Maslenitsa paintings. "Broad Maslenitsa in the works of Russian artists"

Bobka had wonderful pants: green, or rather khaki. Bobka loved them very much and always boasted:

Look, guys, what kind of pants I have. Soldiers!

All the guys, of course, were jealous. No one else had green pants like these.

One day Bobka climbed over the fence, got caught on a nail and tore these wonderful pants. Out of frustration, he almost cried, went home as quickly as possible and began to ask his mother to sew it up.

Mom got angry:

You will climb fences, tear your pants, and I have to sew them up?

I won't do it again! Sew it up, mom!

Sew it up yourself.

- But I don’t know how!

Managed to tear it, managed to sew it up.

Well, I’ll walk like this,” Bobka grumbled and went into the yard.

The guys saw that he had a hole in his pants and started laughing.

What kind of soldier are you, they say, if your pants are torn?

And Bobka makes excuses:

I asked my mother to sew it up, but she didn’t want to.

Do mothers sew up soldiers’ pants? - the guys say. - A soldier must be able to do everything himself: put on a patch and sew on a button.

Bobka felt ashamed.

He went home and asked his mother for a needle, thread and a piece of green cloth. He cut out a patch the size of a cucumber from the material and began sewing it to his pants.

This was not an easy matter. Besides, Bobka was in a hurry and pricked his fingers with a needle.

Why are you injecting yourself? Oh, you disgusting one! - Bobka said to the needle and tried to grab it by the very tip so as not to prick himself.

Finally the patch was sewn on. It stuck out on my pants like a dried mushroom, and the material around it wrinkled so much that one leg even became shorter.

Well, where is this good? - Bobka grumbled, looking at his pants. - Even worse than it was! Everything will have to be redone.

He took a knife and tore off the patch. Then he straightened it out, put it back on his pants, carefully traced around the patch with an ink pencil and began to sew it on again. Now he sewed slowly, carefully, and always made sure that the patch did not go beyond the line.

He fumbled for a long time, sniffling and groaning, but when he was done, the patch was a pleasure to look at. It was sewn evenly, smoothly and so tightly that you couldn’t tear it off with your teeth.

Finally Bobka put on his pants and went out into the yard. The guys surrounded him.

- Well done! - they said. - And the patch, look, is outlined in pencil. It’s immediately obvious that he sewed it himself.

And Bobka turned in all directions so that everyone could see, and said:

Eh, I wish I could learn how to sew on buttons, but it’s a shame not a single one came off! That is OK. Someday it comes off, I'll definitely sew it on myself.

Illustrations. V. Vasilyeva

A story about a boy named Bobka, who had wonderful khaki pants. Climbing over the fence, the boy tore his pants, and his mother got angry and did not sew them up. Bobka decided to install the patch himself...

Read Patch's story

Bobka had wonderful pants: green, or rather khaki.

Bobka loved them very much and always boasted:
- Look, guys, what kind of pants I have. Soldiers!

All the guys, of course, were jealous. No one else had green pants like these.

One day Bobka climbed over the fence, got caught on a nail and tore these wonderful pants. Out of frustration, he almost cried, went home as quickly as possible and began to ask his mother to sew it up.

Mom got angry:

- You will climb fences, tear your pants, and I have to sew them up?

- I won't do it again! Sew it up, mom!

- Sew it up yourself.

- But I can’t do it!

- Managed to tear it, managed to sew it up.

“Well, I’ll walk like this,” Bobka grumbled and went into the yard.

The guys saw that he had a hole in his pants and started laughing.

“What kind of soldier are you,” they say, “if your pants are torn?”

And Bobka makes excuses:

“I asked my mother to sew it up, but she didn’t want to.”

- Do mothers sew up soldiers’ pants? - the guys say. “The soldier must be able to do everything himself: put on a patch and sew on a button.”

Bobka felt ashamed. He went home and asked his mother for a needle, thread and a piece of green cloth. He cut out a patch the size of a cucumber from the material and began sewing it to his pants.

This was not an easy matter. Besides, Bobka was in a hurry and pricked his fingers with a needle.

- Why are you injecting yourself? Oh, you disgusting one! - Bobka said to the needle and tried to grab it by the very tip so as not to prick himself.

Finally the patch was sewn on. It stuck out on my pants like a dried mushroom, and the material around it wrinkled so much that one leg even became shorter.

- Well, where is this good? - Bobka grumbled, looking at his pants. - Even worse than it was! Everything will have to be redone.

He took a knife and tore off the patch. Then he straightened it out, put it back on his pants, carefully traced around the patch with an ink pencil and began to sew it on again.

Now he sewed slowly, carefully, and always made sure that the patch did not go beyond the line. He fumbled for a long time, sniffling and groaning, but when he was done, the patch was a pleasure to look at. It was sewn evenly, smoothly and so tightly that you couldn’t tear it off with your teeth.

Finally Bobka put on his pants and went out into the yard. The guys surrounded him.

- Well done! - they said. - And the patch, look, is outlined in pencil. It’s immediately obvious that he sewed it himself.

And Bobka turned in all directions so that everyone could see, and said:

- Eh, I wish I could learn how to sew on buttons, but it’s a pity, not a single one came off! That is OK. Someday it comes off, I’ll definitely sew it on myself.

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• Four wishes - Ushinsky K.D.

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Bobka had wonderful pants: green, or rather khaki. Bobka loved them very much and always boasted:

- Look, guys, what kind of pants I have. Soldiers!

All the guys, of course, were jealous. No one else had green pants like these.

One day Bobka climbed over the fence, got caught on a nail and tore these wonderful pants. Out of frustration, he almost cried, went home as quickly as possible and began to ask his mother to sew it up.

Mom got angry:

- You will climb fences, tear your pants, and I have to sew them up?

- I won't do it again! Sew it up, mom!

- Sew it up yourself.

- But I can’t do it!

- Managed to tear it, managed to sew it up.

“Well, I’ll walk like this,” Bobka grumbled and went into the yard.

The guys saw that he had a hole in his pants and started laughing.

“What kind of soldier are you,” they say, “if your pants are torn?”

And Bobka makes excuses:

“I asked my mother to sew it up, but she didn’t want to.”

- Do mothers sew up soldiers’ pants? - the guys say. “The soldier must be able to do everything himself: put on a patch and sew on a button.”

Bobka felt ashamed.

He went home and asked his mother for a needle, thread and a piece of green cloth. He cut out a patch the size of a cucumber from the material and began sewing it to his pants.

This was not an easy matter. Besides, Bobka was in a hurry and pricked his fingers with a needle.

- Why are you injecting yourself? Oh, you disgusting one! - Bobka said to the needle and tried to grab it by the very tip so as not to prick himself.

Finally the patch was sewn on. It stuck out on my pants like a dried mushroom, and the material around it wrinkled so much that one leg even became shorter.

- Well, where is this good? - Bobka grumbled, looking at his pants. - Even worse than it was! Everything will have to be redone.

He took a knife and tore off the patch. Then he straightened it out, put it back on his pants, carefully traced around the patch with an ink pencil and began to sew it on again. Now he sewed slowly, carefully, and always made sure that the patch did not go beyond the line.

He fumbled for a long time, sniffling and groaning, but when he was done, the patch was a pleasure to look at. It was sewn evenly, smoothly and so tightly that you couldn’t tear it off with your teeth.

Finally Bobka put on his pants and went out into the yard. The guys surrounded him.

- Well done! - they said. - And the patch, look, is outlined in pencil. It’s immediately obvious that he sewed it himself.

And Bobka turned in all directions so that everyone could see, and said:

- Eh, I wish I could learn how to sew on buttons, but it’s a pity, not a single one came off! That is OK. Someday it comes off, I’ll definitely sew it on myself.

Illustrations. V. Vasilyeva

Bobka had wonderful pants: green, or rather khaki. Bobka loved them very much and always boasted:

Look, guys, what kind of pants I have. Soldiers!

All the guys, of course, were jealous. No one else had such green pants.

One day Bobka climbed over the fence, got caught on a nail and tore these wonderful pants. Out of frustration, he almost cried, went home as quickly as possible and began to ask his mother to sew him up.

Mom got angry:

You will climb fences, tear your pants, and I have to sew them up?

I won't do it again! Sew it up, mom!

Sew it up yourself.

Well, I can’t!

Managed to tear it, managed to sew it up.

Well, I’ll walk like this,” Bobka grumbled and went into the yard.

The guys saw that he had a hole in his pants and started laughing.

What kind of soldier are you, they say, if your pants are torn?

And Bobka makes excuses:

I asked my mother to sew it up, but she didn’t want to.

Do mothers sew up soldiers’ pants? - the guys say. - A soldier must be able to do everything himself: put on a patch and sew on a button.

Bobka felt ashamed.

He went home and asked his mother for a needle, thread and a piece of green cloth. He cut out a patch the size of a cucumber from the material and began sewing it to his pants.

This was not an easy matter. Besides, Bobka was in a hurry and pricked his fingers with a needle.

Why are you injecting yourself? Oh, you disgusting one! - Bobka said to the needle and tried to grab it by the very tip, so as not to prick himself.

Finally the patch was sewn on. It stuck out on my pants like a dried mushroom, and the material around it wrinkled so much that one leg even became shorter.

Well, where is this good? - Bobka grumbled, looking at his pants. - Even worse than it was! You'll have to redo it again.

He took a knife and tore off the patch. Then he straightened it out, put it back on his pants, carefully traced around the patch with an ink pencil and began to sew it on again. Now he sewed slowly, carefully, and always made sure that the patch did not go beyond the line.

He fumbled for a long time, sniffling and groaning, but when he was done, it was a pleasure to look at the patch. It was sewn evenly, smoothly and so tightly that you couldn’t tear it off with your teeth.

Finally Bobka put on his pants and went out into the yard. The guys surrounded him.

Well done! - they said. - And the patch, look, is outlined in pencil. It’s immediately obvious that he sewed it himself.

And Bobka turned in all directions so that everyone could see, and said:

Eh, I wish I could learn how to sew on buttons, but it’s a shame not a single one came off! That is OK. Someday it comes off, I'll definitely sew it on myself.