Nikolay Nosov collection of stories for children. The writer's childhood

Stories and fairy tales written by the great writer Nikolai Nosov did not leave every little reader without the attention, even despite the fact that on store shelves it is offered big choice stories of contemporaries. Nikolai Nosov's works for children are the standard of children's literature, and we offer short review some of them.

This is one of the readers' favorite stories, which consists of twenty-one chapters. It describes the lives of schoolchildren, their thoughts and anxieties, followed by actions based on personal conclusions, even children's ones. Funny stories events that occur in Vitya’s life give a humorous touch to the story and amuse the reader.

A story written by Nosov in three volumes about unusual character Dunno, originates from the book “The Adventures of Dunno and His Friends.” Events begin in flower city, where one of the residents comes up with the idea of ​​traveling to hot-air balloon. The adventures of friends are gaining momentum, and to find the way home you will have to put in a lot of effort and ingenuity.

The second part of the trilogy about Dunno, but here the behavior of the main character changes and from a naughty little guy, he transforms into a sympathetic kid who does only good deeds. Thanks to this, Dunno receives as a gift magic wand and goes on new journeys to sunny city, where new friends and adventures await along the way.

The final part of Nosov’s trilogy, which consists of thirty-six chapters and the writer put into each of them deep meaning, while the text is presented in an accessible form. The main events take place on the Moon along with true friends Dunnos who also think like adults. It’s not for nothing that this part is called a life textbook for kids.

A short story by Nosov, which describes an argument between two young boys who saw a car in the yard and disagreed about whether it was a Volga or a Moskvich. Then one of the comrades had the idea to ride on the bumper of a car, since before that the guys had a dream to ride, but none of the drivers agreed to the request.

This story is about how Vadik and Vova saw a hat on the floor and, to their surprise, it turned out to be “alive.” The guys saw how she suddenly began to crawl across the floor and scared them. The friends decided to look into the situation and eventually found the answer. The hat fell on the cat Vaska, who was sitting on the floor.

The story tells that a simple putty can lead to the adventures of two comrades Kostya and Shurik. They got it when the glazier was covering the windows and after that funny adventures began that took place in the cinema. A stranger sat on the putty, it was confused with a gingerbread, and in the end it was completely lost.

An educational story by Nosov, in which the boy Bobka himself learns to put a patch on his pants, since his mother refused to sew them up. And he tore them like this: he climbed over the fence, got caught and tore them. As a result of many trials and errors, the young tailor manages to make an excellent patch.

A short story where events develop based on famous fairy tale"Three piglets". The guys read it and decided to start a game. They built a small house and discovered that it had no windows and therefore could not see anything. And here it suddenly seemed to them that he had come to them Gray wolf…

The story is about how a mother gave a gift to her son Vitalik. And it was an aquarium with a beautiful fish - crucian carp. At first the child looked after her, but then he got tired of it and decided to exchange a whistle with a friend. When mom didn’t find the fish at home, she decided to find out where it had gone. Vitalik was cunning and did not want to tell his mother the truth, but in the end he confessed.

Nikolai Nosov in the story “Dreamers” shows how children come up with stories and share them with each other. But at the same time, they compete to see who can invent the most. But here they meet Igor, who ate the jam himself and told his mother that he made it younger sister. The guys felt sorry for the girl, and they bought her ice cream.

One of the most funny stories. In him we're talking about about how a mother and her son Mishka lived in the country and a little friend came to visit them. The guys were left alone because mom had to go to the city. She told the boys how to cook porridge. The friends had fun all day, but then they got hungry, and the most interesting part began, cooking porridge.

An instructive story about the good and bad behavior children. Main character, Fedya Rybkin, a funny kid who comes up with funny stories. But the problem is that he is also fun at school during lessons. And one day the teacher decided to teach him a lesson wisely and she succeeded.

The story is about how Misha’s mother told her son to behave and promised to give him a lollipop as encouragement. Misha tried, but then he climbed into the cupboard, pulled out a sugar bowl, and there were candies in it. He couldn’t resist and ate one, but with sticky hands he took the sugar bowl and here it broke. When mom arrived, a broken sugar bowl and eaten candy were discovered.

The main character of the story is Sasha, he really wanted a gun for himself, but his mother forbade it. One day his sisters gave him a long-awaited toy. Sasha played with a pistol and decided to scare his grandmother by shooting right near her face. Unexpectedly, a policeman came to visit. This is where the most interesting things began, and the child forever remembered that you can’t scare people.

This story is about schoolboy Fed Rybkin, who did homework mathematics. He turned on the radio and started solving problems. He thought it would be more fun this way. Of course, the songs on the radio were much more interesting than the lessons, so all the songs were listened to carefully, but Fedya never solved the problem correctly.

Shurik at grandpa's

A story about two little brothers who spent the summer visiting their grandparents in the village. The guys decided to fish, and for this, in the attic, at first, they decided to find a fishing rod, but there was only one. But a galosh was also found, with which, as it turned out, you can also come up with a lot of interesting things. Fishing on the pond was not so easy...

The story is about how three children were left at home alone and decided to play hide and seek. Despite the fact that there were not many places to hide, one of them hid in such a way that they could not find him. During the search, the entire apartment was in complete disarray, after which it took another whole hour to clean it.

Nosov's story about little boy Pavlik, who went to the dacha in the spring and decided to plant something in the garden, although his peers did not believe in his abilities. Mom gave me a shovel for the garden, and grandmother gave me some grains and explained how to plant. And as a result, it turned out that it was a turnip, which, thanks to Pavlik, sprouted and grew.

In Nosov's story, he talks about boys who loved to play hide and seek, but it always turned out that one was constantly hiding, and the other was always looking. Slavik, who was looking for a friend in the game, felt offended. He decided to lock his friend Vitya in the closet. After sitting in the closet for some time, the boy still did not understand why he was locked by his friend.

An instructive story about three hunters who went into the forest for prey, but did not catch anyone and stopped to rest. They sat down and began to tell each other funny stories. In the end, they realized that it is not at all necessary to kill animals, but that they can still have fun in the forest.

The events of this story by Nosov take place in a children's camp, to which three friends arrived, but one day earlier than the others. During the day they had fun, they even decorated the house, but when night came and suddenly there was a knock on the door, the boys got scared. When they asked who it was, there was no answer, and all night the guys could not figure out who it was. In the morning everything became clear.

A comic story about the dog Barboska, who invited Bobik to visit him while his grandfather and cat Vaska were not at home. Barbos boasted about the things that were in the house: a mirror, a comb, a whip. While talking, the friends fell asleep right on the bed, and when the grandfather came and discovered this, he began to kick them out, so much so that Barbos hid under the bed.

A story about a little five-year-old girl Ninochka, who most I spent time with my grandmother, since my mother and father worked. And one day she had the idea of ​​​​helping adults in search of iron for scrap metal. When she was showing the way to two grown boys, she forgot the way and got lost. The boys helped find the way home.

Interesting instructive story about an excellent student named Kolya Sinitsyn, who during summer holidays I decided to keep a diary. Kolya’s mom promised to buy him a pen if he writes everything carefully. The boy tried to write down all his thoughts and events, but got so carried away that he ran out of notebooks.

Metro

A story about the journey of two little boys who got into the Moscow metro while visiting their aunt. After looking at the moving stairs, stops and riding on the train, the boys realized that they were lost. And suddenly they met their mother and aunt, who laughed at the situation. And in the end, they themselves got lost.

When Mishka and I were very little, we really wanted to ride in a car, but we just never succeeded. No matter how much we asked for drivers, no one wanted to give us a ride. One day we were walking in the yard. Suddenly we looked - on the street, near our gate, a car stopped. The driver got out of the car and went somewhere. We ran up. I speak:

This is Volga.

No, this is Moskvich.

You understand a lot! - I say.

Of course, Moskvich,” says Mishka. - Look at his hood.

What kind of hood, I say? It's the girls who have a hood, but the car has a hood! Look at the body. Mishka looked and said:

Well, a belly like Moskvich’s.

“You have a belly,” I say, “but the car doesn’t have any belly.”

You said it yourself, belly.

I said body, not belly! Oh you! You don’t understand, but you climb!

Mishka came up to the car from behind and said:

Does the Volga really have a buffer? This is Moskvich's buffer.

I speak:

You'd better keep quiet. I came up with some kind of buffer. The buffer is next to the carriage railway, and the car has a bumper. Both Moskvich and Volga have a bumper.

The bear touched the bumper with his hands and said:

You can sit on this bumper and go.

No need, I tell him.

Don't be afraid. Let's drive a little and jump off. Then the driver came and got into the car. The bear ran up from behind, sat on the bumper and whispered:

Sit down quickly! Sit down quickly!

I speak:

No need!

Go quickly! Oh you coward! I ran up and clung next to him. The car started moving and how it rushes!

The bear got scared and said:

I'll jump off! I'll jump off!

“Don’t,” I say, “you’ll hurt yourself!” And he repeats:

I'll jump off! I'll jump off!

And he had already begun to lower one leg. I looked back, and another car was rushing behind us. I shout:

Do not dare! Look, now the car will run you over!

People on the sidewalk stop and look at us. At the intersection, a policeman blew his whistle. The bear got scared, jumped onto the pavement, but didn’t let go of his hands, holding on to the bumper, his legs dragging on the ground. I got scared, grabbed him by the collar and dragged him up. The car stopped, and I was dragging everything. The bear finally climbed onto the bumper again. People gathered around. I shout:

Hold on tight, fool!

Then everyone laughed. I saw that we had stopped and got down.

“Get down,” I tell Mishka.

And he is frightened and does not understand anything. I forcibly tore him away from this bumper. A policeman ran up and took down the number. The driver got out of the cab - everyone attacked him:

Don't you see what's going on behind you?

And they forgot about us. I whisper to Mishka:

We stepped aside and ran into the alley. We ran home, out of breath. Both of Mishka’s knees are raw and bleeding and his pants are torn. This is him when he was riding on the pavement on his stomach. He got it from his mother!

Then Mishka says:

The pants are nothing, you can sew them up, but the knees will heal on their own. I just feel sorry for the driver: he’ll probably get it because of us. Did you see the policeman write down the car number?

I speak:

I should have stayed and said that the driver was not to blame.

“We’ll write a letter to the policeman,” says Mishka.

We began to write a letter. They wrote and wrote, ruined twenty sheets of paper, and finally they wrote:

“Dear comrade policeman! You entered the number incorrectly. That is, you wrote down the number correctly, only it was incorrect that the driver was at fault. The driver is not to blame: Mishka and I are to blame. We got hooked, but he didn’t know. The driver is good and drives correctly.”

On the envelope they wrote:

“Corner of Gorky Street and Bolshaya Gruzinskaya, get to the policeman.”

They sealed the letter and threw it into the box. It will probably come.

Important decision

This happened after the steam engine that Mishka and I were making from tin can. The bear heated the water too much, the can burst, and the hot steam burned his hand. It’s good that Mishka’s mother immediately smeared naphthalan ointment on his hand. This is very good remedy. Those who don’t believe, let them try it themselves. You just need to apply it as soon as you get burned, before the skin comes off.

After the car burst, Mishka’s mother forbade us to tinker with it and threw it in the trash. We had to loiter around for a while. The boredom was fatal. Spring has begun. The snow was melting everywhere. Streams gurgled through the streets. The sun was already shining through the windows like spring. But nothing made us happy. Mishka and I have such a character - we definitely need some kind of activity. When there is nothing to do, we begin to get bored and are bored until we find something to do.

One time I come to Mishka, and he is sitting at the table, his nose buried in some book, his head in his hands, and he sees nothing in the world except this book and does not even notice that I have come. I deliberately slammed the door louder so that he would pay attention to me.

Oh, it's you, Nikoladze! - Mishka was happy. He never called me by name. Instead of simply saying “Kolya,” he calls me either Nikola, then Mikola, then Mikula Selyaninovich, then Miklouho-Maclay, and once even began to call me in Greek - Nikolaki. In a word, every day there is a new name. But I'm not offended. Let him call him if he likes it that way.

Yes, it’s me, I say. - What kind of book do you have? Why are you clinging to her like a tick?

Very interesting book, says Mishka. - I bought it this morning at the newsstand.

I looked: on the cover there is a rooster and a hen and it says “Poultry farming”, and on each page there are some chicken coops and drawings.

What's interesting here? - I say. - This is some kind of scientific book.

It’s good that it’s scientific. These are not some fairy tales. Everything here is true. This is a useful book.

Mishka is such a person - he definitely needs everything to be useful. When he has extra money, he goes to the store and buys some useful book. Once he bought a book called “Inverse trigonometric functions and Chebyshev polynomials.” Of course, he didn’t understand a word in this book and decided to read it later, when he became a little wiser. Since then, this book has been lying on his shelf - waiting for him to wiser up.

Bear marked the page he was reading on and closed the book.

“Here, brother, it’s all about,” he said, “how to raise chickens, ducks, geese, turkeys.”

Are you planning on raising turkeys? - I asked.

Who doesn't know this! - I say. - Last year I was with my mother on the collective farm and saw the incubator. There, chickens were hatched every day, in numbers of five hundred or a thousand. They had to force them out of the incubator.

What are you saying! - Mishka was surprised. - I didn’t know about this before. I thought the chickens were always hatched by the hen. When we lived in the village, I saw a mother hen hatching her chicks.

I also saw a hen. But the incubator is much better. You put a dozen eggs under the hen and that’s it, but you can put a thousand in the incubator at once.

“I know,” says Mishka. - It's written about it here. And then, while the hen sits on the eggs and raises the chickens, she does not lay eggs, but if the chickens are hatched by an incubator, the chicken lays eggs all the time, and many more eggs are produced.

We began to calculate how many extra eggs there would be if all the hens did not hatch chicks, but instead laid eggs. It turned out that the hen hatches her chicks for twenty-one days, then she raises little chicks, so it will be three months before she starts laying eggs again.

Three months is ninety days,” said Mishka. - If the hen did not hatch chicks, she would be able to lay ninety more eggs in a year. In some small farm with only ten chickens, a year would produce nine hundred more eggs. And if you take a farm like a collective farm or state farm, where there are a thousand chickens on a poultry farm, then you will get ninety thousand more eggs. Just think - ninety thousand!

We talked for a long time about the benefits of an incubator. Then Mishka said:

What if we made a small incubator ourselves so that the eggs would hatch chickens in it?

How will we do this? - I say. - After all, you need to know how to do everything.

There’s nothing tricky,” says Mishka. - Everything is written here in the book. The main thing is that the eggs are heated exactly twenty-one days in a row, and then the chickens will hatch from them.

I suddenly really wanted us to have little chickens, because I really love all kinds of birds and animals. In the fall, Mishka and I even signed up for a youth club and worked in a living corner, and then Mishka came up with the idea of ​​making this steam engine, and we stopped going to the club. Vitya Smirnov, who was our headman, said that he would cross us off the list if we didn’t work, but we said that we would, and he didn’t cross us off.

Mishka began to tell us how good it would be when we hatched little chickens.

They will be so cute! - he said. “It will be possible to fence off a corner for them in the kitchen, and let them live there, and we will feed them and take care of them.”

But you’ll have to fuss for three weeks until they hatch! - I say.

Why bother? Let's make an incubator and they will hatch. I thought about it.

Mishka looked at me with concern. I saw that he really wanted to get down to business as quickly as possible.

OK! - I say. - We still have nothing to do, we’ll try.

I knew you would agree! - Mishka was happy. “I would take on this matter myself, but I’m bored without you.”

Exit found

That night I could not sleep for a long time.

For an hour I lay in bed and thought about the incubator. At first I wanted to ask my mother to allow us to burn a kerosene lamp, but then I realized that my mother would not allow us to mess with the fire, since she is very afraid of fire and always hides matches from me. Besides, Mishka’s mother took away our kerosene lamp and would never give it back. Everyone had been asleep for a long time, but I thought about it and couldn’t fall asleep.

Suddenly it came to my head Good idea: “What if you heat water with a light bulb?”

I slowly got up, lit the table lamp and put my finger on it to find out how much heat was generated from the electric light bulb. The light bulb quickly heated up, so that it became impossible to hold the finger. Then I took the thermometer off the wall and leaned it against the light bulb.

The mercury quickly rose and hit the upper end, so that there weren’t even enough divisions on the thermometer. This means there was a lot of heat.

I calmed down and hung the thermometer back. Subsequently, after some time, we discovered that this thermometer began to lie and show the wrong temperature. When the room was cool, for some reason it showed about forty degrees of heat, and when it became warmer, the mercury climbed to the very top and stuck there until it was shaken off. He never showed the temperature to be less than thirty degrees, so even in winter we could live without heating if he hadn’t lied.

Maybe this happened because I applied the thermometer to the lamp? Don't know.

The next day I told Mishka about my invention.

When we returned from school, I asked my mother for an old table lamp that was in our closet, and we decided to try heating water with electricity. We put a table lamp instead of a kerosene lamp in a drawer, and so that the light bulb was closer to the jar of water and heated it better, Mishka placed several books under it. I turned on the electricity and we began to monitor the thermometer. At first, the mercury in the thermometer stood still for a long time, and we even began to fear that nothing would work out for us. Then the electric light bulb gradually heated the water, and the mercury began to slowly rise upward.

Half an hour later it rose to thirty-nine degrees. The bear clapped his hands with joy and shouted:

Hooray! Here it is, real chicken temperature!.. It turns out that electricity is no worse than kerosene.

Of course, I say, no worse. Electricity is even better, because kerosene can cause a fire, but nothing can happen with electricity.

Then we noticed that the mercury in the thermometer climbed higher and rose to forty degrees.

Stop! - Mishka shouted. - Stop! Look where she's going!

“We have to stop her somehow,” I say.

How can you stop her? If it were a kerosene lamp, you could tighten the wick.

What kind of wick is there when it’s electricity!

It's no good, your electricity! - Mishka got angry.

Why my electricity? - I was offended. - It is as much mine as it is yours.

But it was you who came up with the idea of ​​heating with electricity. Look, it's already forty-two degrees! If it goes like this, then all the eggs will be boiled and there won’t be any chickens.

Wait, I say. - In my opinion, we need to lower the light bulb lower, then it will heat the water less efficiently and the temperature will drop.

We pulled out the thickest book from under the lamp and began to see what would happen. The mercury slowly crept down and dropped to thirty-nine degrees. We breathed a sigh of relief, and Mishka said:

Well, everything is fine now. You can start hatching chickens. Now I’ll ask my mother for money, and you run home and ask for money too. We'll get together and buy a dozen eggs at the store.

I ran home as quickly as possible and began asking my mother for money for eggs.

Mom couldn’t understand why I needed eggs. I forcefully explained to her that we had set up an incubator and wanted to hatch chickens.

“Nothing will work out for you,” said my mother. - Is it a joke to breed chickens without a hen! You will only waste your time.

But I didn’t lag behind my mother and asked for everything.

“Okay,” my mother agreed. - Where do you want to buy eggs?

“In the store,” I say. - Where else?

“Eggs from the store are not suitable for such a thing,” says my mother. - Chickens need the freshest eggs that the chicken has recently laid, and those eggs that have been lying around for a long time will not hatch.

I returned to Mishka and told him what my mother told me.

Oh, I'm so ugly! - says Mishka. - After all, it’s written about this in the book. I completely forgot!

We decided to go the next day to the village to visit Aunt Natasha, with whom we lived in the country last year. Aunt Natasha has her own chickens, and we were sure that we would get the freshest eggs from her.

Living hat

The hat was lying on the chest of drawers, the kitten Vaska was sitting on the floor near the chest of drawers, and Vovka and Vadik were sitting at the table and coloring pictures. Suddenly something plopped behind them and fell to the floor. They turned around and saw a hat on the floor near the chest of drawers.

Vovka went up to the chest of drawers, bent down, wanted to pick up his hat - and suddenly he shouted:

- Ah ah ah! - and run to the side.

- What are you? – Vadik asks.

–　She’s alive, alive!

–　Who’s alive?

–　Shit-ha-ha-ha.

- What you! Are there real hats?

-　Look for yourself!

Vadik came closer and began to look at the hat. Suddenly the hat crawled straight towards him. He will shout:

–　Ay! - and jumped onto the sofa. Vovka is behind him.

The hat climbed out into the middle of the room and stopped. The guys look at her and shake with fear. Then the hat turned and crawled towards the sofa.

–　Ay! Oh! - the guys shouted.

They jumped off the sofa and ran out of the room. They ran into the kitchen and closed the door behind them.

-　I'm hoo-ho-ho-zhu! - says Vovka.

- Where ?

–　I’ll go to my home.

- Why ?

–　I’m afraid of hats! This is the first time I have seen a hat walking around the room.

–　Or maybe someone is pulling her string?

-　Well, go take a look.

- Let's go together. I'll take the putter. If she comes at us, I’ll hit her with my stick.

-　Wait, I’ll take the hockey stick too.

–　We don’t have any other stick.

–　Well, I’ll take a ski pole.

They took a hockey stick and a ski pole, opened the door and looked into the room.

-　Where is she? – Vadik asks.

-　Over there, near the table.

–　Now I’ll hit her with a stick! – says Vadik. - Just let him get closer, such a tramp!

But the hat lay near the table and did not move.

-　Yeah, I was scared! - the guys were happy. - He's afraid to come near us.

“Now I’ll scare her away,” said Vadik.

He started hitting the floor with his hockey stick and shouting:

–　Hey you, hat!

But the hat didn't move.

“Let’s pick up some potatoes and shoot them with potatoes,” Vovka suggested.

They returned to the kitchen, picked up potatoes from the basket and began throwing them at the hat.” They threw and threw, and finally Vadik hit him. The hat will jump up!

–　Meow! – something shouted. Lo and behold, a gray tail poked out from under the hat, then a paw, and then the kitten itself jumped out.

–　Vaska! - the guys were happy.

“He was probably sitting on the floor, and his hat fell on him from the chest of drawers,” Vovka guessed.

Vadik grabbed Vaska and let's hug him!

-　Vaska, dear, how did you get under the hat?

But Vaska didn’t answer, he just snorted and squinted from the light.

Patch

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. - 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.

Entertainers

Valya and I are entertainers. We are always playing some games.

Once we read the fairy tale "The Three Little Pigs". And then they started playing. At first we ran around the room, jumped and shouted:

We are not afraid of the gray wolf!

Then mom went to the store, and Valya said:

Come on, Petya, let's make ourselves a house, like those pigs in the fairy tale.

We pulled the blanket off the bed and covered the table with it. This is how the house turned out. We climbed into it, and it was dark and dark in there!

Valya says:

It's good that we have our own home! We will always live here and will not let anyone in, and if the gray wolf comes, we will drive him away.

I speak:

It’s a pity that we don’t have windows in our house, it’s very dark!

Nothing, says Valya. - Piglets have houses without windows.

I'm asking:

Can you see me?

No, what about me?

And I, I say, no. I can't even see myself.

Suddenly someone grabs me by the leg! I'll scream! I jumped out from under the table, and Valya followed me!

What you? - asks.

“Someone grabbed me by the leg,” I say. Maybe a gray wolf?

Valya got scared and ran out of the room. I'm behind her. They ran out into the corridor and slammed the door.

“Come on,” I say, “hold the door so he doesn’t open it.” We held the door and held it. Valya says:

Maybe there's no one there?

I speak:

Who touched my leg then?

It’s me,” says Valya, “I wanted to find out where you are.”

Why didn't you say before?

“I,” he says, “was scared.” You scared me.

We opened the door. There is no one in the room. But we are still afraid to approach the table: what if a gray wolf crawls out from under it!

I speak:

Go take off the blanket. And Valya says:

No, you go! I speak:

There's no one there.

Or maybe there is! I tiptoed to the table, pulled the edge of the blanket and ran to the door. The blanket has fallen, and there is no one under the table. We were delighted. They wanted to fix the house, but Valya said:

Suddenly someone will grab your leg again!

They never started playing “The Three Little Pigs” anymore.

Blot

I'll tell you about Fedya Rybkin, how he made the whole class laugh. He had a habit of making guys laugh. And he didn’t care: it was a break now or a lesson. So here it is. It started when Fedya got into a fight with Grisha Kopeikin over a bottle of mascara. But to tell the truth, there was no fight here. Nobody hit anyone. They simply tore the bottle out of each other’s hands, and the mascara splashed out of it, and one drop landed on Fedya’s forehead. This left him with a black blot the size of a nickel on his forehead.

At first Fedya got angry, and then he saw that the guys were laughing, looking at his blot, and decided that this was even better. And he did not wash off the blot.

Soon the bell rang, Zinaida Ivanovna came, and the lesson began. All the guys looked back at Fedya and slowly laughed at his blot. Fedya really liked that he could make the kids laugh with just his appearance. He deliberately stuck his finger into the bottle and smeared his nose with mascara. No one could look at him without laughing. The class became noisy.

At first Zinaida Ivanovna could not understand what was the matter, but soon she noticed Fedya’s blot and even stopped in surprise.

“What did you stain your face with, mascara?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Fedya nodded his head.

– What mascara? This one? Zinaida Ivanovna pointed to the bottle that stood on the desk.

“This one,” Fedya confirmed, and his mouth parted almost to his ears.

Zinaida Ivanovna put her glasses on her nose and looked at the black spots on Fedya’s face with a serious look, after which she sadly shook her head.

“You did it in vain, in vain!” she said.

“What?” Fedya became worried.

– Yes, you see, this mascara is chemical, poisonous. It eats away at the skin. As a result, the skin first begins to itch, then blisters appear on it, and then lichens and ulcers appear all over the face.

Fedya was scared. His face fell and his mouth opened of its own accord.

“I won’t smear myself with mascara anymore,” he mumbled.

“Yes, I really think you won’t do it again!” Zinaida Ivanovna grinned and continued the lesson.

Fedya quickly began to wipe away the mascara stains with a handkerchief, then turned his frightened face to Grisha Kopeikin and asked:

“Yes,” Grisha said in a whisper. Fedya again began to rub his face, rubbing it with a handkerchief and a blotter, but the black spots were deeply ingrained into the skin and did not rub off. Grisha handed Fedya an eraser and said:

- Here you go. I have a wonderful elastic band. Rub it, try it. If she doesn't help you, then it's a lost cause.

Fedya began to rub Grisha’s face with the rubber band, but that didn’t help either. Then he decided to run to wash himself and raised his hand. But Zinaida Ivanovna, as if on purpose, did not notice him. He stood up, then sat down, then rose on his tiptoes, trying to stretch his arm as high as possible. Finally Zinaida Ivanovna asked what he needed.

“Let me go wash,” Fedya asked in a plaintive voice.

– Is your face already itching?

“No,” Fedya hesitated. “It doesn’t seem to be itching yet.”

- Well, then sit down. You'll have time to wash yourself during recess.

Fedya sat down and again began to wipe his face with a blotter.

“Are you itching?” Grisha asked worriedly.

- No, it doesn’t seem to itch... No, it seems to itch. I can’t tell if it’s itching or not. It seems like it's already itching! Well, look, are there any more blisters?

“There are no blisters yet, but everything around is already red,” Grisha said in a whisper.

“Red?” Fedya was frightened. “Why did it turn red?” Maybe blisters or sores are already starting?

Fedya again began to raise his hand and ask Zinaida Ivanovna to let him wash.

“It’s itchy!” he whined.

Now he had no time to laugh. And Zinaida Ivanovna said:

- Nothing. Let it itch. But next time you won’t smear your face with anything.

Fedya sat as if on pins and needles and kept clutching his face with his hands. It began to seem to him that his face was actually starting to itch, and bumps were already beginning to swell in place of the spots.

“You better not have three,” Grisha advised him.

Finally the bell rang. Fedya was the first to jump out of the classroom and ran as fast as he could to the washbasin. There he spent the entire recess rubbing his face with soap, and the whole class was making fun of him. Finally he wiped the mascara stains clean and walked around looking serious for a whole week after that. I kept expecting blisters to appear on my face. But the blisters never popped up, and during this week Fedya even forgot how to laugh in class. Now he laughs only during breaks, and even then not always.

On the hill

The guys worked all day - they built snow slide in the courtyard. They shoveled snow and dumped it in a heap under the wall of the barn. Only by lunchtime the slide was ready. The guys poured water on her and ran home for dinner.

“We’ll have lunch,” they said, “and the slide will freeze for now.” And after lunch we will come with a sled and go for a ride.

And Kotka Chizhov from the sixth apartment is so cunning! He didn't build the slide. He sits at home and looks out the window as others work. The guys shout at him to go build a slide, but he just throws up his hands outside the window and shakes his head, as if he’s not allowed to. And when the guys left, he quickly got dressed, put on his skates and ran out into the yard. Teal skates in the snow, chirp! And he doesn’t know how to skate properly! I drove up to the hill.

–　Oh, he says, – it turned out to be a good slide! I'll jump now.

As soon as I climbed the hill, I hit my nose!

- Wow ! - speaks. - Slippery!

I got to my feet and again - bang! I fell ten times. He can't climb a hill.

"What to do?" - thinks.

I thought and thought and came up with:

“Now I’ll sprinkle some sand and climb on it.”

He grabbed the plywood and drove to the janitor's room. There is a box with sand. He began to drag sand from the box up the hill. He sprinkles in front of himself, and he climbs higher and higher. I climbed to the very top.

“Now,” he says, “I’ll jump!”

He pushed off with his foot and again - bang with his nose! Skates don't skate on sand! Kotka lies on his stomach and says:

–　How can you skate on the sand now?

And he climbed down on all fours. Then the guys came running. They see that the hill is covered with sand.

–　Who messed this up here? - they shouted. – Who sprinkled sand on the hill? Have you seen it, Kotka?

“No,” says Kotka, “I haven’t seen it.” I sprinkled it myself because it was slippery and I couldn’t climb on it.

-　Oh, you smart guy! Look what you came up with! We worked and worked, and he worked with sand! How to ride now?

Kotka says:

–　Maybe someday it will snow, it will cover the sand, and then you can ride.

–　So it might snow in a week, but we need to go for a ride today.

“Well, I don’t know,” says Kotka.

- Do not you know! You know how to ruin a slide, but you don’t know how to fix it! Grab a shovel now!

Kotka untied his skates and took a shovel.

–　Fill the sand with snow!

Kotka began to sprinkle snow on the hill, and the guys poured water on it again.

“Now,” they say, “it’ll freeze, and you’ll be able to ride.”

And Kotka liked the work so much that he also made steps on the side with a shovel.

“This,” he says, “is so that it’s easy for everyone to climb, otherwise someone else will sprinkle sand again!”

steps

One day Petya was returning from kindergarten. On this day he learned to count to ten. He reached his house, and his younger sister Valya was already waiting at the gate.

They began to climb the stairs, and Petya counted the steps loudly:

-　Well, why did you stop? – asks Valya.

“Well, remember,” says Valya. They stood on the stairs, standing. Petya says:

–　No, I can’t remember that. Well, let's start over again.

They went down the stairs. They began to climb up again.

“One,” says Petya, “two, three, four, five...

And he stopped again.

–　Have you forgotten again? – asks Valya.

- Forgot ! How can this be! I just remembered, I suddenly forgot! Well, let's try again.

They went down the stairs again, and Petya started over:

–　One, two, three, four, five...

–　Maybe twenty-five? – asks Valya.

- Not really! You're just stopping me from thinking! You see, because of you I forgot! We'll have to do it all over again.

–　I don’t want to at first! - says Valya. - What it is? Up, down, up, down! My legs already hurt.

“If you don’t want to, you don’t have to,” answered Petya. “And I won’t go further until I remember.”

Valya went home and said to her mother:

-　Mom, Petya is counting the steps on the stairs: one, two, three, four, five, but he doesn’t remember the rest.

Valya ran back to the stairs, and Petya kept counting the steps:

–　One, two, three, four, five...

- Six ! - Valya whispers. - Six! Six!

- Six ! – Petya was happy and moved on. - Seven eight nine ten.

It’s good that the stairs ended, otherwise he would never have reached the house, because he only learned to count to ten.

Nosov's stories for children find new little readers and listeners every day. People begin to read Nosov’s fairy tales from childhood; almost every family keeps his books in their personal library.

Our time is losing in terms of children's literature; rarely on store shelves can you find books by new authors with truly interesting and meaningful tales, that’s why we are increasingly turning to writers who have long proven themselves. One way or another, we meet on our way Nosov’s children’s stories, which, once you start reading, you won’t stop until you get to know all the characters and their adventures.

How Nikolai Nosov began writing stories

Nikolai Nosov's stories partially describe his childhood, relationships with peers, their dreams and fantasies about the future. Although Nikolai's hobbies were completely unrelated to literature, everything changed when his son was born. Nosov's tales before bedtime for his child, the future famous children's author he made up things on the fly, coming up with completely realistic stories from the lives of ordinary boys. It was these stories from Nikolai Nosov to his son that pushed the now adult man to write and publish small books.

After several years, Nikolai Nikolaevich realized that writing for children is best activity one that you can only imagine. It’s interesting to read Nosov’s stories because he was not just an author, but also a psychologist and a loving father. His warm, respectful attitude towards the children made it possible to create all these witty, lively and real fairy tales.

Nosov's stories for children

Every fairy tale by Nosov, every story is an everyday story about children's pressing problems and tricks. At first glance, Nikolai Nosov's stories are very comical and witty, but this is not their most important feature; what is more important is that the heroes of the works are real children with real stories and characters. In any of them you can recognize yourself as a child or your child. Nosov’s fairy tales are also pleasant to read for the reason that they are not cloyingly sweet, but are written in simple in clear language with a child's perception of what happens in each adventure.

I would like to note an important detail of all Nosov’s stories for children: they have no ideological background! For the tales of times Soviet power– this is a very nice little thing. Everyone knows that no matter how good the works of the authors of that era are, the “brainwashing” in them becomes quite boring and every year, with every new reader, it becomes more and more obvious. You can read Nosov’s stories absolutely calmly, without worrying that the communist idea will shine through every line.

Years go by, Nikolai Nosov has not been with us for many years, but his fairy tales and characters do not age. Sincere and amazing good heroes That's how they ask to be included in all children's books.

Kineshma Pedagogical College

Test

Topic: “Humorous stories by N. Nosov for children”

FULL NAME. Ambarova Anna Vladimirovna

Course 4 Group “A”

Subject Children's literature

Work 1 Option 8

Address Ivanovo region, Shuisky district,

p.g.t. Kolobovo, st. 1 Factory 39 – 8

Plan

1 Combinations of fun and serious in the writer’s works. Peculiarities creative manner Nosov in posing and resolving moral and aesthetic issues

2 Humorous stories (“Dreamers”, “Cucumbers”, “ Mishkina porridge», « Living hat" and etc.). Originality psychological characteristics heroes, humor

3 The significance of Nosov’s works for the development of humorous children’s books

Bibliography

1. Nikolai Nosov, bright writer humorous talent, believed that children begin to understand jokes very early, before the age of two, and that it is the violation of the order of things that they have just learned that makes them laugh. In general, Nosov’s books, as a rule, have two addresses - the child and the teacher. Nosov helps the teacher understand the motives and motivations of the child’s actions, and therefore find more subtle ways of influencing him. He brings up a child with laughter, and this, as we know, is a better educator than any edification.

IN humorous stories Nosov for junior schoolchildren and children up to school age the funny thing is not in the circumstances, but in the characters, the comedy of which stems from the peculiarities of boyish nature. Nosov's funny books talk about serious things, and children, perceiving the life experience of the heroes, learn how difficult, but how good it is to be responsible for the assigned task.

Stories for children of preschool and primary school age, action-packed, dynamic, full of unexpected comic situations. The stories are full of lyricism and humor; The narration is usually told in the first person.

Humorous situations help Nosov show the logic of the hero’s thinking and behavior. “The real reason for the funny lies not in external circumstances, but is rooted in the people themselves, in human characters,” wrote Nosov.

The writer's insight into the psychology of a child is artistically authentic. His works reflect the characteristics children's perception. Laconic expressive dialogue, comic situation help the author to describe the characters of the children

Nosov in his stories knows how to talk to children, knows how to understand the most intimate thoughts. Reading Nosov's stories, you see real guys in front of you - exactly the same ones we meet in Everyday life, with their strengths and weaknesses, profundity and naivety. The writer boldly resorts to fantasy and mischievous invention in his work. Each of his stories or tales is based on an incident that happened or could happen in life; the characters of the guys we often meet in the surrounding reality are described.

The strength of his stories and tales lies in the truthful, ingenuous display of a unique and cheerful children's character.

All of Nikolai Nosov’s work is permeated with genuine, intelligent love for children. Whichever of Nosov’s stories we start reading, we immediately experience joy from the first page. And the more we read, the more fun it becomes.

In funny stories there is always something hidden that makes you think seriously. Think about how it is necessary to early years prepare yourself for independent life: learn to cook porridge, fry minnows in a frying pan, plant seedlings in the garden and repair a telephone, light sparklers and follow traffic rules. Everyone needs to know and be able to do this. These stories help to get rid of bad character traits - absent-mindedness, cowardice, excessive curiosity, rudeness and arrogance, laziness and indifference.

The writer teaches little children to think not only about themselves, but also about their comrades. Together with the heroes, we experience spiritual relief and great satisfaction. The writer is generally opposed to flaunting the moralizing idea of ​​his work, and strives to write in such a way that the little reader himself can draw a conclusion. Having a deep understanding of children, the writer never presents the fact in pure form, without speculation, without creative imagination. N.N. Nosov is an amazing children's writer. It is surprising and remarkable in that not only children receive a charge of extraordinary cheerfulness, vigor, and a surge of strength, but also adults immediately plunge into the atmosphere of childhood, remembering their “difficult” childhood problems.

The literary word always more emotionally expresses the everyday problems faced by teachers, parents and children. It is much more effective than boring moralizing, instructions, explanations. And a live discussion of Nosov’s stories is not only an amusing trip together with the heroes of his books about the country of childhood, this is still an accumulation life experience, moral concepts what is “good”, what is “bad”, how to do the right thing, how to learn to be strong and courageous.

Reading Nosov’s stories to children, you can have fun, laugh heartily, and draw important conclusions for yourself, and don’t forget that next to you are the same girls and boys, for whom not everything always works out smoothly and well, that you can learn everything, you need to just keep your cool and be able to be friends.

This is the moral and aesthetic side. The social position of the children's writer, his worldview is reflected in his work. The internal organization of a work addressed to children reflects the worldview of the author himself, his social, moral and aesthetic orientation in the world.

2. The story “The Living Hat” will always remain relevant. This funny story was a favorite of many in childhood. Why is it so well remembered by children? Yes, because “childhood fears” haunt a child throughout his entire childhood: “What if this coat is alive and will grab me now?”, “What if the closet will now open and someone scary will come out of it?”

These or other similar “horrors” often visit young children. And Nosov’s story “The Living Hat” is like a guide for kids on how to overcome their fear. After reading this story, the child remembers it every time he is haunted by “invented” fears, and then he smiles, the fear goes away, he is brave and cheerful.

The power of life affirmation is common feature children's literature. The very life-affirmation of childhood is optimistic. Small child I am sure that the world he has come to is created for happiness, that this is right and lasting peace. This feeling is the basis for the child’s moral health and future ability to do creative work.

A story about honesty - “Cucumbers” by N. Nosov. How many worries Kotka got for the collective farm cucumbers! Not understanding what he did wrong, he rejoices, carrying cucumbers from the collective farm field home to his mother, not expecting her angry reaction: “Bring them back now!” And he is afraid of the watchman - they just managed to run away and be glad that he didn’t catch up - and then he has to go and voluntarily “surrender”. And it’s already late - it’s dark and scary outside. But when Kotka returned the cucumbers to the watchman, his soul was happy, and the road home was now pleasant for him, not scary. Or has he become bolder, more confident?

There are no “bad” people in Nosov’s stories. He constructs his works in such a way that children do not notice that they are taught polite, respectful attitude towards adults, taught to live in harmony and peace.

On the pages of Nosov's works there is a lively dialogue that conveys to everything that happens the hero - the boy, in his own way, often very directly illuminating certain artistically authentic events. This insight into the psychology of the hero, who evaluates everything from his own, boyish point of view, creates not only a comical situation in Nosov’s stories, but also humorously colors the logic of the hero’s behavior, which sometimes contradicts the logic of adults or the logic of common sense.

If you remember the heroes of the story “Mishkina Porridge”, “Don’t worry! I saw my mother cooking. You will be full, you will not die of hunger. I’ll cook such porridge that you’ll lick your fingers!” You’re simply amazed at their independence and skill! We lit the stove. The bear poured cereal into the pan. I speak:

The rash is bigger. I really want to eat!

He filled the pan full and filled it to the top with water.

Isn't there a lot of water? - I ask. - It will be a mess.

It's okay, mom always does this. Just watch the stove, and I’ll cook, be calm.

Well, I look after the stove, add firewood, and Mishka cooks the porridge, that is, he doesn’t cook, but sits and looks at the pan, it cooks itself.

Well, they couldn’t cook the porridge, but they lit the stove and put up some firewood. They get water from the well - they drowned the bucket, true, but they still got it out with a mug or a saucepan. “Nonsense! I will bring it now. He took the matches, tied a rope to the bucket and went to the well. He returns a minute later.

Where is the water? - I ask.

Water... there, in the well.

I myself know what’s in the well. Where's the bucket of water?

And the bucket, he says, is in the well.

How - in a well?

Yes, in the well.

Missed it?

Missed it."

The minnows were cleaned and, look, they would have been fried if the oil had not burned. “We are weirdos! - says Mishka. - We have minnows!

I speak:

There is no time to bother with minnows anymore! It will begin to get light soon.

So we won’t cook them, but fry them. It's quick - once and done.

Well, go ahead, I say, if it’s quick. And if it turns out like porridge, then it’s better not to.

In a moment, you’ll see.”

And most importantly, they found the right solution - they asked a neighbor to cook the porridge, and for this they weeded her garden. “Mishka said:

Weeds are nonsense! Not at all difficult. Much easier than cooking porridge!” Likewise, vigorous energy and imagination, combined with an overestimation of their capabilities and a lack of life experience, often put children in a funny position, which is further aggravated by the fact that failure does not discourage them, but, on the contrary, is usually a source of new fantasies and unexpected actions.

I became acquainted with Nosov’s work before I read his books.

Here's how it happened.

In our house, electrical appliances began to inexplicably disappear and deteriorate. Reflex heaters lay in the closet with ceramic heads turned out. Almost all the plugs and switches were broken or, in any case, dismantled down to the last screw. Light bulbs disappeared literally before our eyes.

Several times I stepped on spilled mercury, which rolled out from under my shoes in thousands of tiny balls, slippery and hard as diamond. All the thermometers in the house were broken, and their pitiful remains were found in the trash.

One would have thought that he had settled in the house evil spirit, which set out to deprive us of light, warmth and first aid. Then it was time for the boxes and crates. All of them were inexplicably distorted and destroyed within a few days.

To my horror, I noticed that the evil spirit had already begun to approach the drawers of my desk, since one of them was pulled out and bore marks of a hacksaw and a chisel.

In a word, we were on the verge of disaster.

I do not understand what is going on! - my wife exclaimed. “Who does this?”

Pavlik, of course,” daughter Zhenya said calmly, shrugging her shoulders.

Builds an incubator.

What-what?..- I didn’t understand.

Incubator! - Zhenya rapped out. “To breed chickens under artificial conditions,” she explained in a tone of deep superiority.

My God! - the wife moaned. “We’re lost!”

How did he get this into his head?

I've read Nosov.

Which Nosov?

How! Haven't you read Nosov?.. And also adults! - Zhenya said, looking at us with undisguised regret. “Haven’t you read The Merry Family?”

No. And what?

And here it is!

Without wasting time, I grabbed Nosov’s book, dripping with ink, from the table, unfolded it, and from then on became an avid reader and admirer of the amazing Soviet writer Nikolai Nosov.

This one has talented person- forever young, childishly pure, wonderful soul.

Nosov always writes for children and about children. But people of all ages read it. He perfectly comprehended the psychology of that wonderful, strange, sweet human being called a “boy.” No longer a child, but not yet a youth. Namely a boy. Chekhov wrote wonderfully about boys.

And all this, although on a somewhat reduced scale, is just as convincing, psychologically reliable and, perhaps, even much brighter and more exciting than in many books about adults.

One of Nosov’s books is called “Dreamers.” Very good name. After all, fantasy birth mother any genuine innovation, and all our Soviet life is nothing less than an innovative path to a wonderful communist tomorrow.

Thirty years old writing work Nikolai Nikolaevich Nosov gave to children's literature. His creative path deservedly honored by the Motherland: he is a laureate State Prize, awarded the Order of the Red Banner of Labor and the Red Star.

The publication of this first volume of his collected works coincides with a significant milestone in his life - the sixtieth anniversary of his birth.

Nosov is an intelligent, thoughtful artist, full of inexhaustible humor, the author truly classic books: “The Cheerful Family”, “The Diary of Kolya Sinitsyn”, “Vitya Maleev at School and at Home”, “The Adventures of Dunno” and many small masterpieces of two or three pages, each of which shines like a bright pearl in the rather voluminous casket of our nursery literature.

Valentin Kataev

Once, when I was living with my mother at the dacha, Mishka came to visit me. I was so happy that I can’t even say it! I miss Mishka very much. Mom was also glad to see him.

“It’s very good that you came,” she said. “The two of you will have more fun here.” By the way, I need to go to the city tomorrow. I might be late. Will you live here without me for two days?

Of course, we’ll live,” I say. “We’re not small!”

Only here you have to cook lunch yourself. Can you do it?

“We can do it,” says Mishka. “What can’t we do!”

Well, cook some soup and porridge. It's easy to cook porridge.

Let's cook some porridge. Why cook it? - says Mishka.

I speak:

Look, Mishka, what if we can’t do it! You haven't cooked before.

Don't worry! I saw my mother cooking. You will be full, you will not die of hunger. I’ll cook such porridge that you’ll lick your fingers!

The next morning, my mother left us bread for two days, jam so that we could drink tea, showed us where what foods were, explained how to cook soup and porridge, how much cereal to put in, how much of what. We listened to everything, but I didn’t remember anything. “Why,” I think, “since Mishka knows.”

Then mom left, and Mishka and I decided to go to the river to fish. We set up fishing rods and dug up worms.

Wait,” I say. “Who will cook dinner if we go to the river?”

What's there to cook? - says Mishka. - One fuss! We'll eat all the bread and cook porridge for dinner. You can eat porridge without bread.

We cut some bread, spread it with jam and went to the river. First we bathed, then we lay down on the sand. We bask in the sun and chew bread and jam. Then they started fishing. Only the fish were not biting well: only a dozen minnows were caught. We spent the whole day hanging out on the river. In the evening we returned home. Hungry!

Well, Mishka,” I say, “you’re an expert.” What are we going to cook? Just something to make it faster. I really want to eat.

Let’s have some porridge,” says Mishka. “Porridge is the easiest.”

Well, I'll just porridge.

We lit the stove. The bear poured cereal into the pan. I speak:

The rash is bigger. I really want to eat!

He filled the pan full and filled it to the top with water.

Isn't there a lot of water? - I ask. “You’ll be a mess.”

It's okay, mom always does this. Just watch the stove, and I’ll cook, be calm.

Well, I look after the stove, add firewood, and Mishka cooks the porridge, that is, he doesn’t cook, but sits and looks at the pan, it cooks itself.

It soon got dark, we lit the lamp. We sit and wait for the porridge to cook. Suddenly I see: the lid on the pan has lifted, and porridge is crawling out from under it.

Bear, I say, what is this? Why is there porridge?

The jester knows where! It's coming out of the pan!

Mishka grabbed the spoon and began to push the porridge back into the pan. I crushed it and crushed it, but it seemed to swell in the pan and fell out.

“I don’t know,” says Mishka, “why she decided to get out.” Maybe it's ready already?

I took a spoon and tried it: the cereal was quite hard.

Bear, I say, where did the water go? Completely dry cereal!

“I don’t know,” he says. - I poured a lot of water. Maybe a hole in the pan?

We began to inspect the pan: there was no hole.