Felix Krivin - simple stories. Read the book Scientific Tales for free - Krivin Felix

Krivin Felix Davidovich

Simple stories

Felix Krivin

Simple stories

GREETINGS FROM LITERATURE

Nekrasov lives on our stairs. Not a writer, of course. And Belinsky lives on our stairs - he’s also not a critic, but just like that. And so Belinsky (not ours) wrote an article about Nekrasov (also not ours). Actually, he wrote it a long time ago, but we only recently learned about it.

Our Belinsky says:

It’s inconvenient to praise, but it’s written well. I signed up for the library specifically to read. I'll read it and write it out.

“We need to sign up for ourselves,” says our Nekrasov. - I wonder how your my...

Nekrasov - that one - released a collection. Either Moscow or Leningrad, in a word, according to one of the cities. True, he did not write the entire collection; they were still there, not from our stairs. And Belinsky (that one) take it and destroy the article.

Our says:

There are about ten of them in the collection, and there is only one about them all.

Well, mine probably wrote something else too. In addition to the collection.

It was our Nekrasov who stood up for his own. Who else will stand up for him?

Do you think Belinsky only wrote about this collection? He also talks about others, but I don’t remember their names.

And it’s true that you can’t save enough brains to remember everyone. Here, at least from your own stairs.

We have enough residents on the stairs, and everyone strives to be remembered. One says: it’s easy to remember me, because, he says, my last name is Mendeleev. Why, I say, it’s easy, the last name is quite long. And he: it was great chemist. You should, I say, come up with something more interesting. Commander Mendeleev. Or an astronaut.

But I remembered. Through this very chemistry. Now when I hear about chemistry, I remember Mendeleev and laugh.

Everyone wants their name to be heard. It’s easy to sound like Nekrasov - under the same name. And with Belinsky. As soon as they start sounding on the stairs - it’s almost an hour, and everything is about literature.

Now, says Belinsky, the criticism is no longer the same. It’s not like there’s an article about the whole collection.

What about collections? - Nekrasov gives in. - Who writes them now, collections?

In a word, conversation.

I also went to the library.

Give me, I say, something under my name.

Which I don't think happens. But what if?..

I didn't expect it, to be honest. And she endures it. Apparently, we have a lot of writers, no matter what surname you point at...

I leafed through a book of poetry.

Don’t you have any information about him? Even a small article?

Two articles by Belinsky. Dobrolyubova. Chernyshevsky. Saltykova. Shchedrin...

And everything about him? About one?

About one, it turns out.

From then on we had a conversation between the three of us. Let's get together - Belinsky, Nekrasov and I, Koltsov - and let's talk about literature! Finally, I felt like a human being and walked through life more cheerfully.

I recently met Mendeleev.

So, how's your chemistry? - I laugh. - Greetings from literature!

Some are driving, some are buying rubles, and the rest are all drinking. We sit at a table and have a conversation among ourselves.

One of us has returned from England.

From the UK?

The devil knows. From England, he says. From a tourist trip.

We had one in Spain. Also on a ticket.

This one, from England, was in prison there.

On a trip?

I’m telling you: their prison is a museum... No, not like that. The museum is a prison. Tower.

I've been to prison. But I didn’t have to go to the museum.

There, in this Tower, everything remained as it was in prison.

And are visits allowed?

They don't have dates, but visits. This is a museum.

But if nothing has changed...

This has not changed for visitors. Their staff are dressed as jailers and prisoners. Some are jailers, others are prisoners. The similarity is amazing. Our guy, who came there, specifically asked whether they were real or just put there for show.

They don’t remember themselves. Either they are working in the museum, or they are actually sitting. So, you know, everything is convincing.

Great Britain, you can't say anything!

Yes, it’s good while driving, it’s good when buying rubles, it’s good somewhere on a tourist trip.

But it’s best like this, at a table.

True, you don’t always remember where you’re sitting.

Who are you sitting with?

Why are you sitting?

Like those in the Tower.

RESTAURANT DIRECTOR

Hello, is this a restaurant? Is this the restaurant director?

You just had to say: “You have the wrong number.” But I wanted to be a restaurant director.

Yes it's me. Director.

Comrade Director, the prosecutor is speaking to you.

Before he could take office, he was already a prosecutor. This is what it means to be a restaurant director!

I'm listening to you, Comrade Prosecutor.

No, I'm listening to you. What do you feed people? Have you tried this yourself? What about the portions? Do you have a restaurant or kindergarten? Are these portions for an adult? Prices are for adults and portions are for children.

I will take care of this personally, Comrade Prosecutor.

Take it personally. Otherwise you will answer personally. And forget to give change. Do you have crooks or honest employees?

I don’t know for sure, I’m here recently, Comrade Prosecutor.

OK. Work for now.

The other end hung up. And they hung it with that.

The restaurant director was not afraid because he was not a restaurant director. He even rejoiced: how he played a prank on the prosecutor! The prosecutor mistook him for the director of the restaurant. For a real restaurant director!

And the prosecutor on the other end of the line was also jubilant. Director, director! He believed that the prosecutor was talking to him! How can you not believe that the prosecutor is talking to you when you work as a restaurant director!

DESK LIFE

Between the stove and the wall, life is baked; between the floor and the ground, life is underground.

What about between the chair and the table? Tabletop? Pristolnaya?

There, between the chair and the table, there lived one employee. By last name Varfolomeev or Petukhov - something like that.

He sat facing the table and his back to the chair, so the table was always the center of attention for him, and he even sometimes forgot about the chair. He will sit down and forget.

The table, of course, has a wider scale, but the chair, no matter how wide it is, does not represent any public interest. And no matter how much you squeak about this, nothing will change...

And yet you creak. You creak all day, and only then, so to speak, a postscript, you start thinking: why is it like this?

Time, however, passed, and at some point the life of Petukhov, or, say, Varfolomeev, began to turn from a table life into a table life. Either the creaking did its job, or something was invented after the creaking, in a postscript, but only the table in Varfolomeev-Petukhov’s field of vision began to move away and at the same time become smaller, and the chair, not only to get closer, there was nowhere for it to get closer, but how to grow closer to your personal mission and at the same time grow. And Petukhov-Varfolomeev began to come to the conviction that the main thing is not what is on his table, but what is on his chair.

But it must be said that by the nature of his service this employee was in charge of discoveries. Discoveries are made by great people, and small people confirm them. It all depends on what kind of resolution to write: I authorize or prohibit.

The words, by the way, are similar, each with eight letters, but despite all this similarity - what a difference! This is where you have to consult the chair. Since it is lower, it is closer to those places that you will get if you fall off the chair. The chair just covers these places, and when you fly off, they will remain uncovered.

Wait a minute to open,” the chair creaks. - First, read the history: so many people have burned to death during our openings, but so far no one has suffered from the closures.

Oak, oak, what a thought he gave. Why do we need an opening when we need cover?

And the opening, having never opened, was closed.

Well, now it is, of course, open.

Petukhov-Varfolomeev even wrote memoirs about this. About how he discovered the discovery. Because the opening has already been opened, and now you can safely open it.

CONFESSION OF A MAN SITTING ON A BITCH

Here we are cutting off the branch on which we are sitting. We are all hereditary harvesters. Our grandfathers also cut branches, but in such an ancient way that we still have to chop and chop them.

And in the sukpromkhoz I have a girl who is the beauty of the entire suktrust. You look at her and you want to get married right away. I would have gotten married long ago, but our foreman gave a warning:

Until we cut off the branch on which we are sitting, don’t even think about marriage.

You may not think about marriage, but children are born. The first one has already been born.

The foreman, of course, is dissatisfied:

What are you, sons of bitches? It’s the end of the quarter, the end of the month, and what they’ve come up with is to give birth to children!

I was embarrassed and took on increased obligations. Here the second son was born. The branch was strong, but the man was weak.

Time for themes time goes by. Our eldest is already a cutter himself, the middle one is learning to be a cutter, and the youngest is still sitting on the potty. He sits and is already thinking; where will he sit tomorrow? When they cut down the branch on which he will sit tomorrow, where will he sit tomorrow?

Let him think while he sits on the potty. When he grows up, he picks up an ax and has no time to think.

AS SIMPLE AS MOOOING

Once upon a time there lived a wizard. He could turn sand into sugar, and plain water into milk, but did not do this because he believed that miracles did not happen.

He once went to the ends of the world. He came, dangled his legs over the edge and suddenly felt someone standing nearby. The wizard squinted his eyes and saw a rooster perched on the very edge and calmly pecking at the stars.

Stop! - exclaimed the wizard. - You will leave us without stars!

Sorry,” the rooster was embarrassed. - But at the same time, you must agree; There’s nothing more to peck here.

They started talking. It turns out that the rooster was not a rooster at all, he was a man, and he had a wife, very beautiful woman. He loved her so much that his friends began to laugh at him. And one of them, a sorcerer by training, turned him into a rooster. And now he likes all the chickens, that's why he ran to the ends of the earth.

If only someone would cast a spell on me,” the rooster sighed. - I could return to my wife and live like a human being again...

The wizard also sighed:

Unfortunately, miracles do not happen.

They walked along the edge of the world, as if along the shore big river. Every now and then the rooster pushed the wizard in the side:

Look how pretty the chicken is! - and immediately began to shame himself: - Oh, what I am after all... Unscrupulous, unlucky...

Late in the evening we came across a bear's den.

Come in,” the bear invited. - Although there is nothing special to treat. At the end of the world with food - you know...

How did you get to the end of the world?

The fact is that I am not a bear, but a rooster. I sang and made pretty good money. It’s so wonderful to be a rooster,” the bear sighed and looked at the rooster, looking for sympathy. - If it weren’t for this honey... I can’t see it! I didn’t have enough grain, I wanted to try honey...

The bear fell silent. He was ashamed to tell what happened next. But once I started, I need to finish it.

Carefully, so as not to wake the bees, I climbed into the hive for honey. And as soon as I began to try, I suddenly felt that something was happening to me.

The bear turned away and began blowing his nose into a rag.

“You can imagine,” he continued, “my feathers and wings disappeared somewhere, and instead of them, wool and these paws appeared. And most importantly, I lost my voice. Listen here.

The bear roared so loudly that the earth shook.

The wizard shook his head:

It's unlikely that this will work. After all, miracles don't happen.

“Hello to honest company,” was heard from above, and a man looked into the den.

Who are you? - the bear was scared. - Not a hunter for an hour?

No, what kind of hunter am I? I'm not a person at all. Born a bear, grew old a bear. Well, in my old age I wanted to become a human being. I thought it was easier for a person, they give a pension to a person. I just see now - oh, it’s not an easy thing to be a human being! So I’m walking around, looking for someone who can turn me into a bear.

The wizard spread his hands: “There are no miracles.” They are sitting in a bear’s den, and everyone is in such a mood...

Oh, if only I could become a man! - the rooster laments.

If only I could become a rooster! - the bear dreams.

If only I could become a bear! - the man sighs.

The wizard got tired of this, and he waved his hand:

Oh, yes, you all can be whoever you want!

And then everyone became whoever they wanted. Because it was not just anyone who wished this, but a wizard. The rooster became a man. The bear is a rooster.

Man is a bear.

The wizard looked - a rooster, a bear and a man were sitting in a den - and sighed:

I told you that miracles don’t happen!

If I were an ermine

If I were an ermine, I would walk around like a king, and everyone would be surprised where I got my fur coat, and everyone would ask: “Tell me, where did you buy this fur coat, who gave it to you, who sent it to you, from you?” , probably rich relatives? And I would walk around in an ermine fur coat, in a fur coat made of pure ermine, because I would be an ermine myself, and I would answer: “No, I didn’t buy this fur coat anywhere, and no one gave it to me, and no one sent it, I I wear an ermine coat, because, you see, I am an ermine myself.” But they, of course, wouldn’t believe me, because you see an ermine every day, and they would ask: “Oh, please, let us wear this fur coat!” And I would refuse, I would categorically refuse everyone: the hare, the gopher, the wolf... And the wolf? No, I probably wouldn’t be able to refuse a wolf, it’s very difficult to refuse a wolf, he would probably take off my fur coat...

If I were a wolf, I would take off the fur coat from every ermine, and from a marten, and even from a hare, although a hare has a very Bad quality, she sheds all the time and barely lasts for one season. But I would still take off his fur coat, because I would be a wolf, and a wolf can afford it, a wolf can afford absolutely everything, except the pleasure of climbing a tree. Wolves don’t climb trees, although, of course, they would really like to, they wouldn’t refuse, but where can they go? Monkeys climb trees, and wolves run on the ground, and they will never climb a tree!

If I were a monkey, I would never go down to the ground, I would jump on the branches and scream and squeal and throw bananas from above, trying to hit someone in the head. And the other monkeys would also squeal and throw themselves, and we would compete to see who would squeal loudest and who would hit the fastest, and would be happy that no one could get us in the tree. Maybe a giraffe, because she herself is like a tree, because her neck is so long that you can climb and climb on it and still won’t reach the end.

If I were a giraffe, I would not bow my head to anyone, I would look down on everyone, I would have one like this Long neck. And it wouldn’t cost me anything to look over the fence, and I would see what’s inside, and there must definitely be something inside, because fences exist for a reason - but, of course, not for those who have such a long neck. And no one could reach me, because to do this they would have to jump very high, and not everyone can do this.

If I were a leopard, I would, of course, succeed. I would jump on this giraffe's neck and bite its head off in one second. And then he would jump onto a tree and bite off the heads of all the monkeys, and at the same time the wolf, so that he would not take away other people’s fur coats, and at the same time the ermine, so that he would not boast of his fur coat. If I were a leopard, no one would be afraid of me - of course, except the lion, because the lion is terrible for everyone. When you meet a lion, you want to become small and unnoticeable, you want to bury yourself in the ground like a mole.

If I were a mole, I would bury myself in the ground every day. I would be digging there, underground, and I would not be at all interested in what was happening here in this world. And who took someone's fur coat, and who bit off someone's head, all this would be of no use to me, I would rummage in the ground, rummage and rummage - and only sometimes stick my head out to see how the grass grows there and how the sheep nibble on it . The sheep walk across the field and nibble the grass and warm their backs in the sun, and they may not think about anything, although, of course, they do think, sometimes they think so!..

If I were a ram!.. But I am a ram...

Happy regiment

“Happiness is a double-edged sword: one in the hand, the other on the back of the neck,” says the mole Slepysh, and there is a considerable amount of truth in these words. In the midst of bliss, something is bound to hit you on the head.

For Polchka, the height of bliss began a long time ago, but the height of it came only today, when the squirrel Veksha not only nodded to him and did not just ask how he was doing, but when she sat down next to him to talk in detail about everything.

Felix Krivin. I discovered this name quite early, when I was still a middle school student. In my aunt Natalya Zaitseva's library there was a small book of his miniatures. It was called “Half-Tales” and was published in Uzhgorod in 1964. I read it twenty times! Or even thirty! Her wise humor accompanies me to this day. Unfortunately, the name of Felix Krivin, who left behind a good two dozen such small books, is little known to the modern reader. So, I decided to slightly expand the circle of readers and admirers of Krivin. I give you the traditional good Friday smile.

TOUGH CHICKEN

Before the chicken had time to hatch, he immediately received a reprimand for breaking an egg. My God, where did he get such manners from? Obviously it's something hereditary...

RESPONSIBILITY

“We are responsible for those we have tamed,” said the sheep who raised the wolf. These were her last words...

CHOICE OF PROFESSION

It was quiet. It was dark. In the darkness - through the window - the yellow pupils of the stars glowed. In the silence - outside the window - there were some rustling sounds.

The mouse said: “When I grow up big, I will definitely become a cat...”

WATCH

Understanding the importance and responsibility of their life mission, the clock did not tick: they stood guard over time.

SAVOR

The photographic film recognized the light too early and therefore could not show itself properly at work.

POWER OF PERSUASION

“The room must be open,” the doorknob remarks thoughtfully when the door is opened.

“The room must be closed,” she concludes philosophically as the door is closed.

The persuasion of a doorknob depends on who presses it.

STUMP

The stump stood right next to the road, and passers-by often tripped over it.

“Not all at once, not all at once,” the stump creaked displeasedly. - I’ll accept as much as I can. I can't tear myself apart! Well, people, they can’t take a step without me!”

LAMA

In the camel family, only the llama does not have a hump. The camel family also has its fair share of freaks.

DISCUSSION

The ram expressed general bewilderment, the hare expressed general fear. Then the lion stood up and expressed his general opinion.

ORIGIN OF THE GIRAFFE

You have to bend your neck when you live in such an environment. And it’s good when you have something to bend.

FREELANCER

The electric iron asked to be unplugged because it was getting creative.

FLAP

“The man will probably freeze,” the whip was worried. - Arms, legs, shoulders are frostbitten. I’m calm about my lower back, I’m personally present here, but what about in other areas?”

ARMCHAIR

An important chair, a solid chair, it gives in warningly, shrinks when people sit on it, and when they stand up, it straightens up, looks around arrogantly, demonstrating its independent position.

INJUSTICE

“You work from morning to evening,” the healthy tooth lamented, “and no thanks to you!” And the damaged teeth are all in gold. For what, you ask? For what merit?

BLOT

Among the monotonous letters on a sheet of paper, one blot manages to retain its individuality. She doesn’t imitate anyone, she has her own face, and it’s not so easy to read her.

BEANBAG

“You need to be simpler, more intelligible,” the rattle instructs the violin. - For example, people always listen to me with pleasure. Even children understand!”

PROPER NUTRITION

It's better to undereat than to overeat. Therefore, the cat eats the mouse, and not vice versa.

HEALTHY OPTIMISM

The fly believes in the fly, the midge believes in the midge. And the mouse believes in the mouse and does not believe in the cat at all.

BIRDS

In every finch an eagle dies. From the consciousness that he is not an eagle, but a finch.

HIGH NERVOUS ACTIVITY

AND underwater snake You can get her to the point where she throws a deck at you.

TELL ME WHO IS YOUR FRIEND

A dog is a man's friend, but we also need to look at what kind of person he is.

BORN TO CREEP

You don't have to leave the ground to rise into the sky. Those born to crawl reach the top precisely thanks to the ability to stay on solid ground.

HEALTHY ENVY

And this thermos kept boiling water so that the glasses literally burst with envy.

SHUTTER

Every morning the shutter makes a broad gesture: our light, what is there to regret, there is enough for everyone!

And every evening the shutter closes the window more tightly: our light, no matter how others use it!

TRANSPARENCY

“We seem to be on the same path,” said the splinter, digging into his leg. “That’s good: after all, it’s more fun in company.”

Feeling the pain, the boy jumped on one leg, and the splinter remarked with satisfaction: “Well, I told you it’s more fun in company!”

ACNE

Sitting on the forehead of a short man, the pimple looked at their foreheads with envy tall people and thought: “I wish I was in such a position!”

PAINTING

The picture gives an assessment of living nature: “All this, of course, is nothing - both the background and the perspective... But you need to know some kind of framework!”

FLAP

“Paint me,” asks the rag. - I’ve already picked out a stick for the shaft. All that remains is to paint.”

“What color are you - green, black, orange?”

“I’m not good with colors,” the flap crumples. “I just wish I could become a banner.”

ENVIRONMENT

They say it all depends on the environment. Like, what kind of environment we have, that’s how we grow up. But it is not always the case.

A hole, for example, may have a gold or diamond surround, but it is still an empty space.

FROM THE LIFE OF TABLETS

“Wherever you poke, everyone tries to swallow you.” This does not happen in a healthy society.

FROM THE LIFE OF EGGS

They themselves are cold, where can they warm each other? Therefore, they always need either a hen or a frying pan.

PEDAGOGY

No egg likes to be over-hatched.

FROM THE LIFE OF INVENTORS

One very smart hare spent his life inventing a machine for processing hare meat into wolf meat. He didn't want to remain a hare. But such devices, it turns out, already existed, and the hare turned into wolf meat without the help of his ingenious invention.

FROM THE LIFE OF CENTIPODES

Where can you keep up with the times when you try to keep up with yourself!

CRUSTACEANS

So many legs, so many means of transportation - and all this in order to move backwards!

THE SECRET OF THE CUTE

In modern water conditions, a fish grabs a hook like a drowning man grabs a straw.

OUR VETERANS

Even back when there were no dinosaurs, ciliates were already ciliates. And now, when there are no dinosaurs a long time ago, ciliates are still ciliates.

HARD TIMES

And the fish has moments of melancholy when it is suddenly painfully drawn to land.

EXAMPLE OF THE SNAKE MUSSURANA

The Mussurana snake feeds exclusively on snakes and sees this as a kind of patriotism. But actually, why should we eat strangers? And why should strangers eat us? Don't we have anyone? Don't we have anyone to eat? The Mussurana snake answers these questions.

CROCODILES

It's not scary when you're young and green. It's when it's old and still green that it's truly scary.

YOUR OPINION

Finally, the sparrow got the opportunity to express his opinion.

“Chick-chirp,” said the sparrow. - Chick. Tweet. This one - chik, this one - chirp. Why bother with them?

LIFE EXPERIENCE

There comes a time in the life of every sandpiper when he no longer praises his swamp.

DIGNITY

The hummingbird is slightly larger than a bee, but it is still a bird!

“Our eagles are good guys,” says the hummingbird.

So, by the way, when it comes to words.

WATER AND ICE

Ice is lighter than water. The transformation of water into ice provides an instructive and sad example: how often an attempt to show firmness in order to give oneself weight ends in embarrassment and failure.

PEDESTALS AND MONUMENTS

Once upon a time there was a pedestal. He lived and was longer than the monument itself, because he never strived to reach the top.

AUTUMN

Feeling that its beauty was beginning to fade and wanting to somehow prolong its summer, the birch tree was painted in yellow- the most fashionable in autumn...

And then everyone saw that autumn had come.

SPACE AGE

Snowflake, slowly sinking to the ground, asks the oncoming bushes: “Is this Earth? Tell me, please, what planet is this?” “Yes, it seems this is Earth,” the bushes answer. But there is no confidence in their voice.

ANT

“Why don’t you wear glasses?” - they asked the ant.

“How can I tell you...” he answered. - I need to see the sun and the sky, and this road that leads to no one knows where. I need to see my friends smile. Little things don't interest me..."

Unstarted stories

APPRECIATION

... but seeing the tears in her eyes, the onion, out of excitement, forgot that it was being cut.

MATURITY

... and now, having entered the wide road, he no longer rushed into the cornerstones, but was content with the modest role of a stumbling block.

POSITIVE EXAMPLE

... for example, a spoon: she, too, is not always at ease, but this does not in the least prevent her from working with full dedication.

INDIVIDUALITY

... but - oh, how difficult it is to be a highlight! Especially in a box of raisins.

PLAYER

... and because he always lost in life, it was especially interesting to listen to him.

REFLEXES

... when there is a hunt for wolves, the hares are the first to scatter.

PROBLEMS

... it’s important here who goes, where they go, why they go!..

“And who he rides,” interjected the camel.

TO EACH HIS OWN

...what remains for the kangaroo? Walk around the world with a bag.

Pedigree tree of reptiles

... and so, crawling, the huge lizards gradually turned into small lizards.

SCHOOL OF LIFE

... but before the birds learned to fly, how much they had to grovel!

WOLVES AND SHEEP

... and when the wolves were fed and the sheep were safe, a problem arose: how to feed the sheep?

FREEDOM LEVEL

...probably still greatest freedom for birds it is freedom to sit in a cage when they want.

LEVEL OF CULTURE

... and a cow, accustomed to both straw and water, will never reach the point of drawing water through a straw.

LIVING CONDITIONS

... but for a butterfly that lives only one day, it is not at all indifferent to what the weather is like today.

FROM THE LIFE OF MICROBES

... and waking up a million years later, the microbe sees how much everything has changed around: many new microbes have appeared on earth.

FROM THE LIFE OF HERBS

... there would be someone to bow to, and there would be someone to bow to.

LOVE FOR YOUR NEIGHBOR

... and if the branches of one tree diverge at the top, then the branches of different trees reach towards each other.

CLIMATE

... some lack the southern warmth, while others lack the northern lights.

CATERING

...killed the worm. Hunger.

OPINION OF A FLYING FLY...

burn - burn!

BURDEN

... the heaviest stones are in the bosom.

OBITUARY

... it burned out like a candle in the era of continuous electrification.

DETECTIVE

... a thorough investigation showed that the crime was committed by a person who wished to remain anonymous.

PROGRESS

...thus, this small country that produced only buttons and toothpicks now produces everything from buttons to toothpicks.

RATES OF GROWTH

... from nobody to Robinson, from Robinson to Friday... Such is the increase in the population of uninhabited islands.

HEALTHY SLEEP

... and if a lion surrounded by giraffes sleeps up to twenty hours a day, then a giraffe surrounded by lions sleeps no more than twenty minutes. You can't sleep when you live in such an environment. Dozing is the privilege of the strong.

DEFENSE AND ATTACK

... when in the animal (and in the human) world a harmless person pretends to be a predator, this is a means of defense, and when a predator pretends to be harmless, it is a means of attack.

THE SMELL OF BLOOD

... minnows swim away from the smell of blood, sharks swim to the smell of blood, but most fish do not react to the smell of blood. Does it smell? Well, it smells. Is it leaking? Well, it flows. Everything flows in water, but nothing changes.

THE MOTHERLAND REMEMBERS, THE MOTHERLAND KNOWS

... and only after the Tasmanian wolf was completely destroyed in Tasmania, it was included in the coat of arms of this state.

HEREDITY

... well, let's say an elephant. Or a lion. But what does a pathetic, invisible microbe have? But he also finds something to pass on by inheritance.

THE POWER OF PROTEST

...and still tigers destroy zebras, and still zebras express their indignation. “Striped devils!” - the zebras are indignant at the tigers.

KNIGHTS OF THE ROUND TABLE

... in conclusion, lunch was served. The frog ate the fly, the frog already ate, the hedgehog ate the snake. The dinner passed in an atmosphere of mutual understanding.

FAIRY TALE

... and since the Golden Fish did not have enough of its seas, the last old trough was taken away from the old man.

FROM THE LIFE OF WORKERS

... work is not a wolf, it won’t go into the forest, don’t hope.

FROM THE LIFE OF JOURNALISTS

... none of our press can do without a press.

FROM THE LIFE OF VACATIONERS

... in our country, a person at work has the opportunity to rest, but they pay him as for rest, and not as for work.

FROM THE LIFE OF BUYERS

... in the capital there are temporary shortages of food, and in the provinces there are constant shortages.

FROM THE LIFE OF ANNIVERSARY

… half a century is still far from the ceiling. Floor and ceiling are fundamentally opposite things.

STATE STRUCTURE

... although without a king in his head, but with a parliament and a presidential council.

HOLIDAY ON SCAVEGOAT STREET

... finally the time for the scapegoat came: he was released to another garden, to historical homeland... That's when Sidorov's goat regretted not marrying him!

VIBRATIONAL MOTION

... but what should a pendulum do if it feels bad both here and there?

PUBLIC

... and everyone was disappointed that he couldn't perform his swan song as an encore.

POINT OF VIEW

... and as for the bald spot, the main thing for it is that it shines on top.

These stories are taken from Felix Krivin’s collection “Splashes of Reality,” published in Uzhgorod in 1996. Some of them are familiar to me from that very collection “Half-Tales”, some of them I read for the first time.

Well, did you like Felix Krivin? Have you read his works before? I would be grateful if you could suggest writers in the comments whose work is similar to Krivin’s. Thank you in advance. I love short thoughts like this notebooks Ilf, “Uncombed Thoughts” by Stanislaw Jerzy Lec...

P.S. Several miniatures by Felix Krivin performed by him close friend Lev Lutsker

Krivin Felix Davidovich

Tales with morals

Felix Krivin

Tales with morals

Hey, you're falling behind, you're falling behind! - Big Arrow urges Little Arrow. - I’ve already walked so far, and you’re still marking time! You serve our time poorly!

Little Arrow stomps around and doesn’t have time. How can she keep up with the Big Strelka!

But it shows hours, not minutes.

TWO STONES

Near the very shore lay two stones - two inseparable and old friends. All day long they basked in the rays of the southern sun and seemed happy that the sea was rustling to the side and did not disturb their calm and peaceful comfort.

But then one day, when a storm broke out at sea, the friendship of two friends ended: one of them was picked up by a wave running ashore and carried away with it far out to sea.

Another stone, clinging to a rotten snag, managed to stay on the shore and for a long time could not recover from fear. And when I calmed down a little, I found new friends. These were old, dried out and cracked lumps of clay. From morning to evening they listened to the Stone's stories about how he risked his life, how he was in danger during the storm. And by repeating this story to them every day, the Stone eventually felt like a hero.

Years passed... Under the rays of the hot sun, the Stone itself cracked and was almost no different from its friends - lumps of clay.

But then a rushing wave threw a shiny flint onto the shore, the likes of which had never been seen in these parts.

Hello, buddy! - he shouted to the Cracked Stone.

Old Stone was surprised.

Sorry, this is my first time seeing you.

Oh you! First time I see it! Have you forgotten how many years we spent together on this shore before I was carried out to sea?

And he told his old friend what he had to endure in the depths of the sea and how very interesting it was after all.

Come with me! - suggested Kremin. - You'll see real life, you will recognize real storms.

But his friend. The Cracked Stone looked at the lumps of clay, which at the word “storm” were ready to completely crumble out of fear, and said:

No, that's not for me. I’m perfectly settled here too.

Well, as you know! - Flint jumped onto the approaching wave and rushed off into the sea.

Everyone remaining on the shore was silent for a long time. Finally the Cracked Stone said:

He was lucky, so he became arrogant. Was it worth risking your life for him? Where is the truth? Where's the justice?

And the lumps of clay agreed with him that there is no justice in life.

NEEDLE IN DEBT

They don't give the Hedgehog any rest.

As soon as he curls up, settles down in his hole to sleep for a month or two, until the cold weather passes, and then there’s a knock.

May I come in?

The Hedgehog will look over the threshold, and there will be a furrier Hamster, a fur maker.

Sorry to bother you,” Khomyak apologizes. - Would you mind borrowing a needle?

What will you answer him? Hedgehog hesitates - it’s a pity to give, and he’s ashamed to refuse.

“I would be glad,” he says, “I would be glad.” Yes, I don’t have enough of them myself.

“Just for the evening,” asks Khomyak. - The customer needs to finish his fur coat, but the needle is broken.

With pain, the Hedgehog pulls out a needle for him:

I just ask you: finish your work and return it right away.

Of course, but of course! - Hamster assures and, taking a needle, hurries to finish the customer’s fur coat.

The hedgehog returns to the hole and lies down. But as soon as he begins to doze off, there is another knock.

Hello, are you still awake?

This time Liska the milliner appeared.

“Lend me a needle,” he asks. - Mine got lost somewhere. I searched and searched, but I can’t find it.

Hedgehog this way and that - nothing works. I have to lend a needle to Fox too.

After this, the Hedgehog finally manages to fall asleep. He lies there, watching his dreams, and at this time the Hamster has already finished his fur coat and hurries to the Hedgehog, bringing him a needle.

The Hamster approached the Hedgehog's hole, knocked once, twice, and then looked inside. He sees: The hedgehog is sleeping and snoring. “I won’t wake him up,” thinks Hamster. “I’ll stick a needle in his place so as not to bother him in vain, and I’ll thank him another time, if necessary.”

I found a free place on the hedgehog’s back and stuck the needle there. And how the hedgehog will jump! I didn’t understand it, of course, because I slept.

Save! - shouts. - Killed, stabbed!

“Don’t worry,” Hamster says politely. - I returned the needle to you. Thank you very much.

The Hedgehog tossed and turned for a long time and could not sleep from the pain. But he still fell asleep and, forgetting about the Hamster, went back to his dreams. Suddenly...

Ay! - yelled the Hedgehog. - Save, help!

He came to his senses a little, looked - Liska the milliner was standing next to him, smiling.

I think I scared you a little. I brought the needle. I was in such a hurry, in such a hurry, so that you wouldn’t worry.

The Hedgehog is curled up in a ball, quietly grumbling to himself. Why grumble? He gave with pain, and with pain he receives back.

"HISTORY OF A DROP",

I wrote and put a blot on the paper.

It's good that you decided to write about me! - said Blob. - I am so grateful to you!

“You’re wrong,” I replied. - I want to write about a drop.

But I’m also a drop! - insisted the Blob. - Only ink.

There are different types of ink drops, I said. - Some write letters, exercises in Russian and arithmetic, stories like this. And others, like you, only take up space on paper. Well, what can I write good about you?

The Blob is thinking.

At this time, a small Ray appears near her. The leaves of the trees outside the window are trying to keep him out of the room. They rustle after him:

Don't you dare hang out with this slut! You'll get dirty!

But Luchik is not afraid to get dirty. He really wants to help ink drop, which sat so poorly on paper.

I ask Klyaksa:

Do you really want me to write about you?

I really want to,” she admits.

Then you have to earn it. Trust Ray. He will take you, free you from the ink, and you will become a clean, transparent drop. There will be a job for you, just make sure you don’t refuse any work.

Okay,” agrees Drop. Now we can call it that.

I stand at the window and look at the clouds that float into the distance.

Somewhere there, among them, is my Drop. And I wave to her:

Goodbye, Drop! Bon Voyage!

And far, far away, in the sultry steppe, Kolos sways in the wind. He knows that he must grow big and that for this he needs moisture. He knows that without rain he will dry out in the sun and will not repay the people who look after him so carefully. There is only one thing Kolos does not know: our agreement with the Drop.

And the Drop flies to his aid, and hurries, and the wind pushes him:

Hurry up, hurry up, we may not make it in time!

What a joy it was when she finally arrived! The drop did not even think that it could break, falling from such a height. She immediately rushed down to her Kolos.

Well how are you? Are you still holding on? - she asks, landing.

And the courageous Kolos answers:

I'm holding on, as you can see. Everything is fine.

But Drop sees that not everything is in order. With great difficulty she gnaws through the stale soil and reaches the very root of the Spike. Then she starts feeding him.

The ear comes to life, straightens, and feels much more energetic.

Thank you, Drop,” he says. - You helped me a lot.

Nonsense! - answers Drop. - I'm glad I was useful to you. And now - goodbye. They are waiting for me in other places.

In what places they are waiting for her, the Drop does not say. Now try to find it, how many rivers, lakes, seas and oceans there are on earth, and you can imagine how many drops there are in them!

But I have to find my Drop! After all, I myself sent her on a long journey, and even promised to write about her.

The locomotive, breathing heavily, stops at the junction station. Here he needs to rest, stock up on water and fuel in order to move on with renewed vigor.

The water gurgles, filling its cauldrons. And look: something familiar appeared in the stream of water. Well, yes, of course, this is our Drop!

It's hard for a drop in a locomotive boiler! It's a hot job here! The drop not only evaporated, but completely turned into steam. And yet she does a good job at her job.

Other drops even begin to listen to her opinion on various issues, turn to her for advice, and she, having gathered her comrades around her, commands:

One, two - they took it! Come on, push it some more!

The drops press again, and the locomotive rushes, leaving behind one station after another.

And then Drop says goodbye to her comrades: her shift is over. The locomotive releases steam, and she leaves the boiler, and her comrades shout after her:

Don `t forget about Us. A drop! Maybe we'll meet again!

It's a harsh winter, the ground is frozen and can't get warm. And she can't be cold. She needs to retain her warmth in order to give it to trees, grasses, and flowers in the spring. Who will protect the earth, who will cover it and who will not be afraid of the cold?

Of course, Drop.

True, now it is difficult to recognize her: from the cold, the Drop turned into a Snowflake.

And so she slowly sinks to the ground, covering it with herself. Snowflake can cover a very small space, but she has many comrades, and together they manage to protect the earth from the cold.

Current page: 1 (book has 3 pages in total)

Felix Krivin

Yesterday's tales

Once upon a time there was an expression in use:

– Do you like yesterday’s borscht? In that case, come back tomorrow.

And now it’s tomorrow. And we came. But there was nothing left of the borscht, it was eaten yesterday... Only yesterday's tales remained...

Fairy tale

Once upon a time there lived a wizard. He could turn sand into sugar and plain water into milk, but he did not do this because he believed that miracles did not happen.

- Stop! - exclaimed the wizard. – You will leave us without stars!

“Sorry,” the rooster was embarrassed. – But at the same time, you must agree; There’s nothing more to peck here.

They started talking. It turns out that the rooster was not a rooster at all, he was a man, and he had a wife, a very beautiful woman. He loved her so much that his friends began to laugh at him. And one of them, a sorcerer by training, turned him into a rooster. And now he likes all the chickens, that's why he ran to the ends of the earth.

“If only someone would cast a spell on me,” sighed the rooster. - I could return to my wife and live like a human being again...

The wizard also sighed:

– Unfortunately, miracles do not happen.

They walked along the edge of the world, as if along the banks of a large river. That and the rooster was pushing the wizard in the side:

- Look how pretty the chicken is! - and then began to shame himself: - Oh, what I am after all... Unscrupulous, unlucky...

Late in the evening we came across a bear's den.

“Come in,” the bear invited. - Although there is nothing special to treat. At the end of the world with food - you know...

- How did you get to the end of the world?

- The fact is that I am not a bear, but a rooster. I sang and made pretty good money. It’s so wonderful to be a rooster,” the bear sighed and looked at the rooster, looking for sympathy. – If it weren’t for this honey... I can’t see it! I didn’t have enough grain, I wanted to try honey...

The bear fell silent. He was ashamed to tell what happened next. But once I started, I need to finish it.

– Carefully, so as not to wake the bees, I climbed into the hive for honey. And as soon as I began to try, I suddenly felt that something was happening to me.

The bear turned away and began blowing his nose into a rag.

“You can imagine,” he continued, “my feathers and wings disappeared somewhere, and instead of them, wool and these paws appeared.” And most importantly, I lost my voice. Listen here.

The bear roared so loudly that the earth shook.

The wizard shook his head:

– It’s unlikely that this will work. After all, miracles don't happen.

“Hello to honest company,” was heard from above, and a man looked into the den.

- Who are you? - The bear was scared. - Not a hunter for an hour?

- No, what kind of hunter am I? I'm not a person at all. Born a bear, grew old a bear. Well, in my old age I wanted to become a human being. I thought it was easier for a person, they give a pension to a person. I just see now - oh, it’s not an easy thing to be a human! So I’m walking around, looking for someone who can turn me into a bear.

The wizard spread his hands: “There are no miracles.” They are sitting in a bear’s den, and everyone is in such a mood...

- Oh, if only I could become a man! - the rooster laments.

- If only I could become a rooster! - the bear dreams.

- If only I could become a bear! - the man sighs.

The wizard got tired of this, and he waved his hand:

- Oh, yes, all of you, be whoever you want!

And then everyone became whoever they wanted. Because it was not just anyone who wished this, but a wizard. The rooster became a man. The bear is a rooster.

Man is a bear.

The wizard looked - a rooster, a bear and a man were sitting in a den - and sighed:

– I told you that miracles don’t happen!

If I were an ermine

If I were a wolf, I would take off the fur coat from every ermine, and from a marten, and even from a hare, although the hare’s fur coat is of very poor quality, it sheds all the time, and it is barely enough for one season. But I would still take off his fur coat, because I would be a wolf, and a wolf can afford it, a wolf can afford absolutely everything, except the pleasure of climbing a tree. Wolves don’t climb trees, although, of course, they would really like to, they wouldn’t refuse, but where can they go? Monkeys climb trees, and wolves run on the ground, and they will never climb a tree!

If I were a giraffe, I would not bow my head to anyone, I would look down on everyone, I would have such a long neck. And it wouldn’t cost me anything to look over the fence, and I would see what’s inside, and there must definitely be something inside, because fences exist for a reason - but, of course, not for those who have such a long neck. And no one could reach me, because to do this they would have to jump very high, and not everyone can do this.

If I were a mole, I would bury myself in the ground every day. I would be digging there, underground, and I would not be at all interested in what was happening here in this world. And who took someone's fur coat, and who bit off whose head, all this would be of no use to me, I would rummage in the ground, rummage and rummage - and only sometimes stick my head out to see how the grass grows there and how the sheep nibble on it . The sheep walk across the field and nibble the grass and warm their backs in the sun, and they may not think about anything, although, of course, they think, sometimes they think so!…

If I were a ram!... But I am a ram...

Happy regiment

Anyone who has ever had a conversation with the squirrel Veksha understands what it is. You can prepare for this all your life, and then remember it all your life, but for this you need to have two lives, and when you have one and still manage to talk with the squirrel Veksha, you can consider yourself lucky. Because the squirrel Veksha knows how to look at him in such a way that even the Brown bear loses the ability to joke and only says: “Damn me!” – and can’t add anything more.

Brown Bear is a big joker. Everyone remembers how he filled Baybak’s mink with a stone, and then sat on this stone and cried, and told everyone that he was buried here best friend Baybak, and everyone also cried that Baybak was already dead, but in fact he was not dead, but only covered with a stone. That's the joke Brown Bear made then.

And he calls Polchok nothing more than Polchok with a fist. Polchok would be offended by anyone else, but Brown has such a fist that it’s simply not worth being offended. And someone, not Polchka, should be offended now.

Here he is, little Polchok, a plump, round Polchok with a fist, sitting and talking to the squirrel Veksha. Brown would be confused, Brown would only open his mouth and bark: “Damn me!” - and Polchok is sitting there, talking.

– How are you doing with nuts? - asks Polchok.

“I’m fine,” the squirrel Veksha answers, and at the same time he turns his head in such a way that it takes a lot of effort for Polchka not to lose the thread of the conversation.

“It’s hard with nuts these days,” he continues to pull his thread. - They have a bad harvest, or what?

The Veksha squirrel has little understanding of crops. She recently climbed to the very top of the tree, and from there she had such a view! The forest is like a green carpet, and then the field is like a yellow carpet, and then the lake is like a blue carpet...

All this must be very beautiful, but Polchok is afraid of losing the thread of the conversation, so he says:

– I’ve had nuts since last year. Last year there was a harvest on them, but now there is no harvest on them.

They sit on a branch next to each other, and Polchk has to squint his eyes very hard to keep the squirrel Veksha in his field of vision. Because his neck does not turn, and this always happens after a harvest year.

“They get better from happiness, but this is already a misfortune,” says the mole Slepysh, and Polchok agrees with him.

– How do you store your nuts? - he asks the squirrel Vekshi.

She again remembers her peak, from which you can see all these carpets, and Polchok squints his eyes at her and thinks in advance what he will tell her in turn.

- Hey, Polchok with a fist! - Brown bear calls him from below and adds: - Damn me! “He was the one who noticed the squirrel Veksha.

Brown Bear is a big joker, and Polchok is used to not being angry with him. But now his jokes are completely useless. The shelf stretches out on a branch so as to resemble this unfortunate little fist as little as possible, and says to the squirrel Växha, ignoring the insulting words:

- They walk here... They just trample nuts in vain...

- Oh, you, Polchok with a fist! – the bear jokes, looking away from the white of his eyes to maintain his sense of humor. - Why are you stretched out like you swallowed a twig? A shelf as big as a fist swallowed a twig! - the bear shouts and laughs, rejoicing at the joke.

The little regiment begins to lose his temper little by little: first he begins to sniffle, then mutter, and finally, quite articulate words:

- I'll hit you on the head with a nut! Will know…

- Nut? - the bear laughs. - Oh you... damn me! - He couldn’t resist and looked at the squirrel Veksha again.

And then the squirrel Veksha, who was talking so pleasantly with Polchok, realized that of the two of them, only she could impress the bear. And she turned her head, as she knew how, and looked, as only she could.

The impression was that the bear staggered and could hardly stand on its feet.

- Are you scared? – Polchok was happy. - Now I’ll get the nut! - And he went somewhere to get a nut.

Brown Bear wanted to say something else, but then the squirrel looked at him again. And he closed his eyes and wandered away, muttering to himself: “Damn me!...” - this is the impression the squirrel made on him.

“If he hadn’t left, I would honestly have thrown a nut at him,” said Polchok when the Brown bear disappeared from sight.

And again they sat and talked, and everything was so good...

But remember what the mole Slepysh said...

Squirrel Veksha looked at the happy Polchok, but for some reason she saw the Brown bear. He stood in her eyes and staggered, and squinted, and she felt sorry for him, so big, and it was pleasant to impress him...

“He won’t bother us again,” Polchok reassured her.

Ichneumon and Civet

“Happy love,” said the butterfly Vanessa, “still happens in the world.” happy love!

The tree frog stretched out its short neck and glanced with envy at the Anaconda snake, which consisted entirely of one neck and therefore could listen to its pleasure.

– This was back in the days when the daredevil Ichneumon hunted crocodiles. The crocodiles were huge, but Ichneumon killed them because he was brave and loved the beautiful Civet. And in honor of Civet, he killed crocodiles, this showed his love.

Vanessa the butterfly sighed softly, and the tree frog sighed softly, and the Anaconda snake sighed softly. And Vanessa continued her story

“One day, when Ichneumon killed some kind of crocodile and was already turning to move on, he suddenly heard crying under his feet. Ichneumon bent down and saw the lizard Scapteira crying in the grass.

- Poor lizard! - said the frog Frog and again glanced sideways at the Anaconda snake.

Ichneumon leaned over to her and began to ask if she had lost anything, because it is easy for grass to lose something. “I lost it,” the lizard Scapteira answered through tears. “I lost my crocodile... You killed it yourself, and you still ask...” “Was it your crocodile? – Ichneumon was surprised. “Are there really anyone’s crocodiles?” “It was my crocodile,” said the lizard Scapteira. “You see, he and I are similar, only I’m small and on land, and he’s big and in the water.” - “Why don’t you find someone small on land?” “I don’t want a small one on land, my crocodile was big and he was not afraid of water,” said the lizard. “Perhaps that’s why I fell in love with him.”

“How true this is,” said the Anaconda snake. She, the big one, fell in love with the Chaffinch - because he was small and flew.

“The daredevil Ichneumon stood over the lizard Scapteira, and he wanted to somehow make amends for his guilt. And he said that if a lizard absolutely needs to love a crocodile, then he will show her a place where crocodiles are a dime a dozen. But the lizard replied that she did not need another crocodile, that she loved this one. And then Ichneumon could not understand anything, because this crocodile was no different from others, but He, Ichneumon, has seen crocodiles in his lifetime!

“Listen, lizard,” said Ichneumon, “I’m very sorry that this happened. I myself would replace the crocodile for you, but you see, I’m not big at all and I don’t live in the water, but on land. And besides, I love Civet. Don’t be angry with me, lizard, but I really love Civet very much and I can’t help it, forgive me.”

And this is where the fun begins. It turned out that the daredevil Ichneumon, for whom the beautiful Civet yearns, is of no use to the lizard Scapteira, and even if he wanted to replace the crocodile for her, she, the lizard, would not want it. It turned out that the daredevil Ichneumon can kill a crocodile, but he is not able to replace the crocodile.

Well, here, perhaps, he should have left, he said everything, the rest did not depend on him, but he felt sorry for this lizard, and, in order to console it, he was ready to replace it with a crocodile... He remembered about the Civet, he knew , that Civet was waiting for him, but he could not move, because this ugly, crying, lizard Scapteira was sitting in front of him, and he wanted to replace the crocodile with her. Oh, how he wanted to replace the crocodile for her!

“You never know what anyone wants,” said the snake Anaconda, for whom no one could replace her Finch.

- Poor Civet! - said the frog Frog.

“That’s the point, she’s not poor,” said the butterfly Vanessa. “The fact of the matter is that Ichneumon returned to the beautiful Civet, and since then they have been in happy love.” Ichneumon does not hunt crocodiles; he lives with his Civet and never leaves her side. Because he knows: as soon as he leaves, he will again want to replace the crocodile with some lizard. After all, there are so many lizards in the world and so few crocodiles...

“Unfortunately, this is so,” said the Anaconda snake.

And the frog Frog said:

- Poor Ichneumon!

Cat in the zoo

The cat lived in the zoo, but not in a cage, but between the cages. It was a shame because they feed in the cage, but not between the cages. Whatever you grab yourself, you are full. But you live in freedom.

This is the law of life: either well-fed or free life. Nobody likes this law, because in any case something is missing.

The cat didn’t like that she was free, and the food was separated from her by cages. And she ran between the cages and shouted: “Down with the cages!” – filling the atmosphere with freedom-loving motives. And when freedom-loving motives reached the administration, the cages were removed and the zoo was converted into a nature reserve, where everything is natural, everything is free...

And immediately everyone screamed: “Let’s eat!”

The cat screamed the loudest. Previously, food could be stolen from the cage, although this was associated with certain difficulties. Now what happened? No cages, no food?

What about crime? When did we have such crime? Look who was released from the cages! These are criminals! They eat each other alive!

The cat hid at the very top of the tree and watched in horror as free citizens ate each other. Freedom-loving motives said nothing about this.

And the cat screamed from above: “Freedom for the cages!” But she didn’t dare come down from the tree for fear of growing crime.

So it remained on the tree. I learned to gnaw nuts. The squirrels took her for their own and shouted with her:

“Freedom for the cells!”

Let's stick our heads out!

We all remember those times when our ancestors came out of the sea onto land. We went out and, out of habit, began to breathe with gills, but it didn’t work out well with gills on land.

The grandparents gathered for a grandparent meeting. We, they say, okay, we’ve caught our breath, but what about our children, who still have time to breathe?

The whale faction (which, of course, got it for factionalism) developed original method breathing with the lungs. But the method was considered flawed, since our great predecessors, who showed us the way from sea to land, breathed through gills. Gills are our great heritage, we cannot give up gills. And isn't it possible to extract oxygen from air in the same way as it was extracted from water? At first, you can put a glass of water on the speaker so that the gills do not dry out (this habit has survived to this day).

But the factionalists insisted: the gills are a passed stage. The great predecessors breathed in water, so they relied on gills.

For such words about the great predecessors, the whales were simply kicked out of the land. Back to sea. Let them breathe whatever they want. And the ancestors began to extract oxygen from the air in the traditional way, placing a glass of water for the speaker so that the gills did not dry out.

But the gills still dried out. Until they are completely dry. And then the ancestors got their second wind.

Wonderful breath. And immediately they felt as easy as it does when you breathe with your lungs.

Here, of course, they remembered the whales, who breathed with their lungs even when it was impossible to breathe on land at all. When they grabbed everyone who tried to breathe with their lungs by the gills.

The ancestral assembly sent an invitation to the whales to return to their native land, where today everyone breathes with their lungs. But the whales did not return; they had already become accustomed to their native water.

True, they did not learn how to extract oxygen from water with their lungs; they had to lean out of the water to breathe.

This breathing method did not find support in the water. The whales were warned: keep your head down! But they are no longer could not stick out. They stuck out in the water exactly the same way they stuck out on land.

On land I liked the way they stuck out of the water. Because this is how the great predecessors stuck out, showing the way from water to land. And also because if you strive for a new life, you need to at least lean into this new life.

On the way to the ocean

The little fish Anabas lives far from the seas; it lives - it’s even embarrassing to say - in a swamp. Of course, it’s not very pleasant, and the Anabas fish keeps dreaming of moving to some other places. IN Pacific Ocean. Or at least to the Atlantic. Wow, Anabas the fish knows where it is best for her to move. She knows by heart all the oceans that exist on earth. And she firmly decided: if only the time comes, she will definitely move to the ocean.

And the time comes, its swamp begins to dry up, and now it’s not just about going to the ocean, but you can’t swim anywhere at all - it’s getting so dry in this swamp.

You have to crawl: straight on land, but that’s okay, it’s not scary if you crawl into the ocean! The Anabas fish steps over its fins like the most seasoned pedestrian, and can freely do without water, like a camel in the desert. She goes without water for a whole week... And there she will come across some swamp in which she can make a halt...

What a wonderful thing - a halt in a swamp! And cool, and not too deep. Refresh yourself, gain strength and energy. And then the swamp will dry up and you can continue crawling into the ocean. After all, you can probably crawl into the ocean if you crawl like this - from swamp to swamp?