Humorous stories

...For laughter is joy, and therefore in itself is good.

Spinoza. "Ethics", part IV. Position XLV, scholium II.

Curry favor

Leshka’s right leg had been numb for a long time, but he did not dare change his position and listened eagerly. It was completely dark in the corridor, and through the narrow crack of the ajar door one could only see a brightly lit piece of the wall above the kitchen stove. A large dark circle topped with two horns wavered on the wall. Leshka guessed that this circle was nothing more than the shadow of his aunt’s head with the ends of the scarf sticking up.

The aunt came to visit Leshka, whom only a week ago she had designated as a “boy for room services,” and was now conducting serious negotiations with the cook who was her patron. The negotiations were of an unpleasantly alarming nature, the aunt was very worried, and the horns on the wall rose and fell steeply, as if some unprecedented beast was goring its invisible opponents.

It was assumed that Leshka washes his galoshes in the front. But, as you know, man proposes, but God disposes, and Leshka, with a rag in his hands, listened behind the door.

“I realized from the very beginning that he was a bungler,” the cook sang in a rich voice. - How many times do I tell him: if you, guy, are not a fool, stay in front of your eyes. Don’t do shitty things, but stay in front of your eyes. Because Dunyashka scrubs. But he doesn’t even listen. Just now the lady was screaming again - she didn’t interfere with the stove and closed it with a firebrand.

The horns on the wall are agitated, and the aunt moans like an Aeolian harp:

- Where can I go with him? Mavra Semyonovna! I bought him boots, without drinking or eating, I gave him five rubles. For the alteration of the jacket, the tailor, without drinking or eating, tore off six hryvnia...

“No other way than to send him home.”

- Darling! The road, no food, no food, four rubles, dear!

Leshka, forgetting all precautions, sighs outside the door. He doesn't want to go home. His father promised that he would skin him seven times, and Leshka knows from experience how unpleasant that is.

“It’s still too early to howl,” the cook sings again. “So far, no one is chasing him.” The lady only threatened... But the tenant, Pyotr Dmitrich, is very interceding. Right behind Leshka. That's enough, Marya Vasilievna says, he's not a fool, Leshka. He, he says, is a complete idiot, there’s no point in scolding him. I really stand up for Leshka.

- Well, God bless him...

“But with us, whatever the tenant says is sacred.” Because he is a well-read person, he pays carefully...

- And Dunyashka is good! – the aunt twirled her horns. - I don’t understand people like this - telling lies on a boy...

- Truly! True. Just now I tell her: “Go open the door, Dunyasha,” affectionately, as if in a kind way. So she snorts in my face: “Grit, I’m not your doorman, open the door yourself!” And I sang everything to her here. How to open doors, so you, I say, are not a doorman, but how to kiss a janitor on the stairs, so you are still a doorman...

- Lord have mercy! From these years to everything I spied. The girl is young, she should live and live. One salary, no food, no...

- Me, what? I told her straight out: how to open doors, you’re not a doorman. She, you see, is not a doorman! And how to accept gifts from a janitor, she is a doorman. Yes, lipstick for the tenant...

Trrrrr...” the electric bell crackled.

- Leshka! Leshka! - the cook shouted. - Oh, you, you failed! Dunyasha was sent away, but he didn’t even listen.

Leshka held his breath, pressed himself against the wall and stood quietly until the angry cook swam past him, angrily rattling her starched skirts.

“No, pipes,” thought Leshka, “I won’t go to the village. I’m not a stupid guy, I’ll want to, so I’ll quickly curry favor. You can’t wipe me out, I’m not like that.”

And, waiting for the cook to return, he walked with decisive steps into the rooms.

“Be, grit, before our eyes. And what kind of eyes will I be when no one is ever home?

He walked into the hallway. Hey! The coat is hanging - a tenant of the house.

He rushed to the kitchen and, snatching the poker from the dumbfounded cook, rushed back into the rooms, quickly opened the door to the tenant’s room and went to stir the stove.

The tenant was not alone. With him was a young lady, wearing a jacket and a veil. Both shuddered and straightened up when Leshka entered.

“I’m not a stupid guy,” thought Leshka, poking the burning wood with a poker. “I’ll irritate those eyes.” I’m not a parasite - I’m all in business, all in business!..”

The firewood crackled, the poker rattled, sparks flew in all directions. The lodger and the lady were tensely silent. Finally, Leshka headed towards the exit, but stopped right at the door and began to anxiously examine the wet spot on the floor, then turned his eyes to the guest’s feet and, seeing the galoshes on them, shook his head reproachfully.

“Here,” he said reproachfully, “they left it behind!” And then the hostess will scold me.

The guest flushed and looked at the tenant in confusion.

“Okay, okay, go ahead,” he calmed embarrassedly.

And Leshka left, but not for long. He found a rag and returned to wipe the floor.

He found the lodger and his guest silently bending over the table and immersed in contemplation of the tablecloth.

“Look, they were staring,” thought Leshka, “they must have noticed the spot.” They think I don't understand! Found a fool! I understand. I work like a horse!”

And, approaching the thoughtful couple, he carefully wiped the tablecloth under the tenant’s very nose.

- What are you doing? - he was scared.

- Like what? I can't live without my eye. Dunyashka, the oblique devil, only knows a dirty trick, and she’s not the doorman to keep order... The janitor on the stairs...

- Go away! Idiot!

But the young lady frightenedly grabbed the tenant’s hand and spoke in a whisper.

“He’ll understand...” Leshka heard, “the servants... gossip...”

The lady had tears of embarrassment in her eyes, and in a trembling voice she said to Leshka:

- Nothing, nothing, boy... You don’t have to close the door when you go...

The tenant grinned contemptuously and shrugged.

Leshka left, but, having reached the front hall, he remembered that the lady asked not to lock the door, and, returning, opened it.

The tenant jumped away from his lady like a bullet.

“Eccentric,” Leshka thought as he left. “It’s light in the room, but he’s scared!”

Leshka walked into the hallway, looked in the mirror, and tried on the resident’s hat. Then he walked into the dark dining room and scratched the cupboard door with his nails.

- Look, you unsalted devil! You're here all day, like a horse, working, and all she knows is locking the closet.

I decided to go stir the stove again. The door to the resident's room was closed again. Leshka was surprised, but entered.

The tenant sat calmly next to the lady, but his tie was on one side, and he looked at Leshka with such a look that he only clicked his tongue:

“What are you looking at! I myself know that I’m not a parasite, I’m not sitting idly by.”

The coals are stirred, and Leshka leaves, threatening that he will soon return to close the stove. A quiet half-moan, half-sigh was his answer.

"What a joy it is to be wild man! – thought Katyusha, making her way through the bushes of the monastery forest. “Here I am wandering where, perhaps, no human foot has ever stepped before.” I feel with my whole body, with my whole soul how much I belong to this earth. And she probably feels me as one of her own. It’s a pity that I can’t walk barefoot – it hurts too much. Damn ancestors! They ruined my soles with culture.”

Through the thin pines the sky turned pink. How wonderful!

She enthusiastically raised her freckled nose and recited:

And resin and strawberries

It smells like old wood.

But the old forest ended right there near the official house of the chief engineer.

Katyusha stopped. There was something happening on the lawn. Something extraordinary. The chief engineer himself, his assistant, a young doctor and about five other people - it was impossible to tell who from behind - gathered in a circle, bent down, some even squatted down, and someone suddenly roared offendedly, and everyone laughed.

- Who are they laughing at? That's right, some fool, deaf and dumb.

It became scary and a little disgusting.

But the people are all familiar. You can come over. It's just awkward that she's so disheveled. And the dress on the shoulder is torn by thorns. But “he”, fortunately, is not here. This means there will be no grumbling. (“He” is the husband.)

And again something roared, growled without words.

Katyusha came up.

The chief engineer raised his head, saw Katyusha, nodded to her:

- Katerina Vladimirovna! Come here! Look what a monster Nikolai brought.

Nikolai, the forest guard - Katyusha knew him - stood aside and smiled, covering his mouth with his fingers out of politeness.

The young doctor moved away, and in the center of the circle Katyusha saw a small fat bear cub. A piece of rope with a wooden block tied to it was dangling around his neck. The little bear shook the block from side to side, caught it with his paw and suddenly began to skip and run. And then the block hit him on the sides, and the bear cub roared and raised his paw menacingly. This made the people around him laugh.

“Wait,” the assistant engineer shouted, “I’ll blow smoke into his nose, wait...

But at this time someone poked the bear cub with a stick. He turned around angrily and, raising his paw, funny, terribly menacing, but not at all scary, went at the offender.

Katyusha was confused. She herself didn’t understand what to do and how she felt about this story.

“Wait,” someone shouted, “Fifi is going to meet the bear.” Skip Fifi.

Fifi, a poodle from a neighboring estate, small, lean, with a dapper lion haircut, with pads and bracelets on his paws, entered the circle.

The bear, tired and offended, sat down and thought. The poodle, smartly moving his paws, approached, sniffed the bear from the side, from the tail, from the muzzle, walked around again, sniffed from the other side - the bear glanced sideways, but did not move. The poodle, dancing, had just set his sights on sniffing the bear’s ears, when the bear suddenly swung and bang the poodle in the face. He, not so much from the force of the blow as from surprise, turned over in the air, squealed and started to run away.

Everyone started laughing. Even the watchman Nikolai, forgetting politeness, threw back his head and roared at the top of his lungs.

And then Katyusha “found herself.”

“My dear,” the chief engineer jumped up. - Katerina Vladimirovna! Katyushenka! Why are you crying? Such a grown-up lady, and suddenly because of a bear cub... Nobody offends him. The Lord is with you! Don't cry, otherwise I'll cry myself!

“Ardalyon Ilyich,” Katyusha babbled, wiping her cheek with the torn sleeve of her dress, “forgive me, but I can’t when-a-a...”

“It’s a waste of time for you to walk around in the heat without a hat,” the young doctor said admonishingly.

- Leave it alone! – Katyusha shouted at him angrily. - Ardalyon Ilyich, my dear, give it to me if it’s nobody’s. I beg you.

- What are you talking about, my dear! Yes, there is something to talk about! Nikolai,” he turned to the forest guard, “you will take the bear cub to the Gordatskys, you know, to the magistrate.” Here you go. Go home quietly.

Katyusha sighed a trembling sigh. She looked around and wanted to explain her behavior - but there was no one to explain it to. Everyone left.

At home Katyusha had an angry husband, an angry cook and a maid, Nastya, her own person. Katyusha was afraid of the cook, fawned on her, and called her “Glafira, you.” She called her “Mistress, you” and clearly despised her.

Nastya understood everything.

Nastya had a boy brother, Nikolai, and a gray cat. The boy was called Cat, and the cat Pawn.

Among people, Nastya was considered a fool and was called Nastya the thick-fisted one.

The cook had a negative attitude towards the bear. Nastyukha, Cat and Pawn are delighted. The angry husband was away.

– You understand, Nastya, this is a forest child. Do you understand?

And Nastya, and the boy Cat, and the cat Pawn blinked their knowing eyes.

- Give him something to eat. He will sleep with me. They cooked semolina porridge for the little bear. He climbed into it with all four paws, ate, grumbled, then hid under the chair and fell asleep. They pulled him out, dried him and laid him on Katyusha’s bed.

Katyusha looked with emotion at the paw covering the bear's muzzle and at the furry ear. And at that moment there was no one in the world dearer and closer to her.

“I love you,” she said and quietly kissed her paw.

– I’m no longer young, that is, not my first youth. I’ll soon be eighteen... “Oh, how in our declining years we love more tenderly and more superstitiously...”

The bear woke up in the morning at half past three. He grabbed Katyushka’s leg with his paws and began to suck on it. It's ticklish, painful. Katyusha struggled to free her leg. The bear roared offendedly, walked along the bed, reached Katyusha’s shoulder, and sucked on it. Katyusha screamed and fought back. The bear was completely offended and began to climb out of bed. He stretched out his thick paw and began to carefully feel the floor. He fell, flopped, roared, got up and ran, throwing up his butt, into the dining room. A second later the dishes rattled.

It was he who climbed onto the table, caught his paws and pulled off the entire tablecloth and dishes together.

Nastya came running to the noise.

-Lock him up, or what?

- It is forbidden! – Katyusha screamed in despair. – A forest child cannot be tormented.

The books in the office rattled and the inkwell rang.

The forest child, a fat lump, knocked down everything he touched, and was offended that things were falling, roared and ran away, throwing up his tailless butt.

Katyusha, pale, with white eyes, and a blue mouth, rushed around the house in horror.

“I’ll just lock him up for an hour,” Nastya decided, “while you sleep.” Then we'll release it.

Katyusha agreed.

In the evening the angry husband returned. I found Katyusha in bed, exhausted, learned about the bear's pranks, forbade the bear to be allowed into the rooms, and the forest child passed into the custody of Nastya, the Cat and the cat Pawn.

Then it turned out that the bear was not a bear, but a she-bear, and Katyusha was terribly disappointed.

– The bear is a fabulous, wonderful animal. And a bear is downright stupid.

The little bear lived in Nastya’s little room and slept in the same bed with her. Sometimes at night shouts were heard from Nastya’s little room:

- Masha, stop it! Here I am, falling apart. There is no abyss for you!

Sometimes Katyusha asked:

- Well, how is the bear?

Nastya made a pitiful face; I was afraid that Masha would be kicked out.

- Bear? He regards me as a womb. He understands everything, no worse than a cow. This is such a bear that you won’t find it during the day with a fire.

Katyusha was pleased that everyone praised the animal, but there was no longer any interest in him. Firstly, the bear. Secondly, he grew up a lot and stopped being funny and entertaining. And he became cunning. Once they hear it, the chickens are fighting in the chicken coop and clucking in a voice that is not their own, and for some reason the door is closed - which has never happened during the day. They ran and opened it. Bear! He climbed in, locked the door behind him and caught the chickens. And he understands perfectly well that the case is illegal, because when he was caught, his face became very embarrassed and ashamed.

After this, Katya’s angry husband said that keeping such an animal in the house, whose bloodthirsty instincts have awakened, is quite dangerous. Someone advised him to be given to the mill, to the landowner Ampov. There they have long wanted to get a bear to sit on a chain.

They wrote to the landowner.

In response to the letter, Madame Ampova herself came - a poetic, gentle lady, all iridescent and flowing. Some scarves were always fluttering around her, frills were rustling, chains were jingling. She didn’t speak, but recited.

- Dear animal! Give it to me. He will sit on the chain free and proud, the chain is long and will not interfere with him. We will feed him flour. I won’t charge you much for flour, but, of course, you will have to pay six months in advance.

The lady chirped so tenderly that Katyusha, although she was very surprised that she would have to pay for food for the bear she was giving, did not find what to answer, and only fearfully asked how much exactly she had to pay.

The boy Cat was assigned to deliver the bear. The cat harnessed the beast to the sled and rolled it away.

“When he saw the forest, and when he ran, his spirit became so intense that he could barely turn it,” said the Cat.

Nastya was crying.

A month later I ran to take a look - the Ampovs’ estate was six miles from the city.

“Sit-it,” she cried. “He recognized me, but as soon as he rushed, he didn’t break the chain.” After all, I... after all, I was his womb. He sucked all over my shoulder...

Ampova sent the bill for the flour with a letter in which she poured out her tenderness for the bear:

“Cute little animal. I admire him every day and treat him with sugar.”

Then Katyusha and her husband went abroad for two months.

We returned and a few days later received a scented note from the Ampovs.

“I’m glad you’re finally back,” she wrote on lilac paper. - I honestly keep a chicken leg from our Mishka for you. The hams came out excellent. We smoked at home. Come right in time for lunch. It's wonderful here. Lilies of the valley are blooming, and all nature seems to sing a song of beauty. Wonderful nights..."

- God! – Katyusha was completely dead. - They ate it.

I remembered the “forest child”, small, clumsy, funny and fierce, how he put all four paws in the semolina porridge and how she said to him at night: “I love you.” And she remembered his furry ear, and how there was no one in the world closer and dearer to her.

- “Dangerous beast”! But it wasn’t he who ate us, but we who ate him!

I went to Nastya and wanted to tell her, but didn’t dare.

I looked into Nastya’s nook, saw a bed, narrow, small, where a forest animal lived, where it slept next to Nastya, and “respected her for a womb,” dear, warm, completely at home.

“Come right in time for lunch...”

No. She didn’t dare tell Nastya this.

Zoinka Milgau discovered a great talent for literature while still at the institute.

Once she described the suffering of the Maid of Orleans in such vivid colors in German, that the teacher got drunk from excitement and could not come to class the next day.

Then followed a new triumph, which forever strengthened Zoinka’s reputation as the best institute poetess. She achieved this honor by writing a magnificent poem for the arrival of the trustee, beginning with the words:

Our hour has finally come,

And we saw your appearance among us...

When Zoinka graduated from college, her mother asked her:

What are we going to do now? A young girl must improve either in music or in drawing.

Zoinka looked at her mother in surprise and answered simply:

Why should I draw when I'm a writer?

And on the same day I sat down to write a novel.

She wrote very diligently for a whole month, but what came out was not a novel, but a story, which she herself was quite surprised at.

The theme was the most original: one young girl fell in love with one young man and married him. This thing was called "Hieroglyphs of the Sphinx".

The young girl got married on about the tenth page of a sheet of ordinary-sized writing paper, and Zoinka positively did not know what to do with her next. I thought about it for three days and wrote an epilogue:

"In the course of time Eliza had two children and was apparently happy."

Zoinka thought for another two days, then she rewrote everything completely and took it to the editor.

The editor turned out to be a poorly educated person. In the conversation it turned out that he had never even heard of Zoya’s poem about the arrival of the trustee. However, he took the manuscript and asked to come back for an answer in two weeks.

Zoinka blushed, turned pale, curtsied and returned two weeks later.

The editor looked at her confused and said:

Yes, Mrs. Milgau!

Then he went into another room and brought out Zoinkin’s manuscript. The manuscript became dirty, its corners twisted in different directions, like the ears of a lively greyhound dog, and in general it looked sad and disgraced.

The editor handed Zoinka the manuscript.

But Zoinka did not understand what was the matter.

Your thing is not suitable for our organ. Here, if you please see...

He unfolded the manuscript.

For example, at the beginning... mmm... "... the sun gilded the tops of the trees"... mmm... You see, dear young lady, our newspaper is ideological. We are currently defending the rights of Yakut women at village gatherings, so at present we literally have no need for the sun. Yes, sir!

But Zoinka still did not leave and looked at him with such defenseless trust that the editor felt a bitter taste in his mouth.

“Nevertheless, you, of course, have a talent,” he added, examining his own shoe with interest. - I even want to advise you to make some changes in your story, which will undoubtedly benefit him. Sometimes the entire future of a work depends on some trifle. So, for example, your story is literally asking to be given dramatic form. Do you understand? Form of dialogue. In general, you have a brilliant dialogue. Here, for example, mmm... “goodbye, she said” and so on. Here's my advice. Turn your thing into a drama. And don’t rush, but think seriously, artistically. Do some work.

Zoinka went home, bought a bar of chocolate for inspiration and sat down to work.

Two weeks later she was already sitting in front of the editor, and he was wiping his forehead and stuttering:

You really were in such a hurry. If you write slowly and think about it well, then the work comes out better than when you don’t think about it and write quickly. Check back in a month for an answer.

When Zoinka left, he sighed heavily and thought:

What if she gets married this month, or leaves somewhere, or just gives up all this rubbish. After all, miracles happen! After all, there is happiness!

But happiness is rare, and miracles don’t happen at all, and a month later Zoinka came for an answer.

Seeing her, the editor swayed, but immediately pulled himself together.

Your thing? No, it's a lovely thing. Just guess what - I have one brilliant piece of advice to give you. That's it, dear young lady, you set it to music without hesitating a minute. A?

Zoinka moved her lips offendedly.

Why to music? I don't understand!

How can you not understand! Put it to music, because you, such an eccentric, will turn it into an opera! Just think - opera! Then you will come to thank yourself. Find a good composer...

No, I don't want opera! - Zoinka said decisively. I'm a writer... and suddenly you write an opera. I don't want!

My darling! Well, you are your own enemy. Just imagine... suddenly your song will be sung! No, I directly refuse to understand you.

Zoinka made a goat face and answered insistently:

No and no. I don't want to. Since you yourself ordered me to remake my work into a drama, you must now publish it, because I adapted it to our taste.

Yes, I don’t argue! The thing is charming! But you didn't understand me. In fact, I advised remaking it for the theater, and not for print.

Well, then give it to the theater! - Zoinka smiled at his stupidity.

Mmm-yes, but you see, modern theater requires a special repertoire. Hamlet has already been written. There is no need for anything else. But our theater really needs a good farce. If you could...

In other words, do you want me to turn Hieroglyphs of the Sphinx into a farce? That's what they would say.

She nodded her head to him, took the manuscript and walked out with dignity.

The editor looked after her for a long time and scratched his beard with a pencil.

Well, thank God! Won't come back again. But it’s still a pity that she was so offended. If only she wouldn't commit suicide.

“Dear young lady,” he said a month later, looking at Zoinka with gentle blue eyes. - Dear young lady. You took on this matter in vain! I read your farce and, of course, remained as before as an admirer of your talent. But, unfortunately, I must tell you that such subtle and elegant farces cannot be successful with our rude public. That's why theaters only take on very, how shall I say, very indecent farces, and your piece, excuse me, is not at all piquant.

Do you need something indecent? - Zoinka inquired busily and, returning home, asked her mother:

Maman, what is considered the most indecent?

Maman thought and said that, in her opinion, the most indecent things in the world are naked people.

Zoinka creaked her pen for about ten minutes and the next day proudly handed her manuscript to the stunned editor.

Did you want something indecent? Here! I redid it.

But where? - the editor was embarrassed. - I don’t see... it seems everything is as it was...

As where? Here - in the characters.

The editor turned the page and read:

"Characters: Ivan Petrovich Zhukin, justice of the peace, 53 years old - naked.

Anna Petrovna Bek, landowner, philanthropist, 48 years old - naked.

Kuskov, the zemstvo doctor - naked.

Rykova, paramedic, in love with Zhukin, 20 years old - naked.

The police officer is naked.

Glasha, the maid - naked.

Chernov, Pyotr Gavrilych, professor, 65 years old - naked."

Now you have no excuse to reject my work,” Zoinka triumphed sarcastically. - It seems to me that this is quite indecent!

Scary tale

When I came to the Sundukovs, they were in a hurry to see someone off at the station, but they never agreed to let me go.

Exactly in an hour; or even less, we will be at home. Sit with the kids for now - you are such a rare guest that then you won’t get a drink again for three years. Sit with the kids! Coconut! Totosya! Tulle! Come here! Take your aunt.

Kokosya, Totosya and Tulya came.

Kokosya is a clean boy with a parting on his head and a starched collar.

Totosya is a clean girl with a pigtail in her front.

Tulle is a thick bubble that connects the starched collar and apron.

They greeted me decorously, sat me down on the sofa in the living room and began to occupy me.

“Dad drove us away from the fraulein,” said Kokosya.

“I sent the fraulein away,” said Totosya.

Fat Tulya sighed and whispered:

Plogal!

She was a terrible fool! - Kokosya kindly explained.

It was stupid! - Totosya supported.

Dulishcha! - the fat man sighed.

And dad bought Lianozov shares! - Kokosya continued to occupy himself. - Do you think they won’t fall?

How should I know!

Well, yes, you probably don’t have any Lianozov shares, so you don’t care. And I'm terribly afraid.

Afraid! - Tulya sighed and shivered.

What are you so afraid of?

Well, how come you don’t understand? After all, we are direct heirs. If dad dies today, everything will be ours, but when the Lianozovskys fall, then, perhaps, things won’t be so bad!

Then it's not too thick! - Totosya repeated.

Not too much! - Tyulya whispered.

Dear children, give up sad thoughts,” I said. Your dad is young and healthy, and nothing will happen to him. Let's have fun. Now it's Christmas time. Do you like scary fairy tales?

Yes, we don’t know - what kind of scary things are they?

If you don't know, well, I'll tell you. Want to?

Well, listen, in a certain kingdom, but not in our state, there lived a princess, a beautiful beauty. Her hands were sugar, her eyes were cornflower blue, and her hair was honey.

Frenchwoman? - Kokosya inquired busily.

Hm... perhaps not without it. Well, the princess lived and lived, and suddenly she looked: a wolf was coming...

I stopped here because I was a little scared myself.

Well, this wolf comes and says to her in a human voice: “Princess, princess, I’ll eat you!”

The princess got scared, fell at the wolf’s feet, lay there, gnawing the ground.

Let me go free, wolf.

No, he says, I won’t let you in!

Here I stopped again, remembered fat Tulya - he would get scared and fall ill.

Tulle! Aren't you very scared?

I then? Not a bit.

Kokosya and Totosya grinned contemptuously.

We, you know, are not afraid of wolves.

I was embarrassed.

Well, okay, so I'll tell you another one. Just don't get scared at night then. Well, listen! Once upon a time there lived an old queen, and this queen went for a walk in the forest. He goes, goes, goes, goes, goes, goes, suddenly, out of nowhere, a hunchbacked old woman comes out. The old woman approaches the queen and says to her in a human voice:

Hello, mother!

The queen bowed to the old woman.

“Who are you,” he says, “grandmother, that you walk through the forest and talk in a human voice?”

And the old woman suddenly laughed, her teeth creaked.

And I,” he says, “are mother, the one whom no one knows, but everyone meets.” “I,” he says, “mother, your Death!”

I took a breath because my throat was tight with fear.

She looked at the children. They sit and don't move. Only Totosya suddenly moved closer to me (yeah, the girl probably has finer nerves than these idiotic guys) and asked something.

What are you saying?

I'm asking how much does your clutch cost?

A? What? I don’t know... I don’t remember... You don’t like this fairy tale, right? Tulya, maybe you were very scared? Why are you silent?

What were you afraid of? I'm not afraid of old women.

I'm depressed. What could you come up with that would perk them up a little?

Maybe you don’t want to listen to fairy tales?

No, we really want to, please tell us, just something scary!

Well, fine, so be it. But maybe it’s not good to scare Tulya, he’s still very small.

No, nothing, please tell me.

Well, sir, so here it is! Once upon a time there lived an old count. And this count was so evil that in his old age he even grew horns.

Totosya nudged Kokosya, and both covered their mouths with their palms and giggled.

What are you doing? Well, so his horns grew, and when his teeth fell out from old age, boar tusks erupted in their place. Well, he lived and lived, shook his horns, clicked his fangs, and finally the time came for him to die. He dug himself a large grave, and not a simple one, but with an underground passage, and this underground passage led from the grave directly to the main hall, under the count's throne. And he told his children not to dare to decide any matters without him and to wait three days after his funeral. And then, he says, you’ll see what happens.

And when the count began to die, he called his two sons to him and ordered the eldest to cut out the heart of the youngest three days later and put this heart in a glass jug. And then, he says, you will see what will happen.

Then I got so scared that I even felt cold. Stupid! I made up all sorts of fears here, and then I didn’t dare walk through the dark room.

Children, what are you doing? Maybe... no more?

Is this your real chain? - asked Kokosya.

Where's the sample? - asked Totosya.

But what is it with Tulya? He closed his eyes! He's positively sick with fear!

Children! Look! Tulle! Tulle!

Yes, he fell asleep. Open your eyes, it's so impolite.

You know, dear children, I obviously can’t wait for your mother. It’s already late, it’s getting dark, and in the darkness I’ll probably be a little scared to walk after... after everything. But before we leave, I’ll tell you one more fairy tale, short, but very scary.

Listen here:

Once upon a time there were Lianozovo actions. They lived, lived, lived, lived, lived, lived, and suddenly... and fell!

Ay! What's wrong with you?

God! What's wrong with them?

The coconut is shaking like an aspen leaf. The mouth is twisted... Paralysis, or what?

Totosia is all white, her eyes are wide open, she wants to say something but cannot, only in horror she pushes away some terrible ghost with her hands.

And suddenly Tyulya’s desperate cry:

Ay! Afraid! Afraid! Ay, that's enough! Scary! Afraid! Afraid!

Something knocked. It was Totosya who fell unconscious on the carpet.

Jonah

It was already five o'clock in the morning when Alexander Ivanovich Fokin, a judicial investigator from the city of Nesladsk, ran home from the club and, as he was, without taking off his coat, galoshes and hat, flew into his wife's bedroom.

Fokin's wife was awake, holding the newspaper upside down, squinting at the flickering candle, and there was something inspired in her eyes: she was figuring out exactly how to scold her husband when he returned.

Several options came to mind. We could start like this:

You pig, you pig! Well, tell me at least once in your life frankly and honestly, aren’t you a pig?

But it’s not bad either:

Look, if you please, at your face in the mirror. Well, who do you look like?

Then wait for the response.

He will, of course, answer:

I'm not like anyone, and leave me alone.

Then it will be possible to say:

Yeah! Now I want peace! Why didn’t you want peace when you went to the club?

It's a rough start, but from there everything will go smoothly. But what's the best way to start?

When the torment of her creativity was unexpectedly interrupted by the invasion of her husband, she was completely at a loss. For three years now, that is, since he swore on his head, the happiness of his wife and the future of his children that he would not set foot in the club, he always returned from there quietly, through the back door and tiptoed into his office .

What happened to you? - she cried, looking at his cheerful, animated, almost enthusiastic face.

And two thoughts flashed in her soul, alarmingly and joyfully at once. One: “Did he really win forty thousand?” And another: “Everything will blow through tomorrow anyway!”

But the husband did not answer, sat down next to him on the bed and spoke slowly and solemnly:

Listen carefully! I'll start everything in order. Today, in the evening, you said: “Why is that gate slamming? That’s right, they forgot to lock it.” And I replied that I would lock it myself. Well, I went outside, locked the gate and, quite unexpectedly, went to the club.

What disgusting! - the wife jumped up.

But he stopped her:

Wait, wait! I know I'm a jerk and all that, but that's not the point right now. Listen further: in our city there is a certain excise Hugenberg, an elegant brunette.

Oh my God! Well, I don’t know him, or what? We've known each other for five years. Speak quickly - what a manner of pulling!

But Fokin found the story so delicious that he wanted to hold on longer.

Well, this same Hugenberg played cards. I played and, it should be noted, I won all evening. Suddenly the forester Pazukhin gets up, takes out his wallet and says:

I cry to you, Ilya Lukich, and I cry to you, Semyon Ivanovich, and I cry to Fyodor Pavlych, but I don’t cry to this gentleman because he is over-twitching. A? What's it like? This is about Hugenberg.

What are you talking about?

Understand? - the investigator triumphed. - It's moving! Well, Hugenberg, of course, jumped up, of course, all pale, everyone, of course, “ah”, “ah”. But, however, Hugenberg was found and says:

Dear Sir, if you wore a uniform, I would tear off your epaulettes, but what can I do with you?

How is it that they distort it so much? - asked the wife, shaking with joyful excitement.

This, you see, is, in fact, very simple. Hm... For example, he rents it out and takes a look. That is, no, not like that. Wait, don't knock it down. Here's how he does it: he shuffles the cards and tries to put the ace in such a way that when dealt it hits him. Understood?

Well, my dear, that’s why he’s a sharpie! However, this is very simple, I don’t know what you don’t understand. Don't we have maps?

The nanny has a deck.

Well, come quickly and bring it here, I’ll show you.

The wife brought a plump, dirty deck of cards, with gray limp corners.

That's disgusting!

It’s not disgusting, Lenka sucked it.

Well, I'm starting. Here, look: I rent it to you, myself and two others. Now let's say I want the Ace of Hearts. I look at my cards - there is no ace. I look at yours - no, either. Only these two partners remained. Then I reason logically: one of them must have the ace of hearts. According to probability theory, he is sitting right here, to the right. I'm watching. To hell with the theory of probability - there is no ace. Therefore, the ace is in this last pile. See how simple it is!

“Maybe it’s simple,” the wife answered, shaking her head in disbelief, “but somehow it doesn’t look like anything.” Well, who will let you look at their cards?

Hm... perhaps you're right. Well, in that case it's even easier. When I shuffle, I take out all the trump cards and put them in for myself.

Why do you know what trump cards will be?

Hm... well...

You better go to bed, you have to get up early tomorrow.

Yes Yes. I want to go to the Bubkeviches in the morning to tell everything how it happened.

And I’ll go to the Khromovs.

No, we'll go together. You weren’t present, but I’ll tell you everything myself!

Then we’ll go to the doctor’s.

Well, of course! Let's order a cab and off we go!

Both laughed with pleasure and even, unexpectedly for themselves, kissed.

No, really, it’s not so bad to live in the world!

The next morning, Fokina found her husband already in the dining room. He sat all gray, shaggy, confused, slapped cards on the table and said:

Well, this is for you, this is for you, and now I move, and I have your ace! Damn, that's not it again!

He looked at his wife absent-mindedly and dully.

Oh, is that you, Manechka? You know, I didn’t go to bed at all. Not worth it. Wait, don't bother me. So I hand it over again: this is for you, sir, this is for you...

At the Bubkevichs he talked about the club scandal and became animated again, choking and burning. The wife sat next to me, suggested a forgotten word or gesture and also burned. Then he asked for cards and began to show how Hugenberg distorted.

This is for you, sir, this is for you... This is for you, sir, and the king for yourself too... In essence, it’s very simple... Ah, damn it! No ace, no king! Well, let's start from the beginning.

Then we went to the Khromovs. Again they talked and burned, so much so that they even knocked over the coffee pot. Then Fokin again asked for cards and began to show how they were juggling. It went again:

This is for you, sir, this is for you...

Young lady Khromova suddenly laughed and said:

Well, Alexander Ivanovich, it’s clear you’ll never be a cheater!

Fokin flushed, smiled sarcastically and immediately said goodbye.

The doctor's wife already knew the whole story, and they even knew that Fokine was unable to shudder. So they immediately started laughing.

Well, how do you cheat? Come on, show me? Ha ha ha!

Fokin became completely angry. I decided not to travel anymore, went home and locked myself in my office.

Well, this is for you... - his tired voice came from there.

At about twelve o'clock at night he called his wife:

Well, Manya, what can you say now? Look: here I am renting. Come on, tell me, where is the trump crown?

Don't know.

Here she is! Oh! Crap! Wrong. So here it is. What is this? There is only one king...

He sank all over and his eyes bulged. His wife looked at him and suddenly squealed with laughter.

Oh, I can't! Oh, how funny you are! Apparently you will never be a cheater! You'll have to give up this career. Believe me...

She suddenly stopped short, because Fokin jumped up from his seat, all pale, shook his fists and yelled:

Shut up, fool! Get out of my room! Vile!

She ran out in horror, but it was still not enough for him. He opened the doors and shouted after her three times:

Philistine! Philistine! Philistine!

And at dawn he came to her, quiet and pitiful, sat on the edge of the bed, folded his hands:

Forgive me, Manechka! But it's so hard for me, it's so hard that I'm a failure! At least you have pity. I'm a bastard!

..................................................
Copyright: Nadezhda Teffi

Humorous stories

...For laughter is joy, and therefore in itself is good.

Spinoza. "Ethics", part IV. Position XLV, scholium II.

Curry favor

Leshka’s right leg had been numb for a long time, but he did not dare change his position and listened eagerly. It was completely dark in the corridor, and through the narrow crack of the ajar door one could only see a brightly lit piece of the wall above the kitchen stove. A large dark circle topped with two horns wavered on the wall. Leshka guessed that this circle was nothing more than the shadow of his aunt’s head with the ends of the scarf sticking up.

The aunt came to visit Leshka, whom only a week ago she had designated as a “boy for room services,” and was now conducting serious negotiations with the cook who was her patron. The negotiations were of an unpleasantly alarming nature, the aunt was very worried, and the horns on the wall rose and fell steeply, as if some unprecedented beast was goring its invisible opponents.

It was assumed that Leshka washes his galoshes in the front. But, as you know, man proposes, but God disposes, and Leshka, with a rag in his hands, listened behind the door.

“I realized from the very beginning that he was a bungler,” the cook sang in a rich voice. - How many times do I tell him: if you, guy, are not a fool, stay in front of your eyes. Don’t do shitty things, but stay in front of your eyes. Because Dunyashka scrubs. But he doesn’t even listen. Just now the lady was screaming again - she didn’t interfere with the stove and closed it with a firebrand.

The horns on the wall are agitated, and the aunt moans like an Aeolian harp:

- Where can I go with him? Mavra Semyonovna! I bought him boots, without drinking or eating, I gave him five rubles. For the alteration of the jacket, the tailor, without drinking or eating, tore off six hryvnia...

“No other way than to send him home.”

- Darling! The road, no food, no food, four rubles, dear!

Leshka, forgetting all precautions, sighs outside the door. He doesn't want to go home. His father promised that he would skin him seven times, and Leshka knows from experience how unpleasant that is.

“It’s still too early to howl,” the cook sings again. “So far, no one is chasing him.” The lady only threatened... But the tenant, Pyotr Dmitrich, is very interceding. Right behind Leshka. That's enough, Marya Vasilievna says, he's not a fool, Leshka. He, he says, is a complete idiot, there’s no point in scolding him. I really stand up for Leshka.

- Well, God bless him...

“But with us, whatever the tenant says is sacred.” Because he is a well-read person, he pays carefully...

- And Dunyashka is good! – the aunt twirled her horns. - I don’t understand people like this - telling lies on a boy...

- Truly! True. Just now I tell her: “Go open the door, Dunyasha,” affectionately, as if in a kind way. So she snorts in my face: “Grit, I’m not your doorman, open the door yourself!” And I sang everything to her here. How to open doors, so you, I say, are not a doorman, but how to kiss a janitor on the stairs, so you are still a doorman...

- Lord have mercy! From these years to everything I spied. The girl is young, she should live and live. One salary, no food, no...

- Me, what? I told her straight out: how to open doors, you’re not a doorman. She, you see, is not a doorman! And how to accept gifts from a janitor, she is a doorman. Yes, lipstick for the tenant...

Trrrrr...” the electric bell crackled.

- Leshka! Leshka! - the cook shouted. - Oh, you, you failed! Dunyasha was sent away, but he didn’t even listen.

Leshka held his breath, pressed himself against the wall and stood quietly until the angry cook swam past him, angrily rattling her starched skirts.

“No, pipes,” thought Leshka, “I won’t go to the village. I’m not a stupid guy, I’ll want to, so I’ll quickly curry favor. You can’t wipe me out, I’m not like that.”

And, waiting for the cook to return, he walked with decisive steps into the rooms.

“Be, grit, before our eyes. And what kind of eyes will I be when no one is ever home?

He walked into the hallway. Hey! The coat is hanging - a tenant of the house.

He rushed to the kitchen and, snatching the poker from the dumbfounded cook, rushed back into the rooms, quickly opened the door to the tenant’s room and went to stir the stove.

The tenant was not alone. With him was a young lady, wearing a jacket and a veil. Both shuddered and straightened up when Leshka entered.

“I’m not a stupid guy,” thought Leshka, poking the burning wood with a poker. “I’ll irritate those eyes.” I’m not a parasite - I’m all in business, all in business!..”

The firewood crackled, the poker rattled, sparks flew in all directions. The lodger and the lady were tensely silent. Finally, Leshka headed towards the exit, but stopped right at the door and began to anxiously examine the wet spot on the floor, then turned his eyes to the guest’s feet and, seeing the galoshes on them, shook his head reproachfully.

Current page: 1 (book has 10 pages total) [available reading passage: 3 pages]

Teffi
Humorous stories

...For laughter is joy, and therefore in itself is good.

Spinoza. "Ethics", part IV.

Position XLV, scholium II.

Curry favor

Leshka’s right leg had been numb for a long time, but he did not dare change his position and listened eagerly. It was completely dark in the corridor, and through the narrow crack of the ajar door one could only see a brightly lit piece of the wall above the kitchen stove. A large dark circle topped with two horns wavered on the wall. Leshka guessed that this circle was nothing more than the shadow of his aunt’s head with the ends of the scarf sticking up.

The aunt came to visit Leshka, whom only a week ago she had designated as a “boy for room services,” and was now conducting serious negotiations with the cook who was her patron. The negotiations were of an unpleasantly alarming nature, the aunt was very worried, and the horns on the wall rose and fell steeply, as if some unprecedented beast was goring its invisible opponents.

It was assumed that Leshka washes his galoshes in the front. But, as you know, man proposes, but God disposes, and Leshka, with a rag in his hands, listened behind the door.

“I realized from the very beginning that he was a bungler,” the cook sang in a rich voice. - How many times do I tell him: if you, guy, are not a fool, stay in front of your eyes. Don’t do shitty things, but stay in front of your eyes. Because Dunyashka scrubs. But he doesn’t even listen. Just now the lady was screaming again - she didn’t interfere with the stove and closed it with a firebrand.

The horns on the wall are agitated, and the aunt moans like an Aeolian harp:

- Where can I go with him? Mavra Semyonovna! I bought him boots, without drinking or eating, I gave him five rubles. For the alteration of the jacket, the tailor, without drinking or eating, tore off six hryvnia...

“No other way than to send him home.”

- Darling! The road, no food, no food, four rubles, dear!

Leshka, forgetting all precautions, sighs outside the door. He doesn't want to go home. His father promised that he would skin him seven times, and Leshka knows from experience how unpleasant that is.

“It’s still too early to howl,” the cook sings again. “So far, no one is chasing him.” The lady only threatened... But the tenant, Pyotr Dmitrich, is very interceding. Right behind Leshka. That's enough, Marya Vasilievna says, he's not a fool, Leshka. He, he says, is a complete idiot, there’s no point in scolding him. I really stand up for Leshka.

- Well, God bless him...

“But with us, whatever the tenant says is sacred.” Because he is a well-read person, he pays carefully...

- And Dunyashka is good! – the aunt twirled her horns. - I don’t understand people like this - telling lies on a boy...

- Truly! True. Just now I tell her: “Go open the door, Dunyasha,” affectionately, as if in a kind way. So she snorts in my face: “Grit, I’m not your doorman, open the door yourself!” And I sang everything to her here. How to open doors, so you, I say, are not a doorman, but how to kiss a janitor on the stairs, so you are still a doorman...

- Lord have mercy! From these years to everything I spied. The girl is young, she should live and live. One salary, no food, no...

- Me, what? I told her straight out: how to open doors, you’re not a doorman. She, you see, is not a doorman! And how to accept gifts from a janitor, she is a doorman. Yes, lipstick for the tenant...

Trrrrr...” the electric bell crackled.

- Leshka! Leshka! - the cook shouted. - Oh, you, you failed! Dunyasha was sent away, but he didn’t even listen.

Leshka held his breath, pressed himself against the wall and stood quietly until the angry cook swam past him, angrily rattling her starched skirts.

“No, pipes,” thought Leshka, “I won’t go to the village. I’m not a stupid guy, I’ll want to, so I’ll quickly curry favor. You can’t wipe me out, I’m not like that.”

And, waiting for the cook to return, he walked with decisive steps into the rooms.

“Be, grit, before our eyes. And what kind of eyes will I be when no one is ever home?

He walked into the hallway. Hey! The coat is hanging - a tenant of the house.

He rushed to the kitchen and, snatching the poker from the dumbfounded cook, rushed back into the rooms, quickly opened the door to the tenant’s room and went to stir the stove.

The tenant was not alone. With him was a young lady, wearing a jacket and a veil. Both shuddered and straightened up when Leshka entered.

“I’m not a stupid guy,” thought Leshka, poking the burning wood with a poker. “I’ll irritate those eyes.” I’m not a parasite - I’m all in business, all in business!..”

The firewood crackled, the poker rattled, sparks flew in all directions. The lodger and the lady were tensely silent. Finally, Leshka headed towards the exit, but stopped right at the door and began to anxiously examine the wet spot on the floor, then turned his eyes to the guest’s feet and, seeing the galoshes on them, shook his head reproachfully.

“Here,” he said reproachfully, “they left it behind!” And then the hostess will scold me.

The guest flushed and looked at the tenant in confusion.

“Okay, okay, go ahead,” he calmed embarrassedly.

And Leshka left, but not for long. He found a rag and returned to wipe the floor.

He found the lodger and his guest silently bending over the table and immersed in contemplation of the tablecloth.

“Look, they were staring,” thought Leshka, “they must have noticed the spot.” They think I don't understand! Found a fool! I understand. I work like a horse!”

And, approaching the thoughtful couple, he carefully wiped the tablecloth under the tenant’s very nose.

- What are you doing? - he was scared.

- Like what? I can't live without my eye. Dunyashka, the oblique devil, only knows a dirty trick, and she’s not the doorman to keep order... The janitor on the stairs...

- Go away! Idiot!

But the young lady frightenedly grabbed the tenant’s hand and spoke in a whisper.

“He’ll understand...” Leshka heard, “the servants... gossip...”

The lady had tears of embarrassment in her eyes, and in a trembling voice she said to Leshka:

- Nothing, nothing, boy... You don’t have to close the door when you go...

The tenant grinned contemptuously and shrugged.

Leshka left, but, having reached the front hall, he remembered that the lady asked not to lock the door, and, returning, opened it.

The tenant jumped away from his lady like a bullet.

“Eccentric,” Leshka thought as he left. “It’s light in the room, but he’s scared!”

Leshka walked into the hallway, looked in the mirror, and tried on the resident’s hat. Then he walked into the dark dining room and scratched the cupboard door with his nails.

- Look, you unsalted devil! You're here all day, like a horse, working, and all she knows is locking the closet.

I decided to go stir the stove again. The door to the resident's room was closed again. Leshka was surprised, but entered.

The tenant sat calmly next to the lady, but his tie was on one side, and he looked at Leshka with such a look that he only clicked his tongue:

“What are you looking at! I myself know that I’m not a parasite, I’m not sitting idly by.”

The coals are stirred, and Leshka leaves, threatening that he will soon return to close the stove. A quiet half-moan, half-sigh was his answer.

Leshka went and felt sad: he couldn’t think of any more work. I looked into the lady's bedroom. It was quiet there. The lamp glowed in front of the image. It smelled like perfume. Leshka climbed onto a chair, looked at the faceted pink lamp for a long time, crossed himself earnestly, then dipped his finger into it and oiled his hair above his forehead. Then he went to the dressing table and sniffed all the bottles in turn.

- Eh, what’s wrong! No matter how much you work, if you don’t see them, they don’t count as anything. At least break your forehead.

He wandered sadly into the hallway. In the dimly lit living room, something squeaked under his feet, then the bottom of the curtain swayed, followed by another...

"Cat! – he realized. - Look, look, back to the tenant’s room, again the lady will get mad, like the other day. You’re being naughty!..”

Joyful and animated, he ran into the treasured room.

- I am the damned one! I'll show you to hang around! I’ll turn your face right on its tail!..

The occupant had no face.

“Are you crazy, you unfortunate idiot!” - he shouted. -Who are you scolding?

“Hey, you vile one, just give him some slack, you’ll never survive,” Leshka tried. “You can’t let her into your room!” She's nothing but a scandal!..

The lady with trembling hands straightened her hat, which had slipped onto the back of her head.

“He’s kind of crazy, this boy,” she whispered in fear and embarrassment.

- Shoot, damn it! - and Leshka finally, to everyone’s reassurance, dragged the cat out from under the sofa.

“Lord,” the tenant prayed, “will you finally leave here?”

- Look, damn it, it’s scratching! It cannot be kept in rooms. Yesterday she was in the living room under the curtain...

And Leshka, at length and in detail, without hiding a single detail, without sparing fire and color, described to the amazed listeners all the dishonest behavior of the terrible cat.

His story was listened to in silence. The lady bent down and kept looking for something under the table, and the tenant, somehow strangely pressing Leshka’s shoulder, pushed the narrator out of the room and closed the door.

“I’m a smart guy,” Leshka whispered, letting the cat out onto the back stairs. - Smart and hard worker. I'll go close the stove now.

This time the tenant did not hear Leshkin’s steps: he stood in front of the lady on his knees and, bowing his head low and low to her legs, froze, without moving. And the lady closed her eyes and shrank her whole face, as if she was looking at the sun...

"What is he doing there? – Leshka was surprised. “Like he’s chewing a button on her shoe!” No... apparently he dropped something. I'll go look..."

He approached and bent down so quickly that the tenant, who had suddenly perked up, hit him painfully with his forehead right on the eyebrow.

The lady jumped up all confused. Leshka reached under the chair, searched under the table and stood up, spreading his arms.

– There’s nothing there.

- What are you looking for? What do you finally want from us? - the tenant shouted in an unnaturally thin voice and blushed all over.

“I thought they dropped something... It’ll disappear again, like the brooch of that little dark lady who comes to you for tea... The day before yesterday, when I left, I, Lyosha, lost my brooch,” he turned directly to the lady , who suddenly began to listen to him very carefully, even opened her mouth, and her eyes became completely round.

- Well, I went behind the screen on the table and found it. And yesterday I forgot my brooch again, but it wasn’t I who put it away, but Dunyashka, so that means the end of the brooch...

“By God, it’s true,” Leshka reassured her. - Dunyashka stole it, damn it. If it weren't for me, she would have stolen everything. I clean everything up like a horse... by God, like a dog...

But they didn’t listen to him. The lady quickly ran into the hallway, the tenant behind her, and both disappeared behind the front door.

Leshka went to the kitchen, where, going to bed in an old trunk without a top, he said to the cook with a mysterious look:

- Tomorrow the slash is closed.

- Well! – she was joyfully surprised. - What did they say?

- Since I’m talking, it’s become, I know.

The next day Leshka was kicked out.

Dexterity of hands

On the door of a small wooden booth, where local youth danced and performed charity performances on Sundays, there was a long red poster:

“Specially passing through, at the request of the public, a session of the grandest fakir of black and white magic.

The most amazing tricks, such as burning a handkerchief in front of one’s eyes, extracting a silver ruble from the nose of the most respectable public, and so on, contrary to nature.”

A sad head looked out of the side window and sold tickets.

It had been raining since the morning. The trees of the garden around the booth became wet, swollen, and were doused with gray, fine rain obediently, without shaking themselves off.

At the very entrance a large puddle bubbled and gurgled. Only three rubles worth of tickets were sold.

It was getting dark.

The sad head sighed, disappeared, and a small, shabby gentleman of indeterminate age crawled out of the door.

Holding his coat at the collar with both hands, he raised his head and looked at the sky from all sides.

- Not a single hole! Everything is gray! In Timashev there is a burnout, in Shchigra there is a burnout, in Dmitriev there is a burnout... In Oboyan there is a burnout, in Kursk there is a burnout... And where is there not a burnout? Where, I ask, is there no burnout? I sent an honorary card to the judge, to the head, to the police officer... I sent it to everyone. I'll go refill the lamps.

He glanced at the poster and couldn’t look away.

-What else do they want? An abscess in the head or what?

By eight o'clock they began to gather.

Either no one came to the places of honor, or servants were sent. Some drunks came to the standing places and immediately began to threaten that they would demand the money back.

By half past nine it became clear that no one else would come. And those who were sitting were all cursing so loudly and definitely that it became dangerous to delay any longer.

The magician put on a long frock coat, which became wider with each tour, sighed, crossed himself, took a box with mysterious accessories and went on stage.

He stood silently for a few seconds and thought:

“The fee is four rubles, kerosene is six hryvnia - that’s nothing, but the premises are eight rubles, so that’s already something! Golovin's son has a place of honor - let him. But how will I leave and what will I eat, I’m asking you.

And why is it empty? I would flock to such a program myself.”

- Bravo! - one of the drunks shouted.

The magician woke up. He lit a candle on the table and said:

– Dear audience! Let me give you a preface. What you see here is not anything miraculous or witchcraft, which is disgusting to our Orthodox religion and even prohibited by the police. This doesn't even happen in the world. No! Far from it! What you will see here is nothing less than dexterity and dexterity of hands. I give it to you honestly that there will be no mysterious witchcraft here. Now you will see the extraordinary appearance of a hard-boiled egg in a completely empty scarf.

He rummaged in the box and took out a colorful scarf rolled into a ball. His hands were shaking slightly.

- Please see for yourself that the scarf is completely empty. Here I am shaking it out.

He shook out the handkerchief and stretched it with his hands.

“In the morning, one bun for a penny and tea without sugar,” he thought. “What about tomorrow?”

“You can be sure,” he repeated, “that there is no egg here.”

The audience began to stir and whisper. Someone snorted. And suddenly one of the drunks boomed:

- You're lying! Here's an egg.

- Where? What? – the magician was confused.

- And tied it to a scarf with a string.

The embarrassed magician turned over the handkerchief. Indeed, there was an egg hanging on a string.

- Oh you! – someone spoke in a friendly manner. - If you go behind the candle, it wouldn’t be noticeable. And you climbed ahead! Yes, brother, you can’t.

The magician was pale and smiled crookedly.

“It’s true,” he said. “However, I warned you that this is not witchcraft, but purely sleight of hand.” Sorry, gentlemen...” his voice trembled and stopped.

- OK! OK!

– Now let’s move on to the next amazing phenomenon, which will seem even more amazing to you. Let one of the most respectable audience lend his handkerchief.

The public was shy.

Many had already taken it out, but after looking closely, they hastened to put it in their pockets.

Then the magician approached the head's son and extended his trembling hand.

“I could, of course, use my handkerchief, since it is completely safe, but you might think that I changed something.”

Golovin’s son gave him his handkerchief, and the magician unfolded it, shook it and stretched it.

- Please make sure! A completely intact scarf.

Golovin's son looked proudly at the audience.

- Now look. This scarf has become magical. So I roll it up into a tube, then I bring it to the candle and light it. Lit. The entire corner was burned off. Do you see?

The audience craned their necks.

- Right! - the drunk shouted. - It smells like burning.

“Now I’ll count to three and the scarf will be whole again.”

- Once! Two! Three!! Please take a look!

He proudly and deftly straightened out his handkerchief.

- A-ah! – the audience also gasped.

There was a huge burnt hole in the middle of the scarf.

- However! - Golovin’s son said and sniffled.

The magician pressed the handkerchief to his chest and suddenly began to cry.

- Gentlemen! Most respectable pu... No collection!.. Rain in the morning... didn’t eat... didn’t eat - a penny for a bun!

- But we’re nothing! God be with you! - the audience shouted.

- Damn us animals! The Lord is with you.

But the magician sobbed and wiped his nose with a magic handkerchief.

- Four rubles to collect... premises - eight rubles... oh-oh-oh-eighth... oh-oh-oh...

Some woman sobbed.

- That's enough for you! Oh my God! Turned my soul out! - they shouted all around.

A head in an oilskin hood poked its head through the door.

- What is this? Go home!

Everyone stood up anyway. We left. They sloshed through the puddles, were silent, and sighed.

“What can I tell you, brothers,” one of the drunks suddenly said clearly and loudly.

Everyone even paused.

- What can I tell you! After all, the scoundrel people have gone away. He will rip your money off you, and he will rip your soul out. A?

- Blow up! - someone hooted in the darkness.

- Exactly what to inflate. Come on! Who's with us? One, two... Well, march! People without any conscience... I also paid money that was not stolen... Well, we’ll show you! Zhzhiva.

Repentant

The old nanny, living in retirement in the general's family, came from confession.

I sat in my corner for a minute and was offended: the gentlemen were having dinner, there was a smell of something tasty, and I could hear the quick clatter of the maid serving the table.

- Ugh! Passionate is not Passionate, they don’t care. Just to feed your womb. You will sin unwillingly, God forgive me!

She got out, chewed, thought and went into the passage room. She sat down on the chest.

A maid passed by and was surprised.

- Why are you, nanny, sitting here? Exactly a doll! By God - exactly a doll!

- Think about what you are saying! – the nanny snapped. - Such days, and she swears. Is it appropriate to swear on such days? The man was at confession, but looking at you, you’ll have time to get dirty before communion.

The maid was scared.

- It's my fault, nanny! Congratulations on your confession.

- "Congratulations!" Nowadays they really congratulate! Nowadays they strive to offend and reproach a person. Just now their liqueur spilled. Who knows what she spilled. You won’t be smarter than God either. And the little lady says: “It’s probably the nanny who spilled it!” From such a age and such words.

– It’s even amazing, nanny! They are so small and already know everything!

- These children, mother, are worse than obstetricians! That's what they are, children of today. Me, what! I don't judge. I was at confession, now I'm up to tomorrow I won’t swallow poppy dewdrops, let alone... And you say – congratulations. There's an old lady fasting in the fourth week; I say to Sonechka: “Congratulate the little woman.” And she snorts: “Here you go!” very necessary!" And I say: “You have to respect the little woman!” The old woman will die and may be deprived of her inheritance.” Yes, if only I had some kind of woman, I would find something to congratulate every day. WITH Good morning, grandma! Yes with good weather! Yes, happy holiday! Yes, happy birthday! Have a happy bite! Me, what! I don't judge. I’m going to take communion tomorrow, all I’m saying is that it’s not good and quite shameful.

- You should rest, nanny! - the maid fawned.

“I’ll stretch my legs and lie down in a coffin.” I'm taking a rest. There will be time for you to rejoice. They would have disappeared from the world long ago, but I won’t give myself to you. The young bone crunches on the teeth, and the old bone gets stuck in the throat. You won't eat it.

- And what are you, nanny! And everyone is just looking at you, how to respect you.

- No, don’t tell me about respecters. You have respect, but no one respected me even from a young age, so in my old age it’s too late for me to be ashamed. Better than the coachman over there, go and ask where he took the lady the other day... That’s what you ask.

- Oh, what are you talking about, nanny! – the maid whispered and even squatted down in front of the old woman. -Where did he take it? I, by God, don’t tell anyone...

- Don’t be afraid. It's a sin to swear! For godlessness, you know how God will punish you! And he took me to a place where they show men moving. They move and sing. They spread out a sheet, and they move around on it. The little lady told me. You see, it’s not enough on her own, so she took the girl too. I would have found out myself, taken a good twig and driven it along Zakharyevskaya! There's just no one to tell. Do the people of today understand the lies? Nowadays, everyone only cares about themselves. Ugh! Whatever you remember, you will sin! Lord forgive me!

“The master is a busy man, of course, it’s hard for him to see everything,” the maid sang, modestly lowering her eyes. - They are pretty people.

- I know your master! I've known it since childhood! If I didn’t have to go to communion tomorrow, I would tell you about your master! Been like this since childhood! People are going to mass - ours has not yet recovered. People from the church are coming - ours is drinking tea and coffee. And I just can’t imagine how the Holy Mother, a lazy, free-spirited man, managed to reach the level of a general! I really think: he stole this rank for himself! Wherever he is, he stole it! There’s just no one to try! And I’ve been realizing for a long time that I stole it. They think: the nanny is an old fool, so with her everything is possible! Stupid, maybe even stupid. But not everyone can be smart, someone needs to be stupid.

The maid looked back at the door in fear.

- Our business, nanny, is official. God be with him! Let go! It's not for us to sort it out. Will you go to church early in the morning?

“I may not go to bed at all.” I want to come to church before everyone else. So that all sorts of rubbish does not get ahead of people. Every cricket knows its nest.

- Who is it that’s climbing?

- Yes, the old lady is alone here. Chilling, in which the soul is held. God forgive me, the scoundrel will come to the church before everyone else, and he will leave later than everyone else. One day he will outlast everyone. And I would like to sit down for a minute! All of us old women are surprised. No matter how hard you try, while the clock reads, you will sit down a little. And this vitriol is nothing other than on purpose. Is it enough to just survive! One old woman almost burned her handkerchief with a candle. And it’s a pity that it didn’t burn. Don't stare! Why stare! Is it indicated to stare? Tomorrow I’ll come before everyone else and stop it, so I’ll probably reduce the momentum. I can't see her! I’m on my knees today, and I keep looking at her. You're a viper, I think you're a viper! May your water bubble burst! It’s a sin, but there’s nothing you can do about it.

“It’s okay, nanny, now that you’ve confessed, you’ve forgiven your priest’s ass all his sins.” Now your darling is pure and innocent.

- Yes, the hell with it! Let go! This is a sin, but I must say: this priest confessed me poorly. When I went to the monastery with my aunt and princess, I can say that I confessed. He tortured me, tortured me, reproached me, reproached me, imposed three penances! I asked everything. He asked if the princess was thinking of renting out the meadows. Well, I repented and said that I don’t know. And this one is alive soon. Why am I sinful? Well, I say, father, what are my sins. The oldest women. I love Kofiy and quarrel with the servants. “Aren’t there any special ones,” he says? What are the special ones? Each person has his own special sin. That's what. And instead of trying and shaming him, he took a vacation and read it. That's all for you! I suppose he took the money. I suppose he didn’t give change because I didn’t have much! Ugh, God forgive me! If you remember, you will sin! Save and have mercy. Why are you sitting here? It would be better if I walked and thought: “How can I live like this and everything is not good?” Girl you are young! There's a crow's nest on her head! Have you thought about what days it is? On such days, let yourself be allowed to do so. And there is no way around you, shameless ones! Having confessed, I came, let me - I thought - I’ll sit quietly. Tomorrow I have to go and take communion. No. And then she got there. She came and said all sorts of nasty things, worse than anything. Damn washcloth, God forgive me. Look, I went with such force! Not long, mother! I know everything! Give it time, I’ll drink everything to the lady! - Go and rest. God forgive me, someone else will get attached!