Zheltukhin main idea

Zheltukhin was sitting on a bush of grass, in the sun, in the corner between the porch and the wall of the house, and looked with horror at Nikita as he approached. Zheltukhin's head was thrown back, a beak with a yellow, full-length stripe lay on a thick goiter. Zheltukhin was all fluffed up, tucked his legs under his stomach. Nikita bent down to him, he opened his mouth to frighten the boy. Nikita placed it between his palms. It was still a gray starling - it must have tried to fly out of the nest, but clumsy wings could not restrain it, and it fell and huddled in a corner, on dandelion leaves pressed to the ground. Zheltukhin's heart was beating frantically. “You won’t have time to gasp,” he thought, “they’ll gobble up now.” He himself knew well how to burst worms, flies and caterpillars. The boy raised it to his mouth. Zheltukhin covered his black eyes with film, his heart began to jump under his feathers. But Nikita only breathed on his head and carried him into the house: that means he was full and decided to eat Zheltukhin a little later. Alexandra Leontyevna, seeing the starling, took it in the same way as Nikita, in her palms and breathed on her head.

- Still quite small, poor thing, - she said, - what a yellow-mouthed, Zheltukhin. The starling was placed on the windowsill of a window that was opened to the garden and covered with gauze. From the side of the room, the window was also half-curtained with gauze. Zheltukhin immediately hid in a corner, trying to show that life would not be sold cheaply. Outside, behind a white haze of gauze, leaves rustled, despicable sparrows fought on a bush - thieves, offenders. On the other hand, also from behind the gauze, Nikita looked; his eyes were large, moving, incomprehensible, charming.
"Gone, gone," thought Zheltukhin. But Nikita did not eat it until the evening, he only let flies and worms over the gauze.

“They are fattening,” thought Zheltukhini, looking askance at the red eyeless worm, which, like a snake, writhed in front of his very nose. “I won’t eat it, it’s not a real worm, it’s a hoax.”
The sun went down behind the leaves. Grey, sleepy light tightened the eyes, - getting stronger Zheltukhin clung to the windowsill with his claws. The eyes don't see anything anymore. The birds are silent in the garden. Sleepy, sweet smell of dampness and grass. The head goes deeper into the feathers. Ruffling angrily - just in case - Zheltukhin swayed a little forward, then on his tail and fell asleep. Sparrows woke him up, misbehaving, fighting on a lilac branch. Wet leaves hung in the gray light. A starling whistled sweetly, cheerfully, with a click in the distance. “I don’t have the strength, I want to eat, I’m even sick,” thought Zheltukhin, and he saw a worm half crawled into the crack of the window sill, jumped up to him, pecked at the tail, pulled it out, swallowed: “Wow, the worm was tasty.”
The light turned blue. The birds sang. And then, through the leaves, a warm, bright ray of the sun fell on Zheltukhin. "We'll live some more," thought Zheltukhin, and, jumping up, pecked at the fly and swallowed it. At that moment, steps thundered, Nikita came up and put his huge hand behind the gauze, unclenched his fingers, poured flies and worms onto the windowsill. Zheltukhin huddled in horror* into a corner, spread his wings, looked at his hand, but it hung over his head and hid behind the gauze, and strange, sucking, iridescent eyes were again looking at Zheltukhin. When Nikita left, Zheltukhin recovered and began to think: “So he didn’t eat me, but he could. So he doesn't eat birds. Well then, there is nothing to be afraid of. Zheltukhin ate a hearty meal, cleaned his feathers with his nose, jumped along the window sill, looking at the sparrows, spotted one old man with a torn head, and began to tease him, turn his head, whistle: fyuyut, chilik-chilik, fyuyut. Sparrow got angry, fluffed himself up and, with his beak open, rushed to Zheltukhin, poked into the gauze. “What, got it? That's it, thought Zheltukhin and waddled along the windowsill. Then Nikita appeared again, put his hand out, this time empty, and brought it too close. Zheltukhin jumped up, pecked his finger with all his strength, jumped back and prepared for a fight. But Nikita just opened his mouth and shouted: ha-ha-ha! So the day passed, - there was nothing to be afraid of, the food was good, but boring. Zheltukhin barely waited until dusk and slept that night with pleasure. The next morning, having eaten, he began to look out, as if to get out from behind the gauze. I went around the whole window, but there was no crack anywhere. Then he jumped to the saucer and began to drink, - he took water into his spout, threw back his head and swallowed - a ball rolled down his throat. The day was long. Nikita brought worms and cleaned the windowsill with a goose quill. Then the bald sparrow took it into his head to fight with a jackdaw, and she poked him like that - he dived like a pebble into the leaves, looked from there bristling. For some reason, a magpie flew right under the window, crackled, fussed, shook its tail, did nothing worthwhile. For a long time, tenderly, the robin sang about the hot sunlight, about honey porridge, - Zheltukhin even felt sad, but his throat was bubbling so much, he wanted to sing, - but where, not on the window, behind the net! .. He again went around the window sill and saw a terrible animal: it walked, crept on soft short paws, crawled along the floor with its belly. His head was round, with rare mustaches on end, and green eyes, narrow pupils burned with devilish malice. Zheltukhin even sat down, did not move. Vasily Vasilyevich the cat jumped softly, dug his long claws into the edge of the window sill, looked through the gauze at Zheltukhin and opened his mouth ... Lord!

Fangs stuck out in his mouth, longer than Zheltukhin's beak... The cat struck with his short paw, tore at the gauze... Zheltukhin's heart dived, his wings drooped... But at that time, just in time, Nikita appeared, grabbed the cat by the loose skin and threw it to the door. Vasily Vasilyevich howled in resentment and ran away dragging his tail. “There is no beast stronger than Nikita,” Zheltukhin thought after this incident. And when Nikita came up again, he allowed himself to be stroked on the head, although out of fear he nevertheless sat on the tail. This day is over too. The next morning, the very cheerful Zheltukhin again went to inspect the room and immediately saw a hole in the place where the cat tore the gauze with his claw. Zheltukhin stuck his head in there, looked around, climbed out, jumped into the flowing light air and, fluttering his wings, flew over the very floor. At the door he got up and in the second room, at the round table, saw four people. They ate - they took large pieces with their hands and put them in their mouths. All four turned their heads, without moving, looked at Zheltukhin. He realized that he needed to stop in the air and turn back, but he could not make this difficult turn throughout the flight, fell on a wing, rolled over and sat on the table, between a vase with vag and a sugar bowl ... And he saw in front of him Then, without hesitation, Zheltukhin he jumped up on the vase and from it on Nikita's shoulder and sat down, puckered up, even covered his eyes halfway with films. After sitting on Nikita's shoulder, Zheltukhin fluttered up to the ceiling, caught a fly, sat on a ficus in the corner, circled under the chandelier and, hungry, flew to his window, where fresh worms were prepared for him. Before evening, Nikita put a wooden house with a porch, a door and two windows on the windowsill. Zheltukhin liked that it was dark inside the house, he jumped in there, tossed and turned and fell asleep. And that very night, in the closet, the cat Vasily Vasilyevich, locked up under lock and key for attempted robbery, yelled with a hoarse meow and did not even want to catch mice, sat by the door and meowed in such a way that he himself was unpleasant.

So in the house, besides the cat and the hedgehog, a third living soul, Zheltukhin, began to live. He was very independent, smart and enterprising. He liked to listen to people talking, and when they sat down at the table, he listened, bowing his head, and uttered in a singsong voice: "Sasha," and bowed. Alexandra Leontievna assured that he bowed to her. Seeing Zheltukhin, mother always said to him: "Hello, hello, gray bird, energetic and lively." Zheltukhin immediately jumped up to his mother on the train of her dress and followed her, very pleased.

So he lived until autumn, grew up, became covered with black feathers shimmering with a crow's wing, learned to speak Russian well, lived almost all day in the garden, but at dusk he invariably returned to his house on the windowsill. In August, wild starlings lured him into a flock, taught him to fly, and when the leaves began to crumble in the garden, Zheltukhin - a little dawn - flew away from migratory birds across the sea to Africa.

Zheltukhin was sitting on a bush of grass in the corner, between the porch and the wall of the house, and looked with horror at Nikita as he approached.
Zheltukhin's head was thrown over his back, pecking with a yellow stripe in its entire length, he lay on a thick crop. Zheltukhin was all fluffed up, tucked his legs under his stomach. Nikita bent down to him, he opened his mouth to frighten the boy. Nikita placed it between his palms. It was still a gray starling, which must have tried to fly out of the nest. Ko was not restrained by clumsy wings, and he fell and huddled in a corner, on dandelion leaves pressed to the ground.
Zheltukhin's heart was beating desperately. “You won’t have time to gasp,” he thought, “they’ll gobble up now.” He himself knew well how to eat worms, flies and caterpillars.
The boy raised it to his mouth. Zheltukhin covered his black eyes with film, his heart jumped under the feathers. But Nikita only breathed on his head and carried him into the house. So he was full and decided to eat Zheltukhin a little later.
Mother, seeing the starling, took it in the same way as Nikita, in her hands and breathed on the head.
- Still quite small, poor thing, - she said, - what a yellow-mouthed, Zheltukhin.
The starling was placed on the windowsill of a window that was opened to the garden and covered with gauze. From the side of the room, the window was also half-curtained with gauze. Zheltukhin immediately hid in a corner, trying to show that life would not be sold cheaply.
Outside, behind a white gauze haze, leaves rustled, offending sparrows fought on a tree. On the other hand, also from behind the gauze, Nikita looked. His eyes were large, moving, incomprehensible. "Gone, gone," thought Zheltukhin. But Nikita did not eat it until the evening, he only put flies and worms on the gauze.
The sun went down behind the leaves. The gray light filled his eyes, and Zheltukhin's claws clutched the window-sill more and more tightly. The eyes don't see anything anymore. The birds are silent in the garden. Sleepy, sweet smell of dampness and grass. The head goes deeper into the feathers. Just in case, frowning angrily, Zheltukhin swayed a little forward, then on his tail and fell asleep.
The sparrows woke him up. They fought on a lilac branch. Wet leaves hung in the gray light. A starling whistled merrily in the distance. And now, through the leaves, a warm bright fell on Zheltukhin
cue ray of the sun. “I [we will come to life again,” thought Zheltukhn, I jumped up and pecked at a fly.
At that moment, footsteps thundered, Nikita came up and put his huge hand behind the gauze. Opening his fingers, he poured flies and worms onto the windowsill. Zheltukhin huddled in horror in a corner, spread his wings, looked at my hand, but it hung over his head and hid behind the gauze.
When Nikita left, Zheltukhin recovered and began to think: “So he didn’t eat me, but he could. So he doesn't eat birds. Well, then there is nothing to be afraid of. Zheltukhin ate a hearty meal, cleaned his feathers with his nose, jumped along the window sill, looking at the sparrows, spotted one old man and began to tease him, turn his head, and whistle.
Then Nikita reappeared, put out his hand, this time empty, and brought it too close. Zheltukhin jumped up, pecked his finger with all his strength, jumped back and prepared for a fight. But Nikita just laughed.
So in the house, in addition to the cat and the hedgehog, a third living soul began to live - Zheltukhin. He was very independent, smart and enterprising. He liked to listen to people talk, and when they sat down at the table, he listened, bowing his head, and bowed. Seeing his mother, Zheltukhin immediately jumped on the train of her dress and rode on it, very pleased.
So he lived until autumn, grew up, covered himself with black feathers, learned to speak Russian well, lived almost all day in the garden, but at dusk he invariably returned to his house on the windowsill. In August, starlings lured him into a flock, taught him to fly, and when the leaves began to crumble in the garden, Zheltukhin flew away with migratory birds across the sea to Africa. (569)
According to A. N. Tolstoy

Zheltukhin was sitting on a bush of grass, in the sun, in the corner, between the porch and the wall of the house, and looked with horror at Nikita as he approached.

Zheltukhin's head was thrown back, the beak with a yellow stripe in its entire length lay on a thick crop. Zheltukhin was all fluffed up, tucked his legs under his stomach. Nikita bent down to him, he opened his mouth to frighten the boy. Nikita placed it between his palms. It was still a gray starling, it must have tried to fly out of the nest, but clumsy wings could not restrain it, and it fell and huddled in a corner, on dandelion leaves pressed to the ground.

Zheltukhin's heart was beating desperately: "You won't have time to gasp," he thought, "they'll devour him now." He himself knew well how to dig for worms, flies and caterpillars.

The boy brought it to his mouth. Zheltukhin covered his black eyes with film; heart jumped under the feathers. And Nikita only breathed on his head and carried him into the house; so he was full and decided to eat Zheltukhin a little later.

Alexandra Leontyevna, seeing the starling, took it in the same way as Nikita, in her palms and breathed on her head.

“It’s still quite small, poor thing,” she said, “what a yellow-mouthed one, Zheltukhin.

The starling was placed on the windowsill of a window that was opened to the garden and covered with gauze. From the side of the room, the windows were also half-curtained with gauze. Zheltukhin immediately hid in a corner, trying to show that life would not be sold cheaply. Outside, behind a white haze of gauze, leaves rustled, despicable sparrows fought on a bush - thieves, offenders. On the other hand, also from behind the gauze, Nikita looked, his eyes were large, moving, incomprehensible, charming. "Gone, gone," thought Zheltukhin.

But Nikita did not eat it until the evening, he only let flies and worms over the gauze. “They are fattening,” thought Zheltukhin, and looked askance at the red, eyeless worm - he, like a snake, wriggled in front of his very nose. “I won’t eat it, the worm is not real, it’s a hoax.”

The sun went down behind the leaves. The grey, sleepy light filled my eyes—Zheltukhin clutched the window sill more and more tightly with his claws. The eyes don't see anything anymore. The birds are silent in the garden. Sleepy, sweet smell of dampness and grass. The head goes deeper into the feathers. Ruffling angrily - just in case, Zheltukhin swayed forward a little, then on his tail and fell asleep.

Sparrows woke him up - they were outrageous, they fought on a lilac branch. Wet leaves hung in the gray light. A starling whistled sweetly, cheerfully, with a click in the distance. “I don’t have the strength - I want to eat, I even feel sick,” thought Zheltukhin, and he saw a worm halfway into the crack of the window sill, jumped up to him, pecked at the tail, pulled it out, swallowed: “Wow, the worm was tasty.” The light turned blue. The birds sang. And then, through the leaves, a warm, bright ray of the sun fell on Zheltukhin. "We'll live some more," thought Zheltukhin, jumping up, pecked at the fly, and swallowed it.

At that moment, steps thundered, Nikita came up and put his huge hand behind the gauze; opening his fingers, he poured flies and worms onto the windowsill. Zheltukhin huddled in horror in a corner, spread his wings, looked at his hand, but it hung over his head and hid behind the gauze, and again strange, sucking, iridescent eyes looked at Zheltukhin. When Nikita left, Zheltukhin recovered and began to think: “So he didn’t eat me, but he could. So he doesn't eat birds. Well, then there is nothing to be afraid of.

Zheltukhin ate a hearty meal, brushed his feathers with his nose, jumped along the window sill, looking at the sparrows, spotted one old man with a torn head, and began to tease him, turn his head, whistle: fyuyut, chilik-chi-lik, fyuyut. Sparrow got angry, fluffed up and, with his beak open, rushed to Zheltukhin - he poked into the gauze. “What, I got it, this one,” thought Zheltukhin, and waddled along the windowsill.

Then Nikita appeared again, stuck out his hand, this time empty, and brought it too close. Zheltukhin jumped up, pecked his finger with all his strength, jumped back and prepared for a fight. But Nikita just opened his mouth and shouted: ha-ha-ha.

So the day passed - there was nothing to be afraid of, the food was good, but boring. Zheltukhin barely waited until dusk, slept that night with pleasure.

The next morning, after eating, he began to look out, as if to get out from behind the gauze. I went around the whole window, but there was no crack anywhere. Then he jumped to the saucer and began to drink - he took water into his spout, threw back his head and swallowed, a ball rolled down his throat.

The day was long. Nikita brought worms and cleaned the windowsill with a goose quill. Then a bald sparrow took it into his head to fight with a jackdaw, and she poked him like that - he dived like a pebble into the leaves, looked from there bristling.

For some reason, a magpie flew right under the window, crackled, fussed, shook its tail, did nothing worthwhile.

For a long time, tenderly, the robin sang about hot sunlight, about honey porridge - Zheltukhin even felt sad, but in his own throat it was gurgling, he wanted to sing - but where, not on the window, behind the screen!

He again walked around the window sill and saw a terrible animal—it was walking, sneaking on soft short paws, crawling along the floor with its belly. His head was round, with rare mustaches on end, and green eyes, narrow pupils burned with devilish malice. Zheltukhin even sat down, did not move.

The cat Vasily Vasilyevich jumped up gently, dug his long claws into the edge of the window sill - looked through the gauze at Zheltukhin and opened his mouth ... Lord ... in his mouth, longer than Zheltukhin's beak, fangs stuck out ... The cat hit with a short paw, tore at the gauze ... Zheltukhin's heart sank, his wings drooped... But at that moment, just in time, Nikita appeared, grabbed the cat by the loose skin, and flung it towards the door. Vasily Vasilyevich howled in resentment and ran away dragging his tail.

“There is no beast stronger than Nikita,” Zheltukhin thought after this incident, and when Nikita again approached, he allowed himself to be stroked on the head, although he still sat on his tail out of fear.

This day is over too. The next morning, the very cheerful Zheltukhin again went to inspect the room and immediately saw a hole in the place where the cat tore the gauze with its claw. Zheltukhin stuck his head in there, looked around, climbed out, jumped into the flowing light air and, finely fluttering his wings, flew over the very floor.

At the door he got up and in the second room, at the round table, he saw four people. They ate, they took large pieces with their hands and put them in their mouths. All four turned their heads and, without moving, looked at Zheltukhin. He realized that he needed to stop in the air and turn back, but he could not make this difficult turn, throughout the flight, - he fell on a wing, rolled over and sat down on the table, between a vase of jam and a sugar bowl ... And immediately he saw in front of himself Nikita. Then, without hesitation, Zheltukhin jumped up on the vase, and from it he sat down on Nikita's shoulder, ruffled his face, even half-covered his eyes with films.

After sitting on Nikita's shoulder, Zheltukhin fluttered up to the ceiling, caught a fly, sat on a ficus in the corner, circled under the chandelier and, hungry, flew to his window, where fresh worms were prepared for him.

Before evening, Nikita put a wooden house with a porch, a door and two windows on the windowsill. Zheltukhin liked that it was dark inside the house, he jumped in there, tossed and turned and fell asleep.

And that very night, in the closet, the cat Vasily Vasilyevich, locked up under lock and key for attempted robbery, yelled with a hoarse meow and did not even want to catch mice, sat by the door and meowed in such a way that he himself was unpleasant.

So in the house, in addition to the cat and the hedgehog, a third living soul began to live - Zheltukhin. He was very independent, smart and enterprising. He liked to listen to people talking, and when they sat down at the table, he listened, bowing his head, and uttered in a singsong voice: "Sasha," and bowed. Alexandra Leontievna assured that he bowed to her. Seeing Zheltukhin, mother always said to him: "Hello, hello, gray bird, energetic and lively." Zheltukhin immediately jumped up to his mother on the train of her dress and followed her, very pleased.

So he lived until autumn, grew up, became covered with black feathers shimmering with a crow's wing, learned to speak Russian well, lived almost all day in the garden, but at dusk he invariably returned to his house on the windowsill.

In August, wild starlings lured him into a flock, taught him to fly, and when the leaves began to crumble in the garden, Zheltukhin - just a dawn - flew away with migratory birds across the sea, to Africa.

The fulfillment of which I have to give you this penknife with twelve blades, very suitable for maritime work, and also in order to lose it.

After tea we went to the pond. Vasily Nikitievich, puffing his cheek in a special way, blew the sea march.

Mother laughed terribly at this, - she picked up her dress so as not to soak the hem in the dew. Behind him walked Arkady Ivanovich with oars and a hook on his shoulder.

On the shore of a huge, with meanders, pond, near the bath, was dug with a pole with an apple on top. A boat stood on the water, reflected in green and red stripes. Pond inhabitants swam in its shadow - water beetles, larvae, tiny tadpoles. Spiders with pads on their paws ran along the surface. On old willows, rooks looked down from their nests.

Vasily Nikitievich tied a personal admiral's standard to the lower end of the string - a red frog on its hind legs on a green field. Blowing on his cheek, he quickly began to sort out the line, the standard ran along the flagpole and turned around right at the apple tree. Rooks rose from the nest and from the branches, screaming in alarm.

Nikita entered the boat and sat on the helm. Arkady Ivanovich took up the oars. The boat settled, swayed, separated from the shore and went along the mirror water of the pond, where willows were reflected, green shadows under them, birds, clouds. The boat glided between heaven and earth. A column of mosquitoes appeared above Nikita's head; they jostled and flew after the boat.

Full swing, the most complete! shouted Vasily Nikitievich from the shore.

Mother waved her hand and laughed. Arkady Ivanovich leaned on the oars, and out of the green, still low reeds with a quack, in horror, half-flying through the water, two ducks ran across the water.

Boarding, frog admiral. Hurrra! shouted Vasily Nikitievich.

ZHELTUKHIN

Zheltukhin sat on a bush of grass, in the sun, in the corner, between the porch and the wall of the house, and looked with horror at Nikita as he approached.

Zheltukhin's head was thrown back, the beak with a yellow stripe in its entire length lay on a thick crop.

Zheltukhin was all fluffed up, tucked his legs under his stomach. Nikita bent down to him, he opened his mouth to frighten the boy. Nikita placed it between his palms. It was still a gray starling - it must have tried to fly out of the nest, but its clumsy wings could not restrain it, and it fell and huddled in a corner, on dandelion leaves pressed to the ground.

Zheltukhin's heart was beating desperately: "You won't have time to gasp," he thought, now they'll gobble up. He himself knew well how to eat worms, flies and caterpillars.

The boy raised it to his mouth. Zheltukhin covered his black eyes with film, his heart jumped under the feathers. But Nikita only breathed on his head and carried him into the house: that means he was full and decided to eat Zheltukhin a little later.

Alexandra Leontyevna, seeing the starling, took it in the same way as Nikita, in her palms and breathed on her head.

Still quite small, poor thing,” she said, “what a yellow-mouthed one, Zheltukhin.

The starling was placed on the windowsill of a window that was opened to the garden and covered with gauze. From the side of the room, the window was also half-curtained with gauze. Zheltukhin immediately hid in a corner, trying to show that life would not be sold cheaply.

Outside, behind a white haze of gauze, leaves rustled, despicable sparrows fought on a bush - thieves, offenders. On the other hand, also from behind the gauze, Nikita looked, his eyes were large, moving, incomprehensible, charming. "Gone, gone," thought Zheltukhin.

But Nikita did not eat it until the evening, he only let flies and worms over the gauze. “They are fattening,” thought Zheltukhin, and looked askance at the red, eyeless worm, “he, like a snake, writhed in front of his very nose. “I won’t eat him, the worm won’t

Page 17 of 21

Story: Nikita's childhood

RAISING THE FLAG

Nikita was awakened by sparrows. He woke up and listened to the oriole whistling in a honey voice, as if in a tune with water. The window was open, the room smelled of grass and freshness, the sun's light eclipsed by wet leaves. A breeze blew, and dewdrops fell on the windowsill. Arkady Ivanovich's voice was heard from the garden:
“Admiral, will you open your eyes soon?”
- I'm getting up! Nikita shouted, and lay still for a minute: it had been so good, waking up, to listen to the whistle of the oriole, to look out the window at the wet leaves.
Today was Nikita's birthday, the eleventh of May, and the raising of the flag on the pond was scheduled. Nikita slowly—didn’t want time to run out—dressed himself in a new shirt made of blue-and-flowered chintz, in new damned leather pants, so strong that they could catch on any knot in a tree—they would hold up. Feeling sorry for himself, he brushed his teeth.
In the dining room, on a fresh snowy tablecloth, there was a large bouquet of lilies of the valley, the whole room was filled with their smell. Mother attracted Nikita and, forgetting his admiral's rank, for a long time, as if she had not seen him for a year, looked into his face and kissed him. Father straightened his beard, rolled his eyes and reported:
“I have the honor, Your Excellency, to inform you that according to the Gregorian calendar, as well as according to the calculations of astronomers around the globe, today you turned ten years old, in fulfillment of which I have to hand you this penknife with twelve blades, very suitable for maritime affairs, and also to lose it.
After tea we went to the pond. Vasily Nikitievich, puffing his cheek in a special way, blew the sea march.
Mother laughed terribly at this, - she picked up her dress so as not to soak the hem in the dew. Behind him walked Arkady Ivanovich with oars and a hook on his shoulder.
On the shore of a huge, with meanders, pond, near the bath, was dug with a pole with an apple on top. A boat stood on the water, reflected in green and red stripes. Pond dwellers swam in its shadow - water beetles, larvae, tiny tadpoles. Spiders with pads on their paws ran along the surface. On old willows, rooks looked down from their nests.
Vasily Nikitievich tied a personal admiral's standard to the lower end of the string - a red frog on its hind legs on a green field. Blowing on his cheek, he quickly began to sort out the line, the standard ran along the flagpole and turned around right at the apple tree. Rooks rose from the nest and from the branches, screaming in alarm.
Nikita entered the boat and sat on the helm. Arkady Ivanovich took up the oars. The boat settled, swayed, separated from the shore and went along the mirror water of the pond, where willows were reflected, green shadows under them, birds, clouds. The boat glided between heaven and earth. A column of mosquitoes appeared above Nikita's head - they jostled and flew after the boat.
- Full speed, the most full! shouted Vasily Nikitievich from the shore.
Mother waved her hand and laughed. Arkady Ivanovich leaned on the oars, and out of the green, still low reeds with a quack, in horror, half-flying through the water, two ducks ran across the water.
“Boarding, frog admiral. Hurrra! shouted Vasily Nikitievich.

ZHELTUKHIN

Zheltukhin sat on a bush of grass, in the sun, in the corner, between the porch and the wall of the house, and looked with horror at Nikita as he approached.
Zheltukhin's head was thrown back, the beak with a yellow stripe in its entire length lay on a thick crop.
Zheltukhin was all fluffed up, tucked his legs under his stomach. Nikita bent down to him, he opened his mouth to frighten the boy. Nikita placed it between his palms. It was still a little gray starling - it must have tried to fly out of the nest, but clumsy wings could not restrain it, and it fell and huddled in a corner, on dandelion leaves pressed to the ground.
Zheltukhin’s heart was beating desperately: “You won’t have time to gasp,” he thought, they’ll gobble it up now. He himself knew well how to eat worms, flies and caterpillars.
The boy raised it to his mouth. Zheltukhin covered his black eyes with film, his heart jumped under the feathers. But Nikita only breathed on his head and carried him into the house: that means he was full and decided to eat Zheltukhin a little later.
Alexandra Leontyevna, seeing the starling, took it in the same way as Nikita, in her palms and breathed on her head.
“It’s still quite small, poor thing,” she said, “what a yellow-mouthed one, Zheltukhin.
The starling was placed on the windowsill of a window that was opened to the garden and covered with gauze. From the side of the room, the window was also half-curtained with gauze. Zheltukhin immediately hid in a corner, trying to show that life would not be sold cheaply.
Outside, behind a white gauze haze, leaves rustled, despicable sparrows fought on a bush - thieves, offenders. On the other hand, also from behind the gauze, Nikita looked, his eyes were large, moving, incomprehensible, charming. "Gone, gone," thought Zheltukhin.
But Nikita did not eat it until the evening, he only let flies and worms over the gauze. “They are fattening,” thought Zheltukhin, and looked askance at the red, eyeless worm, “he, like a snake, writhed in front of his very nose. “I won’t eat it, the worm is not real, it’s a hoax.”
The sun went down behind the leaves. The gray, sleepy light filled my eyes—Zheltukhin clutched the window sill more and more tightly with his claws. The eyes don't see anything anymore. The birds are silent in the garden. Sleepy, sweet smell of dampness and grass. The head goes deeper into the feathers.
Ruffling angrily - just in case, Zheltukhin swayed forward a little, then on his tail and fell asleep.
The sparrows woke him up - they were outrageous, they fought on a lilac branch. Wet leaves hung in the gray light. A starling whistled sweetly, cheerfully, with a click in the distance. “I don’t have the strength - I want to eat, I’m even sick,” thought Zheltukhin, and he saw a worm half crawled into the crack of the window sill, jumped up to him, pecked at the tail, pulled it out, swallowed: “Wow, the worm was delicious.”
The light turned blue. The birds sang. And then, through the leaves, a warm bright ray of the sun fell on Zheltukhin. "We'll live some more," thought Zheltukhin, jumping up, pecked at the fly, and swallowed it.
At that moment, steps thundered, Nikita came up and put his huge hand behind the gauze; opening his fingers, he poured flies and worms onto the windowsill. Zheltukhin huddled in horror in a corner, spread his wings, looked at his hand, but it hung over his head and hid behind the gauze, and strange, sucking, iridescent eyes were again looking at Zheltukhin.
When Nikita left, Zheltukhin recovered and began to think: “So he didn’t eat me, but he could. So he doesn't eat birds. Well, then there is nothing to be afraid of.
Zheltukhin ate a hearty meal, cleaned his feathers with his nose, jumped along the window sill, looking at the sparrows, spotted one old man with a torn head, and began to tease him, turn his head, whistle: fyuyut, chilik-chilik, fyuyut. Sparrow got angry, fluffed up and, with his beak open, rushed to Zheltukhin - he poked into the gauze. “What, I got it, that's it,” thought Zheltukhin, and waddled along the windowsill.
Then Nikita reappeared, put out his hand, this time empty, and brought it too close. Zheltukhin jumped up, pecked his finger with all his strength, jumped back and prepared for a fight. But Nikita just opened his mouth and shouted: ha-ha-ha.
So the day passed - there was nothing to be afraid of, the food was good, but boring. Zheltukhin barely waited until dusk and slept that night with pleasure.
The next morning, having eaten, he began to look out, as if to get out from behind the gauze. I went around the whole window, but there was no crack anywhere. Then he jumped to the saucer and began to drink - he took water into his spout, threw back his head and swallowed - a ball rolled down his throat.
The day was long. Nikita brought worms and cleaned the windowsill with a goose quill. Then the bald sparrow took it into his head to fight with a jackdaw, and she poked him like that - he dived like a pebble into the leaves, looked from there bristling.
For some reason, a magpie flew right under the window, crackled, fussed, shook its tail, did nothing worthwhile.
For a long time, tenderly, the robin sang about hot sunlight, about honey porridge - Zheltukhin even felt sad, but in his own throat it was bubbling, he wanted to sing - but where, not on the window, behind the screen! ..
He again went around the window sill and saw a terrible animal: it was walking, sneaking on soft short paws, crawling along the floor with its stomach. His head was round, with rare mustaches on end, and green eyes, narrow pupils burned with devilish malice. Zheltukhin even sat down, did not move.
The cat Vasily Vasilyevich gently jumped up, dug his long claws into the edge of the window sill - looked through the gauze at Zheltukhin and opened his mouth ... Lord ... in his mouth, longer than Zheltukhin's beak, fangs stuck out ... The cat hit with a short paw, tore at the gauze ... Zheltukhin's heart dived, his wings drooped ... But at that moment, just in time, Nikita appeared, grabbed the cat by the loose skin and threw it to the door. Vasily Vasilyevich howled in resentment and ran away dragging his tail.
“There is no beast stronger than Nikita,” Zheltukhin thought after this incident, and when Nikita again approached, he allowed himself to be stroked on the head, although he nevertheless sat on the tail out of fear.
This day is over too. The next morning, quite cheerful Zheltukhin again went to inspect the room and immediately saw a hole in the place where the cat had torn the gauze with his claw. Zheltukhin stuck his head in there, looked around, climbed out, jumped into the liquid light air and, finely fluttering its wings, flew over the very floor.
At the door he got up and in the second room, at the round table, he saw four people. They ate, they took large pieces with their hands and put them in their mouths. All four turned their heads and, without moving, looked at Zheltukhin. He realized that he needed to stop in the air and turn back, but he could not make this difficult, all-fly, turn - he fell on a wing, rolled over and sat on the table, between a vase of jam and a sugar bowl ... And immediately he saw Nikita in front of him . Then, without hesitation, Zheltukhin jumped up on the vase, and from there he sat down on Nikita's shoulder, ruffled his face, and even covered his eyes halfway with films.
After sitting on Nikita's shoulder, Zheltukhin fluttered up to the ceiling, caught a fly, sat on a ficus in the corner, circled under the chandelier and, hungry, flew to his window, where fresh worms were prepared for him.
Before evening, Nikita put a wooden house with a porch, a door and two windows on the windowsill. Zheltukhin liked that it was dark inside the house, he jumped in there, tossed and turned and fell asleep.
And that very night, in the closet, the cat Vasily Vasilyevich, locked up for attempted robbery, yelled with a hoarse meow and did not even want to catch mice, sat by the door and mewed in such a way that he himself was unpleasant.
So in the house, in addition to the cat and the hedgehog, a third living soul began to live - Zheltukhin. He was very independent, smart and enterprising. He liked to listen to people talking, and when they sat down at the table, he listened, bowing his head, and uttered in a singsong voice: "Sasha," and bowed. Alexandra Leontievna assured that he bowed to her. Seeing Zheltukhin, mother always said to him: "Hello, hello, gray bird, energetic and lively." Zheltukhin immediately jumped up to his mother on the train of her dress and followed her, very pleased.
So he lived until autumn, grew up, became covered with black feathers shimmering with a crow's wing, learned to speak Russian well, lived almost all day in the garden, but at dusk he invariably returned to his house on the windowsill.
In August, wild starlings lured him into a flock, taught him to fly, and when the leaves began to crumble in the garden, Zheltukhin - at a little dawn - flew away with migratory birds across the sea, to Africa.