The funniest stories of Chekhov Anton Pavlovich. Chekhov A.P. Children's stories
Story :
experienced
(Psychological study)
Was New Year. I went out to the front.
There, besides the porter, there were several of ours: Ivan Ivanovich, Pyotr Kuzmich, Yegor Sidorych ... Everyone came to sign on the sheet, which lay majestically on the table. (The paper, however, was cheap, No. 8.)
I looked at the sheet. There are too many signatures and ... about hypocrisy! O duplicity! Where are you, strokes, underlines, squiggles, ponytails? All the letters are round, even, smooth, like rosy cheeks. I see familiar names, but I don't recognize them. Have these gentlemen changed their handwriting?
I carefully dipped my pen into the inkwell, became embarrassed for some unknown reason, held my breath and carefully traced my last name. As a rule, I never used the final “era” in my signature, but now I used it: I started it and finished it.
Do you want me to kill you? - I heard the voice and breathing of Pyotr Kuzmich near my ear.
How?
I'll take it and lose it. Yes. Want? Hehehehe…
You can't laugh here, Pyotr Kuzmich. Don't forget where you are. Smiles are less than appropriate. I'm sorry, but I suppose... This is profanity, disrespect, so to speak...
Do you want me to kill you?
How? I asked.
And so… How von Clausen killed me five years ago… He-he-he. It's very simple ... I'll take it near your last name and put a squiggle. I'll do a sketch. Hehehehe. I'll make your signature disrespectful. Want?
I turned pale. Indeed, my life was in the hands of this blue-nosed man. I looked with fear and with some respect at his ominous eyes...
How little it takes to knock a man down!
Or a drop of ink near your signature. I'll make a blot... Do you want to?
There was silence. He, with the consciousness of his strength, majestic, proud, with destructive poison in his hand, I, with the consciousness of my impotence, miserable, ready to perish - both were silent. He dug into my pale face with his burkali, I avoided his gaze ...
I was joking, he finally said. - Don't be afraid.
Oh thank you! - I said and, full of gratitude, shook his hand.
I joked... But I can still... Remember... Go... Pokedova joked... And then what God will give...
Philosophical definitions of life
Our life can be likened to lying in a bathhouse on the top shelf. Hot, stuffy and foggy. The broom does its job, the bath sheet sticks, and the soap hurts the eyes. Shouts are heard from everywhere: give a couple! They wash your head and sort out all your bones. Fine! (Sarah Bernard)
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Our life can be likened to a torn boot: he always asks for porridge, but no one gives it to him. (J. Zand)
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Our life can be likened to Prince Meshchersky, who is always pushing, always scurrying about, exclaiming, groaning and waving his arms, always being born and dying, but never seeing the fruits of his deeds. It will give birth forever, but everything that is born is stillborn. (Bockle)
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Our life can be likened to a madman who leads himself into the quarter and writes a slander on himself. (Coquelin)
* * *
Our life is like a newspaper to which the second warning has already been announced. (Kant)
* * *
Our life cannot be likened to a letter that is not dangerous to read aloud, but can be likened to a letter that is afraid of not reaching the address. (Draper)
* * *
Our life is like a type-setting box filled with punctuation marks. (Confucius)
* * *
Our life is like an old maid who does not lose hope of getting married, and a face covered with pimples and wrinkles: an ugly face, but takes offense when they beat her. (Arabi Pasha)
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Our life, finally, can be likened to a frostbitten ear, which is not cut off just because they hope for his, ear, recovery. (Charcot)
Antosha Chekhonte drew from various philosophical works.
Reluctant scammers
(Christmas trinket)
Zakhar Kuzmich Dyadechkin has an evening. They celebrate the New Year and congratulate the hostess Melanya Tikhonovna on the day of the angel.
There are many guests. The people are all respectable, respectable, sober and positive. Not a single one. On the faces of tenderness, pleasantness and self-esteem. In the hall, on a large oilcloth sofa, the landlord Gusev and the shopkeeper Razmakhalov are sitting, from whom the Dyadeckins take a book. They talk about suitors and daughters.
It's hard to find a person today, says Gusev. - Who is a non-drinker and thorough ... a person who works ... Difficult!
The main thing in the house is order, Alexei Vasilich! This will not happen when there is no one in the house ... who ... the house is in order ...
If there is no order in the house, then ... everything is that way ... There are many stupid people in this world ... Where should there be order? Hm...
Three old women sit on chairs beside them and look with tenderness at their mouths. Surprise is written in their eyes. Godfather Guriy Markovich is standing in the corner and examining the icons. Noise in master bedroom. There young ladies and gentlemen play loto. The rate is a penny. Kolya, a first-class schoolboy, is standing near the table and crying. He wants to play loto, but he is not allowed to sit at the table. Is it his fault that he is small and that he does not have a penny?
Don't cry, fool! - exhort him. - Well, why are you crying? Do you want your mother to flog?
Who is roaring? Kolka? Mom's voice is heard from the kitchen. - I didn’t flog him enough, shoot him ... Varvara Guryevna, pull his ear!
On the master's bed, covered with a faded chintz blanket, sit two young ladies in pink dresses. In front of them stands a young man of about twenty-three, an employee in an insurance company, Kopaysky, en face very similar to a cat. He cares.
I don't intend to marry,” he says, showing off and pulling high, cutting collars from his neck with his fingers. - A woman is a radiant point in the human mind, but she can destroy a person. Evil creature!
What about men? A man cannot love. He does all sorts of stupid things.
How naive you are! I am not a cynic or a skeptic, but still I understand that a man will always stand at the highest point regarding feelings.
From corner to corner, like wolves in a cage, Dyadechkin himself and his first-born Grisha scurry about. Their souls are on fire. At dinner they drank heavily and now passionately want to get drunk ... Dyadechkin goes into the kitchen. There the hostess sprinkles the cake with crushed sugar.
Malasha, - says Dyadechkin. - Let's have a snack. Guests would like to eat…
They will wait ... Now you will drink and eat everything, but what will I serve at twelve o'clock? Don't die. Go away ... Do not turn around in front of your nose!
Just a glass, Malasha... You won't have any deficit from this... May I?
Punishment! Leave, they tell you! Go sit with the guests! What are you doing in the kitchen?
Dyadechkin takes a deep breath and leaves the kitchen. He goes to look at the clock. The hands point to eight past twelve. There are still fifty-two minutes left before the desired moment. It's horrible! Waiting for a drink is the hardest of waiting. It's better to wait five hours in the cold for a train than five minutes to wait for a drink... Dyadechkin looks at his watch with hatred and, walking around a bit, moves the big hand further five minutes... And Grisha? If Grisha is not allowed to drink now, he will go to the tavern and have a drink there. He does not agree to die of longing ...
Mom, he says, the guests are angry that you don’t serve snacks! Only one disgusting thing... To starve!.. They would give me a glass!
Wait... Not much left... Coming soon... Don't crowd in the kitchen.
Grisha slams the door and goes to look at his watch for the hundredth time. The big arrow is ruthless! She is almost in the same place.
Behind! - Grisha comforts himself and with his index finger moves the arrow forward for seven minutes.
Kolya runs past the clock. He stops in front of them and begins to count the time ... He really wants to live as soon as possible until the moment when they shout "Hurrah!". The arrow with its immobility pierces him to the very heart. He climbs onto a chair, looks around timidly, and steals five minutes from eternity.
Come on, look, Kehler ethyl? - sends one of the young ladies of Kopaysky. - I'm dying of impatience. New Year indeed! New happiness!
Kopaysky shuffles with both feet and rushes to the clock.
Damn it, he mutters, looking at the arrows. - How much longer! And eat passion as you like ... I will definitely kiss Katya when they shout cheers.
Kopaysky moves away from the clock, stops... After thinking a little, he tosses and turns and shortens the old year by six minutes. Dyadechkin drinks two glasses of water, but... his soul burns! He walks, walks, walks ... His wife continually chases him out of the kitchen. The bottles standing on the window tear him to pieces. What to do! No strength to endure! He again grabs the last resort. Hours at his service. He goes to the nursery, where the clock hangs, and comes across a picture that is unpleasant to his parental heart: Grisha is standing in front of the clock and moving the hand.
You... you... what are you doing? A? Why did you move the arrow? You are such a fool! A? Why is this? A?
Dyadechkin coughs, hesitates, grimaces terribly and waves his hand.
For what? A-ah-ah ... Yes, move her, shtob she died, vile! - he says and, pushing his son away from the clock, moves the arrow.
There are eleven minutes left before the New Year. Papa and Grisha go into the hall and begin to prepare the table.
Malasha! shouts Dyadechkin. - It's New Year's Eve!
Melanya Tikhonovna runs out of the kitchen and goes to check on her husband ... She looks at her watch for a long time: her husband is not lying.
Well, how to be here? she whispers. - But I still have not cooked peas for ham! Um. Punishment. How will I give them?
And, thinking a little, Melanya Tikhonovna, with a trembling hand, moves the big arrow back. The old year gets twenty minutes back.
Wait! - says the hostess and runs into the kitchen.
Fortunetellers and soothsayers
(Christmas pictures)
The old nanny tells fortunes to the father quartermaster.
Road, she says.
Nanny waves her hand to the north. Papa's face turns pale.
You are driving, - the old woman adds, - and you have a bag of money on your lap ...
A radiance flickers across Papa's face.
* * *
Chinosha sits at the table and looks into the mirror by the light of two candles. He wonders: what height, color and temperament will be his new, not yet appointed boss. He looks in the mirror for an hour, two, three ... Goosebumps run in his eyes, sticks jump, feathers fly, but there is no boss! Nothing is visible, no bosses, no subordinates. The fourth hour passes, the fifth ... Finally, he gets tired of waiting for a new boss. He stands up, waves his hand, and sighs.
The place remains vacant, then, - he says. - And this is not good. There is no greater evil than anarchy!
* * *
The young lady stands in the yard outside the gate and waits for a passerby. She needs to know the name of her betrothed. Someone is coming. She quickly opens the gate and asks:
What is your name?
In response to her question, she hears lowing and through the half-opened gate she sees a large dark head... There are horns on the head...
“Probably right,” the young lady thinks. “The difference is only in the face.”
* * *
The editor of a daily newspaper sits down to tell fortunes about his brainchild.
Leave! - they tell him. - You want to upset yourself! Drop it!
The editor does not listen and looks into the coffee grounds.
There are many drawings, he says. - Yes, the devil will figure them out ... These are mittens ... It looks like a hedgehog ... But the nose ... It’s like my Makar ... Here’s a calf ... I can’t make out anything!
* * *
The doctor's wife tells fortunes in front of the mirror and sees ... coffins.
One of the two, she thinks. “Either someone dies, or my husband will have a big practice this year…”
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on a note (stories about Chekhov) (Chekhov and Yermolova)
Chekhov began to write in his high school years. And one of his early works was the play "Fatherless". "The manuscript of this play was found in 1920 while dismantling documents and papers in the Moscow branch of the bank of the Russian-Azov Society. It was kept in the personal safe of the writer's sister.
The drama "Fatherless" Anton Chekhov, then a second-year student at the Faculty of Medicine, submitted to the court of Maria Nikolaevna Yermolova. According to one version, he personally went to the prima donna of the Russian theater, according to another, he simply sent her a package with a play.
But the play returned to Chekhov back. The writer's brother Mikhail recalled that "Yermolova was dissatisfied with the play." In fact, Yermolova, most likely, did not even see the play. It is unlikely that the creation of a young, yet unknown author could, contrary to customs and orders, bypassing a retinue of admirers, fall into the hands of an actress.
The fact that in his youth Chekhov wrote dramas was also recalled by his brother Mikhail Pavlovich Chekhov. In 1877-1878, while still studying at the gymnasium, Anton Chekhov wrote the drama Fatherless. Mikhail Chekhov also claimed that Anton Pavlovich destroyed his youthful play: "teared it into small pieces."
The drama "Fatherlessness" was released only in 1923, after the death of the writer. In 1960, on the occasion of the 100th anniversary of the birth of Chekhov, it was staged at the Theater. Vakhtangov called "Platonov". Based on this play, it was filmed famous movie"Unfinished Piece for Mechanical Piano".
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Copyright: Anton Chekhov
A story written with extraordinary touchingness about how a 9-year-old boy, sent from the village to study with a Moscow shoemaker, wrote a letter home to his grandfather. Vanka tearfully complained that in the new place he was offended by the owners and apprentices, and asked to be taken home from Moscow. After sealing the envelope and writing the address: “To the village of grandfather, Konstantin Makarych,” Vanka took it to the mailbox and went to bed, seeing in his dreams his native village, grandfather and Vyun’s dog.
Chekhov "Vanka" - a summary of the full text of this story.
Chekhov, short story "The Lady with the Dog"
Muscovite Dmitry Dmitrich Gurov had many love affairs. He was accustomed to looking down on women somewhat, as unstable and pliable creatures. Starting another short romance on vacation in Yalta, he did not expect that a sincere and defenseless lady with a dog, Anna Sergeevna, would captivate him in earnest.
Stay in Yalta quickly ended in separation. Returning to Moscow, Gurov hoped that he would quickly forget Anna Sergeevna, as he had forgotten many others before. But the thought of her haunted him relentlessly. Dmitry Dmitrievich went to the city of S., where a lady with a dog lived, and found her there. Anna Sergeevna confessed: she also thought about him all the time.
She began to come to Gurov in Moscow, staying at a hotel. He was married and she was married, so they had to meet secretly. The tragic split between secret and overt life weighed heavily on both of them. The two of them were looking for a way out of a sad impasse ...
For more details, see Chekhov's separate article "The Lady with the Dog" - a summary of the chapters. On our site you can read the full text of this story.
Chekhov, short story "A House with a Mezzanine"
The artist, who came to rest in the village, got acquainted with the inhabitants of the neighboring estate, where there was a house with a mezzanine. These were the elderly noblewoman Ekaterina Pavlovna and her two unmarried daughters, the eldest Lydia and the youngest Zhenya. Domineering, strict and dry, Lydia held "advanced" views and devoted herself to "social activities" with such perseverance that she neglected her own happiness, at the same time paying little attention to the personal concerns of her relatives. Young Zhenya, nicknamed Misya, did not at all resemble her sister. Very kind, sincere and sincere, she treated her surroundings with trusting openness and cordial participation.
Unbeknownst to himself, the artist fell in love with Misya. But dislike constantly grew between him and Lydia, who disposed of the house with a mezzanine like a family tyrant. Noticing that the artist treated her ironically, Lida opposed the rapprochement between him and Misyu and did not hesitate to doom them both to loneliness.
For more details, see Chekhov's separate article "A House with a Mezzanine" - a summary of the chapters. On our site you can read the full text of this story.
Chekhov, the story "Darling" - briefly
Complete and kind daughter petty official Olenka from her youth is imbued with the desire to love someone - and so passionately to belong to the beloved person without a trace. For the bright, happy smile that does not leave Olenka's face when she is in love, her friends call her Darling.
Darushechka's personal life is not going too well. She turns her love to the nervous, unlucky owner of the theater Kukin, but he soon dies. Darling marries the sedate, respectable clerk Pustovalov, however, six years later he leaves for another world. Communication with the military veterinarian Smirnin stops when his regiment goes somewhere far away. Darling is left alone and almost dies without love. But Smirnin returns to the city with his wife and young son Sasha, and Olenka transfers all her unquenched passion to this 9-year-old boy, who is not cared for by his own mother.
For more details, see a separate article by Chekhov "Darling" - a summary. On our site you can read the full text of this story.
Chekhov, the story "Intruder" - briefly
The peasants of one village near the railway unscrewed the nuts with which the sleepers were attached to the rails, then making weights for fishing rods from them. In their ignorance, they did not understand that such unscrewing could cause a train wreck. One such "intruder", Denis Grigoriev, was caught by a guard. During the interrogation, the judicial investigator could not explain to Denis that the absence of nuts on the rails could lead to the death of people. Dark Denis only assured that he had never even thought about killing, and the nut is well suited for a sinker - both heavy and there is a hole. And without sinkers, only fools catch fish ...
For more details, see a separate article by Chekhov "Intruder" - a summary. On our site you can read the full text of this story.
A film based on the story of A.P. Chekhov "Intruder"
Chekhov, the story "Ionych" - briefly
In the provincial town of S., the townsfolk led a useless existence. The Turkin family was considered the most educated and gifted here, where the father from year to year poured the same set of artificial, boring witticisms and ornate phrases, the mother wrote bad novels, and the daughter Ekaterina (Kotik) played the piano, paying more attention to on the soul of the music, but on the complexity of the passages.
The doctor Dmitry Ionych Startsev got into such an environment, a not stupid person, with good inclinations. The environment immediately began to strongly influence him in a bad way, lowering him to a general flat level. At first, it was as if the ghost of a strong feeling lit up in Dmitry Ionych. He fell in love with a young attractive Kitty. But his spiritual impulse was quickly cooled by the coldness of the narrow-minded girl: she declared that she was dreaming of the artist's loud fame and did not want to tie herself to family life.
Kotik went to study in Moscow, and Startseva was completely sucked into the city routine. Not finding a higher goal, he began to think only about money, over the years he became more and more fat in body, rude in soul, imbued with callousness towards people.
Kotik's career in the capital failed. Returning from there, she tried again to charm Dmitry Ionych, but he had already completely lost the ability to passionate hobbies. The lives of both of them degenerated into a painful void, which now nothing significant could fill.
Chekhov "Ionych" - summary and Chekhov "Ionych" - summary by chapter. On our site you can read the full text of this story.
Chekhov, short story "Kashtanka"
The young dog Kashtanka, who lived in the family of a drunken carpenter Luka and his son, who mocked her, once got lost on the street. She was picked up by a kind clown who performed in a circus with animals. new owner he treated Kashtanka well, fed her tasty food and began to teach artistic tricks. At his house, Kashtanka met a trained cat, a goose and a pig - Fyodor Timofeich, Ivan Ivanovich and Khavronya Ivanovna.
When the goose suddenly died after a horse stepped on it, the clown decided to take Kashtanka to the performance instead. The dog saw the bright circus arena for the first time. Kashtanka's performance on it began very successfully, but the cries of her old masters were suddenly heard from the audience. Luka and the boy Fedyushka were here and their name was Kashtanka. Out of dog loyalty, she rushed from the arena through all the rows to these rude, cruel people, forgetting the kindness of the clown, his care and delicious dinners.
For more details, see a separate article by Chekhov "Kashtanka" - a summary of the chapters. On our site you can read the full text of this story.
Chekhov, the story "Gooseberry" - briefly
The official Nikolai Ivanovich, who sat in the city office until old age, dreamed all his life of buying himself a village estate, with beautiful nature, green grass, a river - and always with gooseberry bushes in the garden. For the sake of this dream, he saved on everything, ate and dressed poorly, and put his salary in the bank. For the same purpose, Nikolai Ivanovich married an old, ugly, but rich widow and then kept her in such poverty that she quickly died. After retiring, the official bought himself an estate. There he was soon visited by his brother.
The brother saw a rather poor manor in an inconvenient place, where two neighboring factories had so littered the river that the water in it was the color of coffee. When buying the estate, there were no gooseberries in it, but Nikolai Ivanovich ordered 120 bushes for himself and planted them himself. During the visit of the brother, they just gave the first harvest. When the cook brought a plate of gooseberries to the table, Nikolai Ivanovich began to eat it almost with tears in his eyes, saying: “How delicious!” The brother, having tasted the berries, felt that they were sour and hard. But in front of him sat happy man to whom it seemed that his cherished dream had come true, and he was now glad to deceive himself.
For more details, see a separate article by Chekhov "Gooseberries" - a summary. On our site you can read the full text of this story.
Chekhov, the story "Horse Name" - briefly
The retired Major General Buldeev had a toothache. No means helped to relieve the pain, and the general did not want to remove the tooth. Buldeev's clerk, Ivan Evseich, said that his friend Yakov Vasilyich, who lives in Saratov, is treating his teeth well with a conspiracy. You can give him a telegram there, and he will read his plot "at a distance."
But in order to send a telegram, one had to know the name of Yakov Vasilyich. Ivan Evseich forgot her - he only remembered that she was "horse": it comes from a word associated with horses. The general promised to give five rubles to the one who guessed the horse's name, and all his servants ran after the clerk all day, asking: “Stallions? Kopytin? Troikin? Geldings? Trotting?"
The clerk himself wrinkled his forehead for many hours in vain thoughts. Only the next day he remembered the horse's name: Ovsov. But the general, unable to endure the pain, had already pulled out a tooth from the doctor, and did not give five rubles.
For more details, see a separate article by Chekhov “Horse Surname” - a summary. On our site you can read the full text of this story.
Chekhov, the story "The Bride" - briefly
A young girl, Nadya Shumina, lives richly in the provinces and is preparing to get married. However, in last days before the wedding, the soul of this bride is emptied. Under the influence of conversations with the "eternal student" Sasha, Nadia grows a desire to "turn her life around", to rush into the distance towards a beautiful dream.
The bride leaves her fiancé Andrei and, with Sasha's help, runs away from home, from her grandmother and mother - to go to study in St. Petersburg. Nadia and Sasha believe that a miraculous transformation of all earthly existence will soon take place, and enlightened, educated people will become the driving force behind this great upheaval.
For more details, see a separate article by Chekhov "The Bride" - a summary of the chapters. On our site you can read the full text of this story.
Chekhov, the story "About love" - briefly
The landowner Alekhin strikes up a close friendship with the family of Judge Luganovich and falls in love with his young wife, Anna Alekseevna. She is also fond of Alekhin, but both of them do not dare to directly confess to each other in their passion. Alekhin does not want to ruin the happiness of the Luganovich family, where the husband and children treat him well. Anna also does not dare to change her life. In mutual silent and sad sympathy for the two of them, several years pass, until the family has to leave for a remote province due to the new official appointment of Luganovich. Sobbing at parting forever, Anna Alekseevna and Alekhin finally realize how stupid and petty everything that had prevented them from uniting had been until now.
For more details, see a separate article by Chekhov "On Love" - a summary. On our site you can read the full text of this story.
Chekhov "Ward number 6" - briefly
Dr. Andrey Efimych Ragin, the head of a hospital in a small town, is an intelligent and cultured person, but without a bright, stubborn will. Considering himself powerless to get rid of the surrounding vices, Ragin washes his hands and satisfies his spiritual interests only by reading books on humanitarian topics. To justify himself, Andrey Efimych develops a special philosophy like stoic ideas about indifference to the vicissitudes of fate.
But the aimlessness of existence gradually burdens Ragin. Among urban society there are no people capable of understanding it. One day, the doctor accidentally enters ward number 6 - a hospital wing for keeping insane people - and talks with Ivan Dmitrich Gromov, who suffers from persecution mania. Once a highly educated man, Ivan Dmitritch ridicules Ragin's philosophy, arguing that living feeling and empathy must be developed in oneself, and not suppressed.
The doctor at first tries to argue, but the instinct of justice forces him to admit that the madman is right. The collapse of the former comfortable worldview leads Andrey Yefimitch to a mental crisis. The doctor's behavior is so shocking to the vulgar, indifferent city society that he himself is locked up in Ward No. 6.
For more details, see separate articles: Chekhov "Ward No. 6" - summary and Chekhov "Ward No. 6" - summary by chapter. On our site you can read the full text of this story.
Chekhov, short story "Letter to a learned neighbor"
A retired sergeant of the Don Cossacks Vasily Semi-Bulatov from the village of Pancakes-Eaten writes an illiterate letter to a neighbor, a well-known scientist who recently arrived from St. Petersburg. In the lines of the letter, Semi-Bulatov expresses admiration for science, but rebels against the "implausible" theories about the origin of man from a monkey and the possibility of life on the moon. The police officer also sets out an important discovery that he himself made: the day in winter is short because it shrinks from the cold, and the night lengthens from the heat of burning lamps and lanterns.
For more details, see a separate article by Chekhov “A letter to a learned neighbor” - a summary. On our site you can read the full text of this story.
Chekhov, the story "The Jumper" - briefly
The frivolous young lady Olga Ivanovna loves to surround herself with artists, performers, musicians, and herself different types arts. By chance, she marries Dr. Dymov, whom she considers an unremarkable person. Dreaming of someday turning the head of an outstanding genius, Olga Ivanovna leads a wide life with weekly receptions, picnics, trips to nature. She only leaves Dymov to work and earn money.
Out of love for his wife, the doctor behaves in family life unassuming. He fulfills all the whims of Olga Ivanovna and even puts up with her obvious betrayal. Only after Dymov dies from diphtheria infection, Olga suddenly realizes that most of her friends from art are small, miserable nonentities, and a modest, shy husband was that truly large figure that she had been looking for for so long.
For more details, see a separate article by Chekhov "The Jumper" - a summary of the chapters. On our site you can read the full text of this story.
Chekhov, short story "Rothschild's Violin"
Undertaker Yakov, nicknamed "Bronze", was a rude, grumpy man. He constantly beat his wife, quarreled with acquaintances, and due to poverty all his life he thought only about money. Knowing how to play the violin, Bronze often played music at weddings with a local Jewish orchestra for extra money and felt a strong dislike for a flutist named Rothschild, a plaintive Jew with a haggard face.
But when Jacob's wife, Martha, suddenly died, he felt a strong anguish. Before, he had never thought about his life, but now he realized how ugly and stupidly he wasted it on trifles. Soon Bronze himself fell mortally ill. In his dying repentance, he bequeathed to give his violin to Rothschild, whom he had often offended before.
For more details, see a separate article by Chekhov "Rothschild's Violin" - a summary e. On our site you can read the full text of this story.
Chekhov, short story "The Death of an Official"
Petty official Ivan Dmitritch Chervyakov, sneezing in the theater, accidentally splashed General Brizzhalov, who was sitting in front of him. Although Brizzhalov was not his boss, Chervyakov obsequiously approached him with apologies. The next day he went to apologize to the general's office, and was so intrusive that the general finally told him to go out. From the shock, the official barely got home, and there he lay down on the sofa and died.
For more details, see Chekhov's separate article "The Death of an Official" - a summary. On our site you can read the full text of this story.
Chekhov, the story "Thick and thin" - briefly
Two former gymnasium classmates - fat Mikhail and thin Porfiry - met by chance after many years at the railway station and began to tell each other about their life and being. Their conversation began in a completely friendly way, but the thin toady, having learned that his fat comrade had risen to a high official rank, began to address him as “your excellency” and reach out to the line.
For more details, see a separate article by Chekhov "Thick and Thin" - a summary. On our site you can read the full text of this story.
Chekhov, short story "Tosca"
The St. Petersburg cab driver Iona Potapov, whose son died this week, involuntarily left to carry riders due to lack of money. All day long he drove in anguish and grief in the midst of falling thick snow, suffering from the reproaches of pretentious passengers. Wanting to relieve his soul, Jonah tried to tell almost all of them his sadness, but he did not find sympathy in anyone. Arriving at the carriage house, out of desperation, he began to talk about the death of the son of his own horse, chewing hay.
For more details, see a separate article by Chekhov "Tosca" - a summary. On our site you can read the full text of this story.
Chekhov, the story "Unter Prishbeev" - briefly
Prishibeev, a former army non-commissioned officer (a rank like a sergeant or foreman), suffered from a mania to restore order everywhere and, on his own initiative, intervened even in matters that did not concern him at all. After retiring from military service, he began to oppress his fellow villagers: he forbade them to gather in crowds, sing songs, burn fires. One day, Prishibeev attacked a local police officer with his fists, deciding that he was performing his duties without due zeal. The court sentenced the non-commissioned officer to a month of arrest for this, and Prishibeev met this sentence with great amazement.
For more details, see a separate article by Chekhov "Unter Prishbeev" - a summary. On our site you can read the full text of this story.
Chekhov, short story "Chameleon"
The quarter warden Ochumelov, walking through the city, saw how the goldsmith Khryukin caught a greyhound puppy biting his finger. Ochumelov immediately approached to investigate, threatened to “exterminate” the dog and fine its owner, but someone from the gathered crowd said that the puppy belonged to General Zhigalov. Not wanting to quarrel with the general, Ochumelov immediately changed his mind and began to say that Khryukin had teased the dog himself, and had scratched his finger with a carnation. Meanwhile, in the crowd, some assured: the dog was a general's, while others: no. The overseer each time adapted to one or the other version, like a chameleon lizard changing color according to the color of the surrounding vegetation.
For more details, see a separate article by Chekhov "Chameleon" - a summary. On our site you can read the full text of this story.
A. P. Chekhov. "Chameleon". Read by I. Ilyinsky
Chekhov, short story "Surgery"
Church deacon Vonmiglasov came to the hospital to pull a tooth to paramedic Kuryatin. But dental surgery was no easy task. Kuryatin at first, to the cries of the deacon, pulled a bad tooth out of his mouth for a long time, and then broke it off. During this procedure, the initially polite paramedic and the patient completely quarreled and began to curse each other with the last words.
For more details, see a separate article by Chekhov "Surgery" - a summary. On our site you can read the full text of this story.
Chekhov, short story "The Man in the Case"
The gymnasium teacher of the ancient Greek language, Belikov, was a strange man who was afraid outside world and tried to separate from him with an artificial shell, a case. All things: an umbrella, a watch, a knife for sharpening pencils - he had in little cases, and even in good weather he himself left the house in galoshes, with an umbrella and a warm coat. At the teachers' councils, the suspicious Belikov demanded that other teachers steadily follow the prohibition circulars and oppressed everyone with his tedious whining.
To everyone's surprise, the man in the case almost got married. He was fascinated by Varenka, the sister of the teacher Mikhail Kovalenko. However, Belikov experienced a terrible shock when he once saw Varenka riding a bicycle. The next day, he went to her brother to explain that such a ride is indecent for a woman. Kovalenko called Belikov a fiscal and lowered him down the stairs. Belikov’s fall from the steps was accidentally seen by Varenka, who entered the house, who could not resist and laughed.
The man in the case silently went home, went to bed and soon died. At his funeral, all fellow teachers felt great relief.
For more details, see Chekhov's separate article "The Man in the Case" - a summary. On our website you can read and
About the early stories of A. Ch.
(from the complete works in 30 volumes)
The first collection of Chekhov's stories was prepared for publication in the middle of 1882. It included stories: "Wives of Artists", "Daddy", "Peter's Day", "You chase two hares, you won't catch a single one", "Confession, or Olya, Zhenya, Zoya", "Sinner from Toledo", "Temperaments ”, “Flying Islands”, “Before the wedding”, “Letter to a learned neighbor”, “In the carriage”, “A thousand and one passions, or a terrible night”.
This collection has not been published. Two incomplete copies of it have survived - without covers, title pages, last pages and contents (Moscow House-Museum of A.P. Chekhov - 112 and 96 pages). One copy is marked: "Edition of the author 188-"; in another - an indication of I.P. Chekhov: “The surviving sheets of the first collection of stories by A.P., which was not published. (Early 80s, before "Tales of Melpomene"). I. Chekhov. March 31, 1913"; "Drawings of the late brother Nikolai".
M. P. Chekhov wrote about this book very carefully: “It was already printed, stitched, and only the cover was missing ... I don’t know why it was not published and in general what was its further fate” (Around Chekhov, p. 137).
A.P. Chekhov himself did not leave any information about his first collection.
By tradition, this book was associated with a rough sketch of the cover, kept by M. M. Dyukovsky (in 1965 transferred to the Moscow Museum of A. P. Chekhov): “At leisure. Antosha Chekhonte. Rice. N. P. Chekhov.
The collection has so far been dated to 1883 on the basis that the chronologically latest parody in it, The Flying Islands, was published in the Alarm Clock magazine in May 1883.
In preparing the volume, the cases of Moscow censorship, stored in the Central State. archive of Moscow. Among the papers of 1882, documents were found explaining the fate of Chekhov's first book.
On June 19, 1882, the Moscow printing house N. Cody, which published, in particular, the magazine Spectator, applied to the censorship committee with a request to issue her a “ticket for submitting a book called “Miners and Complacent” in proof sheets. Antosha Chekhonte's Almanac with Chekhov's Drawings, which will include 7 printed sheets» (f. 31, op. 3, item 2251, fol. 95). The censorship committee met on the same day, but the request was refused “for lack of a law in mind to resolve this petition” (ibid., item 2173, fol. 125v.). On June 30, 1882, the printing house again appealed to the censorship committee, asking “to give it a ticket for presentation in the proof sheets of the book “Prank” by A. Chekhonte, with drawings by N. P. Chekhov, a book that includes articles that have already been published at different times in censored publications. “Articles,” said this petition, written in Chekhov's own hand, “which have not yet been printed, will be delivered in manuscript form. The book will consist of 5–7 printed sheets” (ibid., item 2251, fol. 155). This time the request was granted, and the printing house received a "ticket" - the right to present the book to the censor. The censor was a real state councilor V. Ya. Fedorov, a very influential official, who was soon appointed chairman of the Moscow Censorship Committee.
The discovered materials made it possible to establish the date of the collection - 1882 (the parody "Flying Islands" thus also refers to 1882), its title - "Prank" - and the full volume (7 printed sheets).
Further fate Chekhov's first book was not reflected in the surviving documents of the censorship archive. But, starting with N. A. Leikin, negotiations on Motley Tales, Chekhov wrote: “There are publishers-typographers in Moscow, but in Moscow censorship will not let the book, because all my choicest stories, according to Moscow concepts, undermine the foundations” (1 April 1885).
Since the publication of Tales of Melpomene did not meet with censorship obstacles, Chekhov's remark can only be attributed to his first collection.
From the collection “Tales of Melpomene. Six stories by A. Chekhonte”, M., 1884, this volume included: “He and She”, “Baron”, “Revenge”, “Two Scandals”, “Wives of Artists” (1883 story “Tragic”, see . in Volume II).
The appearance of "Tales of Melpomene" - Chekhov's first published book - caused a number of responses in the press. In particular, P. A. Sergeenko wrote: “... the stories of A. Chekhonte are torn alive from the artistic world. All of them are small, read easily, freely and with an involuntary smile. Written with Dickensian humor ... Humor is everywhere, humor without effort, and Chekhonte handles it very carefully, as it should. And lately it’s terribly how everyone has fallen into humor ... we just laugh when the authorities are sharp and it’s impossible not to giggle, or when we tear the skin off our neighbor. We don’t even have a healthy, cheerful, good laugh” (Iago. Volatile Notes. - Novorossiysk Telegraph, 1884, No. 2931, December 1).
The weekly newspaper Teatralny Mirok (edited by A. A. Pleshcheev) published a bibliographic note about the collection: “All six stories are written in a lively, lively language and are read with interest. The author has an undoubted sense of humor” (“Theatrical World”, 1884, No. 25).
A. D. Kurepin, who signed with the initial K, began his “Moscow Feuilleton” in Novoye Vremya with a review of the collection. It would be better for him to turn to life itself and draw from it a handful of materials for all kinds of stories, both merry and sad ”(“ Novoye Vremya ”, 1884, No. 3022, July 28).
The Observer magazine (1885, no. 4, pp. 68–68) also printed a sympathetic review. Here it was said about the “Tales of Melpomene”: “The author of these stories gave them an inappropriate name: they are all taken from the world of the theater, but they have nothing to do with the muse of tragedy; they could rather be conveyed by the muse of comedy, the cheerful Thalia, since they are dominated by a comic or humorous element. These stories are not badly written, they are easy to read; their content and the types derived from them are close to real life.
In 1883, a humorous collection “Kukareku. Funny and funny stories, novels and poems" - ed. King of Clubs (L. I. Palmina), where from the magazines "Alarm Clock" and "Moscow" were reprinted, without the participation of the author, two Chekhov's stories: "Life in questions and exclamations" and "I forgot !!".
In 1900, the editors of the St. Petersburg magazine Dragonfly published, as the main prize of the magazine, the collection In the World of Laughter and Jokes, which included some stories, poems, humoresques, and cartoons that were published on the pages of Dragonfly. Among them are the following stories and humoresques by Chekhov, dating back to 1880: “American Style”, “Daddy”, “Before the Wedding”, “For Apples”, “What is most often found in novels, short stories, etc.? ". As a comparison of the texts shows, it was a simple reprint (the story "Papasha", corrected by Chekhov in 1882, was reproduced here according to the magazine text of 1880). Thus, the collections "Kukareku" and "In the world of laughter and jokes" cannot be considered sources of the text.
Stories and humoresques early years, which were not published during Chekhov's lifetime and preserved in manuscripts, are collected in the section “Unpublished. Unfinished." Here, in particular, for the first time the humoresque "Advertising and Announcements" is fully placed. It was also found out that the parody "novel" "Secrets of one hundred and forty-four catastrophes, or Russian Rocambole", dated 1884 in previous editions, actually refers to 1882.
All the stories and humoresques collected in the first volume appeared in the magazines and newspapers of 1880–1882 under pseudonyms or without a signature. The first authentically known Chekhov's signature in print - "... in" - was under the "Letter to a learned neighbor." Then the well-known pseudonym "Antosha Chekhonte" and its variants were widely used: Antosha, Chekhonte, An. Ch., Antosha Ch., Antosha Ch***, A. Chekhonte, Don Antonio Chekhonte. Under some texts there were signatures: Man without a spleen, Prose poet, G. Baldastov.
Preparing the first collection of his works for the book publishing house of A.F. Marx, Chekhov could not find everything that he had published in twenty years of literary work - his "children scattered all over the world." A number of stories and humoresques, published under undisclosed pseudonyms or anonymously, were lost on the pages of magazines and newspapers of the late 70s and early 80s and have not been collected to this day.
In preparing this volume, the following editions of 1877-1883 were surveyed.
Magazines: "Dragonfly", "Alarm Clock", "Shards", "Illustrated Demon", "Spectator", "Light and Shadows", "Worldly Talk", "Moscow", "Entertainment", "Russian satirical leaflet", "Bell ”, “Malyar”, “Jester”, “Phalanx” (Tiflis), “Gusli” (Tiflis), “Lighthouse” (Odessa), “Bee” (Odessa), “Good-natured”, “Echo”, “Rebus”, "Nuvellist", "Niva", "Neva", "Illustrated World", "Spark", "Nature and Hunting", "Russia", "Krugozor", "Children's Recreation", "Spring".
Newspapers: Moskovsky Leaf, Minute, Petersburg Leaf, A. Gatsuk's Newspaper, Prompter, Theatre, Azov Herald, Azov Rumors, Taganrog Herald, Russian Courier , "Moscow Week", "Russia", "Russian Newspaper", "Donskaya bee", "South Territory", "Hive", "Order", "Light", "Light", "Echoes", "Glasnost", " Dawn".
Almanacs and collections: "Forget-Me-Not", M., 1878; "Shooter", M., 1878; "Komar", M., 1878; "Yula", M., 1878; "Merry-punning", M., 1879; "Live strings", St. Petersburg, 1879; "Zabavnik", St. Petersburg, 1879; "Our laughers" ("Amusing Library"), St. Petersburg, 1879; "Rainbow", M., 1879; "Repertoire of fun, fun and laughter", M., 1879; "Cricket", Odessa, 1879; Almanacs "Alarm Clock" for 1879-1882; "Cricket", M., 1880; "Crow in peacock feathers", M., 1880; "Skomorokh", M., 1880; "Laugher, or Pea Jesters", St. Petersburg, 1880; "Jester pea", Odessa, 1881; "Humorist", M., 1881; "Cheerful fellow traveler", St. Petersburg, 1881; "Bouquet", St. Petersburg, 1881; "Miracles of the Moscow Exhibition", St. Petersburg, 1882; "Hey, she, I'll die of laughter", St. Petersburg, 1882; “Artistic almanac of the journal Light and Shadows”, M., 1882; "Fragments", St. Petersburg, 1882; "The stimulant of the pleasures of life, fun, love and happiness", M., 1883; "Kukareku", M., 1883; "Live string", St. Petersburg, 1883; "Fly", St. Petersburg, 1883; Veselchak, St. Petersburg, 1883; "Zabubennye golovushki", St. Petersburg, 1883; "Mother's sons", St. Petersburg, 1883; "Copper foreheads", St. Petersburg, 1883; "Flashlight", St. Petersburg, 1883; Zuboskal, St. Petersburg, 1883; "Moth", Kyiv, 1883.
During the examination, the following were checked: evidence of Chekhov's first appearance in the press; assumptions about Chekhov's authorship in controversial texts; publications attributed to Chekhov. It was possible to find stories, humoresques and poems, probably belonging to Chekhov (placed in the "Dubia" section of volume XVIII). Volume XVIII also includes 12 lines from No. 30 of the Dragonfly magazine for 1880 (“Mosquitoes and Flies”), presumably separated from the entire 35-line publication.
A. Pazukhin remembered Chekhov's participation in the almanac "The Illustrated Demon" (see A. Izmailov. Chekhov. M., 1916, pp. 84–85). The only published issue (M., 1880; a copy is kept in the State Public Library named after M.E. Saltykov-Shchedrin, Leningrad) reproduced engraved drawings by N.P. Chekhov; the accompanying text is not signed. According to the documents of the archive of the Moscow Censorship Committee, the author of the poems and feuilletons of The Illustrated Demon was established - Alexandra Urvanovna Sokolova, who worked in the small press under the pseudonym "Blue Domino" (petition by A. U. Sokolova dated May 13, 1881, TsGAM, f. 31, inventory 3, item 2250, sheet 41).
Central state. the archive of literature and art (Moscow) acquired proofs preserved in the papers of the book publishing house of A.F. Marx - material for additional volumes of the posthumous edition of Chekhov's works. On eighteen large sheets there are prints of stories, humoresques and feuilletons of 1881-1886. Among them are “And this and that (Letters and Telegrams)”, “Salon de Variety”, “Temperaments”, “In the Carriage”, “Wedding Season”, “Philosophical Definitions of Life”, “Meeting of Spring” included in this volume. . Here, three humoresques were reprinted from the Alarm Clock magazine for 1882: “The most offensive of foreign ducks”, “On the history of advertising”, “Women's costume in Paris”. The first was published in "Alarm Clock" signed by A., the other two - without a signature. An analysis of the content and style of these humoresques leads to the conclusion that they do not belong to Chekhov.
A. P. Chekhov "Vanka"
Vanka Zhukov, a nine-year-old boy who was apprenticed three months ago to the shoemaker Alyakhin, did not go to bed on Christmas Eve. After waiting for the masters and apprentices to leave for matins, he took out a vial of ink from the master's closet, a pen with a rusty nib, and, spreading a crumpled sheet of paper in front of him, began to write. Before he typed out the first letter, he glanced fearfully at the doors and windows several times, glanced sideways at the dark image, on both sides of which stretched shelves with stocks, and sighed raggedly. The paper was lying on the bench, and he himself was kneeling in front of the bench.
“Dear grandfather, Konstantin Makarych! he wrote. And I am writing you a letter. I congratulate you on Christmas and wish you everything from the Lord God. I have neither father nor mother, only you left me alone.
Vanka turned his eyes to the dark window, in which the reflection of his candle flickered, and vividly imagined his grandfather, Konstantin Makarych, serving as a night watchman for the Zhivarevs. This is a small, skinny, but unusually nimble and agile old man of 65 years old, with an eternally laughing face and drunken eyes. During the day he sleeps in the people's kitchen or jokes with the cooks, but at night, wrapped in a spacious sheepskin coat, he walks around the estate and knocks on his mallet. Behind him, head down, walk the old Kashtanka and the male Vyun, so named for his black color and body, long, like a weasel. This Vyun is extraordinarily respectful and affectionate, looks equally touchingly both at his own and at strangers, but does not use credit. Beneath his reverence and humility hides the most Jesuitical malice. No one better than him knows how to sneak up in time and grab a leg, climb into a glacier or steal a chicken from a peasant. His hind legs were beaten off more than once, he was hanged twice, every week he was flogged half to death, but he always came to life.
Now, probably, grandfather is standing at the gate, screwing up his eyes at the bright red windows of the village church and, stamping his felt boots, jokes with the servants. His beater is tied to his belt. He clasps his hands, shrugs from the cold, and, giggling like an old man, pinches first the maid, then the cook.
- Shall we sniff some tobacco? he says, offering the women his snuffbox.
The women sniff and sneeze. Grandfather comes into indescribable delight, bursts into cheerful laughter and shouts:
- Rip it off, it's frozen!
They give snuff to tobacco and dogs. Kashtanka sneezes, twists her muzzle and, offended, steps aside. The loach, out of respect, does not sneeze and wags its tail. And the weather is great. The air is quiet, transparent and fresh. The night is dark, but you can see the whole village with its white roofs and wisps of smoke coming from the chimneys, trees covered with frost, snowdrifts. The whole sky is strewn with merrily twinkling stars, and Milky Way looms so clearly, as if it had been washed and rubbed with snow before the holiday ...
Vanka sighed, dipped his pen and continued to write:
“And yesterday I had a scolding. The owner dragged me by the hair into the yard and combed me with a spade because I rocked their child in the cradle and accidentally fell asleep. And in the week the hostess told me to clean the herring, and I started with the tail, and she took the herring and started poking me in the mug with her snout. The apprentices mock me, send me to a tavern for vodka and tell me to steal cucumbers from the owners, and the owner beats me with whatever comes to hand. And there is no food. In the morning they give bread, at lunch they give porridge, and in the evening they also give bread, and for tea or cabbage soup, the hosts crack themselves. And they tell me to sleep in the entryway, and when their baby cries, I don’t sleep at all, but rock the cradle. Dear grandfather, do God's mercy, take me home from here, to the village, there is no way for me ... I bow to your feet and I will forever pray to God, take me away from here, otherwise I will die ... "
Vanka twisted his mouth, rubbed his eyes with his black fist, and sobbed.
“I’ll grind tobacco for you,” he continued, “pray to God, and if anything, then flog me like Sidorov’s goat. And if you think I don’t have a position, then for Christ’s sake I’ll ask the clerk to clean my boots, or instead of Fedka I’ll go to the shepherd. Dear grandfather, there is no way, just one death. I wanted to run to the village on foot, but I don’t have boots, I’m afraid of frost. And when you grow big, I will feed you for this very thing and will not give offense to anyone, but if you die, I will pray for the repose of your soul, just like for mother Pelageya.
And Moscow is a big city. The houses are all master's and there are many horses, but there are no sheep and the dogs are not evil. The guys here don’t go with a star and don’t let anyone sing to the kliros, and since I saw in one shop on the window hooks are sold directly with fishing line and for any fish, very worthy, even there is one hook that will hold a pound catfish. And I saw shops with all sorts of guns in the manner of masters, so probably a hundred rubles each ... But in butcher shops there are black grouse, and grouse, and hares, and in which place they are shot, the inmates do not say about that.
Dear grandfather, and when the gentlemen have a Christmas tree with gifts, take me a gilded nut and hide it in a green chest. Ask the young lady Olga Ignatievna, tell me, for Vanka.
Vanka sighed convulsively and again stared at the window. He remembered that the grandfather always went to the forest to fetch the Christmas tree for the masters and took his grandson with him. It was fun time! And grandfather grunted, and frost grunted, and looking at them, Vanka grunted. It used to happen that before cutting down the Christmas tree, the grandfather smoked a pipe, sniffed tobacco for a long time, chuckled at the cold Vanya ... Young Christmas trees, shrouded in hoarfrost, stand motionless and wait for which of them to die? Out of nowhere, a hare flies like an arrow through the snowdrifts ... Grandfather cannot help but shout:
- Hold, hold... hold! Ah, the cheeky devil!
The grandfather dragged the felled Christmas tree to the master's house, and there they began to clean it up ... The young lady Olga Ignatievna, Vanka's favorite, was the hardest of all. When Vanka's mother Pelageya was still alive and served as maids for the masters, Olga Ignatievna fed Vanka with candy and, having nothing to do, taught him to read, write, count to a hundred and even dance a square dance. When Pelageya died, the orphan Vanka was sent to the people's kitchen to his grandfather, and from the kitchen to Moscow to the shoemaker Alyakhin ...
“Come, dear grandfather,” continued Vanka, “I pray to you in Christ God, take me out of here. Have pity on me, an unfortunate orphan, otherwise everyone beats me and I want to eat passion, but the boredom is such that it’s impossible to say, I’m crying all the time. And the other day the owner hit him on the head with a block, so that he fell and forcibly came to himself. Wasting my life, worse than any dog ... And I also bow to Alena, the crooked Yegorka and the coachman, but don’t give my harmony to anyone. I remain your grandson Ivan Zhukov, dear grandfather, come.”
Vanka folded the sheet of paper he had written in four and put it in an envelope he had bought the day before for a kopeck... After a moment's thought, he dipped his pen and wrote the address:
To the grandfather's village.
Then he scratched himself, thought, and added: "To Konstantin Makarych." Satisfied that he had not been prevented from writing, he put on his hat and, without throwing on a fur coat, ran out into the street in his shirt—
The inmates from the butcher's shop, whom he had questioned the day before, told him that letters were dropped into mailboxes, and from the boxes they were transported all over the earth in postal troikas with drunken coachmen and ringing bells. Vanka ran to the first mailbox and thrust the precious letter into the slot...
Lulled by sweet hopes, he slept soundly an hour later ... He dreamed of a stove. Grandfather sits on the stove, his bare feet dangling, and reads a letter to the cooks... Vyun walks around the stove and twirls his tail...
A. P. Chekhov "Boys"
- Volodechka has arrived! yelled Natalya, running into the dining room. “Oh, my God!
The whole family of the Korolevs, who had been waiting for their Volodya from hour to hour, rushed to the windows. There were wide sledges at the entrance, and a thick fog was rising from a trio of white horses. The sleigh was empty, because Volodya was already standing in the entryway, untying his hood with red, chilled fingers. His gymnasium coat, cap, galoshes, and hair at the temples were covered with frost, and from head to toe he emitted such a delicious frosty smell that, looking at him, you wanted to go cold and say: “brrr!” His mother and aunt rushed to hug and kiss him, Natalya fell at his feet and began to pull off his felt boots, the sisters raised a screech, the doors creaked, slammed, and Volodya's father, in just a waistcoat and with scissors in his hands, ran into the hall and shouted in fright:
And we were waiting for you yesterday! Did you get well? Safely? My God, my God, let him say hello to his father! What, I'm not a father, or what?
- Woof! Woof! roared Milord, a huge black dog, in a bass voice, thumping the walls and furniture with his tail.
Everything was mixed into one continuous joyful sound, which lasted about two minutes. When the first impulse of joy passed, the Korolevs noticed that in addition to Volodya, there was another one in the hall. small man, wrapped in scarves, shawls and hoods and covered with frost; he stood motionless in a corner in the shadow cast by one large fox coat.
- Volodechka, but who is this? asked the mother in a whisper.
— Ah! Volodya caught on. - This, I have the honor to introduce, is my comrade Chechevitsyn, a second-grade student ... I brought him with me to stay with us.
- Very nice, you are welcome! Father said happily. - Excuse me, I'm at home, without a frock coat ... Please! Natalya, help Mr. Cherepitsyn undress! My God, my God, let this dog go! This is punishment!
A little later, Volodya and his friend Chechevitsyn, stunned by the noisy meeting and still rosy from the cold, sat at the table and drank tea. The winter sun, penetrating through the snow and patterns on the windows, trembled on the samovar and bathed its pure rays in the rinsing cup. The room was warm, and the boys felt how in their chilled bodies, not wanting to give in to each other, warmth and frost tickled.
Well, it's almost Christmas! - Father said in a singsong voice, rolling a cigarette out of dark-red tobacco. - But how long ago was summer and mother cried, seeing you off? And you came... Time, brother, goes fast! You won’t have time to gasp when old age comes. Mr. Chibisov, eat, please, do not be shy! We simply have.
Volodya's three sisters, Katya, Sonya and Masha - the oldest of them was eleven years old - sat at the table and did not take their eyes off their new acquaintance. Chechevitsyn was the same age and height as Volodya, but not so plump and white, but thin, swarthy, covered with freckles. His hair was bristly, his eyes were narrow, his lips were thick, he was generally very ugly, and if he had not been wearing a school jacket, then in appearance he could be mistaken for a cook's son. He was gloomy, kept silent all the time and never smiled. The girls, looking at him, immediately realized that he must be a very smart and learned person. He thought about something all the time and was so busy with his thoughts that when he was asked about something, he shuddered, shook his head and asked to repeat the question.
The girls noticed that Volodya, always cheerful and talkative, this time spoke little, did not smile at all, and seemed not even glad that he had come home. While we were sitting at tea, he addressed the sisters only once, and even then with some strange words. He pointed his finger at the samovar and said:
“And in California they drink gin instead of tea.” He, too, was preoccupied with some thoughts, and judging by the looks he occasionally exchanged with his friend Tchechevitsyn, the boys' thoughts were in common.
After tea, everyone went to the nursery. The father and the girls sat down at the table and began to work, which was interrupted by the arrival of the boys. They made flowers and fringes for the Christmas tree out of multi-colored paper. It was exciting and noisy work. Each newly made flower was greeted by girls with enthusiastic cries, even cries of horror, as if this flower had fallen from the sky; papa also admired and occasionally threw the scissors on the floor, angry with them for being stupid. Mother ran into the nursery with a very preoccupied face and asked:
Who took my scissors? Again, Ivan Nikolaitch, did you take my scissors?
“Oh my God, they don’t even give you scissors!” answered Ivan Nikolaevich in a weeping voice, and, leaning back in his chair, assumed the pose of an offended man, but a minute later he was again admiring.
On his previous visits, Volodya had also been busy preparing for the Christmas tree, or running out into the yard to see how the coachman and the shepherd were making a snow mountain, but now he and Chechevitsyn paid no attention to the colored paper and never even went to the stable, but sat by the window and they began to whisper about something; then they both opened the geographical atlas together and began to examine some kind of map.
“First to Perm…” Chechevitsyn said quietly… “from there to Tyumen… then Tomsk… then… then… to Kamchatka… From here the Samoyeds” will be transported by boat across the Bering Strait… That's America for you... There are a lot of fur-bearing animals here.
- What about California? Volodya asked.
- California is lower ... If only to get to America, and California is just around the corner. You can get food for yourself by hunting and robbery.
Tchechevitsyn kept aloof from the girls all day and looked at them frowningly. After evening tea, it happened that he was left alone with the girls for five minutes. It was awkward to be silent. He coughed sternly, rubbed his right hand left hand looked sullenly at Katya and asked:
Samoyeds - name northern peoples(outdated).
Have you read Mine Reed?
No, I haven't read it... Listen, do you know how to skate?
Immersed in his thoughts, Chechevitsyn did not answer this question, but only puffed out his cheeks and made such a sigh as if he was very hot. He once again raised his eyes to Katya and said:
- When a herd of buffalo runs through the pampas, the earth trembles, and at this time the mustangs, frightened, kick and neigh.
“And also the Indians attack the trains. But worst of all are mosquitoes and termites.
- And what is it?
- It's like ants, only with wings. They bite very hard. Do you know who I am?
- Mr. Chechevitsyn.
- No. I am Montigomo Hawkclaw, leader of the invincibles.
Masha, the smallest girl, looked at him, then at the window, beyond which evening was already falling, and said in thought:
- And we cooked lentils yesterday.
The completely incomprehensible words of Chechevitsyn, and the fact that he was constantly whispering with Volodya, and the fact that Volodya did not play, but kept thinking about something - all this was mysterious and strange. And both older girls, Katya and Sonya, began to watch the boys vigilantly. In the evening, when the boys went to bed, the girls crept up to the door and overheard their conversation. Oh what did they know! The boys were going to run somewhere to America to mine gold; they had everything ready for the journey: a pistol, two knives, crackers, a magnifying glass for making fire, a compass, and four rubles of money. They learned that the boys would have to walk several thousand miles, and along the way fight tigers and savages, then mine gold and ivory, kill enemies, join sea robbers, drink gin, and eventually marry beauties and work plantations. Volodya and Chechevitsyn talked and interrupted each other in enthusiasm. At the same time, Chechevitsyn called himself: "Montigomo Hawk Claw", and Volodya - "my pale-faced brother."
“Look, don’t tell mom,” Katya said to Sonya, going to bed with her. “Volodya will bring us gold and ivory from America, and if you tell mom, they won’t let him in.”
On the eve of Christmas Eve, Chechevitsyn spent the whole day looking at a map of Asia and writing something down, while Volodya, languid, plump, as if stung by a bee, sullenly paced the rooms and ate nothing. And once, even in the nursery, he stopped in front of the icon, crossed himself and said:
- Lord, forgive me a sinner! God save my poor, unfortunate mother!
By evening he was crying. Going to sleep, he hugged his father, mother and sisters for a long time. Katya and Sonya understood what was the matter, but the youngest, Masha, understood nothing, absolutely nothing, and only when she looked at Chechevitsyn would she think and say with a sigh:
- When fasting, the nanny says, you need to eat peas and lentils.
Early in the morning on Christmas Eve, Katya and Sonya quietly got out of bed and went to see how the boys would flee to America. They crept up to the door.
"So you're not going?" Chechevitsyn asked angrily. "Say, won't you go?"
- God! Volodya wept softly. "How can I go?" I feel sorry for mom.
My pale-faced brother, I beg you, let's go!
You assured me that you would go, you lured me yourself, but how to go, so you chickened out.
I... I didn't get scared, but I... I feel sorry for my mother.
You say: will you go or not?
I'll go, just... just wait. I want to live at home.
"In that case, I'll go myself!" - decided Chechevitsyn - and I can do without you. And I also wanted to hunt tigers, fight! When so, give back my pistons!
Volodya wept so bitterly that the sisters could not stand it and also wept softly. There was silence.
"So you're not going?" Chechevitsyn asked again.
- I'll ... I'll go.
- So get dressed!
And Chechevitsyn, in order to persuade Volodya, praised America, growled like a tiger, pretended to be a steamer, scolded, promised to give Volodya all the ivory and all the lion and tiger skins.
And this thin, swarthy boy with bristly hair and freckles seemed to the girls unusual, wonderful. He was a hero, a determined, fearless man, and he roared so that, standing outside the door, one could really think that it was a tiger or a lion.
When the girls returned to their rooms and dressed, Katya, with eyes full of tears, said:
- Oh, I'm so scared!
Until two o'clock, when they sat down to dinner, everything was quiet, but at dinner it suddenly turned out that the boys were not at home. They sent them to the servants' quarters, to the stable, to the clerk's outhouse—they weren't there. They sent him to the village and they didn't find him there. And then they also drank tea without the boys, and when they sat down to supper, mother was very worried, she even cried. And at night they again went to the village, searched, walked with lanterns to the river. God, what a commotion!
The next day a constable came and wrote some paper in the canteen. Mom was crying.
But now the sledges stopped at the porch, and steam poured from the three white horses.
Volodya has arrived! someone shouted outside.
- Volodechka has arrived! Natalya yelled, running into the dining room.
And Milord barked in bass: “Woof! woof!" It turned out that the boys were detained in the city, in the Gostiny Dvor (they went there and kept asking where gunpowder was sold). Volodya, as soon as he entered the hall, sobbed and threw himself on his mother's neck. The girls, trembling, thought with horror about what would happen next, heard how papa took Volodya and Chechevitsyn to his office and talked with them for a long time; and mother also spoke and cried.
— Is it possible? Dad urged. "God forbid, they'll recognize you at the gymnasium, they'll expel you. And you're ashamed, Mr. Chechevitsyn!" Not good! You are the instigator, and I hope you will be punished by your parents. Is it so possible? Where did you spend the night?
— At the station! Chechevitsyn answered proudly.
Volodya then lay down, and a towel soaked in vinegar was applied to his head. They sent a telegram somewhere, and the next day a lady, Chechevitsyn's mother, arrived and took her son away.
When Chechevitsyn left, his face was stern, haughty, and, saying goodbye to the girls, he did not say a single word; I just took a notebook from Katya and wrote as a token of memory:
"Montigomo Hawkclaw".
Basic hallmark stories of Anton Pavlovich Chekhov is the emphasis on the main character traits of the hero in a detailed description of their personality and everyday life. Thanks to such a set of sometimes imperceptible features, the author managed to draw attention to inner world actors.
The humorous stories of A.P. Chekhov are fragments of a gigantic and often sad panorama, personifying the atmosphere of life in Russia at that time. The writer was attracted not by exotic phenomena in society or strange incidents, but by cases from the everyday life of Russian people, a kind of swamp, drowning in which residents do not at all notice that they have become quarrelsome, how mundane their aspirations and stupid goals are. The author discovered an endless source of funny, but in the monotonous and everyday worries of people, that is, in the routine that deafens his consciousness.
Many great writers, starting to read Chekhov's stories, were under his powerful influence., which was then transferred to the entire world literature. A feature of his literary method is the use of the "stream of consciousness" technique, which influenced such modernists as James Joyce. Among other things, his fairy tales, stories and plays almost always lack a final moral. Anton Pavlovich was convinced that he was not obliged to give the reader ready-made answers, but, on the contrary, he should ask meaningful questions.
At night, at 12 o'clock, Tverskoy boulevard two friends were walking. One is a tall, handsome brunette in a shabby bearskin coat and top hat, the other is a small, red-haired man in a red coat with white bone buttons. Both walked silently. The brunet whistled a mazurka lightly, the redhead looked sullenly at his feet and kept spitting to the side.
Shouldn't we sit? - the brunette finally suggested, when both friends saw the dark silhouette of Pushkin and the light above the gates of the Passion Monastery.
The redhead silently agreed, and the friends sat down.
Chapter 1
After the wedding, there was not even a light snack; the young drank a glass, changed clothes and went to the station. Instead of a merry wedding ball and dinner, instead of music and dancing, a pilgrimage ride two hundred miles away. Many approved of this, saying that Modest Alekseich was already in the ranks and not young, and a noisy wedding might, perhaps, seem not entirely decent; and it’s boring to listen to music when a 52-year-old official marries a girl who is barely 18. It was also said that Modest Alekseich, as a man with rules, started this trip to the monastery, in fact, in order to make it clear to his young wife that and in marriage he gives the first place to religion and morality.
The young people were escorted. A crowd of colleagues and relatives stood with glasses and waited for the train to leave to shout cheers, and Pyotr Leontyich, his father, in a top hat, in a teacher's tailcoat, already drunk and already very pale, kept reaching for the window with his glass and saying imploringly:
Dawn is coming soon.
Everything has long since fallen asleep. Only the young wife of the pharmacist Chernomordik, the owner of the b-sky pharmacy, does not sleep. She has gone to bed three times already, but sleep stubbornly does not come to her - and it is not known why. She sits at open window, in one shirt, and looks out into the street. She is stifling, bored, vexed... so vexing that she even wants to cry, but why, again, is unknown. Some kind of lump lies in the chest and now and then rolls up to the throat ... Behind, a few steps from the pharmacist, crouching against the wall, Chernomordik himself is snoring sweetly. A greedy flea has dug into the bridge of his nose, but he does not feel it and even smiles, as he dreams that everyone in the city is coughing and constantly buying drops from him Danish king. You can't wake him up now either with injections, or with a cannon, or with caresses.
I
Under Palm Sunday Vespers were going on in the Staro-Petrovsky Monastery. When willows began to be handed out, it was already past ten o'clock, the lights were dimmed, the wicks were burning, it was all in a fog. In the twilight of the church, the crowd swayed like the sea, and to Bishop Peter, who had been unwell for three days, it seemed that all the faces - old and young, both male and female - looked like one another, on everyone who came up for a willow , the same expression of the eyes. In the mist, no doors were visible, the crowd kept moving, and it seemed that there was no end to it and there would be no end. A female choir sang, a nun read the canon.
How stuffy, how hot! How long was the vigil! Bishop Peter is tired. His breathing was heavy, frequent, dry, his shoulders ached from fatigue, his legs trembled. And it was unpleasantly disturbing that the holy fool would occasionally cry out in the choirs. And then suddenly, as if in a dream or in delirium, it seemed to the bishop that in the crowd his own mother Maria Timofeevna, whom he had not seen for nine years, or an old woman who looked like a mother, came up to him in the crowd, and, having accepted a willow from him, walked away and all the time she looked at him cheerfully, with a kind, joyful smile, until she mingled with the crowd.
(Episode from the life of "Gracious Sovereigns")
Deadly boredom was written on the well-fed, shiny face of the gracious sovereign. He had just emerged from the arms of the afternoon Morpheus and did not know what to do. I didn’t want to think or yawn ... I got tired of reading even in time immemorial, it's too early to go to the theater, too lazy to go to the theater ... What should I do? What would be fun?
Some young lady has come! Yegor reported. - He asks you!
Young lady? Um... Who is this? All the same, however, - ask ...
While taking his evening stroll, Collegiate Assessor Miguev stopped near a telegraph pole and sighed deeply. A week ago, at this very spot, when he was returning from a walk to his house in the evening, his former maid Agnia caught up with him and said angrily:
Already, wait! I will bake you such a cancer that you will know how to destroy innocent girls! And I will give you a baby, and I will go to court, and I will explain to your wife ...
The hungry wolf got up to go hunting. Her cubs, all three of them, were sleeping soundly, huddled together and warming each other. She licked them and went.
Was already spring month March, but at night the trees cracked from the cold, as in December, and as soon as you stick out your tongue, you begin to pinch it strongly. The she-wolf was in poor health, suspicious; she shuddered at the slightest noise and kept thinking about how someone at home without her would not offend the wolf cubs. The smell of human and horse tracks, stumps, piled firewood and a dark manured road frightened her; it seemed to her as if people were standing behind the trees in the dark, and somewhere beyond the forest, dogs were howling.
Part one.
In the house of the widow Mymrina, in Pyatisobachy Lane, a wedding dinner. 23 people have dinner, of which eight do not eat anything, nod off and complain that they are "disturbed". Candles, lamps and a lame chandelier, rented from a tavern, burn so brightly that one of the guests sitting at the table, a telegraph operator, narrows his eyes coquettishly and now and then talks about electric lighting - neither to the village nor to the city. He prophesies a brilliant future for this lighting and electricity in general, but, nevertheless, the diners listen to him with some disdain.
Electricity ... - mutters the imprisoned father, looking blankly at his plate. - And in my opinion, electric lighting is nothing but a scam. They stick a piece of coal in there and think to look away! No, brother, if you give me illumination, then don't give me a coal, but something substantial, something incendiary, so that there is something to take on! You let the fire - understand? - fire, which is natural, not mental.
(From the chronicle of one city)
The earth pretended to be inferno. The afternoon sun burned with such zeal that even Reaumur, hanging in the excise office, got lost: he reached 35.8 ° and stopped in indecision ... Sweat poured from the townsfolk, like from hackneyed horses, and dried up on them; too lazy to wipe.
On the large market square, in sight of the houses with tightly closed shutters, there were two inhabitants: the treasurer Pocheshikhin and the intercessor for business (he is also the old correspondent of the "Son of the Fatherland") Optimov. Both were walking, and because of the heat they were silent. Optimov wanted to condemn the council for the dust and uncleanness of the market square, but, knowing the peace-loving disposition and moderate direction of the satellite, he was silent.
- Hey, you figure! - shouted a fat, white-bodied gentleman, seeing in the fog a tall and thin man with a thin beard and a large copper cross on his chest. - Give me a couple!
I, your honor, am not a bath attendant, I am a barber, sir. It's not my business to give steam. Would you order blood-sucking jars to be placed?
The fat gentleman stroked his crimson thighs, thought, and said:
The daughters of the real state councilor Bryndina, Kitty and Zina, rode along the Nevsky in a landau. Their cousin Marfusha, a little sixteen-year-old provincial landowner, who recently came to St. Petersburg to visit noble relatives and look at the "sights", rode with them. Next to her sat Baron Dronkel, a freshly washed and too visibly polished little man in a blue coat and blue hat. The sisters rode and looked askance at their cousin. The cousin both made them laugh and compromised them. The naive girl, who never rode in a landau and never heard the noise of the capital, examined with curiosity the upholstery in the carriage, the lackey's hat with galloons, screamed at each meeting with the horse-drawn carriage ... And her questions were even more naive and funnier ...
A small square near the Nativity Monastery, which is called Trubnaya, or simply Trumpet; on Sundays there is bargaining on it. Hundreds of sheepskin coats, bekesh, fur caps, and top hats swarm like crayfish in a sieve. You can hear the discordant singing of birds, reminiscent of spring. If the sun is shining and there are no clouds in the sky, then the singing and the smell of hay are felt more strongly, and this memory of spring excites the thought and takes it far, far away. Along one edge of the site stretches a row of carts. On the wagons there is no hay, no cabbage, no beans, but goldfinches, siskins, belladonnas, larks, black and gray blackbirds, tits, bullfinches. All this jumps in bad, home-made cages, looks with envy at free sparrows and chirps Goldfinches for a nickel, siskins are more expensive, the rest of the bird has the most indefinite value.
The village of Ukleevo lay in a ravine, so that from the highway and from the railway station only the bell tower and the chimneys of the cotton-printing factories were visible. When passers-by asked what kind of village it was, they were told:
This is the one where the deacon ate all the caviar at the funeral.
Once, at the wake of the manufacturer Kostyukov, the old sexton saw grainy caviar among the appetizers and began to eat it greedily; they pushed him, pulled him by the sleeve, but he seemed to be stiff with pleasure: he felt nothing and only ate. I ate all the caviar, and there were four pounds in the jar. And a lot of time has passed since then, the deacon died long ago, but everyone remembered about caviar. Was life so poor here, or did people not know how to notice anything except this unimportant event that happened ten years ago, but they didn’t tell anything else about the village of Ukleevo.
In the private boarding house m-me Zhevuzem strikes twelve. Boarders, lethargic and emaciated, hand in hand, walk decorously along the corridor. Cool ladies, yellow and freckled, with an expression of extreme anxiety on their faces, do not take their eyes off them and, despite the perfect silence, now and then shout out: "Medam! Silence!" *.
In the teacher's room, in this mysterious holy of holies, Zhevuzem herself and the mathematics teacher Dyryavin are sitting. The teacher gave a lesson a long time ago, and it's time for him to leave, but he stayed to ask the boss for a raise. Knowing the stinginess of the "old rogue", he raises the question of the increase not directly, but diplomatically.
I look at your face, Bianka Ivanovna, and remember the past ... - he says with a sigh. - What before, in our time, beauties were! Lord, what beauties! Suck your fingers! And now? The beauties have moved! There are no real women now, but all, God forgive me, are wagtails and sprats ... One is worse than the other ...
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