The wise minnow is complete. Fairy tale the wise gudgeon - saltykov-shchedrin

Once upon a time there was a squeaker. Both his father and mother were smart; Little by little, little by little, the Aridian eyelids lived in the river and did not hit the hailo either in the ear or in the pike. And they ordered the same for my son. "Look, sonny," said the old squeaker, dying, "if you want to chew on life, then keep your eyes open!"

And the young squeaker had a ward. He began to scatter with this mind and sees: wherever he turns, everywhere he is mate. All around, in the water, all the big fish swim, and he is the smallest; any fish can swallow him, but he cannot swallow anyone. And he doesn't understand: why swallow? A cancer can cut it in half with its claw, a water flea can dig into its ridge and torture it to death. Even his brother is a squeaker - and when he sees that he has caught a mosquito, they will rush to take away a whole herd. They will take it away and begin to fight with each other, but they will only ruffle the mosquito for free.

And the man? - what a malicious creature is this! what tricks he has invented, so that he, squeaker, in vain death to ruin! And seine, and nets, and traps, and noreth, and finally ... huh! It seems that there could be more stupid than an ouda? - A thread, a hook on a thread, a worm or a fly on the hook ... And how are they worn? ... in the most, one might say, unnatural position! And meanwhile, it is on the whisk that the most squeaky is caught!

The old father warned him more than once about uda. “Most of all, beware of the ouds! - he said. - Because, although it is the stupidest shell, but with us, squeakers, what is stupider is more correct. They will throw us a fly, as if they want to nip us; you cling to it - but death is in the fly! "

The old man also told how he once missed the ear just a little. At that time, they were caught by a whole artel, they stretched a net across the entire width of the river, and so they dragged them about two miles along the bottom and dragged them. Passion, how many fish then caught! And pikes, and perches, and bigheads, and roach, and loaches - they even lifted the slobber bream from the mud from the bottom! And they lost count to the piscars. And what fears he, the old squeaker, endured, while he was dragged along the river - it is neither in a fairy tale to tell, nor to describe with a pen. Feels that he is being taken, but does not know where. He sees that he has a pike on one side, a perch on the other; thinks: just about now, either one or the other will eat him, but they - do not touch ... "At that time it was not time to eat, brother, it was!" Everyone has one thing in their minds: death has come! and how and why she came - no one understands. Finally, they began to lower the wings of the seine, dragged it to the shore and began to cut the fish from the net into the grass. It was then that he learned what an ear is. Something red flutters in the sand; gray clouds run upwards from him; and the heat is such that he immediately crushed. And without that it’s sickening without water, but here they still give in ... He hears - "fire", they say. And on the "fire" on this black something is laid, and there is water in it, as if in a lake, during a storm, shaking. This is the "cauldron", they say. And in the end they began to say: put the fish in the "pot" - there will be "ear"! And they began to blame our brother there. The fisherman will crackle a fish - it will first plunge, then, like a madman, jump out, then plunge again - and calm down. "Ears", then, tasted. They felled and felled at first indiscriminately, and then one old man looked at him and said: “What a use from him, from a baby, to fish soup! let it grow in the river! " He took him under the gills, and let him into free water. And he, do not be stupid, at full blades - home! He came running, and his piskarikha peeps out of his hole neither alive nor dead ...

Once upon a time there was a squeaker. Both his father and mother were smart; Little by little, little by little, the Aridian eyelids lived in the river and did not get into the hailo either in the ear or in the pike. And they ordered the same for my son. "Look, sonny," said the old squeaker, dying, "if you want to chew on life, then keep your eyes open!"

And the young squeaker had a ward. He began to scatter with this mind and sees: wherever he turns, everywhere he is mate. All around, in the water, all the big fish swim, and he is the smallest; any fish can swallow him, but he cannot swallow anyone. And he doesn't understand: why swallow? A cancer can cut it in half with its claw, a water flea can dig into its ridge and torture it to death. Even his brother is a squeaker - and when he sees that he has caught a mosquito, they will rush to take away a whole herd. They will take it away and begin to fight with each other, but they will only ruffle the mosquito for free.

And the man? - what a malicious creature is this! what tricks he has invented, so that he, squeaker, in vain death to ruin! And seine, and nets, and traps, and noreth, and, finally ... It seems that there could be more stupid than an ouda? - A thread, a hook on a thread, a worm or a fly on the hook ... And how are they worn? .. in the most, one might say, unnatural position! And meanwhile, it is on the oudu that the most squeaky is caught!

The old father warned him more than once about uda. "Most of all, beware of the ouds!" something death! "

The old man also told how he once missed the ear just a little. At that time, they were caught by a whole artel, they stretched a net across the entire width of the river, and so they dragged them about two miles along the bottom and dragged them. Passion, how many fish then caught! And pikes, and perches, and bigheads, and roach, and loaches - they even lifted the slobber bream from the mud from the bottom! And they lost count to the piscars. And what fears he, the old squeaker, endured, while he was being dragged along the river - it is neither in a fairy tale to say, nor to describe with a pen. Feels that he is being taken, but does not know where. He sees that he has a pike on one side, a perch on the other; thinks: just about, now, either one or the other will eat him, but they - do not touch ... "At that time, there was no time for food, brother!" Everyone has one thing on their mind: death has come! and how and why she came - no one understands. Finally, they began to lower the wings of the seine, dragged it to the shore and began to cut the fish from the net into the grass. It was then that he learned what an ear is. Something red flutters in the sand; gray clouds run upwards from him; and the heat is such that he immediately crushed. And without that it’s sickening without water, but here they still give in ... He hears - "fire", they say. And on the "fire" on this black something is laid, and there is water in it, as if in a lake, during a storm, shaking. This is the "cauldron", they say. And in the end they began to say: get the fish into the "pot" - there will be "ear"! And they began to blame our brother there. The fisherman will crackle the fish - it will first plunge, then, like a madman, jump out, then plunge again - and calm down. "Ears", then, tasted. They felled and felled at first indiscriminately, and then one old man looked at him and said: "What good from him, from a baby, to fish soup! Let it grow in the river!" He took him under the gills, and let him into free water. And he, do not be stupid, at full blades - home! He came running, and his piskarikha peeps out of his hole neither alive nor dead ...

And what! No matter how much the old man interpreted at that time what an ear is and what it consists of, however, even ascend in the river, rarely does anyone have a sound idea of ​​an ear!

But he, the son of a squeaker, perfectly remembered the teachings of the squeaker-father, and he wound himself on a mustache. He was an enlightened, moderately liberal squeaker, and he understood very firmly that living life is not like licking a whorl. "You have to live in such a way that no one will notice," he said to himself, "otherwise you will just disappear!" - and began to get settled. First of all, I came up with such a hole for myself, so that he could get into it, and no one else could get in! He pounded this hole with his nose for a whole year, and how much fear he took at that time, sleeping in the silt, now under a water burdock, now in sedge. Finally, however, he hollowed out wonderfully. Clean, tidy - only one fits just right. Secondly, about his life, he decided this: at night, when people, animals, birds and fish are asleep, he will exercise, and during the day, he will sit in a hole and tremble. But since you still need to drink and eat, and he does not receive a salary and does not keep a servant, he will run out of the hole at about noon, when all the fish are already full, and, God willing, maybe a booger or two and will hunt. And if he does not provide, then the hungry man will lie down in the hole and tremble again. For it is better not to eat or drink than to lose life with a full stomach.

And so he did. At night he did exercise, bathed in the moonlight, and during the day climbed into a hole and trembled. Only at noon will he run out to grab something - but what can you do at noon! At this time, the mosquito hides under the leaf from the heat, and the insect is buried under the bark. Swallows water - and the Sabbath!

He lies day-and-day in a hole, does not get enough sleep at night, does not eat up a piece, and still thinks: "It seems that I am alive? Ah, will there be something tomorrow?"

Doze off, a sinful deed, and in a dream he dreams that he has a winning ticket and he won two hundred thousand for it. Not remembering himself with delight, he would turn over on the other side - lo and behold, he had a whole half-wing protruding from the hole ... What if at that time the puppy was nearby! after all, he would have pulled him out of the hole!

One day he woke up and saw: there was a cancer right in front of his hole. Stands motionless, as if bewitched, goggling bony eyes at him. Only the whiskers move with the flow of water. That's when he got scared! And for half a day, until it got completely dark, this cancer was waiting for him, and meanwhile he was trembling all the time, all trembling.

Another time, just before he had time to go back into the hole before the dawn, he just yawned sweetly, in anticipation of sleep, - he looks, out of nowhere, at the very hole a pike is standing and clapping its teeth. And she also guarded him all day, as if she was fed up with the sight of him. And he puffed up the pike: he did not come out of the bark, and even the Sabbath.

And more than once, and not twice it happened to him, but the honor that every day. And every day, trembling, he won victories and victories, every day he exclaimed: "Glory to you, Lord! He is alive!"

But this is not enough: he did not marry and did not have children, although his father had a large family. He reasoned like this: "Father could have lived in jest! At that time, the pikes were kinder, and the perches did not shave at us, small fry. And although once he got in the ear, there was an old man who rescued him! today, as the fish have risen in the rivers, and the piscari have fallen in honor. So here it is not up to the family, but how to just live it yourself! "

And the wise squeaker lived in this way for more than a hundred years. Everything was trembling, everything was trembling. He had no friends or relatives; neither he to anyone, nor who to him. He does not play cards, does not drink wine, does not smoke tobacco, does not chase after red girls - only trembles and thinks one thought: "Thank God! It seems he is alive!"

Even the pike, in the end, and they began to praise him: "Well, if everyone lived like this, it would be quiet in the river!" They only said it on purpose; they thought that he would recommend him for praise - here, they say, I am! here it and clap! But he did not succumb to this thing either, and once again, with his wisdom, defeated the intrigues of his enemies.

How many years have passed after a hundred years - it is not known, only the wise squealer began to die. Lies in a hole and thinks: "Thank God, I am dying with my death, just as my mother and father died." And then he remembered the words of the pike: "Well, if everyone lived like this, how this wise piskar lives ..." Well, really, what would have happened then?

He began to scatter the mind, which he had a ward, and suddenly it was as if someone whispered to him: "After all, that way, perhaps, the whole piscari family would have been transferred long ago!"

Because, in order to continue the sibling family, first of all, a family is needed, but he does not have one. But this is not enough: in order for the piskarya's family to strengthen and prosper, so that its members are healthy and vigorous, it is necessary that they be brought up in their native element, and not in a hole, where he is almost blind from the eternal twilight. It is necessary that the piscari receive sufficient food, so that they do not shy away from the public, they take bread and salt with each other and borrow from each other by virtues and other excellent qualities. For only such a life can improve the piscary breed and will not allow it to grind and degenerate into smelt.

Wrongly believe those who think that only those piscari can be considered worthy citizens, who, mad with fear, sit in holes and tremble. No, these are not citizens, but at least useless piscari. No one is warm or cold from them, no honor, no dishonor, no glory, no dishonor ... they live, they take a place for nothing and eat food.

All this was presented so distinctly and clearly that suddenly a passionate hunt came to him: "I’ll get out of the hole and float across the river with a goggle!" But as soon as he thought about it, he was again frightened. And he began, trembling, to die. Lived - trembled, and died - trembled.

All life instantly flashed before him. What were his joys? whom did he comfort? to whom did you give good advice? to whom did you say a good word? who sheltered, warmed, protected? who heard of him? who will remember its existence?

And to all these questions he had to answer: "Nobody, nobody."

He lived and trembled - that's all. Even now: death is on his nose, and he is still trembling, he does not know why. In his hole it is dark, cramped, there is nowhere to turn, neither a sunbeam will look there, nor does it smell of warmth. And he lies in this damp darkness, blind, haggard, useless to anyone, lies and waits: when will starvation finally free him from his useless existence?

He hears other fish darting past his hole - perhaps, like him, piscari - and none of them will take an interest in him. Not a single one will come to an idea: "Come on, I will ask the wise squeaker, in what manner did he manage to live for more than a hundred years, and neither the pike swallowed him, nor the cancer with his claw did not break, nor did the angler catch him with a whip?" They float past themselves, or maybe they don't know that in this hole the wise squealer is completing his life process!

And what is most offensive: not even to hear that someone called him wise. They just say: "Have you heard about the idiot who does not eat, does not drink, does not see anyone, does not drive bread and salt with anyone, but protects everything just spreading his life?" And many even just call him a fool and a shame and wonder how the water tolerates such idols.

He threw his mind in this way and dozed. That is, not just dozing, but already began to forget. Death whispers rang out in his ears, languor spread throughout his body. And here he dreamed of the old seductive dream. As if he won two hundred thousand, grew by as much as half an arshin and swallows pike himself.

And while he dreamed of this, his snout, little by little, little by little, entirely out of the hole and stuck out.

And suddenly he disappeared. What happened here - whether the pike swallowed him, broke the cancer with a claw, or he himself died by his own death and floated to the surface - there were no witnesses to this case. Most likely - he himself died, because what sweetness is it for a pike to swallow a sick, dying squeaker, and besides, also a "wise" one?

Illustrations: Kukryniksy

Quotes from Mikhail Evgrafovich Saltykov-Shchedrin

Portrait of the writer Mikhail Evgrafovich Saltykov (N. Shchedrin)
Artist: Ivan Kramskoy
Completion date: 1879

In the matter of administrative reputation, the entire future of the administrator depends on the first step.

Quote from the fairy tale "The Bear in the Voivodeship" (1884)

“At the very time when Toptygin 1st was distinguished in his slum, Lev sent another governor to another similar slum, also a major and also Toptygin. This one was smarter than his namesake and, most importantly, he understood that the entire future of the administrator depends on the first step. Therefore, even before receiving the run money, he maturely thought over his campaign plan and then only ran to the voivodeship. "

All the magic in the world comes from the bosses

A quote from the work of M.E. Saltykov-Shchedrin. "Modern idyll" (1877).

The main character speaks to Glumov

- "All the magic in the world comes from the bosses. And the bosses, I will report to you, this is such a subject: today he will give, and tomorrow he will take back again. It is pleasant to receive, but to give is really bitter. Therefore, I think so: he is only a person can be considered happy, who on the way of his superiors completely avoids contriving. "

Angry bass complicated by drunkenness

Expression from the work of M.E. Saltykov-Shchedrin. "Modern idyll" (1877):

"- Why the hell have we gotten here!" - suddenly and somehow angrily asked the question "our own correspondent".

His voice sounded prophetic. As a rule, he behaved silently and even timidly, so that the very properties of his voice; were almost unknown to us. And suddenly it turned out that he had an angry bass, complicated by a drink. "

For the benefit of science, we don’t mind other people's money

Quote from the work of M.E. Saltykov-Shchedrin. "Modern idyll" (1877).

Dialogue between Glumov and the Purified One:

- Allow me to report to you, - the Purified stood up, - we have one person at the editorial office, from an early age he has been writing an essay "about the Polar bug", but he does not dare to publish it ...
- Why doesn't he dare?
- Yes, the observations, he says, are not accurate enough. Now, if he were to travel around Russia with a scientific purpose, he would probably outshine many foreigners.
- Fine. And what do you think, your friend ten thousand for the expedition will be enough?
- Have mercy! Yes, with that kind of money, he will even visit relatives in the Perm province! - Let him go. For the benefit of science, we do not mind other people's money. Are there any other needs? Ask!

"He began to scatter the mind, which he had a ward, and suddenly it was as if someone whispered to him:" After all, that way, perhaps, the whole Piscari family would have been transferred long ago! "

Because, in order to continue the sibling family, first of all, a family is needed, but he does not have one. But this is not enough: in order for the piskarya's family to strengthen and prosper, so that its members are healthy and vigorous, it is necessary that they be brought up in their native element, and not in a hole, where he is almost blind from the eternal twilight.

It is necessary that the piscari receive sufficient food, so that they do not shy away from the public, they take bread and salt with each other and borrow from each other by virtues and other excellent qualities. For only such a life can improve the piscary breed and will not allow it to grind and degenerate into smelt.

Wrongly believe those who think that only those piscari can be considered worthy citizens, who, mad with fear, sit in holes and tremble. No, these are not citizens, but at least useless piscari. No one is warm or cold from them, no honor, no dishonor, no glory, no dishonor ... they live, they take a place for nothing and eat food.

All this was presented so clearly and distinctly that suddenly a passionate hunt came to him: “I’ll get out of the hole and swim along the whole river with a goggle!” But as soon as he thought about it, he was again frightened. And he began, trembling, to die. Lived - trembled, and died - trembled.

All life instantly flashed before him. What were his joys? whom did he comfort? to whom did you give good advice? to whom did you say a good word? who sheltered, warmed, protected? who heard of him? who will remember its existence?

And to all these questions he had to answer: "Nobody, nobody."

He lived and trembled - that's all. Even now: death is on his nose, and he is still trembling, he does not know why. In his hole it is dark, cramped, there is nowhere to turn, neither a sunbeam will look there, nor does it smell of warmth.

And he lies in this damp darkness, blind, emaciated, useless to anyone, lies and waits: when will starvation finally free him from his useless existence? "

And what! no matter how much the old man interpreted at that time what an ear is and what it consists of, however, even ascend in the river, rarely does anyone have a sound idea of ​​an ear!

But he, the son of a squeaker, perfectly remembered the teachings of the squeaker-father, and he wound himself on a mustache. He was an enlightened, moderately liberal squeaker, and he understood very firmly that living life is not like licking a whorl. "You have to live in such a way that no one will notice," he said to himself, "otherwise you will just disappear!" - and began to get settled. First of all, I came up with such a hole for myself, so that he could get into it, and no one else could get in! He pounded this hole with his nose for a whole year, and how much fear he took at that time, sleeping in the silt, now under a water burdock, now in sedge. Finally, however, he hollowed out wonderfully. Clean, tidy - only one fits just right. Secondly, about his life, he decided this: at night, when people, animals, birds and fish are asleep, he will exercise, and during the day, he will sit in a hole and tremble. But since you still need to drink and eat, and he does not receive a salary and does not keep a servant, he will run out of the hole around noon, when all the fish are already full, and, God willing, maybe a booger or two and will hunt. And if he does not provide, then the hungry man will lie down in the hole and tremble again. For it is better not to eat or drink than to lose life with a full stomach.

And so he did. At night he did exercise, bathed in the moonlight, and during the day climbed into a hole and trembled. Only at noon will he run out to grab something - but what can you do at noon! At this time, the mosquito hides under the leaf from the heat, and the insect is buried under the bark. Swallows water - and the Sabbath!

He lies day-day in a hole, he doesn't get enough sleep at night, a piece of food is malnourished and keeps thinking: “It seems that I am alive? ah, will there be something tomorrow? "

Doze off, a sinful deed, and in a dream he dreams that he has a winning ticket and he won two hundred thousand for it. Not remembering himself with delight, he would turn over on the other side - lo and behold, he had a whole half-wing protruding out of the hole ... What if at that time a bee-pup was nearby! after all, he would have pulled him out of the hole!

One day he woke up and saw: there was a cancer right in front of his hole. Stands motionless, as if bewitched, goggling bony eyes at him. Only the whiskers move with the flow of water. That's when he got scared! And for half a day, until it got completely dark, this cancer was waiting for him, and meanwhile he was trembling all the time, trembling all the time.

Another time, just before he had time to return to the hole before the dawn, he just yawned sweetly, in anticipation of sleep, - he looks, out of nowhere, at the very hole a pike is standing and clapping its teeth. And she also guarded him all day, as if she was fed up with the sight of him. And he puffed up the pike: he did not come out of the hole, and even the Sabbath.

And more than once, and not twice it happened to him, but the honor that every day. And every day, trembling, he won victories and victories, every day he exclaimed: “Glory to you, Lord! alive! "

But this is not enough: he did not marry and did not have children, although his father had a large family. He reasoned like this: “Father could have lived in jest! At that time, the pike were kinder, and the perches on us, small fry, did not shave. And although one day he was in the ear, and then an old man was found who rescued him! And now, like a fish, something in the rivers has risen, and the piscari have got in honor. So here it is not up to the family, but how to live alone! "

And the wise squeaker lived in this way for more than a hundred years. Everything was trembling, everything was trembling. He had no friends or relatives; neither he to anyone, nor who to him. He doesn't play cards, doesn't drink wine, doesn't smoke tobacco, doesn't chase after red girls - only trembles and thinks to one thought: “Thank God! seems to be alive! "

Even the pikes in the end, and they began to praise him: "Well, if everyone lived like this, it would be quiet in the river!" They only said it on purpose; they thought that he would recommend him for praise - here, they say, I am! here it and clap! But he did not succumb to this thing either, and once again, with his wisdom, defeated the intrigues of his enemies.

How many years have passed after a hundred years - it is not known, only the wise squealer began to die. Lies in a hole and thinks: "Thank God, I am dying with my death, just as my mother and father died." And then he remembered the pike words: "Well, if everyone lived like this, how this wise squirrel lives ..." Well, really, what would have happened then?

He began to scatter the mind that he had a ward, and suddenly it was as if someone whispered to him: "After all, that way, perhaps, the whole Piscari family would have been transferred long ago!"

Because, in order to continue the squeaky family, first of all, a family is needed, but he does not have one. But this is not enough: in order for the piskarya's family to strengthen and prosper, so that its members are healthy and vigorous, it is necessary that they be brought up in their native element, and not in a hole, where he is almost blind from the eternal twilight. It is necessary that the piscari receive sufficient food, so that they do not shy away from the public, they take bread and salt with each other and borrow from each other by virtues and other excellent qualities. For only such a life can improve the piscary breed and will not allow it to grind and degenerate into smelt.

Wrongly believe those who think that only those piscari can be considered worthy citizens, who, mad with fear, sit in holes and tremble. No, these are not citizens, but at least useless piscari. No one is warm or cold from them, no honor, no dishonor, no glory, no dishonor ... they live, they take a place for nothing and eat food.

All this was presented so clearly and distinctly that suddenly a passionate hunt came to him: "I'll get out of the hole and swim along the whole river with a gogol!" But as soon as he thought about it, he was again frightened. And he began, trembling, to die. Lived - trembled, and died - trembled.

All life instantly flashed before him. What were his joys? whom did he comfort? to whom did you give good advice? to whom did you say a good word? who sheltered, warmed, protected? who heard about him? who will remember its existence?

And to all these questions he had to answer: "Nobody, nobody."

He lived and trembled - that's all. Even now: death is on his nose, and he is still trembling, he does not know why. His hole is dark, cramped, there is nowhere to turn; neither a sunbeam will look there, nor does it smell of warmth. And he lies in this damp darkness, blind, haggard, useless to anyone, lies and waits: when, finally, death by starvation will finally free him from useless existence?

He hears other fish darting past his hole - maybe, like him, piscari - and none of them will take an interest in him. Not a single one will come to an idea: "Come on, I will ask the wise squeaker, in what manner did he manage to live for over a hundred years, and neither the pike swallowed him, nor the crayfish with a claw, nor did the angler catch him with a whip?" They float past themselves, or maybe they don't know that in this hole the wise squealer is completing his life process!

And what is most offensive: not even to hear that someone called him wise. They just say: "Have you heard about the dunce who does not eat, does not drink, does not see anyone, does not drive bread and salt with anyone, but protects everything just spreading his life?" And many even just call him a fool and a shame and wonder how the water tolerates such idols.

He threw his mind in this way and dozed. That is, not just dozing, but already began to forget. Death whispers rang out in his ears, languor spread throughout his body. And here he dreamed of the old seductive dream. As if he won two hundred thousand, grew by as much as half an arshin and swallows pike himself.

And while he dreamed of this, his snout, little by little, little by little, entirely out of the hole and stuck out.

And suddenly he disappeared. What happened here - whether the pike swallowed him, whether the cancer was broken with a claw, or he himself died by his own death and floated to the surface - there were no witnesses to this case. Most likely - he himself died, because what sweetness is it for a pike to swallow a sick, dying squeak, and besides, even a wise one?