Two briefcases to read, he and shoo. Yuz Aleshkovsky “Shoo, Two Briefcases and the Whole Week”

...Once Yuz Aleshkovsky was asked if he had himself in mind when he wrote about the adventures of Alyosha - Dvaportfel, Seryozha Tsarapkin and other boys? “Not at all,” said the writer, “we are dissolving in the chemistry of creativity!” And yet... Those who know Yuz Aleshkovsky will immediately see the similarity of his teenage heroes with the writer himself. Because he is just like them. Straightforward. Honest. Not tolerant of injustice. But he knows how to forgive.

Natalia Bogatyreva

Dear Guys!

Many of you have read books about wonderful dogs - the strong and brave White Fang, the clever Kashtanka and the devoted Mukhtar. The little puppy Kysh, about whom I am writing, is not yet an outstanding dog. But for her owner Alyosha Seroglazov, she is the smartest, most devoted dog in the world. First-grader Alyosha, for whom a completely new life as a schoolboy has begun, and curious Kysh find it difficult not to get into various troubles. To the great joy of the author, they end happily, because at the most difficult moment Alyosha did not betray Kysh, and Kysh believed that his true friend Alyosha would help him out of trouble.

I really want you to love man’s friends, be it a gray sparrow, a small fish or a huge elephant. Who knows, it may happen that one of you, when you become adults, will have to set foot on a new planet for the first time and meet unknown animals there. Let them know that the person came to them as a friend, with kindness and love.

Yuz Aleshkovsky

I dedicate it to my son Alyosha.

It was my first day off, because for the first time in my life I spent a whole week in first grade.

I didn’t know how to start such a day, so I decided to imitate my dad: when I woke up, I put my hands under my head and stared out the window.

Dad once said that on Sunday morning, since he doesn’t have to rush to work, he thinks about all sorts of things and how the whole week went. What was more in it - good or bad? And if there is more bad, then who is to blame for this: dad himself or, as he likes to say, a coincidence of circumstances?

There was more bad stuff in my first week of school. And not because of me, but because of circumstances that began to accumulate a long time ago.

If I had been born even two days later, I would have turned seven years old not on the thirty-first of August, but on the second of September, and I would not have been accepted into school. But dad already had to persuade the head teacher. And the head teacher agreed to accept me on a probationary period.

I was the youngest and smallest student in the entire school.

At Children's World they bought me the smallest uniform, but when I tried it on in the booth it turned out that it was too big. Mom asked to take off the uniform from an unborn first-grader who was standing in the window and smiling, but mom was persuaded to refuse this request and advised to change the uniform. They also gave her advice on what to feed me so that I would grow faster.

Mom shortened the trousers herself, and kept the cap in hot water all night, then pulled it over the pan and ironed it, but it still fell over my eyes.

In general, on the first of September I went to school, and at the very first break, the tallest boy in our class, Misha Lvov, measured me from head to toe with my own briefcase. He measured it and immediately gave me the nickname Twoportfolio. And he gave himself the nickname Tiger. Because of the surname Lvov.

Even high school students got my nickname. During breaks they looked at me and were surprised:

- Two briefcases!

– Indeed, Two Briefcases!

They didn’t tease me, but still I felt the greatest resentment of all that I received in the nursery, in the kindergarten, in the yard and at home.

I would go somewhere to the side, not play with anyone, and I was so bored that I wanted to cry.

True, one day a high school student came up to me, stroked my head and said:

- Two briefcases, don’t hang your nose. The time will come, and you will become four briefcases, then five, and then eight. You'll see. And during recess, don’t stand in one place. Knead your bones. And don't be afraid of anyone. If they start to scare you, flare your nostrils. They'll leave right away. I've always done this. I am Olya.

“And I’m Alyosha,” I said, and Olya showed how to flare the nostrils.

But no matter how much I fanned them out later, it didn’t scare anyone, and my ears were buzzing with shouting:

- Two briefcases! Two briefcases!

I hated Tigger for this nickname. It was good for Dadaev. They called him Dada! Kapustin - Head of cabbage. Galya Pelenkin, as a Brazilian football player, is Pele. Gusev's name is Tyoga-tyoga, and he is very happy. Lenyu Katsa - Katso. One me - Two briefcases.

Nothing! Maybe over time they will all get tired of such a long nickname and only Fe-lya will remain from him. Felya! It's not bad…

So I lay there and thought, and suddenly I began to stare... In front of my window, in one place, just like a helicopter, there was a sparrow hanging and suddenly - bang! He hit the glass, fell on the ledge, then jumped up again, fluttered and tried to peck at something.

Then I saw a large blue fly that flew into the room and wanted to fly back. She buzzed, darted around the glass, then fell silent, as if losing consciousness, and again began to spin on the glass, as if on a skating rink.

“Here is a stupid sparrow,” I thought, “he sees a fly right next to his beak, but cannot peck. He is probably angry and surprised how, out of the blue, such warm moving air became hard and cold. And the fly is surprised that everything is transparent, but it’s impossible to fly away.”

Suddenly the sparrow scattered once again and flew into the room through the window like a bullet. I screamed, waved the blanket - he got scared, made a circle near the ceiling, flew back and fluttered on the glass next to the fly.

And somehow I felt sorry for both the sparrow and the fly. Day off... The morning is so good, and they got caught...

I jumped out of bed and opened the window.

- Fly, you fools, mind your own business! You won’t understand that it’s not the air around that has solidified, but the glass that’s transparent. But I understand, because I am a human!

So I said out loud, looked out the window, and I also wanted to go outside.

As I thought, my mother was not at home. A long, long time ago, when her grandmother was still alive, she agreed with her dad that Sunday before lunch was her day. At this time, my dad and I were left to our own devices. Dad was lying on the sofa bed the same way I had just been lying and thinking.

- There is no rain. “We need to get up and go somewhere,” I said.

Dad glanced sideways at me and didn’t answer.

- Well, how was your week? (Dad was silent.) Was there more bad stuff?

“There were both good and bad,” dad finally responded. – But, in general, the whole week was gray. Dullness is the worst thing that can happen. In my opinion, it’s no coincidence that spiders and rats are... brrr... gray...

- And the elephants? – I objected.

– Elephants are silver-gray. This is a completely different matter. Both airships and airplanes are also silver-gray,” dad clarified.

I have had many good weeks in my life, few bad ones, like the first school week, but a gray week is already something new. When we went to wash, I asked:

- So everything was gray? And business too?

– Since thoughts are gray, it means that deeds are gray.

- Well, what about the weather?

– I think I said that everything was gray!

Dad took my palms in his and whipped up a thick pink foam. I myself have never been able to lather my hands like that.

“You’re confusing something,” I noted, “the weather this week was sunny.” No clouds, no rain.

– Shall we stand here and talk? Do you want Sunday to be gray too? Rinse off the soap quickly!

- Or maybe it’s your own fault that everything was gray? – I guessed.

Dad mumbled something because he already had a toothbrush in his mouth, made scary eyes and pushed me out of the bathroom with his free hand.

While he was shaving, the tea boiled. We made scrambled eggs with lard and onions ourselves. Dad knew when to cover the frying pan with a bowl and how high the heat was to turn out the scrambled eggs high and fluffy.

Electronic reading diary

Author of the reader's diary

Information/Annotation about the book/books read

Book cover illustration

About the author of the book

Yuz Aleshkovsky, sketch for a portrait - artist Mikhail Sazhaev

Yuz Aleshkovsky (real name Joseph Efimovich Aleshkovsky; born September 21, 1929, Krasnoyarsk, RSFSR) is a Russian prose writer, poet and bard.

Since 1979 he has lived in the USA. Laureate of the Pushkin Prize (2001).

About the book editor

About the illustrator

Ilya Savchenkov

Graduated from the Moscow Art University in memory of 1905 and the Moscow Printing Institute, department of the KhTOPP. Collaborated with the publishing houses "ROSMEN", "AST", "DROFA", "MALYSH", "MAKHAON"

“I like to design books that have adventures, funny situations, cheerful and resourceful characters. With such books you live another life, you visualize events that sometimes could not even happen in real life! Creating something that doesn’t exist is actually fun and interesting!”

About film adaptations

“Shoot and Two Briefcases” is a feature film for children. Screen adaptation of Yuz Aleshkovsky’s story “Shoot, Two Briefcases and a Whole Week.”

The heroes of the film are first-graders Snezhana Sokolova and Alyosha Seroglazov, who received the nickname “Two Briefcases” because of their small stature on the first day of school, as well as a small puppy Kysh, who, as it turned out, needs to be protected and raised in order to be left at home forever.

Director: Eduard Gavrilov, screenwriter: Yuz (Joseph) Aleshkovsky, cameraman: Georgy Kupriyanov, composer: Ian Frenkel, artist: Nikolai Usachev

Promotional video (if available)

Famous quotes from the book

1. Discipline is doing what you are told to do.

2. Moms are always more beautiful than dads... And don’t argue! That's why dads marry them.

Awards received by the book/author

2001 - winner of the Pushkin Prize

About the genre of the book

Children's prose

This is an amazing book: a detective story, a school story, a story about animals, a guide to raising a puppy, and a history textbook - all under one title.

Links to information sources

Word cloud "Shoot and Twoportfolios"

KYSH AND TWO PORTFOLIO: Stories

Dear Guys!

Many of you have read books about wonderful dogs - the strong and brave White Fang, the clever Kashtanka and the devoted Mukhtar. The little puppy Kysh, about whom I am writing, is not yet an outstanding dog. But for her owner Alyosha Seroglazov, she is the smartest, most devoted dog in the world. First-grader Alyosha, for whom a completely new life as a schoolboy has begun, and curious Kysh find it difficult not to get into various troubles. To the great joy of the author, they end happily, because at the most difficult moment Alyosha did not betray Kysh, and Kysh believed that his true friend Alyosha would help him out of trouble.

I really want you to love man’s friends, be it a gray sparrow, a small fish or a huge elephant. Who knows, maybe one of you, when you become adults, will have to set foot on a new planet for the first time and meet unknown animals there. Let them know that the person came to them as a friend, with kindness and love.

SW ALESHKOVSKY

DOUBLE PORTFOLIO

AND A WHOLE WEEK

CHAPTER 1

It was my first day off, because for the first time in my life I spent a whole week in first grade.

I didn’t know how to start such a day, and so I decided to imitate my dad: when I woke up, I put my hands under my head and stared out the window.

Dad once said that on Sunday morning, since he doesn’t have to rush to work, he thinks about all sorts of things and how the whole week went. What was more in it - good or bad? And if there is more bad, then who is to blame for this: dad himself or, as he likes to say, a coincidence of circumstances?

There was more bad stuff in my first week of school. And not because of me, but because of circumstances that began to accumulate a long time ago.

If I had been born even two days later, I would have turned seven years old not on the thirty-first of August, but on the second of September, and I would not have been accepted into school. But dad already had to persuade the head teacher. And the head teacher agreed to accept me on a probationary period.

I was the youngest and smallest student in the entire school.

At Children's World they bought me the smallest uniform, but when I tried it on in the booth it turned out that it was too big. Mom asked to take off the uniform from an unborn first-grader who was standing in the window and smiling, but mom was persuaded to refuse this request and advised to change the uniform. They also gave her advice on what to feed me so that I would grow faster.

Mom shortened the trousers herself, and kept the cap in hot water all night, then pulled it over the pan and ironed it, but it still fell over my eyes.

In general, on the first of September I went to school, and at the very first break, the tallest boy in our class, Misha Lvov, measured me from head to toe with my own briefcase. He measured it and immediately gave me the nickname Twoportfolio. And he gave himself the nickname Tiger. Because of the surname Lvov. Even high school students got my nickname. During breaks they looked at me and were surprised:

Two briefcases!

Indeed, Two Briefcases!

They didn’t tease me, but still I felt the greatest resentment of all that I received in the nursery, in kindergarten, in the yard and at home.

I would go somewhere to the side, not play with anyone, and I was so bored that I wanted to cry.

True, one day a high school student came up to me, stroked my head and said:

Two briefcases, don't hang your nose. The time will come, and you will become four briefcases, then five, and then eight. Look! And during recess, don’t stand in one place. Knead your bones. And don't be afraid of anyone. If they start to scare you, flare your nostrils. They'll leave right away. I've always done this. I am Olya.

“And I’m Alyosha,” I said, and Olya showed how to flare the nostrils.

But no matter how much I fanned them out later, it didn’t scare anyone, and my ears were buzzing with shouting:

Two briefcases! Two briefcases!

I hated Tigger for this nickname.

It was good for Dadaev. They called him Dada! Kapustin - Head of cabbage. Galya Pelenkin, as a Brazilian football player, is Pele. Gusev's name is Tega-tega, and he is very happy. Lenyu Katsa - Katso. One me - Two briefcases.

Nothing! Maybe over time they will all get tired of such a long nickname, and only Felya will remain from him. Felya! It's not bad…

So I lay there and thought, and suddenly I began to stare... In front of my window, in one place, just like a helicopter, a sparrow was hanging and suddenly - bang! He hit the glass, fell on the ledge, then jumped up again, fluttered and tried to peck at something.

Then I saw a large blue fly that flew into the room and wanted to fly back. She buzzed, darted around the glass, then fell silent, as if losing consciousness, and again began to spin on the glass, as if on a skating rink.

“Here is a stupid sparrow,” I thought, “he sees a fly right next to his beak, but cannot peck. He is probably angry and surprised how, out of the blue, such warm moving air became hard and cold. And the fly is surprised that everything is transparent, but it’s impossible to fly away.”

Suddenly the sparrow scattered once again and flew into the room through the window like a bullet. I screamed, waved the blanket - he got scared, made a circle near the ceiling, flew back and fluttered on the glass next to the fly.

And somehow I felt sorry for both the sparrow and the fly. Day off... The morning is so good, and they got caught...

I jumped out of bed and opened the window.

Go about your business, you fools! You won’t understand that it’s not the air around that has solidified, but the glass that’s transparent. But I understand, because I am a human!

So I said out loud, looked out the window, and I also wanted to go outside.

CHAPTER 2

As I thought, my mother was not at home. A long time ago, when her grandmother was still alive, she agreed with her dad that Sunday before lunch was her day. At this time, my dad and I were left to our own devices.

Dad was lying on the sofa bed the same way I had just been lying and thinking.

There is no rain. “We need to get up and go somewhere,” I said.

Dad glanced sideways at me and didn’t answer.

Well, how was your week? (Dad was silent.) Was there more bad stuff?

There was both good and bad,” dad finally responded. - But, in general, the whole week was gray. Dullness is the worst thing that can happen. In my opinion, it’s no coincidence that spiders and rats are... brrr... gray...

What about elephants? - I objected.

Elephants are silver-gray. This is a completely different matter. And airships and planes are also silver-gray,” dad clarified.

I have had many good weeks in my life, few bad ones, like the first school week, but a gray week is already something new. When we went to wash, I asked:

So everything was gray? And business too?

Since thoughts are gray, it means that deeds are gray.

Well, what about the weather?

I think I said that everything was gray!

Dad took my palms in his and whipped up a thick pink foam. I myself have never been able to lather my hands like that.

“You’re confusing something,” I noted, “the weather this week was sunny.” No clouds, no rain.

Shall we stand here and talk? Do you want Sunday to be gray too? Rinse off the soap quickly!

Or maybe it’s your own fault that everything was gray? - I guessed.

Dad mumbled something because he already had a toothbrush in his mouth, made scary eyes and pushed me out of the bathroom with his free hand.

While he was shaving, the tea boiled. We made scrambled eggs with lard and onions ourselves. Dad knew when to cover the frying pan with a bowl and how high the heat was to turn out the scrambled eggs high and fluffy.

What was your week like? - Dad asked. - After all, she is not simple. She must be remembered for the rest of her life.

“I remember,” I said, stuffing my mouth full.

Who are you sitting at the desk with?

With Tega,” I said.

Strange surname! - Dad was surprised. - Maybe he's French? Then the correct thing is not Tega, but Teg A. There was such an artist as Degas.

The correct surname of Tags is Gusev. I don’t know why Tega.

Of course, Gusev! Tega-tag! This is how they call geese in the village,” Dad realized, laughing. - Well, what was your name?

I didn’t answer, taking a sip of tea. And dad probably decided not to ask me about my studies on his day off.

After breakfast, he said decisively:

I realized what we must do! Not even to do, but to do! Something unusual! Something out of the ordinary! And then all the grayness will disappear.

Listen, did I seem gray to you all week too? - I asked.

You looked purple to me! “You even had ink on your ears,” said dad.

“Mom is always beautiful,” Dad said sternly.

Or maybe your last name is Seroglazov, I suddenly realized, because you see everything in gray?

The surname has nothing to do with a person’s mood,” said dad. - Get ready quickly.

Kysha's heart beat quickly and often. Then I unbuttoned my shirt and put my hand to my chest. My heart beat even faster than Keesh’s.
- You and I are cowards! - I said, and I didn’t want to go for a walk. Besides, I had to do my homework. Write dashes, hooks and other lines from letters and numbers in your notebook.

18

Before sitting down to study, I took the key and went to check the mailbox. It seemed to me that there was something white in it through the hole.
Dad picked up the newspapers in the morning, and it was probably a letter or the ninth issue of the Young Naturalist. I really loved this magazine and it always arrived on time. It contained many interesting pictures and photographs of different animals.
I tied the guy to the radiator again so that he wouldn’t get into trouble, and went down to the second floor.
On the site, in front of the public mailbox, surrounding the postman, for some reason our neighbors were making noise. I opened the door with the key. Our box was empty. The neighbors looked at me suspiciously.
– Tell me, have “Funny Pictures” and “Young Naturalist” already sold out the ninth issue? – I asked the postwoman.
- Well, they stole “The Naturalist”! If you have a thief, I have nothing to do with it. I’ve been working for ten years and have no complaints,” said the postwoman.
Actually, newspapers and magazines sometimes disappeared from our boxes before, but this was rare. And today and last week, it turns out, “Ogonyok” by Sizov, “Health” by Krotkina, “Floriculture” and “Beekeeping” by Babajanyan have disappeared.
In addition, newspapers with circulation tables for the clothing lottery regularly disappeared.
- Horror! It’s hard for me to believe that the person from our entrance is capable of this! - said Krotkina.
-Why are you looking at me? – Unable to bear it, I became indignant. - They steal from you!
- And I have nothing to do with it! Figure it out yourself,” the postwoman said and left.
“We need to establish surveillance of the boxes,” suggested Babajanyan.
- After all, the scoundrels have the key to the common lock. They steal in bulk, even if you don’t sign up,” said pensioner Sizov.
I am going home. I was sad too. You wait and wait a whole month for a new issue, and they steal it from under your nose.
- Shoo! - I said when I returned. - Let's catch this bad man! I can't handle it on my own. I have no sense of smell, but you can take the trail. Will we catch it?
“Rr-s! My famous great-great-great-grandfather never caught anything like that!” – Shoo was delighted and sneezed twice, as if he was clearing his nose for a better sniffing of the trail.
I had no time for lessons anymore. I imagined how Kysh hunts down the thieves of newspapers and magazines. How we chase after them, and they shoot back and wound Kysh. But they are arrested, and Kysh is taken to surgery by ambulance helicopter. And this is where I give my blood to Kysha for a transfusion, because he lost a lot when he was wounded...
Shoo walked next to me and sensed what I was thinking: he growled and barked knowingly.
“Now we need to think about how to track him down,” I told him.
“So figure it out. You have a head for this, and I’ll sniff,” answered Shoo.

19

First, I still cleaned up the apartment, wiped up new puddles and even smoothed out my dad’s tie, which Keesh had chewed, with an iron. At the same time, there was a slight smell of something fried, and the white stars on the tie disappeared in one place.
Then I set a clock in front of me to see how long it would take me to figure out how to track down the magazine thief, sat down and began to think.
And in exactly twelve minutes he came up with a cunning trap.
I took the old magazine “Knowledge is Power”, which looked like new, took out a bone from under Kyshev’s mattress, sniffed it myself and rubbed it on the cover of the magazine. Then he went out and, unnoticed, when no one was on the site, he put the bone-smelling magazine in our mailbox.
Now we had to wait patiently for the magazine to be stolen and notice it in time. If a thief lives in our entrance, then it’s impossible that Kysh won’t find him by the smell of his best, favorite bone. True, the smell would be stronger from fish oil, but suddenly Kysh doesn’t like fish oil like I do.
“There would be a trap, and the thief would fall into it,” I said to Kysh when I returned.

20

When mom and dad came home from work, I told them everything about the trap and asked them not to take the magazine out of the box.
I got it for not having time to do my homework. And for everything that Kysh did, I was unexpectedly not scolded. Mom only sternly reminded me about the probationary period and was not surprised when I, pulling the string, said to Kysh:
- Light!
He jumped and the chandelier lit up.
Dad was not happy about this. He was angry and unshaven and looked askance at Kysh with hostility.
Suddenly my mother noticed a sheaf of red sunlight shining through the window. Shoo sat at the end of this sheaf right in the center of a large bunny and wagged his tail. Dad looked and didn’t understand anything. I didn't understand either.
– Shoo wags his tail and raises all the dust in the apartment. She stands like a pillar. “You can see everything in the rays,” my mother explained.
Then, of course, my dad and I noticed how billions of dust particles were flying in the sun’s ray, raised into the air by Kysh’s wagging tail.
“It’s a new thing,” my mother said gloomily. “Now everything will be in dust.” And I will follow Kysh with a rag and wipe everything off. Thank you!
- Get to your place! – I shouted to Kysh, stomping my foot.
He trudged out of the room with his tail between his legs, not understanding why I shouted at him.
And dad wanted to get even for not giving him a bone, and for the fact that he was unshaven. He told mom:
– One of two things: either we will fight the dust together every day, or we will amputate our dog’s tail. Let’s reduce the wobbling moment, so to speak, to nothing, and everything will be fine. And in general: if a puppy brings so much inconvenience into our lives, then perhaps we should find new owners for it? “Dad was starting to leave. – Do you want to stay for a second year in first grade? Why didn't you do your homework? Do you think training a puppy is more important than teaching yourself? He already turns on the light himself, but you still can’t learn to read the syllables!
- Why did they send me to school? I'm the smallest one in it! They tease me with Two Briefcases! It was necessary to write in the metrics that I was born on the second of September, and not the thirty-first of August. “I wish I could go to kindergarten for another year and learn to read,” I said and immediately regretted it.
- So, then, if you could speak then, you would have advised me to falsify your metrics? Do you regret that you didn’t deceive the state earlier in your life? – Dad asked quietly.
I shook my head because I didn't remember ever having such a desire.
Mom listened to all this in silence. She and dad - I realized even earlier - had an agreement: when he scolds me, she is silent, and when she is, dad is silent.
“Mitya, if you’ve finished, then I’ll say something,” mom finally intervened.
- No! - Dad became stubborn. – The conversation is far from over! A whole school week has passed, and in your notebooks there are blots and some worms instead of straight lines! Perhaps your hand is shaking?
“She somehow doesn’t move,” I said.
– Did your hand move when you disassembled my movie camera?
“It was moving,” I said.
“In short, everything is clear to me,” said dad, and after that he unexpectedly demanded that during the next day, Kysh should be trained not to make puddles on the floor.
- Mitya! “Let’s go get some fresh air,” my mother suddenly suggested.
This meant that she did not want me to be present during her serious conversation with dad.
“It’s cold there,” Dad said, shivering.
- Put on your coat.
- But it’s on the floors.
- And you get it. “It’s time,” Mom said, and Dad, on top of everything else, had to get his coat, and I had to hold the stepladder again.
Then they went away to get some fresh air.
Shoo lay sadly on the mattress. He seemed to feel guilty.
“Tomorrow I’ll tie him up when I go to school, until he gets used to not making a mess everywhere,” I thought and looked out the window.
Mom and Dad slowly walked around the park. Dad was passionately trying to prove something, waving his arms.
I sat down to study and started a new notebook. And Kysh stood behind the chair that stood in front of my table and watched as I drew lines and zeroes with a pen and dipped my pen in ink. He stuck out his tongue out of interest, but did not bother me. On the contrary, I got several very even sticks with good pressure and very few blots. Then I learned to read syllables.
Then mom and dad returned. Dad said:
“If I had known, I would never have eaten a ton of salt with this man!” Traitor of friendship!
“Still, I think you’re wrong,” said my mother. “And until you admit it, you will be angry.”
- Never! Ooh! Never! – Dad exclaimed and checked my notebooks.
Before going to bed, I asked which of his friends turned out to be a traitor to friendship.
“Uncle Sergei Sergeev,” said dad.
- So it turns out that a pound of salt was wasted?
– Are there any other questions? – Dad asked dryly.
We had an agreement: in order not to pester my dad with different questions every ten minutes, I had to save them all day and in the evening ask them all at once.
-What is a pygmy? – I asked.
“I’ll answer this question tomorrow,” said dad. – Is everything else clear?
– Why is Uncle Sergei Sergeev a traitor? What did he do?
– When you become an adult, you will understand! - said dad. – And in vain you are offended by the nickname of Two Briefcases. A wonderful and very rare nickname. Only Indians have these. Do you remember I read about an Indian? His name was "He Dyes His Hair Red." So don't be offended.
– What was your nickname in first grade?
- Bun. They called me Bulka because I loved to eat in class. Then I lost the habit. Well, go to sleep, said dad...

21

In the morning before school, I did exactly as I planned: I tied up Kysh. He placed a bowl of milk and a saucer of water next to him and cut off a piece of sausage.
“Don’t even think about chewing through the rope,” I told him. “I, too, have to sit at my desk for forty-five minutes, tied down.” And the changes are small. In class, if you turn the wrong way, they immediately reprimand you. And you won’t leave the classroom until the bell rings. Understood?
“Rr-s! I didn't understand anything. Go now, otherwise you’ll be late again!” - said Shoo, and I went to school, but this time I was not late.
The excavator engine was started without me. He puffed, sending blue rings into the sky, and the driver was attaching a huge piece of iron, similar to a bomb, to the boom instead of a bucket...
In class, Snezhka immediately attacked me:
- Why did you run away from everyone yesterday and leave me?
“Shoo was hungry and very poor,” I told her.
- Don't do that again. We must say goodbye.
When the lesson started, Snezhka told me:
“Let’s bet that I’ll swallow and eat a saber during class!”
- What can we bet on? – I asked, without even having time to think about where Snezhka got the saber.
I knew that some people swallow them from my dad’s stories about the circus.
“Let’s argue whatever you want,” said Snowball. – “American” is the name of such a dispute.
Veta Pavlovna was looking in the other direction at that very moment. We shook hands, and Olya Danova, nicknamed Oga, separated our hands.
Snow pulled out an object wrapped in greasy paper from her briefcase and placed it on her lap.
– Maybe we shouldn’t swallow in class? Let’s wait for a break,” I whispered.
“I didn’t have time to have breakfast,” Snow said and took out a piece of bread. - Saber tastes better with bread. Well look!
I opened my mouth with excitement, and Snezhka pulled out something rusty-blue-silver from the paper, only without a pen. She took a bite, chewed and swallowed. Then she took another bite and said with her mouth full:
- This is a saber, but only fried fish. Didn't you guess? You lose!
I burst into laughter for the whole class, and Veta Pavlovna immediately came up to our desk:
- Seroglazov! Why are you laughing? Get up!
“I felt funny,” I told the truth, because I promised my dad never to lie to the teachers.
- Why is it funny? Are you silent? Sit down. Snezhana Sokolova, stand up. What's going on here?
Snow quickly managed to swallow everything and said:
– Can I explain it in your ear?
- No you can not. It’s not good to whisper in front of everyone and it’s not nice.
Then Snezhka fearlessly told how she bet with me that she would eat a saber with bread in class because she didn’t have time to have breakfast at home, and showed the whole class a half-eaten piece of this overseas fish.
“And there is also fried captain fish in the store,” Snezhka added, and all the guys and Veta Pavlovna laughed for a long time.
But suddenly Veta Pavlovna frowned, sat down at the table, thought and asked:
– Who will answer me: what is discipline?
“This is when you have to do what you’re forced to do,” Snezhka rattled off, raising her hand.
“So that’s it: forced is not the right word,” said Veta Pavlovna. “I really don’t want to force you to study, to force you to listen to me carefully, and not eat a fried saber.” Encourage students to write cleanly, count and read well. You have to do it yourself - you understand! – study well and behave well. Why do you need to study well? Who will tell us? Please, Misha Lvov!
“You need to study well in order to know everything,” said Tigger.
– Why do you want to know everything?
“Interesting,” said Tigger.
– Why do you need good discipline? (Many guys raised their hands.) Olya Danova will answer us.
“Bad discipline interferes with learning,” said Oga quietly, who separated our hands during an argument.
– Snezhana Sokolova! Now do you understand what discipline is?
“I guessed it,” said Snowball. – This is when you force yourself to do something good.
- Well done! By the way, you could have asked permission, and I would have allowed you to quietly eat the fried saber. And we wouldn’t have lost so much time because of her. Seroglazov, do you understand why you can’t laugh for no reason in class?
“So as not to interfere with others’ learning, even if it’s funny,” I answered.
- Well done! Sit down.
Veta Pavlovna continued the lesson.
“If she told dad and mom that I’m doing great, that would be really good,” I thought.

22

During recess Tigger came up to me and asked:
- Two briefcases! Well, how is your puppy?
He probably forgot when he said Two Briefcases, and looked fearfully at the angry Snowy. But I answered Tigre without offense:
- The puppy is good. Funny. He just doesn't have enough discipline. It doesn't do everything you make it do.
- Eh! – for some reason Tigger said and ran into the corridor.
I explained to Snezhka that my nickname was rare. It is like the Indians, and I will respond to it.
- As you wish, Alexey. Have you forgotten about the dispute?
I agreed that I lost, although the saber was fried, and asked what Snow’s wish should be fulfilled.
– I’ll tell you at the last lesson. We have to come up with something else,” said Snowball.
During the big break, I again, like yesterday, quickly ran home.
Shoo didn’t rush towards me and didn’t wag his tail. He didn’t touch the milk, water or a piece of sausage. He lay with his muzzle buried in his front paws, just like at the Poultry Market when he was being sold. I squatted down and, pushing back my bangs with my hand, looked into Kysh’s eyes. They were dark brown and wet, like cherries after rain. Shoo was really offended by me. I stroked him and said:
- Shoo! First I force you and teach you discipline, and then you will get used to it and force yourself. And it’s like that with us people too. On the first of September, during class, I took it and left the class. Without asking. But they caught me, put me in my seat and told me to sit until the bell rang. In general, they tied you up like I tied you. And now I understand everything and I don’t leave the class until the break. You'll thank me again. And don't be offended. I’m not offended by Veta Pavlovna. She is good and kind. And I am also good and kind. But if I untie you, you will definitely chew or break something?
“Rr-ah!” - Kysh agreed.
- That's it. Be healthy. “I’ll be there soon,” I said, wiped up the puddle near the radiator and ran to school.
At the entrance I managed to look into the mailbox. The trap magazine was not stolen...

23

During the last lesson, I suddenly started thinking: why do cats, who are dumber than dogs, understand that they need to “walk” into a box of sand, but puppies don’t understand this and are taken outside? What if the owner, for example, went to school for the whole day, and no one is home? That's bad. We need to come up with an invention!..
...Veta Pavlovna was explaining something, and I was drawing boxes for puppies in a handwriting notebook. And suddenly I thought of an invention. But, having forgotten myself, from joy and also from the fact that I had been thinking about Kysha for a long time, I barked:
- A-aw!
I, too, like Snowball, forgot about discipline for a second, and this is what happened.
Then there was such laughter in the class that the head teacher, who was passing along the corridor, looked into the class.
Out of grief and fear, I was ready to fall through the ground.
But Veta Pavlovna did not scold me in front of the head teacher. She explained something to him quietly. The head teacher looked at me, for some reason sighed and left the class.
- Seroglazov! Does your dad only work during the day? – Veta Pavlovna asked.
“Yes,” I answered and wanted to fall through the ground even more.
“It’ll hit you,” Snezhka whispered. “But I will come and stand up for you.” I know why you barked. You were thinking about the puppy. And in kindergarten I also meowed when I missed my cat Tsapka. Who is scarier to you - the head teacher or the director?
“Head teacher,” I answered and motioned for Snezhka to shut up.
I had no time to talk. I tied up Shoy for discipline, but I myself don’t listen to explanations, invent a toilet for puppies and, most importantly, bark right in the lesson. Wow puppy teacher! Veta Pavlovna will come in the evening, tell mom and dad about everything, and then - goodbye Shoo!.. But no! I won't allow this!
Evil took hold of me, and I forced myself to listen carefully to the lesson.
Veta Pavlovna called me to repeat it three times, and I repeated it without error. The third time she said that I could be disciplined and smart. You just need to want it the right way, and I will always be great.
“That’s what I love most, when first they scold and then praise,” Snezhka, unable to resist, whispered again and received a remark.
– Snezhana Sokolova! - said Veta Pavlovna. - I'll move you to another desk. But you promised to have a good influence on Sepoglazov!
“I’m the one who accidentally forgets about discipline the last few times.” “Soon I won’t receive a single comment,” Snezhka promised.
“We’ll see,” Veta Pavlovna said, lined us up in pairs and warned us not to run away without asking, like Alyosha Seroglazov did yesterday.
But I wouldn’t run away myself. I tried not to forget about discipline.
In the corridor near the wall newspaper, high school girls were again crowding, and Rudik Baryshkin was telling them something. And no one knew that yesterday he set a big angry dog ​​on little Kysh...
On the street, Snezhka finally told me her wish. She wanted me to bring a puppy to school tomorrow.
- Straight to class? – I was horrified.
But Snezhka agreed that they could bring Shoot at recess and then take him back.
“You’d better come to me and look at him as much as you want,” I said. – Both Kysh and I have a probationary period. If he gets caught at school, do you know what will happen?
“Tell me: I chickened out,” Snezhka grinned. “I told you my wish, but you chickened out.”
“It’s not chickening out, it’s discipline,” I said. - When the probationary period ends, I’ll bring Shoot. Honestly.
“Okay,” Snow relented. – Do you know what desire I had at first? Take your last name. I like her very much.
- An ordinary surname. Take it if you want,” I said.
- I would take it. And they would say to me: “Sokolova-Seroglazova! Go to the board." After all, in our class there is a girl with a double surname - Ivanova-Zelenko. This is just not possible. “I already found out from my grandmother,” Snezhka regretted.
Finally, she asked for my apartment number, promised to come by sometime, and we said goodbye...

24

As soon as I untied Kysh, he immediately forgot about the offense, jumped around me, trying to lick my hand and squealing joyfully.
I poured some soup for myself and him. He looked at the bowl, sniffed it, wiggled his ears and asked:
“Rr-ah! Where is the bone?
- No bones today. Let’s get some exercise, go to the store and buy a soup set for ninety kopecks. There are a lot of bones there. Enough for you and dad. Eat.
Shoo pulled out a bone from under the mattress, put it in a bowl and only then began to lap up the soup.
"Well well! – I was surprised. “Right at my dad!”
At the entrance, when we went for a walk and to the store, Rudik Baryshkin and Hero overtook us. Kysh and I stood in the corner, giving way to them, but Rudik, passing by us, pulled Gera’s leash. She froze, her mouth open, did not growl, did not bark, only the fur on the back of her neck stood on end and her eyes were bloodshot.
And little Kysh thought that if Hera didn’t growl, it meant she finally wanted to play with him, and timidly wagged his tail.
I held the leash tightly in my hand. This time I had neither fear nor resentment. I felt somehow cold and empty, and again I could not understand why the adult Rudik and the huge Hera would mock us. But I had no fear.
Rudik and Hero were probably quite happy, looking at Kysh and me, driven into a corner.
We followed them out into the street.
It turns out that the same high school student Olya was waiting for them at the entrance, who, when I was offended and sad on September 1, stroked me on the head and told me not to hang my nose.
Olya smiled when she noticed us, and, just like that time, I immediately felt lighter and more cheerful. Rudik said something to her, pointing his finger in our direction...
Kysh and I went to the store to buy a soup set, which had a lot of good bones. Kysh gradually got used to walking next to me and not getting in his way.
Having bought everything that my mother ordered, we returned home.
At the entrance, I looked into the mailbox and, out of excitement, as if in class, having mixed up everything, I said to Kysh:
- Rrr-s!
And Kysh asked again:
“Rr-ah?”
I quickly ran for the key, opened the drawer, picked up Shoot and told him to sniff it. And in my opinion, Kysh smelled his favorite bone.
He jumped down to the floor and pulled me up the stairs. We flew straight up to the fourth floor.
I was out of breath with excitement. Kysh’s nostrils fluttered when he sniffed for the last time, rechecked himself and, barking, rushed to the black leather door of apartment forty-one. And I pressed the call button.
I realized that Kysh had led me to the door of Rudik’s apartment only when, after Gera’s roar, we flew down the stairs even faster than we had taken off.
Probably, while we were in the store, Rudik managed to take Gera for a walk, left her at home, and he and Olya went off somewhere again.
Shoo was shaking all over with indignation. I tried to think about what brought him to Rudik: was it really the smell of a bone or just a dog trail? And is Rudik himself, a champion swimmer, really a thief of newspapers and magazines?
- Shoo, did it smell like bone in there or was it your imagination? – I asked.
“Rr-ah! Rr-ah! And once again rr-ah!” - said Shoo.
Then I took the bone out of the shelf (I had hidden it there earlier) and gave it to the delighted Kysh. I did this so that he would not think that Hera was stealing his bones. Why uselessly slander a dog, even if it is evil and attacks the weak?
I decided to immediately tell my dad about this story, and before his arrival I did my homework. Shoo didn't bother me. On the contrary, it helped. He was again interested in watching how sticks and various squiggles from letters appeared on the paper.
That day, my mother called twice, asked how things were, and said that after work she would go shopping. She was pleased that everything was fine with us.

25

Finally, after homework, I could work on my invention for Keesh.
I first prepared all the tools: hammer, file, nails. The box had to be made wide, with low edges.
The trick, I reasoned, is that puppies don’t “go” to the crate because there is no post there at which they raise their paw. This means you need to set up a post and conduct a test.
Putting the box together was easy. At the bottom of it, on the crosspiece, I strengthened the post, poured sand with small pebbles, which I brought from the construction site, and began to wait for the tests to begin.
As soon as Shoy poured another puddle, I poked his nose into it, then led him to the box and poked his nose into the post. And so on several times.
The most important thing was ahead. I watched Kysh, drove him away from the table legs and the receiver, and finally he understood everything. Only at the same time he scattered sand on the floor. But I shouted with joy:
- Hurray! Hurray!
And Kysh said:
“What a good invention! Why didn’t YOU think of it before?”
“Because I didn’t study at the institute,” I answered and shouted again: “Hurray!”
At that moment, dad opened the door with the key and gloomily asked what joyful event had happened in our apartment.
I showed him the box and explained how it worked. At the same time, Kysh himself, without my order, conducted an additional test.
Dad, in his coat and cap, sat down on a chair in surprise.
– Did you come up with this idea yourself? - he asked.
- Of course, myself. I can't read! - I said.
– You proved once again that everything ingenious is simple! Great engineering idea! Despite absolute illiteracy. Well done! – Dad frowned again. - The same cannot be said about me. Well! When you learn, you will write an application for an invention, and they will give you a patent. I predict that licenses for the production of this box will be purchased by most developed and developing countries. You will be famous. You will be awarded the title of dogs' best friend.
Dad was joking, but I understood that he was sad because of some failures.
He ate and lay down on the sofa, throwing his hands behind his head. Then I waited while he read the newspaper and told him that many neighbors had lost their magazines again, and ours was “Young Naturalist” and “Funny Pictures.”

KYSH AND TWO PORTFOLIO: Stories

Dear Guys!

Many of you have read books about wonderful dogs - the strong and brave White Fang, the clever Kashtanka and the devoted Mukhtar. The little puppy Kysh, about whom I am writing, is not yet an outstanding dog. But for her owner Alyosha Seroglazov, she is the smartest, most devoted dog in the world. First-grader Alyosha, for whom a completely new life as a schoolboy has begun, and curious Kysh find it difficult not to get into various troubles. To the great joy of the author, they end happily, because at the most difficult moment Alyosha did not betray Kysh, and Kysh believed that his true friend Alyosha would help him out of trouble.

I really want you to love man’s friends, be it a gray sparrow, a small fish or a huge elephant. Who knows, maybe one of you, when you become adults, will have to set foot on a new planet for the first time and meet unknown animals there. Let them know that the person came to them as a friend, with kindness and love.

SW ALESHKOVSKY

DOUBLE PORTFOLIO

AND A WHOLE WEEK

CHAPTER 1

It was my first day off, because for the first time in my life I spent a whole week in first grade.

I didn’t know how to start such a day, and so I decided to imitate my dad: when I woke up, I put my hands under my head and stared out the window.

Dad once said that on Sunday morning, since he doesn’t have to rush to work, he thinks about all sorts of things and how the whole week went. What was more in it - good or bad? And if there is more bad, then who is to blame for this: dad himself or, as he likes to say, a coincidence of circumstances?

There was more bad stuff in my first week of school. And not because of me, but because of circumstances that began to accumulate a long time ago.

If I had been born even two days later, I would have turned seven years old not on the thirty-first of August, but on the second of September, and I would not have been accepted into school. But dad already had to persuade the head teacher. And the head teacher agreed to accept me on a probationary period.

I was the youngest and smallest student in the entire school.

At Children's World they bought me the smallest uniform, but when I tried it on in the booth it turned out that it was too big. Mom asked to take off the uniform from an unborn first-grader who was standing in the window and smiling, but mom was persuaded to refuse this request and advised to change the uniform. They also gave her advice on what to feed me so that I would grow faster.

Mom shortened the trousers herself, and kept the cap in hot water all night, then pulled it over the pan and ironed it, but it still fell over my eyes.

In general, on the first of September I went to school, and at the very first break, the tallest boy in our class, Misha Lvov, measured me from head to toe with my own briefcase. He measured it and immediately gave me the nickname Twoportfolio. And he gave himself the nickname Tiger. Because of the surname Lvov. Even high school students got my nickname. During breaks they looked at me and were surprised:

Two briefcases!

Indeed, Two Briefcases!

They didn’t tease me, but still I felt the greatest resentment of all that I received in the nursery, in kindergarten, in the yard and at home.

I would go somewhere to the side, not play with anyone, and I was so bored that I wanted to cry.

True, one day a high school student came up to me, stroked my head and said:

Two briefcases, don't hang your nose. The time will come, and you will become four briefcases, then five, and then eight. Look! And during recess, don’t stand in one place. Knead your bones. And don't be afraid of anyone. If they start to scare you, flare your nostrils. They'll leave right away. I've always done this. I am Olya.

“And I’m Alyosha,” I said, and Olya showed how to flare the nostrils.

But no matter how much I fanned them out later, it didn’t scare anyone, and my ears were buzzing with shouting:

Two briefcases! Two briefcases!

I hated Tigger for this nickname.

It was good for Dadaev. They called him Dada! Kapustin - Head of cabbage. Galya Pelenkin, as a Brazilian football player, is Pele. Gusev's name is Tega-tega, and he is very happy. Lenyu Katsa - Katso. One me - Two briefcases.

Nothing! Maybe over time they will all get tired of such a long nickname, and only Felya will remain from him. Felya! It's not bad…

So I lay there and thought, and suddenly I began to stare... In front of my window, in one place, just like a helicopter, a sparrow was hanging and suddenly - bang! He hit the glass, fell on the ledge, then jumped up again, fluttered and tried to peck at something.