comes, and Malchish goes to bed. But the boy can’t sleep - well, what kind of sleep is that?

Suddenly he hears footsteps on the street and a rustling at the window. Malchish looked and saw: the same man standing at the window. That one, but not that one: and there is no horse - the horse is missing, and there is no saber - the saber is broken, and there is no hat - the hat has flown off, and he himself is standing - staggering.

Hey, get up! - he shouted for the last time. - And there are shells, but the arrows are broken. And there are rifles, but there are few fighters. And help is close, but there is no strength. Hey, get up, who's still left! If only we could stand the night and hold out for the day.

Malchish-Kibalchish looked into the street: an empty street. The shutters don't slam, the gates don't creak - there's no one to get up. And the fathers left, and the brothers left - there was no one left.

Only Malchish sees that an old grandfather of a hundred years old came out of the gate. Grandfather wanted to lift the rifle, but he was so old that he couldn’t lift it. Grandfather wanted to attach the saber, but he was so weak that he couldn’t attach it. Then the grandfather sat down on the rubble, lowered his head and began to cry.

Then Malchish felt pain. Then Malchish-Kibalchish jumped out into the street and shouted loudly:

Hey, you boys, little boys! Or should we boys just play with sticks and jump ropes? And the fathers left, and the brothers left. Or should we, boys, sit and wait for the bourgeoisie to come and take us into their damned bourgeoisie?

How the little boys heard such words, how they screamed at the top of their voices! Some run out the door, some climb out the window, some jump over the fence.

Everyone wants to help. Only one Bad Boy wanted to join the bourgeoisie. But this Bad guy was so cunning that he didn’t say anything to anyone, but pulled up his pants and rushed along with everyone, as if to help.

The boys fight from the dark night to the bright dawn. Only one Bad guy doesn’t fight, but keeps walking and looking for ways to help the bourgeoisie. And Plohish sees that there is a huge pile of boxes lying behind the hill, and black bombs, white shells and yellow cartridges are hidden in those boxes. “Hey,” thought Plohish, “this is what I need.”

And at this time the Chief Bourgeois asks his bourgeois:

Well, bourgeois, have you achieved victory?

No, Chief Bourgeois, the bourgeois answer, we defeated our fathers and brothers, and it was our victory, but Malchish-Kibalchish rushed to their aid, and we still can’t cope with him.

Chief Burzhuin was very surprised and angry then, and he shouted in a menacing voice:

Could it be that they couldn’t cope with Malchish? Oh, you worthless bourgeois cowards! How is it that you can’t break something so small? Download quickly and don't go back without winning.



BOY-KIBALCHISH

BOY-KIBALCHISH is the hero of the fairy tale by A. Gaidar (A.P. Golikov), included in the story “Military Secret” (1935). The fairy tale was first published in April 1933 in the newspaper Pioneer. some truth" under the title "The Tale of the Military Malchish-Kibalchish and His Firm Word."

Gaidar conceives an epic tale about a little boy - M.-K., a man with the soul of a real commander, faithful to his ideals and heroically steadfast in serving them. He places this strange, according to the writer, fairy tale in the context of a story about children vacationing in a pioneer camp on the shores of a warm sea. At the center of the story is baby Alka, who is essentially this M.-K. The Tale of M.-K. - this is “Alkina’s fairy tale”. The girl Natka tells it in the circle of pioneers, interrupting her story from time to time: “Is that right, Alka, is that what I’m telling?” And Alka echoes her every time: “So, Natka, so.”

Gaidar calls the story “Military Secret” and he himself admits that there is no secret at all. This is a tale about the sacrificial feat of a warrior-on-Malchish and a story about a little boy with a pure and courageous heart, whose sacrificial fate is inevitable for the author. It contains a secret that the reader himself must reveal. The image of the boy Alka was conceived by Gaidar as heroic. The inevitability of the child’s death at the hands of a bandit is predetermined by the author at the very beginning of work on the story: “It’s easy for me to write this warm and good story. But no one knows how sorry I am for Alka. How painfully sad I am that he dies in the book’s youth. And I can’t change anything” (Diary, August 12, 1932).

Gaidar’s artistic strength lies primarily in what S.Ya. Marshak defined as “warmth and fidelity of tone, which excite the reader more than any artistic images.” The deceased M.-K. “They were buried on a green hillock near the Blue River. And they put a big red flag over the grave.” In the story, Alka was buried on a high hill above the sea “and a large red flag was placed over the grave.”

There is also an anti-hero in the fairy tale: Malchish-Bad - a coward and a traitor, through whose fault M.-K dies.

Gaidar’s work was motivated by a “defense” order, which required the romanticization of the Red Army. However, willingly or unwillingly, this standard social scheme is imperceptibly broken and the pathos of the fairy tale rises to epic generalizations that interpret the eternal theme of the struggle between good and evil.

Even during his years of study at a real school, Gaidar was fond of reading “Kalevali” and chose “allegory” as the theme of his essay. Gaidar’s own dreams are also allegorical, which he writes down in his diary in the year the fairy tale was created. In the fairy tale there is an image of a horseman who rode three times, raising first warriors and then old people to battle with the enemy. And finally, when there was no one left, M.-K. gathers kids for battle. This triple-appearing horseman may in part evoke apocalyptic associations.

The tale ends with the praise of M.-K., when, in eternal memory of him, passing trains, passing ships and flying airplanes salute him.

Lit.: Dubrovin A. Language “Tales of Military Secrets” by A.P. Gaidar

//Questions of children's literature. M.; L., 1953; Komov B. Gaidar. M., 1979; Paustovsky K. Meetings with Gaidar

//Life and work of Gaidar. M., 1964.

Yu.B. Bolshakova


Literary heroes. - Academician. 2009 .

See what "BOY-KIBALCHISH" is in other dictionaries:

    A.P. Gaidar and the heroes of his works. Malchish Kibalchish on the left Creator ... Wikipedia

    Malchish Plokhish ... Wikipedia

    And hashish. Jarg. school Joking. A. Gaidar's story “Malchish Kibalchish”. BSPYA, 2000...

    Kibalchish- , a, m. // On behalf of one of the heroes of the works of A.P. Gaidar Malchish Kibalchish /. joking Womanizer, lover of caring for women. I am young, 1996, No. 8 ... Explanatory dictionary of the language of the Council of Deputies

    Jarg. school Joking. A. Gaidar's story “Malchish Kibalchish”. BSPYA, 2000... Large dictionary of Russian sayings

    This term has other meanings, see The Tale of Malchish Kibalchish. The Tale of Boy Kibalchish ... Wikipedia

    Appendix to the article Korean Chrysanthemum List of varieties of Korean chrysanthemum (lat. Chrysanthemum ×koreanum) ... Wikipedia

    Seryozha Tikhonov as Malchish Plokhish Date of birth: 1950 Place of birth ... Wikipedia

    Genus. Aug 15 1926 in Tashkent. Composer. In 1951 he graduated from Leningrad. cons. according to class Yu. V. Kochurova (previously studied with V. V. Shcherbachev). Since 1967, teacher in Leningrad. cons. Works: operas Robin Hood (1972), Malchish Kibalchish (based on A. Gaidar, Leningrad, 1972), ... ... Large biographical encyclopedia

    Star Wars: Storm in a Teacup The Phantom Menace Genre fantasy, action, parody Director George Lucas Goblin s ... Wikipedia

Books

  • Small collected works, Gaidar A.. The books of Arkady Gaidar are undoubted classics of our literature. Once addressed to a children's and teenage audience, they have outgrown the reading age for which they were designed and have become...
kolbasin — 02/03/2014 “And everything would be fine, but something is not good. Malchish hears something as if something is rattling or knocking. It seems to Malchish that the wind smells not of flowers from the gardens, not of honey from the meadows, but the wind smells of either smoke from fires, or gunpowder from explosions...”

These words from the fairy tale about Kibalchish, which grew into “Military Secret,” were inspired by the premonition of war with Japan. It was 1932, Arkady Gaidar lived in Khabarovsk.


Montage on the theme. Auto. Alexander Kolbin, 2014

In Khabarovsk, on Kalinin Street, there is a small stone mansion at number 86. This is the old building of the editorial office of the Pacific Star newspaper (TOZ), where Gaidar worked. A small bas-relief of Gaidar, placed as if furtively, an awkwardly embedded memorial plaque.

In the TOZ file for 1932 there are almost two dozen feuilletons and essays signed “Ark. Gaidar." About fishermen, logging, bureaucrats - anything. Although he was already a “star”, the author of the famous “School”...

Having escaped from Moscow, Gaidar unexpectedly found himself in an almost front-line city - an environment familiar and even welcome to him. He again found himself at the forefront, where he had strived since childhood until his last day. The Second World War could have started precisely on the eastern borders of the Union. “Militaristic Japan” was as active here as Hitler’s Germany was in Europe. In the Far East, the memory of the Japanese intervention was fresh, and now Japan occupied Korea, China...

“Khabarovsk has become calmer in recent days.
The talk about the possibility of war has subsided a little.
But it’s still alarming...”

It was in 1932 that the pro-Japanese puppet state of Manchukuo arose on the territory of China adjacent to the USSR. In Vladivostok, the fortress and navy were hastily recreated. Khasan would happen in 1938, Khalkhin Gol - in 1939, but there was already a smell of gunpowder on the border. Gaidar, familiar with gunpowder fumes since adolescence, felt its smell more keenly than many. On May 10, he wrote to his Perm friend Militsyn: “The wind from the Pacific Ocean is blowing very hot.” On May 20 he wrote: “In recent days, Khabarovsk has become calmer. The talk about the possibility of war has subsided a little. But it’s still alarming...” It is these experiences and premonitions that will form the basis of “Military Secrets”.


Manchukuo propaganda poster

Gaidar conceived and began writing the “Military Secret,” on which several generations of Soviet people grew up, in Khabarovsk.

August 1: “Today I send a telegram to Moscow saying that I have finished writing a book and am coming in a month. And just today I’m starting to write this book... It will be a story. And I’ll call it “Malchish-Kibalchish” (second option).

In the first days of August, after another breakdown, Gaidar ended up in a psychiatric hospital on Serysheva Street. I spent about a month there. I asked my colleagues to bring notebooks - and I worked.

At the turn of the summer and autumn of 1932, Gaidar was discharged from the hospital and immediately went to Moscow. “...I will come to Moscow not the same as when I left. Stronger, firmer and calmer... I’m no longer afraid of Moscow,” he wrote on the eve of his departure.

“Military Secret” had already been thought out and partially written by that time, but Gaidar was extremely demanding of himself - he crossed out, abandoned, and started again... The story will be completed only in 1934 and will be published in 1935.


The Tale of Malchish-Kibalchish is a 1964 children's full-length feature film directed by Evgeniy Sherstobitov.

The Khabarovsk regional mental hospital is located on Serysheva, 33. This is an old red brick building, two steps away from Gaidar Street (the author of the original text is mistaken, Gaidar Street is in a different place - near Gaidar Park. - Note from the author of the repost). The fence is still high, although clearly of a later date. I look at the barred windows and wonder which one of them was behind which 28-year-old Gaidar “swung his license” and wrote “Kibalchisha.” The “violent ones” once stole a notebook hidden under the mattress from him for a cigarette - good thing, it was clean and not covered with writing...

But let’s return to our Malchish-Kibalchish from the psychiatric hospital. Although he was born in Khabarovsk, there is no memory of this.

By the way, a good name for some establishment is “Malchish-Kibalchish”. You can also use another character (who, presumably, was in the same room with Kibalchish) - the bar “Malchish-Bad Boy”. I would go.-)

Well, no one has used the chic name Gaidar Bar yet either.

Meanwhile in Izhevsk:


Murals by Oleg Sannikov Boris Busorgin, 2008



Murals by Oleg Sannikov in the cafe-museum “Malchish Kibalchish”, Izhevsk. Photo: Boris Busorgin, 2008


On May 19, 1972, on the day of the 50th anniversary of the Pioneer movement, a monument to the character was unveiled at the main entrance to the Moscow Palace of Pioneers on the Lenin Hills. The 5 m high monument, made of forged copper and installed on a pedestal of granite slabs, depicts Malchish, wearing a Budenovka and barefoot, with a saber and a bugle in his hands, preparing to take a step forward. The sculptor of the monument is V.K. Frolov, the architect is Vladimir Stepanovich Kubasov.

Well, and finally, the song of the Civil Defense based on the fairy tale about Kibalchish:

The ships are sailing - hello to Malchish!
The pilots are flying by - hello to Malchish!
Steam locomotives will run by - hello to Malchish!
And the Khabarovsk residents will pass...

Main source of text: Vasily Avchenko http://svpressa.ru/culture/article/80113/
Most photos: Alexander Kolbin, 2008-2014

I forgot to mention the Gaidar Children's Library. It is located in Khabarovsk at house 9 on Leningradsky Lane.

The Arkady Gaidar Central City Children's Library is one of the oldest libraries not only in the city, but also in the region.

On October 22, 1928, a children's library was created in the city, which received its first name - “In honor of the 10th anniversary of the Komsomol”.

Initially, the library occupied a small room, the children were served by one librarian, and the library’s book collection numbered 2,000 books. The name of the children's writer Arkady Gaidar was given to the institution in 1951.

In 1958, for the 30th anniversary of the library, activist readers planted in the nursery. Lukashova alley of fruit trees and named it after A. Gaidar.

A memorable event was the meeting in 1957 of library readers with the son of A.P. Gaidar, Timur Arkadyevich Gaidar.

In 1978, after the formation of the city system of children's libraries, the library named after. A. Gaidar became the administrative and methodological center for 11 of its branches. The system's library collection consists of more than 310 thousand documents, the electronic catalog contains about 45 thousand records.

In those distant, distant years, when the war had just died down throughout the country, there lived Malchish-Kibalchish.

At that time, the Red Army drove far away the white troops of the damned bourgeoisie, and everything became quiet in those wide fields, in the green meadows, where rye grew, where buckwheat blossomed, where among the dense gardens and cherry bushes stood the little house in which Malchish, nicknamed Kibalchish, lived. , yes, Malchish’s father, and Malchish’s older brother, but they didn’t have a mother.

Father works - mows hay. My brother works, hauling hay. And Malchish himself either helps his father or his brother, or simply jumps and plays around with other boys.

Hop!.. Hop!.. Good! Bullets don't screech, shells don't crash, villages don't burn. You don’t have to lie down on the floor from bullets, you don’t have to hide in cellars from shells, you don’t have to run into the forest from fires. There is nothing to be afraid of the bourgeoisie. There is no one to bow to. Live and work - a good life!

Then one day, towards evening, Malchish-Kibalchish came out onto the porch. He looks - the sky is clear, the wind is warm, the sun is setting behind the Black Mountains at night. And everything would be fine, but something is not good. Malchish hears something as if something is rattling or knocking. It seems to the boy that the wind smells not of flowers from the gardens, not of honey from the meadows, but the wind smells of either smoke from fires, or gunpowder from explosions. He told his father, and his father came tired.

What you? - he says to Malchish. - These are distant thunderstorms thundering behind the Black Mountains. These are the shepherds smoking fires across the Blue River, grazing their flocks and cooking dinner. Go, Boy, and sleep well.

Malchish left. Went to sleep. But he can’t sleep—well, he just can’t fall asleep.

Suddenly he hears stomping on the street and knocking at the windows. Malchish-Kibalchish looked, and he saw: a horseman standing at the window. The horse is black, the saber is light, the hat is gray, and the star is red.

Hey, get up! - the rider shouted. - Trouble came from where we didn’t expect it. The damned bourgeois attacked us from behind the Black Mountains. Again bullets are whistling, again shells are exploding. Our troops are fighting the bourgeoisie, and messengers are rushing to call for help from the distant Red Army.

So the red-star horseman said these alarming words and rushed away. And Malchish’s father went to the wall, took off his rifle, threw in his bag and put on his bandoleer.

Well,” he says to his eldest son, “I sowed rye thickly - apparently you’ll have a lot to harvest.” Well,” he says to Malchish, “I’ve lived a great life, and apparently you, Malchish, will have to live peacefully for me.”

So he said, kissed Malchish deeply and left. And he didn’t have time to kiss much, because now everyone could see and hear the explosions buzzing across the meadows and the dawns burning behind the mountains from the glow of smoky fires...

A day passes, two days pass. Malchish will come out onto the porch: no... there’s no sign of the Red Army yet. Malchish will climb onto the roof. He doesn't get off the roof all day. No, I don't see it. He went to bed at night. Suddenly he hears stomping on the street and a knock at the window. Malchish looked out: the same horseman was standing at the window. Only a thin and tired horse, only a bent, dark saber, only a bullet-ridden hat, a cut star, and a bandaged head.

Hey, get up! - the rider shouted. - It was not so bad, but now there’s trouble all around. There are many bourgeois, but few of us. There are clouds of bullets in the field, thousands of shells hitting the squads. Hey, get up, let's help!

Then the elder brother stood up and said to Malchish:

Goodbye, Malchish... You are left alone... Cabbage soup in the cauldron, a loaf on the table, water in the keys, and your head on your shoulders... Live as best you can, but don’t wait for me.

A day passes, two days pass. Malchish sits by the chimney on the roof, and Malchish sees an unfamiliar horseman galloping from afar.

The rider galloped to Malchish, jumped off his horse and said:

Give me, good Boy, some water to drink. I didn’t drink for three days, didn’t sleep for three nights, drove three horses. The Red Army learned about our misfortune. The trumpeters sounded all the signal pipes. The drummers beat all the loud drums. The standard bearers unfurled all their battle flags. The entire Red Army rushes and gallops to the rescue. If only we, Malchish, could hold out until tomorrow night.

The boy got down from the roof and brought him something to drink. The messenger got drunk and rode on.

Then evening comes, and Malchish goes to bed. But the boy can’t sleep - well, what kind of sleep is that?

Suddenly he hears footsteps on the street and a rustling at the window. Malchish looked and saw: the same man standing at the window. That one, but not that one: and there is no horse - the horse is missing, and there is no saber - the saber is broken, and there is no hat - the hat has flown off, and he himself is standing - staggering.

Hey, get up! - he shouted for the last time. - And there are shells, but the arrows are broken. And there are rifles, but there are few fighters. And help is close, but there is no strength. Hey, get up, who's still left! If only we could stand the night and hold out for the day.

Malchish-Kibalchish looked into the street: an empty street. The shutters don't slam, the gates don't creak - there's no one to get up. And the fathers left, and the brothers left - there was no one left.

Only Malchish sees that an old grandfather of a hundred years old came out of the gate. Grandfather wanted to lift the rifle, but he was so old that he couldn’t lift it. Grandfather wanted to attach the saber, but he was so weak that he couldn’t attach it. Then the grandfather sat down on the rubble, lowered his head and began to cry.

Then Malchish felt pain. Then Malchish-Kibalchish jumped out into the street and shouted loudly:

Hey, you boys, little boys! Or should we boys just play with sticks and jump ropes? And the fathers left, and the brothers left. Or should we, boys, sit and wait for the bourgeoisie to come and take us into their damned bourgeoisie?

How the little boys heard such words, how they screamed at the top of their voices! Some run out the door, some climb out the window, some jump over the fence.

Everyone wants to help. Only one Bad Boy wanted to join the bourgeoisie. But this Bad guy was so cunning that he didn’t say anything to anyone, but pulled up his pants and rushed along with everyone, as if to help.

The boys fight from the dark night to the bright dawn. Only one Bad guy doesn’t fight, but keeps walking and looking for ways to help the bourgeoisie. And Plohish sees that there is a huge pile of boxes lying behind the hill, and black bombs, white shells and yellow cartridges are hidden in those boxes. “Hey,” thought Plohish, this is what I need.”

And at this time the Chief Bourgeois asks his bourgeois:

Well, bourgeois, have you achieved victory?

No, Chief Bourgeois, the bourgeois answer, we defeated our fathers and brothers, and it was our victory, but Malchish-Kibalchish rushed to their aid, and we still can’t cope with him.

Chief Burzhuin was very surprised and angry then, and he shouted in a menacing voice:

Could it be that they couldn’t cope with Malchish? Oh, you worthless bourgeois cowards! How is it that you can’t break something so small? Download quickly and don't go back without winning.

So the bourgeoisie sit and think: what can they do? Suddenly they see: Bad Boy crawling out from behind the bushes and straight towards them.

Rejoice! - he shouts to them. - I did it all, Bad Guy. I chopped wood, I hauled hay, and I lit all the boxes with black bombs, white shells and yellow cartridges. It's about to explode!

The bourgeoisie were delighted then, they quickly signed Bad Boy into their bourgeoisie and gave him a whole barrel of jam and a whole basket of cookies.

Bad Boy sits, eats and rejoices.

Suddenly the lit boxes exploded! And it thundered as if thousands of thunder struck in one place and thousands of lightning flashed from one cloud.

Treason! - Malchish-Kibalchish shouted.

Treason! - all his faithful boys shouted.

But then, because of the smoke and fire, a bourgeois force swooped in and grabbed and tied up Malchish-Kibalchish.

They chained Malchish in heavy chains. They put Malchish in a stone tower. And they rushed to ask: what will the Chief Burzhuin now order to do with the captive Malchish?

The Chief Burzhuin thought for a long time, and then came up with an idea and said:

We will destroy this Malchish. But let him first tell us all their Military Secrets. You go, bourgeois, and ask him:

Why, Malchish, did the Forty Kings and Forty Kings fight with the Red Army, fight and fight, only to be defeated themselves?

Why, Malchish, are all the prisons full, and all the penal servitudes are packed, and all the gendarmes are on the corners, and all the troops are on their feet, but we have no peace either on a bright day or on a dark night?

Why, Malchish, damned Kibalchish, and in my High Bourgeoisie, and in another - the Plain Kingdom, and in the third - the Snowy Kingdom, and in the fourth - the Sultry State on the same day in early spring and on the same day in late autumn on different languages, but they sing the same songs, in different hands, but they carry the same banners, they say the same speeches, they think the same things and do the same things?

You ask, bourgeois:

Doesn't the Red Army have a military secret, Malchish?

And let him tell the secret.

Do our workers have outside help?

And let him tell you where the help comes from.

Isn’t there, Malchish, a secret passage from your country to all other countries, on which, as they click on you, they will respond to us, as they sing to you, so they will pick up from us, what they say from you, they will think about it here?

The bourgeoisie left, but soon returned:

No, Chief Burzhuin, Malchish-Kibalchish did not reveal to us the Military Secret. He laughed in our faces.

There is, he says, a mighty secret for the strong Red Army. And no matter when you attack, there will be no victory for you.

There is, he says, innumerable help, and no matter how much you throw into prison, you still won’t throw it in, and you will have no peace either on a bright day or on a dark night.

There are, he says, deep secret passages. But no matter how much you search, you still won’t find it. And if they found it, don’t fill it up, don’t lay it down, don’t fill it up. And I won’t tell you, the bourgeoisie, anything more, and you, the damned ones, will never guess.

Then the Chief Burzhuin frowned and said:

So, bourgeois, give this secretive Malchish-Kibalchish the most terrible Torment that there is in the world, and extract from him the Military Secret, because we will have neither life nor peace without this important Secret.

The bourgeoisie left, but now they will not return soon.

They walk and shake their heads.

No, they say, our boss is Chief Burzhuin. He stood pale, Boy, but proud, and he did not tell us the Military Secret, because he had such a firm word. And when we were leaving, he sank to the floor, put his ear to the heavy stone of the cold floor, and would you believe it, O Chief Bourgeois, he smiled so that we, the bourgeois, shuddered, and we were afraid that he had heard, How does our inevitable death walk through secret passages?..

What country is it? - the surprised Chief Burzhuin then exclaimed. What kind of incomprehensible country is this, in which even such little children know the Military Secret and keep their firm word so tightly? Hurry up, bourgeois, and destroy this proud Malchish. Load the cannons, take out your sabers, open our bourgeois banners, because I hear our signalmen sounding the alarm and our wavers waving their flags. Apparently, we will now have not an easy battle, but a difficult battle.

And Malchish-Kibalchish died...

But... did you guys see the storm? Just like thunder, the military weapons thundered. Fiery explosions flashed just like lightning. Just like the winds, horse detachments rushed in, and just like the clouds, red banners flew by. This is how the Red Army advanced.

Have you ever seen torrential thunderstorms in a dry and hot summer? Just as streams, running down from the dusty mountains, merged into stormy, foamy streams, so at the first roar of war, uprisings began to bubble up in the Mountain Bourgeoisie, and thousands of angry voices responded from the Plain Kingdom, and from the Snowy Kingdom, and from the Sultry State .

And the defeated Chief Burzhuin fled in fear, loudly cursing this country with its amazing people, with its invincible army and with its unsolved Military Mystery.

And Malchish-Kibalchish was buried on a green hillock near the Blue River. And they placed a big red flag over the grave.

The ships are sailing - hello to Malchish!

The pilots are flying by - hello to Malchish!

Steam locomotives will run by - hello to Malchish!

And the pioneers will pass - salute to Malchish!

I know I know! Now you will say that this fairy tale, which was written by Arkady Gaidar, is not called

Yes, its full name is different. But admit it, you yourself remember this difficult text by heart with all the details: “A tale about a military secret, Malchisha-Kibalchisha and his firm word”?

If you say “Yes” now, then I congratulate you! You have an excellent memory, which, unfortunately, most adults do not have. For example, I didn’t remember.

But in the end, the content of the tale about Malchish Kibalchish is much more important than the title.

Just think: 100 years have passed!!! ONE HUNDRED!!!

And there is no such country anymore. And we now perceive many things completely differently. And there are many moments that one would not want to read in the fairy tale about Malchish Kibalchish.

But despite all this, the fairy tale about the brave Kibalchish lives on. And still, with bated breath, the kids wait for the end of Kibalchish’s fight with the bad guys.

It doesn't matter what their name is. It is important that they are against our Malchish. And we are still sad when Malchish Kibalchish dies. Children have been reading this fairy tale for 100 years. Despite the political system and beliefs. They believe, they worry, they are sad. And for some reason it seems to me that you, like me, without any fear that they won’t understand something, will read about the brave Malchish Kibalchish to your children. Otherwise, why are you here? 🙂

Arkady Gaidar

“A Tale about a Military Secret, Malchisha-Kibalchisha and His Firm Word”

Tell me a fairy tale, Natka,” asked the blue-eyed girl and smiled guiltily.

A fairy tale? - Natka thought. - I don’t know any fairy tales. Or not... I'll tell you Alka's tale. Can? - she asked the wary Alka.

“You can,” Alka allowed, looking proudly at the silent October students.

I will tell Alkin a fairy tale in my own words. And if I forgot something or said something wrong, then let him correct me. Well, listen!

“In those distant, distant years, when the war had just died down throughout the country, there lived Malchish-Kibalchish.

At that time, the Red Army drove far away the white troops of the damned bourgeoisie, and everything became quiet in those wide fields, in the green meadows, where rye grew, where buckwheat blossomed, where among the dense gardens and cherry bushes stood the little house in which Malchish, nicknamed Kibalchish, lived. , yes, Malchish’s father, and Malchish’s older brother, but they didn’t have a mother.

Father works - mows hay. My brother works, hauling hay. And Malchish himself either helps his father or his brother, or simply jumps and plays around with other boys.

Hop!.. Hop!.. Good! Bullets don't screech, shells don't crash, villages don't burn. You don’t have to lie down on the floor from bullets, you don’t have to hide in cellars from shells, you don’t have to run into the forest from fires. There is nothing to be afraid of the bourgeoisie. There is no one to bow to. Live and work - a good life!

Then one day, towards evening, Malchish-Kibalchish came out onto the porch. He looks - the sky is clear, the wind is warm, the sun is setting behind the Black Mountains at night. And everything would be fine, but something is not good. Malchish hears something as if something is rattling or knocking. It seems to the boy that the wind smells not of flowers from the gardens, not of honey from the meadows, but the wind smells of either smoke from fires, or gunpowder from explosions. He told his father, and his father came tired.

What you? - he says to Malchish. - These are distant thunderstorms thundering behind the Black Mountains. These are the shepherds smoking fires across the Blue River, grazing their flocks and cooking dinner. Go, Boy, and sleep well.

Malchish left. Went to sleep. But he can’t sleep—well, he just can’t fall asleep.

Suddenly he hears stomping on the street and knocking at the windows. Malchish-Kibalchish looked, and he saw: a horseman standing at the window. The horse is black, the saber is light, the hat is gray, and the star is red.

Hey, get up! - the rider shouted. - Trouble came from where we didn’t expect it. The damned bourgeois attacked us from behind the Black Mountains. Again bullets are whistling, again shells are exploding. Our troops are fighting the bourgeoisie, and messengers are rushing to call for help from the distant Red Army.

So the red-star horseman said these alarming words and rushed away. And Malchish’s father went to the wall, took off his rifle, threw in his bag and put on his bandoleer.

Well,” he says to his eldest son, “I sowed rye thickly - apparently you’ll have a lot to harvest.” Well,” he says to Malchish, “I’ve lived a great life, and apparently you, Malchish, will have to live peacefully for me.”

So he said, kissed Malchish deeply and left. And he didn’t have time to kiss much, because now everyone could see and hear the explosions buzzing across the meadows and the dawns burning behind the mountains from the glow of smoky fires...”

Is that what I say, Alka? - Natka asked, looking around at the quiet guys.

So... so, Natka,” Alka answered quietly and put his hand on her tanned shoulder.

- “Well... A day passes, two days pass. Malchish will come out onto the porch: no... there’s no sign of the Red Army yet. Malchish will climb onto the roof. He doesn't get off the roof all day. No, I don't see it. He went to bed at night. Suddenly he hears stomping on the street and a knock at the window. Malchish looked out: the same horseman was standing at the window. Only a thin and tired horse, only a bent, dark saber, only a bullet-ridden hat, a cut star, and a bandaged head.

Hey, get up! - the rider shouted. - It was not so bad, but now there’s trouble all around. There are many bourgeois, but few of us. There are clouds of bullets in the field, thousands of shells hitting the squads. Hey, get up, let's help!

Then the elder brother stood up and said to Malchish:

Goodbye, Malchish... You are left alone... Cabbage soup in the cauldron, a loaf on the table, water in the keys, and your head on your shoulders... Live as best you can, but don’t wait for me.

A day passes, two days pass. Malchish sits by the chimney on the roof, and Malchish sees an unfamiliar horseman galloping from afar.

The rider galloped to Malchish, jumped off his horse and said:

Give me, good Boy, some water to drink. I didn’t drink for three days, didn’t sleep for three nights, drove three horses. The Red Army learned about our misfortune. The trumpeters sounded all the signal pipes. The drummers beat all the loud drums. The standard bearers unfurled all their battle flags. The entire Red Army rushes and gallops to the rescue. If only we, Malchish, could hold out until tomorrow night.

The boy got down from the roof and brought him something to drink. The messenger got drunk and rode on.

Then evening comes, and Malchish goes to bed. But the boy can’t sleep - well, what kind of sleep is that?

Suddenly he hears footsteps on the street and a rustling at the window. Malchish looked and saw: the same man standing at the window. That one, but not that one: and there is no horse - the horse is missing, and there is no saber - the saber is broken, and there is no hat - the hat has flown off, and he himself is standing - staggering.

Hey, get up! - he shouted for the last time. - And there are shells, but the arrows are broken. And there are rifles, but there are few fighters. And help is close, but there is no strength. Hey, get up, who's still left! If only we could stand the night and hold out for the day.

Malchish-Kibalchish looked into the street: an empty street. The shutters don't slam, the gates don't creak - there's no one to get up. And the fathers left, and the brothers left - there was no one left.

Only Malchish sees that an old grandfather of a hundred years old came out of the gate. Grandfather wanted to lift the rifle, but he was so old that he couldn’t lift it. Grandfather wanted to attach the saber, but he was so weak that he couldn’t attach it. Then the grandfather sat down on the rubble, lowered his head and cried...

Is that what I say, Alka? - Natka asked to catch her breath and looked around.

It was not only the October students who listened to this Alka fairy tale. Who knows when, Ioskino’s entire pioneer unit silently crawled up. And even the Bashkir Emine, who barely understood Russian, sat thoughtful and serene. Even the mischievous Vladik, who was lying at a distance, pretending that he was not listening, was actually listening, because he was lying quietly, not talking to anyone and not offending anyone.

Yes, Natka, yes... Even better than this,” Alka answered, moving even closer to her.

- “Well... The old grandfather sat down on the rubble, lowered his head and cried.

Then Malchish felt pain. Then Malchish-Kibalchish jumped out into the street and shouted loudly:

Hey, you boys, little boys! Or should we boys just play with sticks and jump ropes? And the fathers left, and the brothers left. Or should we, boys, sit and wait for the bourgeoisie to come and take us into their damned bourgeoisie?

How the little boys heard such words, how they screamed at the top of their voices! Some run out the door, some climb out the window, some jump over the fence.

Everyone wants to help. Only one Bad Boy wanted to join the bourgeoisie. But this Bad guy was so cunning that he didn’t say anything to anyone, but pulled up his pants and rushed along with everyone, as if to help.

The boys fight from the dark night to the bright dawn. Only one Bad guy doesn’t fight, but keeps walking and looking for ways to help the bourgeoisie. And Plohish sees that there is a huge pile of boxes lying behind the hill, and black bombs, white shells and yellow cartridges are hidden in those boxes. “Hey,” thought Plohish, “this is what I need.”

And at this time the Chief Bourgeois asks his bourgeois:

Well, bourgeois, have you achieved victory?

No, Chief Bourgeois, the bourgeois answer, we defeated our fathers and brothers, and it was our victory, but Malchish-Kibalchish rushed to their aid, and we still can’t cope with him.

Chief Burzhuin was very surprised and angry then, and he shouted in a menacing voice:

Could it be that they couldn’t cope with Malchish? Oh, you worthless bourgeois cowards! How is it that you can’t break something so small? Download quickly and don't go back without winning.

So the bourgeoisie sit and think: what can they do? Suddenly they see: Bad Boy crawling out from behind the bushes and straight towards them.

Rejoice! - he shouts to them. - I did it all, Bad Guy. I chopped wood, I hauled hay, and I lit all the boxes with black bombs, white shells and yellow cartridges. It's about to explode!

The bourgeoisie were delighted then, they quickly signed Bad Boy into their bourgeoisie and gave him a whole barrel of jam and a whole basket of cookies.

Bad Boy sits, eats and rejoices.

Suddenly the lit boxes exploded! And it thundered as if thousands of thunder struck in one place and thousands of lightning flashed from one cloud.

Treason! - Malchish-Kibalchish shouted.

Treason! - all his faithful boys shouted.

But then, because of the smoke and fire, a bourgeois force swooped in and grabbed and tied up Malchish-Kibalchish.

They chained Malchish in heavy chains. They put Malchish in a stone tower. And they rushed to ask: what will the Chief Burzhuin now order to do with the captive Malchish?

The Chief Burzhuin thought for a long time, and then came up with an idea and said:

We will destroy this Malchish. But let him first tell us all their Military Secrets. You go, bourgeois, and ask him:

Why, Malchish, did the Forty Kings and Forty Kings fight with the Red Army, fight and fight, only to be defeated themselves?

Why, Malchish, are all the prisons full, and all the penal servitudes are packed, and all the gendarmes are on the corners, and all the troops are on their feet, but we have no peace either on a bright day or on a dark night?

Why, Malchish, damned Kibalchish, and in my High Bourgeoisie, and in another - the Plain Kingdom, and in the third - the Snowy Kingdom, and in the fourth - the Sultry State on the same day in early spring and on the same day in late autumn on different languages, but they sing the same songs, in different hands, but they carry the same banners, they say the same speeches, they think the same things and do the same things?

You ask, bourgeois:

Doesn't the Red Army have a military secret, Malchish? Let him tell the secret.

Do our workers have outside help? And let him tell you where the help comes from.

Isn’t there, Malchish, a secret passage from your country to all other countries, on which, as they click on you, they will respond to us, as they sing to you, so they will pick up from us, what they say from you, they will think about it here?

The bourgeoisie left, but soon returned:

No, Chief Burzhuin, Malchish-Kibalchish did not reveal to us the Military Secret. He laughed in our faces.

There is, he says, a mighty secret for the strong Red Army. And no matter when you attack, there will be no victory for you.

There is, he says, innumerable help, and no matter how much you throw into prison, you still won’t throw it in, and you will have no peace either on a bright day or on a dark night.

There are, he says, deep secret passages. But no matter how much you search, you still won’t find it. And if they found it, don’t fill it up, don’t lay it down, don’t fill it up. And I won’t tell you, the bourgeoisie, anything more, and you, the damned ones, will never guess.

Then the Chief Burzhuin frowned and said:

So, bourgeois, give this secretive Malchish-Kibalchish the most terrible Torment that there is in the world, and extract from him the Military Secret, because we will have neither life nor peace without this important Secret.

The bourgeoisie left, but now they will not return soon. They walk and shake their heads.

No, they say, our boss is Chief Burzhuin. He stood pale, Boy, but proud, and he did not tell us the Military Secret, because he had such a firm word. And when we were leaving, he sank to the floor, put his ear to the heavy stone of the cold floor, and would you believe it, O Chief Bourgeois, he smiled so that we, the bourgeois, shuddered, and we were afraid that he had heard, How does our inevitable death walk through secret passages?..

This is not secret... this is the Red Army galloping! - Karasikov, who couldn’t bear it, shouted enthusiastically.

And he waved his hand with an imaginary saber so militantly that the same girl who, just recently, jumping on one leg and fearlessly teasing him “Karasik-rugasik,” looked at him displeasedly and, just in case, moved away.

Here Natka interrupted the story, because the signal for dinner was heard from afar.

“Prove it,” Alka said commandingly, looking angrily into her face.

“Prove it,” the flushed Ioska said convincingly. - We will quickly line up for this.

Natka looked around: none of the children got up. She saw many, many children's heads - blond, dark, chestnut, golden. Eyes looked at her from everywhere: large, brown, like Alka’s; clear, cornflower blue, like the blue-eyed one who asked for a fairy tale; narrow, black, like Emine's. And many, many other eyes - usually cheerful and mischievous, but now thoughtful and serious.

Okay, guys, I'll finish it.

“...And we became afraid, Chief Burzhuin, that he had heard our inevitable death walking through the secret passages?..

What country is it? - the surprised Chief Burzhuin then exclaimed. - What kind of incomprehensible country is this, in which even such little children know the Military Secret and keep their firm word so tightly? Hurry up, bourgeois, and destroy this proud Malchish. Load the cannons, take out your sabers, open our bourgeois banners, because I hear our signalmen sounding the alarm and our wavers waving their flags. Apparently, we will now have not an easy battle, but a difficult battle.

And Malchish-Kibalchish died...” said Natka.

At these unexpected words, the October boy Karasikov’s face suddenly became sad and confused, and he no longer waved his hand. The blue-eyed girl frowned, and Ioska’s freckled face became angry, as if he had just been deceived or offended. The guys stirred and whispered, and only Alka, who already knew this fairy tale, sat quietly.

- “But... did you guys see the storm? Just like thunder, the military weapons thundered. Fiery explosions flashed just like lightning. Just like the winds, horse detachments rushed in, and just like the clouds, red banners flew by. This is how the Red Army advanced.

Have you ever seen torrential thunderstorms in a dry and hot summer? Just as streams, running down from the dusty mountains, merged into stormy, foamy streams, so at the first roar of war, uprisings began to bubble up in the Mountain Bourgeoisie, and thousands of angry voices responded from the Plain Kingdom, and from the Snowy Kingdom, and from the Sultry State .

And the defeated Chief Burzhuin fled in fear, loudly cursing this country with its amazing people, with its invincible army and with its unsolved Military Mystery.

And Malchish-Kibalchish was buried on a green hillock near the Blue River. And they placed a big red flag over the grave.

The ships are sailing - hello to Malchish!

The pilots are flying by - hello to Malchish!

Steam locomotives will run by - hello to Malchish!

And the pioneers will pass - salute to Malchish!

That's the whole fairy tale for you guys.