Notes of a little schoolgirl my mom is an expressive reading. Lydia Charskaya notes of a little schoolgirl

Notes of a little schoolgirl Lydia Charskaya

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Title: Notes of a little schoolgirl

About the book "Notes of a little schoolgirl" Lydia Charskaya

Lydia Voronova became a writer by chance. Once a wealthy noblewoman, Lydia Alekseevna found herself in very cramped circumstances. She worked at the Imperial Theater, where she played episodic roles. The actress was paid very little, the money was sorely lacking for basic needs and the maintenance of her son Yuri, whom the woman raised alone. This state of affairs prompted her to write.

In 1901, under the pseudonym "Charskaya", Lydia Alekseevna wrote the story "Notes of a Little Schoolgirl". The plot of the story was based on the writer's own school diaries. The work was published in a children's magazine and brought Charskaya unexpected fame.

Writing has become not just a means of earning money for Lydia Charskaya. She enthusiastically gave herself to a new hobby, but at the same time continued to work in the theater. For two decades, the writer gave readers about 80 works. But one of her most memorable creations was the work “Notes of a Little Schoolgirl”.

This is a touching story about a young provincial girl - Lena Ikonina, who came to noisy St. Petersburg to study at the gymnasium. It is very difficult for the heroine to adapt to a new environment, but thanks to her kindness and humanity, Elena manages to cope with difficulties, make friends with aggressive classmates and melt the callousness of relatives with whom the heroine is forced to live.

Lydia Charskaya was well versed in child psychology. She easily caught burning topics for young people, schoolgirls read her works with rapture. The fame of the writer went far beyond Russia, her stories and novels were translated into English, French, German and Czech.

Despite the caustic criticism of some writers, the popularity of the writer was unconditional. Lydia Charskaya received huge fees, and fans were looking forward to new publications.

But the resounding success ended in the same sharp fall: with the advent of Soviet power in 1917, they stopped printing Charskaya, because they did not forgive her noble origin. Finally, the writer was knocked down by the news of the death of her son. The writer lived out her days abandoned by everyone, in poverty and loneliness.
The work of Lydia Charskaya was remembered already in the 90s of the last century. Then some publishing houses republished her works.

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Quotes from the book "Notes of a little schoolgirl" Lydia Charskaya

I was infinitely sorry for the poor Japanese woman. I was ready to cry with her.
With quiet, cautious steps I went up to her and, lightly touching her hand with mine, whispered:
“If you knew how sorry I am, mademoiselle, that… that… I am so sorry…”
I wanted to finish the sentence and say how sorry I am that I didn’t run after Julie and stop her, but I didn’t have time to utter this, because at that very moment the Japanese woman, like a wounded animal, jumped up from the floor and, grabbing me by the shoulders began shaking with all her might.
- Yeah, you're sorry! Now repent, aha! And what did she do! O wicked, wretched girl! Ruthless, heartless, cruel creature! Burn my book! My innocent book, the only memory of my dear Sophie!
And she shook me harder and harder, while her cheeks turned red and her eyes became round and became exactly the same as those of the deceased Filka. She probably would have hit me if at that moment the girls had not run into the classroom and surrounded us from all sides, asking what was the matter.
The Japanese woman roughly grabbed my arm, dragged me into the middle of the class, and, shaking her finger menacingly over my head, shouted at the top of her voice.

"NOTES OF A LITTLE GIRL STUDENT - 01"

To a strange city, to strangers

Knock Knock! Knock Knock! Knock Knock! - wheels knock, and the train quickly rushes forward and forward.

I hear in this monotonous noise the same words repeated dozens, hundreds, thousands of times. I listen sensitively, and it seems to me that the wheels are tapping the same thing, without counting, without end: like this, like that! like this, like this! like this, like this!

The wheels rattle, and the train rushes and rushes without looking back, like a whirlwind, like an arrow...

In the window, bushes, trees, station houses and telegraph poles, set along the slope of the canvas, are running towards us. railway...

Or is it our train running, and they are quietly standing in one place? I don't know, I don't understand.

However, I do not understand much that has happened to me in these last days.

Lord, how strange everything is in the world! Could I have thought a few weeks ago that I would have to leave our small, cozy house on the banks of the Volga and travel alone for thousands of miles to some distant, completely unknown relatives? .. Yes, it still seems to me that this is only a dream, but - alas! - it's not a dream!..

This conductor's name was Nikifor Matveyevich. He took care of me all the way, gave me tea, made a bed for me on a bench, and whenever he had time he entertained me in every possible way. It turns out that he had a daughter of my age, whose name was Nyura, and who lived with her mother and brother Seryozha in St. Petersburg. He even put his address in my pocket - "just in case" if I wanted to visit him and get to know Nyurochka.

I am very sorry for you, young lady, Nikifor Matveyevich told me more than once during my short journey, because you are an orphan, and God commands you to love orphans. And again, you are alone, as there is one in the world; You don't know your St. Petersburg uncle, nor his family... It's not easy, after all... But only, if it becomes very unbearable, you come to us. You will rarely find me at home, because I am more and more on the road, and my wife and Nyurka will be glad to see you. They are good for me...

I thanked the gentle conductor and promised him to visit him...

Indeed, a terrible turmoil arose in the carriage. Passengers and passengers fussed and jostled, packing and tying things. Some old woman, who was driving opposite me all the way, lost her purse with money and screamed that she had been robbed. Someone's baby was crying in the corner. An organ-grinder stood by the door, playing a dreary song on his broken instrument.

I looked out the window. God! How many pipes have I seen! Pipes, pipes and pipes! A whole forest of pipes! Gray smoke curled from each and, rising up, blurred in the sky. A fine autumn rain was drizzling, and all nature seemed to frown, cry and complain about something.

The train went slower. The wheels no longer shouted their restless "so-so!". They thumped much more slowly now, and it was as if they were also complaining that the machine was forcibly delaying their brisk, cheerful progress.

And then the train stopped.

Please, come, - said Nikifor Matveyevich.

And, taking my warm handkerchief, pillow and suitcase in one hand, and firmly squeezing my hand with the other, he led me out of the car, squeezing his way through the crowd with difficulty.

My mommy

I had a mother, affectionate, kind, sweet. We lived with my mother in a small house on the banks of the Volga. The house was so clean and bright, and from the windows of our apartment one could see the wide, beautiful Volga, and huge two-story steamships, and barges, and a pier on the shore, and crowds of strollers who went out at certain hours to this pier to meet the incoming steamers ... And my mother and I went there, only rarely, very rarely: mother gave lessons in our city, and she was not allowed to walk with me as often as I would like. Mommy said:

Wait, Lenusha, I'll save up some money and take you up the Volga from our Rybinsk all the way to Astrakhan! That's when we'll have fun.

I rejoiced and waited for spring.

By the spring, mommy saved up a little money, and we decided to fulfill our idea with the very first warm days.

As soon as the Volga is cleared of ice, we will ride with you! Mom said, gently stroking my head.

But when the ice broke, she caught a cold and began to cough. The ice passed, the Volga cleared up, and Mom kept coughing and coughing endlessly. She suddenly became thin and transparent, like wax, and kept sitting by the window, looking at the Volga and repeating:

Here the cough will pass, I will recover a little, and we will ride with you to Astrakhan, Lenusha!

But the cough and cold did not go away; the summer was damp and cold this year, and every day mommy became thinner, paler and more transparent.

Autumn has come. September has arrived. Long lines of cranes stretched over the Volga, flying into warm countries. Mommy no longer sat at the window in the living room, but lay on the bed and shivered all the time from the cold, while she herself was hot as fire.

Once she called me to her and said:

Listen, Lenusha. Your mother will soon leave you forever... But don't worry, dear. I will always look at you from the sky and rejoice in the good deeds of my girl, but ...

I did not let her finish and wept bitterly. And Mommy also cried, and her eyes became sad, sad, exactly the same as those of the angel whom I saw on the big image in our church.

After calming down a little, Mom spoke again:

I feel that the Lord will soon take me to Himself, and may His holy will be done! Be smart without a mother, pray to God and remember me... You will go to live with your uncle, my brother, who lives in St. Petersburg ... I wrote to him about you and asked him to shelter an orphan ...

Something painfully painful at the word "orphan" squeezed my throat ...

I sobbed and wept and huddled around my mother's bed. Maryushka (a cook who had lived with us for nine whole years, from the very year of my birth, and who loved mother and me without memory) came and took me to her, saying that "mother needs rest."

I fell asleep all in tears that night on Maryushka's bed, and in the morning ... Oh, what a morning! ..

I woke up very early, it seems at six o'clock, and I wanted to run straight to my mother.

At that moment Maryushka came in and said:

Pray to God, Lenochka: God took your mother to him. Your mom has died.

Mommy died! I repeated like an echo.

And suddenly I felt so cold, cold! Then there was a noise in my head, and the whole room, and Maryushka, and the ceiling, and the table, and chairs - everything turned upside down and swirled in my eyes, and I no longer remember what happened to me after that. I think I fell to the floor unconscious...

I woke up when my mother was already lying in a large white box, in a white dress, with a white wreath on her head. An old gray-haired priest recited prayers, the choristers sang, and Maryushka prayed at the threshold of the bedroom. Some old women came and also prayed, then looked at me with pity, shook their heads and mumbled something with their toothless mouths...

Orphan! Round orphan! said Maryushka, also shaking her head and looking at me pitifully, and weeping. Old women were crying...

On the third day, Maryushka took me to the white box in which Mama was lying and told me to kiss Mama's hand. Then the priest blessed mother, the singers sang something very sad; some men came up, closed the white box and carried it out of our house...

I cried out loud. But then the old women I already knew arrived in time, saying that they were carrying my mother to be buried and that there was no need to cry, but to pray.

The white box was brought to the church, we defended the mass, and then some people came up again, picked up the box and carried it to the cemetery. A deep black hole had already been dug there, where Mom's coffin was lowered. Then they covered the hole with earth, put a white cross over it, and Maryushka took me home.

On the way, she told me that in the evening she would take me to the station, put me on a train and send me to Petersburg to my uncle.

I don’t want to go to my uncle,” I said gloomily, “I don’t know any uncle and I’m afraid to go to him!

But Maryushka said that she was ashamed to speak like that to the big girl, that her mother heard it and that she was hurt by my words.

Then I quieted down and began to remember my uncle's face.

I never saw my St. Petersburg uncle, but there was his portrait in my mother's album. He was depicted on it in a golden embroidered uniform, with many orders and with a star on his chest. He had a very important look, and I was involuntarily afraid of him.

After dinner, which I barely touched, Maryushka packed all my dresses and linen into an old suitcase, gave me tea to drink, and took me to the station.

checkered lady

When the train arrived, Maryushka found a conductor she knew and asked him to take me to Petersburg and watch me along the way. Then she gave me a piece of paper on which it was written where my uncle lives in St. Petersburg, crossed me and, saying: "Well, be smart!" - said goodbye to me ...

I spent the whole trip as if in a dream. In vain did those who sat in the car try to entertain me, in vain did the kind Nikifor Matveyevich draw my attention to the various villages, buildings, herds that came across to us along the way ... I saw nothing, did not notice anything ...

So I got to St. Petersburg ...

Coming out with my companion from the car, I was immediately deafened by the noise, screams and hustle that reigned at the station. People ran somewhere, collided with each other and ran again with a preoccupied look, with their hands busy with knots, bundles and packages.

I even got dizzy from all this noise, roar, scream. I'm not used to it. In our Volga city it was not so noisy.

And who will meet you, young lady? - the voice of my companion brought me out of my thoughts.

I was involuntarily confused by his question.

Who will meet me? Don't know!

Seeing me off, Maryushka managed to tell me that she had sent a telegram to St. Petersburg to my uncle informing him of the day and hour of my arrival, but whether he would go out to meet me or not, I positively did not know.

And besides, if my uncle is even at the station, how will I recognize him? After all, I only saw him in the portrait in my mother's album!

Reflecting in this way, I, accompanied by my patron Nikifor Matveyevich, ran around the station, peering attentively into the faces of those gentlemen who bore even the remotest resemblance to my uncle's portrait. But positively no one like it turned out at the station.

I was already quite tired, but still did not lose hope of seeing my uncle.

Firmly clutching our hands, Nikifor Matveyevich and I rushed about the platform, constantly bumping into the oncoming audience, pushing the crowd aside and stopping in front of every gentleman of the slightest degree of importance.

Here, here is another one that looks like an uncle! I cried with new hope, dragging my companion after a tall, gray-haired gentleman in a black hat and wide fashionable coat.

We quickened our pace and now almost ran after the tall gentleman.

But at the moment when we almost overtook him, the tall gentleman turned to the doors of the first-class hall and disappeared from sight. I rushed after him, Nikifor Matveyevich after me...

But then something unexpected happened: I accidentally stumbled on the foot of a lady passing by in a checkered dress, in a checkered cape and with a checkered bow on her hat. The lady squealed in a voice that was not her own, and dropping a huge checkered umbrella from her hands, she stretched herself out to her full length on the plank floor of the platform.

I rushed to her apologetically, as befits a well-bred girl, but she didn't even spare me a single glance.

Ignorant! Boobies! Ignorant! the checkered lady shouted to the whole station. - They rush like mad and knock down a decent audience! Ignorant, ignorant! Here I will complain about you to the head of the station! Road director! Mayor! Help me get up, you bastard!

And she floundered, making an effort to get up, but she could not do it.

Nikifor Matveyevich and I finally picked up the checkered lady, handed her a huge umbrella thrown away during her fall, and began to ask if she had hurt herself.

I got hurt, obviously! the lady shouted in the same angry voice. - Obviously, I got hurt. What's question! Here you can kill to death, you can not only hurt. And all you! All you! She suddenly turned on me. - Ride like a wild horse, nasty girl! Just wait at my place, I'll tell the policeman, I'll send it to the police! - And she angrily banged her umbrella on the boards of the platform. - Police officer! Where is the cop? Call me him! she yelled again.

I was dumbfounded. Fear gripped me. I don’t know what would have become of me if Nikifor Matveyevich hadn’t intervened in this matter and stood up for me.

Come on, ma'am, don't frighten the child! You see, the girl herself is not herself from fear, - my defender said in his kind voice, - and that’s to say - it’s not her fault. She herself is upset. I jumped up by accident, dropped you, because I was in a hurry to get my uncle. It seemed to her that her uncle was coming. She is an orphan. Yesterday in Rybinsk she was handed over to me from hand to hand to be delivered to my uncle in St. Petersburg. General she has an uncle ... General Ikonin ... Have you heard of this surname?

Barely mine new friend and the defender managed to say last words how something extraordinary happened to the checkered lady. Her head with a checkered bow, her torso in a checkered cloak, a long hooked nose, reddish curls at the temples and a large mouth with thin bluish lips - all this jumped, rushed about and danced some strange dance, and hoarse lips began to escape from behind her thin lips, hissing and hissing sounds. The checkered lady laughed, laughed desperately at the top of her voice, dropping her huge umbrella and clutching her sides, as if she had colic.

Ha ha ha! she shouted. - That's what they came up with! Uncle himself! You see, General Ikonin himself, His Excellency, must come to the station to meet this princess! What a noble young lady, pray tell! Ha ha ha! Nothing to say, razdolzhila! Well, do not be angry, mother, this time uncle did not go to meet you, but sent me. He didn't think what kind of bird you were... Ha-ha-ha!!!

I don't know how long the checkered lady would have laughed if, having come to my aid again, Nikifor Matveyevich had not stopped her.

It’s enough, madam, to make fun of an unreasonable child, ”he said sternly. - Sin! An orphan young lady ... a complete orphan. And orphans God...

None of your business. Be silent! the checkered lady suddenly cried out, interrupting him, and her laughter was cut off at once. "Bring the young lady's things after me," she added somewhat softer, and, turning to me, threw in casually: "Let's go." I don't have time to mess around with you. Well, turn around! Alive! March!

And, roughly grabbing my hand, she dragged me to the exit.

I could barely keep up with her.

At the porch of the station stood a pretty dandy carriage drawn by a beautiful black horse. A gray-haired, important-looking coachman sat on a box.

The coachman pulled the reins, and a smart cab drove up right up to the very steps of the station entrance.

Nikifor Matveyevich put my suitcase on the bottom of it, then helped a checkered lady climb into the carriage, who took up the entire seat, leaving for me exactly as much space as would be required to place a doll on it, and not a living nine-year-old girl.

Well, goodbye, dear young lady, - Nikifor Matveyevich whispered affectionately to me, - God grant you a happy place with your uncle. And if anything - you are welcome to us. You have an address. We live on the outskirts, on the highway near the Mitrofanevsky cemetery, behind the outpost ... Remember? And Nyurka will be happy! She loves orphans. She is good to me.

My friend would have talked to me for a long time if the voice of the checkered lady had not sounded from the height of the seat:

Well, how long will you keep yourself waiting, insufferable girl! What are you talking about with a man! Right now, you hear!

I shuddered, as if under a blow from a whip, from this voice that was barely familiar to me, but had already become unpleasant, and hurried to take my place, hastily shaking hands and thanking my recent patron.

The coachman jerked the reins, the horse took off, and, gently bouncing and splashing passers-by with lumps of mud and spray from puddles, the cab quickly rushed through the noisy city streets.

Holding tightly to the edge of the carriage so as not to fly out onto the pavement, I looked with surprise at the large five-story buildings, at the smart shops, at the horse cars and omnibuses rolling along the street with a deafening ring, and involuntarily my heart sank with fear at the thought that waiting for me in this big city, strange to me, in a strange family, with strangers, about whom I heard and knew so little.

Iconin family. - First hardships

Matilda Frantsevna brought a girl!

Your cousin, not just a girl...

And yours too!

You're lying! I don't want no cousin! She is a beggar.

And I do not want to!

They're calling! Are you deaf, Fedor?

Brought! Brought! Hooray!

I heard all this as I stood in front of the door upholstered in dark green oilcloth. On a copper plate nailed to the door, large beautiful letters: REAL STATE

ADVISER

MIKHAIL VASILIEVICH IKONIN

Hurried footsteps were heard outside the door, and a footman in a black tailcoat and white tie, such as I saw only in pictures, opened the door wide.

As soon as I stepped over its threshold, someone quickly grabbed my hand, someone touched my shoulders, someone covered my eyes with his hand, while my ears were filled with noise, ringing and laughter, from which I immediately head is spinning.

When I woke up a little and my eyes could look again, I saw that I was standing in the middle of a luxuriously decorated living room with fluffy carpets on the floor, with elegant gilded furniture, with huge mirrors from ceiling to floor. I have never seen such luxury, and therefore it is not surprising if all this seemed to me a dream.

Three children crowded around me: one girl and two boys. The girl was my age. Blonde, delicate, with long curly locks tied with pink bows at the temples, with a capricious upturned upper lip She looked like a pretty porcelain doll. She was wearing a very elegant white dress with a lace frill and a pink sash. One of the boys, the one who was much older, dressed in a uniform gymnasium uniform, looked very much like his sister; the other, small, curly, seemed no older than six. His thin, lively, but pale face seemed sickly in appearance, but a pair of brown and quick eyes glared at me with the liveliest curiosity.

These were my uncle's children - Zhorzhik, Nina and Tolya - about whom the late mother told me more than once.

The children looked at me silently. I am for children.

There was silence for five minutes.

And suddenly the younger boy, who must have been tired of standing like that, unexpectedly raised his hand and, pointing his index finger at me, said:

That's the figure!

Figure! Figure! - the blond girl echoed him. - And the truth: fi-gu-ra! Just rightly said!

And she jumped in one place, clapping her hands.

Very witty, - the schoolboy said through his nose, - there is something to laugh at. She's just kind of a jerk!

How is the wood lice? Why woodlice? - so the younger children were stirred up.

Come on, don't you see how she wet the floor. In galoshes, she stumbled into the living room. Witty! Nothing to say! Vaughn inherited how! Puddle. Mokritsa is.

And what is this - wood lice? Tolya inquired, looking at his older brother with obvious respect.

M-m... m-m... m-m... - the schoolboy got confused, - m-m... this is such a flower: when you touch it with your finger, it will close right away... Here...

No, you are mistaken, - I escaped against my will. (My late mother read to me about plants and animals, and I knew a lot for my age). - A flower that closes its petals when touched is a mimosa, and a woodlouse is an aquatic animal like a snail.

Mmmm ... - the schoolboy mumbled, - does it matter if it is a flower or an animal. We haven't done this in class yet. What are you doing with your nose when you are not asked? Look what a clever girl turned up! .. - he suddenly attacked me.

Terrible outburst! - the girl echoed him and screwed up her blue eyes. “You’d better take care of yourself than correct Georges,” she drawled capriciously, “Georges is smarter than you, but you climbed into the living room in galoshes. Very beautiful!

Witty! - the high school student gritted again.

And you're still a bitch! his brother squeaked and giggled. - Mokritsa and the beggar!

I flared up. Nobody has ever called me that. The nickname of the beggar offended me more than anything else. I saw beggars at the porch of churches and more than once gave them money on the orders of my mother. They asked "for the sake of Christ" and stretched out their hand for alms. I did not stretch out my hands for alms and did not ask anyone for anything. So he doesn't dare to call me that. Anger, bitterness, anger - all this boiled up in me at once, and, not remembering myself, I grabbed my offender by the shoulders and began to shake him with all my might, choking with excitement and anger.

Don't you dare say that. I am not a beggar! Don't you dare call me a beggar! Do not dare! Do not dare!

No, beggar! No, beggar! You will live with us out of mercy. Your mother died and left you no money. And both of you are beggars, yes! - the boy repeated like a learned lesson. And, not knowing how else to annoy me, he stuck out his tongue and began to make the most impossible grimaces in front of my face. His brother and sister laughed heartily at the scene.

I have never been a snarky one, but when Tolya offended my mother, I could not bear it. A terrible impulse of anger seized me, and with a loud cry, without thinking and not remembering what I was doing, I pushed my cousin with all my might.

He staggered violently, first to one side, then to the other, and in order to keep his balance, he grabbed the table on which the vase stood. She was very beautiful, all painted with flowers, storks and some funny black-haired girls in colored long robes, in high hairstyles and with open fans at her chest.

The table swayed no less than Tolya. A vase of flowers and little black girls also swayed with him. Then the vase slid to the floor... There was a deafening crack.

And little black girls, and flowers, and storks - everything mixed up and disappeared in one common pile of shards and fragments.

Broken vase. - Aunt Nelly and Uncle Michel

There was a deathly silence for a minute. Horror was written on the children's faces. Even Tolya calmed down and turned his frightened eyes in all directions.

Georges was the first to break the silence.

Witty! - he held out in his nose.

Ninochka shook her beautiful head, looking at the pile of potsherds, and said significantly:

Mother's favorite Japanese vase.

Well, so what! yelled at her older brother. - And who is to blame?

Not just me! Tolya blurted out.

And not me! Ninochka hurried to keep up with him.

So what do you think I am? Witty! - the high school student was offended.

Not you, but Mokritsa! Ninochka screamed.

Of course, Mokritsa! Tolya confirmed.

Mokritsa is. We must complain to the mother. Call your Bavaria Ivanovna here - that is, Matilda Frantsevna. Well, what mouths gaped! Georges commanded the younger children. "I just don't understand why she's watching you!"

And, shrugging his shoulders, he walked through the hall with the air of an adult.

Ninochka and Tolya disappeared in a minute and immediately reappeared in the drawing room, dragging Matilda Frantsevna, the same plaid lady who had met me at the station, behind them.

What's that noise? What's the scandal? she asked, looking at us all with stern, questioning eyes.

Then the children, surrounding her, began to tell in chorus how it all happened. If I had not been so heartbroken at that moment, I would have been involuntarily surprised at the excess of lies that came through in every phrase of the little Ikonins.

But I didn't hear anything and didn't want to hear it. I stood at the window, looked at the sky, at the gray St. Petersburg sky, and thought: “There, upstairs, is my mother. She looks at me and sees everything. Lenochka ... Mommy, dear, - my strongly beating heart whispered, - is it really my fault that they are so evil, such bad bullies?

Are you deaf or not! - suddenly there was a sharp cry behind me, and the tenacious fingers of the checkered lady dug into my shoulder. - You're acting like a real robber. Already at the station framed my leg ...

Not true! - out of myself I interrupted sharply. - Not true! I didn't do it! I accidentally pushed you!

Be silent! she shrieked so that Georges, who was standing not far from her, covered his ears. - Not only are you rude and harsh, you are also a liar and a fighter! Needless to say, we bought a treasure for our house! - And as she said this, she pulled me by the shoulders, by the hands and by the dress, while her eyes sparkled with malice. “You will be punished,” hissed Matilda Frantsevna, “you will be severely punished!” Go shoot burnous and galoshes! It is high time.

A sudden call made her stop talking. The children immediately recovered and pulled themselves up, having heard this call. George straightened his uniform, Tolya straightened his hair. Only Ninochka did not show any excitement and, bouncing on one leg, ran into the hall to see who was calling.

A footman ran through the living room, slipping soundlessly on the carpets with soft soles, the same footman who opened the doors for us.

Mother! Daddy! How late you are!

The sound of a kiss was heard, and a minute later a lady very smartly dressed in a light gray dress and a stout, very good-natured gentleman with the exact same, but only less important face that was in my uncle's portrait, entered the living room.

The beautiful, well-dressed lady was like two drops of water like Ninochka, or rather, Ninochka was the spitting image of a mother. The same cold, haughty little face, the same capriciously upturned lip.

Well hello girl! said the plump gentleman in a deep bass, addressing me. - Come here, let me see you! Well, well, kiss your uncle. Nothing to be shy about. Alive! he said in a playful voice...

But I didn't move. True, the face of the high gentleman was very similar to the face of his uncle in the portrait, but where were his gold-embroidered uniform, the important appearance and orders that were depicted in the portrait? No, I decided, this is not Uncle Misha.

The stout gentleman, seeing my indecision, said softly, turning to the lady:

She's a little wild, Nellie. Excuse me. You have to take care of her upbringing.

Thank you very much! - she answered and made a displeased grimace, which made her suddenly look even more like Ninochka. - I have little worries with my own! She will go to the gymnasium, they will drill her there ...

Well, of course, of course, - the full gentleman agreed. And then he added, turning to me: - Hello, Lena! Why don't you come and say hello to me! I'm your Uncle Michel.

Uncle? - suddenly broke from my lips in spite of my desire. - Are you an uncle? But what about the uniform and orders, where do you have that uniform and orders that I saw in the portrait?

At first he did not understand what I was asking him. But having figured out what was the matter, he laughed merrily and loudly in his loud, thick, bass voice.

So that's it, - he said good-naturedly, - did you want orders and a star? Well, I don’t put on orders and a star at home, girl. Excuse me, they lie in my chest of drawers for the time being ... And if you are smart and you won’t get bored with us - then I’ll show them to you as a reward ...

And leaning towards me, he lifted me into the air and kissed me hard on both cheeks.

I immediately liked my uncle. He was so affectionate, kind, that involuntarily attracted to him. In addition, he was the brother of the late mother, and this brought me even closer to him. I was about to throw myself on his neck and kiss his sweet, smiling face, when suddenly I heard the unpleasant, hissing voice of my new unexpected enemy, Matilda Frantsevna.

Do not caress her too much, Herr General (Mr. General), she is a very ugly girl, ”Matilda Frantsevna spoke up. - Only half an hour as in your house, and already managed to do a lot of bad things.

And then, in her nasty, hissing voice, Matilda Frantsevna recounted everything that had happened before the arrival of her uncle and aunt. The children confirmed her words. And none of them said why it all happened and who is the real culprit of all the troubles that happened. Only Lena was to blame for everything, only Lena ...

"Poor Lena! .. Mommy, why did you leave me?"

As the German woman spoke, my uncle's face became more and more gloomy and sad, and the more severe and colder were the eyes of Aunt Nelli, his wife, looking at me. Fragments of a broken vase and traces on the parquet from wet galoshes, together with Tolya's torn to pieces - all this was far from speaking in my favor.

When Matilda Frantsevna had finished, Aunt Nelli frowned severely and said:

You will certainly be punished next time if you allow yourself to do something like this.

My uncle looked at me with sad eyes and remarked:

Your mother was meek and obedient as a child, Lena. I'm sorry you look so little like her...

I was ready to cry from resentment and bitterness, I was ready to throw myself on my uncle’s neck and tell him that all this was not true, that I had been offended completely undeservedly and that I was far from being so guilty as they explained to him now. But the tears choked me, and I could not utter a word. And what was there to say! I still wouldn't believe...

Just at that moment, a footman in white gloves appeared on the threshold of the hall, with a napkin in his hands, and announced that the meal was served.

Go take off your outer clothes and wash your hands and smooth your hair,” Aunt Nelly ordered me in a stern, stern voice. - Ninochka will guide you.

Ninochka reluctantly broke away from her mother, who stood embracing her beloved. Having told me dryly "let's go," she led me somewhere by a whole series of bright, beautifully decorated rooms.

In a spacious nursery, where there were three identically arranged cots, she led me to an elegant marble washstand.

While I was washing my hands and carefully wiping them with a towel, Ninochka looked at me in great detail, tilting her blond head slightly to the side.

Thinking she wanted to talk to me but was shy, I gave her a reassuring smile.

But she suddenly snorted, blushed, and at the same moment turned her back on me.

I understood from this movement of the girl that she was angry with me for something, and decided to leave her alone.

Hunchback. - New enemy

When we entered the dining room, a chandelier was burning above the long dining table, brightly illuminating the room.

The whole family was already at dinner. Aunt Nelli showed me a place near Matilda Frantsevna, who thus found herself between me and Ninochka, who was sheltering near her mother. Sitting across from us were Uncle Michel and the two boys.

Beside me was another unoccupied device. This device involuntarily attracted my attention.

"Is there anyone else in the Iconin family?" I thought.

And as if to confirm my thoughts, my uncle looked at the empty device with displeased eyes and asked my aunt:

Punished again? Yes?

Must be! she shrugged.

My uncle wanted to ask something else, but he didn’t have time, because just at that time such a deafening bell rang in the hall that Aunt Nelli involuntarily covered her ears, and Matilda Frantsevna jumped a whole half a yard in her chair.

Disgusting girl! How many times has she been told not to ring like that! - said the aunt in an angry voice and turned to the door.

I looked there too. On the threshold of the dining room stood a small, ugly figure with raised shoulders and a long, pale face. The face was as ugly as the figure. A long hooked nose, thin pale lips, an unhealthy complexion and thick black eyebrows on a low, stubborn forehead. The only thing that was beautiful in this unchildishly stern and unkind old face was just the eyes. Big, black, smart and shrewd, they burned like two precious stone, and sparkled like stars on a thin, pale face.

When the girl turned a little, I immediately noticed a huge hump behind her shoulders.

Poor, poor girl! So that's why she has such an exhausted pale face, such a pitiful disfigured figure!

I felt sorry for her to tears. The late mother taught me to constantly love and pity the cripples offended by fate. But, obviously, no one but me spared the little hunchback. At least Matilda Frantsevna looked at her from head to toe with an angry look and asked, pursing her blue lips slyly:

Would you like to be punished again?

And Aunt Nellie glanced casually at the hunchback and said in passing:

Today again without cake. And in last time I forbid you to call like that. There is nothing to show your charming character on innocent things. Someday you will end the call. Angry!

I looked at the hunchback. I was sure that she would blush, be embarrassed, that tears would come to her eyes. But nothing happened! She went up to her mother with the most indifferent air and kissed her hand, then went to her father and kissed him somehow on the cheek. She did not even think to greet her brothers, sister and governess. I didn't seem to notice at all.

Julie! - the uncle turned to the hunchbacked girl as soon as she sat down in an unoccupied place next to me. - Don't you see that we have a guest? Say hello to Lena. She is your cousin.

The little hunchback raised her eyes from the bowl of soup, which she began to eat with great greed, and looked at me somehow sideways, casually.

God! What kind of eyes were those! Evil, hateful, threatening, stern, like a hungry wolf cub hunted down by hunters... It was as if I were her old and worst enemy, whom she hated with all her heart. That's what the black eyes of the humpbacked girl expressed...

When sweets were served—something beautiful, pink, and magnificent, in the form of a turret, on a large china dish—Aunt Nellie turned her cold, beautiful face to the footman and said sternly:

The older lady is without a cake today.

I looked at the hunchback. Her eyes lit up with evil lights, and her already pale face turned even paler.

Matilda Frantsevna put a piece of a lush pink turret on my plate, but I could not eat sweets, because two greedy black eyes looked at me with envy and malice.

It seemed impossible for me to eat my portion when my neighbor was deprived of sweets, and I resolutely pushed my plate away from me and whispered softly, leaning towards Julie:

Please don't worry, I won't eat either.

Get off! - she grunted almost audibly, but with an even greater expression of anger and hatred in her eyes.

When dinner was over, everyone left the table. Uncle and aunt immediately went somewhere, and we, the children, were sent to the classroom - a huge room near the nursery.

Georges immediately disappeared somewhere, saying in passing to Matilda Frantsevna that he was going to learn lessons. Julie followed suit. Nina and Tolya started some kind of noisy game, not paying any attention to my presence.

Elena, - I heard an unpleasant voice familiar to me behind me, - go to your room and sort out your things. It will be late in the evening. You must go to bed earlier today: tomorrow you will go to the gymnasium.

To the gymnasium?

Okay, did I misheard? Will they send me to high school? I was ready to jump for joy. Although I only had to spend two hours in my uncle's family, I already understood the full burden of the life ahead of me in this big, cold house in the company of an angry governess and evil cousins ​​and sisters. It is no wonder, therefore, that I was so delighted with the news of my admission to the gymnasium, where, probably, I would not be met as here. After all, there were not two, but perhaps thirty-two girls of the same age, among whom, of course, there are good, sweet children who will not offend me as much as this puffed-up, capricious Ninochka and the evil, gloomy and rude Julie. And besides, there probably won't be such an angry checkered lady as Matilda Frantsevna...

Somehow this news made my soul even more cheerful, and I ran to sort out my things, following the order of the governess. I didn’t even pay much attention to Ninochka’s remark to my brother, thrown after me:

Look, look, Tolya, our Mokritsa is no longer Mokritsa anymore, but a real goat in a sundress.

To which Tolya remarked:

That's right, she's in her mother's dress. Just a bag!

Trying not to listen to what they were saying, I hurried away from them.

Passing the corridor and some two or three not so large and not so bright rooms, of which one must have been a bedroom and the other a dressing room, I ran into the nursery, into the same room where Ninochka took me to wash my hands before dinner. .

Where is my suitcase, can you tell? - I politely turned with a question to a young maid who was making beds for the night.

She had a kind, ruddy face that smiled kindly at me.

No, no, young lady, you will not sleep here, - said the maid, - you will have a very special room; the general said so.

I did not immediately realize that the general's wife was Aunt Nelly, but nevertheless I asked the maid to show my room.

The third door to the right along the corridor, at the very end, - she readily explained, and it seemed to me that the girl's eyes with caress and sadness stopped on me when she said: - I'm sorry for you, young lady, it will be difficult for you with us. Our children are wicked, God forgive us! And she sighed ruefully and waved her hand.

I ran out of the bedroom with a pounding heart.

First... second... third... I counted the doors leading out into the corridor. Here it is - the third door that the girl was talking about. I push it, not without emotion... and in front of me is a small, tiny room with one window. There is a narrow bed against the wall, a simple washstand and a chest of drawers. But that's not what drew my attention. In the middle of the room lay my open suitcase, and around it on the floor lay my underwear, dresses, and all my simple possessions, which Maryushka had so carefully packed when she packed me for the journey. And humpbacked Julie sat above all my treasures and unceremoniously rummaged through the bottom of the suitcase.

Seeing this, I was so confused that I could not utter a word for the first minute. Silently I stood in front of the girl, not finding what to say to her. Then, immediately recovering and shaking myself, I said in a voice trembling with excitement:

And aren't you ashamed to touch something that doesn't belong to you?

None of your business! she cut me off rudely.

At that moment, her hand, constantly groping at the bottom of the suitcase, seized a package wrapped in paper and carefully tied with a ribbon. I knew what kind of bag it was, and I rushed to Julie with all my might, trying to snatch it from her hands. But it was not there. The hunchback was much more agile and faster than me. She raised her hand high above her head with the bundle, and in an instant jumped up on a table that stood in the middle of the room. Here she quickly unfolded the bundle, and at the same moment an old but beautiful dressing case looked out from under the paper, which the late mother always used at work and which she gave me almost on the eve of her death. I treasured this gift very much, because every little thing in this box reminded me of my dear. I handled the box so carefully, as if it were made of glass and could break at any minute. Therefore, it was very hard and painful for me to see how unceremoniously Julie rummaged through it, throwing every little thing from the toilet bag on the floor.

Scissors... a needle case... a thimble... piercers..." she went over, now and then throwing away one thing after another. - Excellent, everything is there ... The whole household ... And what is this? - And she grabbed a small portrait of mommy, which was at the bottom of the toilet bag.

I screamed softly and rushed over to her.

Listen ... - I whispered, trembling with excitement, - this is not good ... you dare not ... These are not yours ... but my things ... It is not good to take someone else's ...

Get off ... Don't whine! .. - the hunchback shouted at me and suddenly angrily, harshly laughed in my face. - And it was good to take away from me ... huh? What will you say about that? - choking with anger, she whispered.

Take away? You? What can I take from you? - amazed to the core, I exclaimed.

Yeah, don't you know? Tell me please, what innocence! So I believed you! Hold your pocket wider! Nasty, nasty, poor girl! It would be better if you didn't come. It would be easier without you. Still, it didn’t happen to me before, because I lived separately, not with the nasty Ninka, my mother’s favorite, and I had my own corner. And then ... you arrived, and they transferred me to the nursery to Ninka and to Bavaria ... Wow! How I hate you for that, you nasty, nasty one! You, and your travel bag, and everything, and everything!

And saying this, she waved her hand with her mother's portrait, obviously wanting to send it to the same place where the needle case, scissors and a pretty silver thimble, which the late mother was very fond of, had already found a place for themselves.

I grabbed her hand just in time.

Then the hunchback contrived and, quickly bending down to my hand, bit my finger with all her might.

I screamed out loud and stepped back.

At that very moment the door opened wide, and Ninochka rushed headlong into the room.

What? What? she jumped up to me and immediately, noticing the portrait in her sister's hands, she shouted, stamping her foot impatiently: - What do you have here? Now show! Show me this minute! Julie, show me!

But instead of a portrait, she showed her tongue to her sister. Ninochka so and boiled.

Oh, you wretched bastard! - she cried, rushing to Julie, and before I could restrain her, in one minute she found herself on the table next to her.

Show me now, this minute! she screamed piercingly.

And I don’t think, where did you get that I will show? the hunchback calmly objected, and raised her hand with the portrait still higher.

Then something very special happened. Ninochka jumped up on the table, wanting to snatch the little thing from Julie's hands, the table could not bear the weight of both girls, its leg turned up, and both of them, together with the table, flew to the floor with a deafening noise.

Scream... moan... tears... shriek.

Nina's blood flows like a stream from her nose and drips onto her pink sash and White dress. She screams at the whole house, choking with tears ...

Julie calmed down. She also had a bruised hand and knee. But she is silent and only secretly grunts in pain.

Matilda Frantsevna, Fyodor, Dunyasha, Georges and Tolya appear on the threshold of the room.

Witty! - pulls Georges in his usual way.

What? What happened? shouts Matilda Frantsevna, rushing towards me for some reason and shaking my hand.

I look with surprise into her round eyes, feeling absolutely no guilt behind me. And suddenly my gaze meets Julie's angry, burning, like a wolf cub's gaze. At the same moment the girl comes up to the governess and says:

Matilda Frantsevna, punish Lena. She killed Ninochka.

What is it?.. I can hardly believe my ears.

I? I nailed? I echo back.

And you say - do not you? Julie yelled at me sharply. - Look, Nina's nose is bleeding.

Great importance - blood! Only three drops, - Georges said with the air of a connoisseur, carefully examining Nina's swollen nose. - Amazing these girls, right! And they don't know how to fight properly. Three drops! Witty, nothing to say!

Yes, it's all false! - I started and did not finish my sentence, as bony fingers dug into my shoulder and Matilda Frantsevna dragged me somewhere out of the room.

Scary room. - Black bird

An angry German woman dragged me across the corridor and pushed me into some dark and cold room.

Sit here, - she shouted angrily, - if you do not know how to behave in a children's society!

And after that, I heard the door latch click from outside, and I was left alone.

I wasn't the least bit scared. My late mother taught me not to be afraid of anything. But nevertheless, the unpleasant feeling of being left alone in an unfamiliar cold dark room made itself felt. But even more painfully I felt resentment, burning resentment at the evil, cruel girls who slandered me.

Mommy! My dear mother, - I whispered, clasping my hands tightly, - why did you die, mother! If you had stayed with me, no one would have tortured your poor Lenusha.

And tears involuntarily flowed from my eyes, and my heart was beating strongly, strongly ...

Little by little my eyes began to adjust to the darkness. and I could already distinguish the objects around me: some boxes and cupboards on the walls. In the distance, a window was dimly white. I took a step toward him when a strange noise caught my attention. I involuntarily stopped and raised my head. Something large, round, with two dots burning in the darkness, was approaching me through the air. Two huge wings flapped frantically over my ear. The wind smelled in my face from these wings, and the burning points were approaching me every minute.

I was by no means a coward, but then an involuntary horror seized me. Trembling with fear, I waited for the monster to approach. And it got closer.

Two brilliant round eyes looked at me for a minute or two, and suddenly something hit me hard on the head...

I screamed loudly and fell unconscious to the floor.

Tell me what tenderness! Because of every trifle - clap in a swoon! What a sissy! I heard a rough voice, and opening my eyes with an effort, I saw before me the hated face of Matilda Frantsevna.

Now that face was pale with fright, and Bavaria's lower lip, as Georges called it, quivered nervously.

Where is the monster? I whispered in fear.

There was no monster! - snorted the governess, - do not invent, please. Or are you so stupid that you take an ordinary tame owl Georges for a monster? Filka, come here, you stupid bird! she called in a thin voice.

I turned my head, and by the light of the lamp, which must have been brought and placed on the table by Matilda Frantsevna, I saw a huge owl with a sharp, predatory nose and round eyes that burned with might and main ...

The bird looked at me with its head tilted to one side, with the most lively curiosity. Now, by the light of the lamp and in the presence of the governess, there was nothing terrible about her. At least to Matilda Frantsevna, obviously, she did not seem scary at all, because, turning to me, she spoke in a calm voice, paying no attention to the bird:

Listen, you nasty girl - this time I forgive you, but just dare me to offend one of the children again. Then I'll flog you without regret... Do you hear?

Flog! Should I be whipped?

The late mother never even raised her voice at me and was constantly pleased with her Lenusha, and now ... They threaten me with rods! And for what? .. I shuddered all over and, offended to the depths of my soul by the words of the governess, stepped towards the door.

Please, don’t try to gossip to your uncle that you were frightened by a tame owl and fainted, - the German said angrily, breaking off every word. - There is nothing terrible in this, and only such a fool as you could be afraid of an innocent bird. Well, there's nothing more for me to talk to you... March to sleep!

I could only obey.

After our cozy Rybinsk bedroom, how unpleasant Julie's closet, in which I was supposed to live, seemed to me!

Poor Julie! She probably did not have to make herself more comfortable if she spared me her wretched corner. It must be hard for her, poor poor thing!

And, completely forgetting that for the sake of this "wretched poor fellow" they locked me in a room with an owl and promised to flog me, I pitied her with all my heart.

Having undressed and prayed to God, I lay down on a narrow, uncomfortable bed and covered myself with a blanket. It was very strange for me to see this shabby bed and an old blanket in my uncle's luxurious surroundings. And suddenly a vague idea flashed through my mind why Julie had a poor closet and a poor blanket, while Ninochka elegant dresses, a beautiful nursery and a lot of toys. I involuntarily recalled the look of Aunt Nelli, the way she looked at the hunchback at the moment of her appearance in the dining room, and the eyes of the same aunt, turned on Ninochka with such caress and love.

And now I understood everything at once: Ninochka is loved and pampered in the family because she is lively, cheerful and pretty, but no one loves poor crippled Julie.

"Zhyulka", "snarky", "hump" - I involuntarily recalled the names given to her by her sister and brothers.

Poor Julie! Poor little cripple! Now I finally forgave the little hunchback for her trick with me. I felt infinitely sorry for her.

I will certainly make friends with her, I decided right there, I will prove to her how bad it is to slander and lie about others, and I will try to caress her. She, poor thing, does not see affection! And how good it will be for mommy there, in heaven, when she sees that her Lenusha repaid with affection for the enmity.

And with that good intention, I fell asleep.

That night I dreamed of a huge black bird with round eyes and the face of Matilda Frantsevna. The bird's name was Bavaria, and she ate a pink lush turret, which was served on the third for dinner. And the hunchbacked Julie certainly wanted to whip the black bird because she did not want to take the place of the conductor Nikifor Matveyevich, who was promoted to general.

In the gymnasium. - Unpleasant meeting. - I am a high school student

Here is a new student for you, Anna Vladimirovna. I warn you, the girl is very bad. Fuss will be enough for you with her. False, rude, pugnacious and disobedient. Order her more often. Frau Generalin (general) will have nothing against it.

And, having finished her long speech, Matilda Frantsevna gave me a triumphant look.

But I didn't look at her. All my attention was attracted by a tall, slender lady in a blue dress, with an order on her chest, with hair as white as a harrier, and a young, fresh, face without a single wrinkle. Her large, clear eyes, like those of a child, looked at me with undisguised sadness.

Ah-ah-ah, how bad, girl! she said, shaking her gray head.

And her face at that moment was as meek and gentle as my mother's. Only my mother was completely black, like a fly, and the blue lady was all gray-haired. But her face seemed no older than my mother and strangely reminded me of my dear.

Ah ah ah! she repeated without any anger. - Aren't you ashamed, girl?

Oh, how ashamed I was! I wanted to cry - I was so ashamed. But not from the consciousness of my guilt - I did not feel any guilt for myself - but only because I was slandered in front of this sweet, affectionate headmistress of the gymnasium, who so vividly reminded me of my mother.

All three of us, Matilda Frantsevna, Julie and I, came to the gymnasium together. The little hunchback ran to the classrooms, and the head of the gymnasium, Anna Vladimirovna Chirikova, detained me. It was to her that the evil Bavaria recommended me from such an unflattering side.

Do you believe it, - Matilda Frantsevna continued to tell the boss, - just a day after this girl was placed in our house, - then she shook her head in my direction, - and she has already done so much trouble that it is impossible to say!

And a long list of all my tricks began. At this point, I couldn't take it anymore. Tears welled up in my eyes at once, I covered my face with my hands and sobbed loudly.

Child! Child! What's wrong with you? - I heard the sweet voice of the blue lady above me. - Tears will not help here, girl, we must try to improve ... Don't cry, don't cry! - And she gently stroked my head with her soft white hand.

I don’t know what happened to me at that moment, but I quickly grabbed her hand and raised it to my lips. The headmistress was confused from surprise, then quickly turned in the direction of Matilda Frantsevna and said:

Don't worry, we'll get along with the girl. Tell General Ikonin that I accept it.

But remember, dear Anna Vladimirovna,” Bavaria said, curling her lips meaningfully, “Elena deserves a strict upbringing. Punish her as often as possible.

I do not need anyone's advice, - said the headmistress coldly, - I have my own method of raising children.

And with a barely noticeable nod of her head, she made it clear to the German woman that she could leave us alone.

Bavaria with an impatient gesture straightened her checkered talma and, shaking her finger meaningfully at me in parting, disappeared through the door.

When we were alone, my new patroness raised my head and, holding my face in her tender hands, said in a low, soulful voice:

I can't believe, girl, that you are like this.

Again my eyes filled with tears.

No no! I'm not like that, no! - escaped with a groan and a cry from my chest, and I, sobbing, threw myself on the chest of the boss.

She gave me time to cry well, then, stroking my head, she spoke:

You will be in junior high. We will not examine you now; Let's get you a little better. Now you will go to class to meet your new girlfriends. I will not accompany you, go alone. Children bond better without the help of elders. Try to be smart and I will love you. Do you want me to love you girl?

Oh-oh! - I could only utter, looking with admiration into her meek, beautiful face.

Well, look, - she shook her head, - and now go to class. Your squad is the first on the right down the hallway. Hurry, the teacher has already arrived.

I silently bowed and walked towards the door. At the threshold, I looked back to once again see the sweet young face and gray hair of the boss. And she looked at me.

Walk with God, girl! Your cousin Yulia Ikonina will introduce you to the class.

And with a nod of her head, Mrs. Chirikova dismissed me.

First door on the right! First door...

I looked around me in bewilderment, standing in a long bright corridor, on both sides of which there were doors with black planks nailed over them. Numbers are written on black boards indicating the name of the class behind the door.

The nearest door and the black plaque above it belonged to the first, or junior, class. I bravely approached the door and opened it.

Thirty or so girls sit on benches at sloping music stands. There are two of them on each bench, and they all write down something in blue notebooks. A dark-haired gentleman with glasses and a trimmed beard sits on a high pulpit and reads something aloud. On the opposite wall, at a small table, some skinny girl, dark-haired, with yellow face, with slanting eyes, covered in freckles, with a thin pigtail, laid at the back of the head, knits a stocking, quickly moving the needles.

As soon as I appeared on the threshold, all thirty girls, as if on command, turned their blond, black and red heads towards me. A skinny young lady with slanting eyes squirmed uneasily in her seat. A tall gentleman with a beard and glasses, who was sitting at a separate table on a raised platform, looked me over with a fixed gaze from head to toe and said, addressing the whole class and looking over his glasses:

New girl?

And red-haired, and dark-haired, and white-haired girls shouted in chorus in different voices:

New girl, Vasily Vasilyevich!

Iconina-second!

Sister of Yulia Ikonina.

Yesterday I just arrived from Rybinsk.

From Kostroma!

From Yaroslavl!

From Jerusalem!

From South America!

Be silent! - Shouted, straining, a skinny young lady in a blue dress.

The teacher, whom the children called Vasily Vasilyevich, covered his ears, then opened them and asked:

And who among you can say when well-bred girls are chickens?

When they cackle! - a pink-haired blond girl with cheerful eyes and an upturned bead-shaped nose answered briskly from the front bench.

Exactly, sir, - answered the teacher, - and I ask you to leave your clucking on this occasion. New girl, - he turned to me, - are you sister or cousin of Ikonina?

"Cousin," I wanted to answer, but at that moment a pale Julie rose from one of the nearest benches and said dryly:

Why so? Why such disgrace? - he was amazed.

Because she is a liar and a fighter! shouted a fair-haired girl with cheerful eyes from her seat.

How do you know, Soboleva? The teacher turned his eyes to her.

Iconina told me. And she said the same to the whole class, - the lively Soboleva answered briskly.

Thumbs up! the teacher chuckled. - Well, you introduced your cousin, Ikonina. Nothing to say! Frankly! Yes, if I were you, if it were so, I would hide from my friends that your cousin is a fighter, and you definitely brag about it. It is a shame to take dirty linen out of the hut! And then ... Strange, but this thin girl in a mourning dress does not look like a fighter. Is that what I say, eh, Iconina II?

The question was addressed directly to me. I knew I had to answer, and I couldn't. In a strange embarrassment, I stood at the door of the classroom, stubbornly looking at the floor.

Well, good, good. Don't be embarrassed! The teacher addressed me in a gentle voice. - Sit down and deprive the dictation ... Zhebeleva, give a notebook and a pen to the new one. She will sit down with you, - commanded the teacher.

At these words, a girl as black as a fly, with small eyes and a thin pigtail, rose from a nearby bench. She had an unkind face and very thin lips.

Sit down! - quite ungraciously she threw in my direction and, moving a little, gave me a place near her.

The teacher turned his head to the book, and after a minute the classroom was still quiet.

Vasily Vasilyevich repeated the same phrase several times, and therefore it was very easy to write under his dictation. The late mother herself studied Russian and arithmetic with me. I was very diligent, and for my nine years of age I wrote quite tolerably. Today, with particular zeal, I drew out the letters, trying to please the teacher who was kind to me, and very beautifully and correctly wrote the whole page.

Dot. Enough. Zhukova, collect notebooks, - ordered the teacher.

A thin, pointed-nosed girl, my age, began to go around the benches and collect notebooks into one common pile.

Vasily Vasilievich found my notebook and, quickly opening it, began to look through it before all the other notebooks.

Bravo, Iconina, bravo! Not a single mistake, and written cleanly and beautifully,” he said in a cheerful voice.

I try very hard, mister teacher, no wonder you are satisfied with my work! my cousin Julie said to the whole class.

Ah, is that you, Iconina-first? No, I'm not pleased with you, but with your cousin's work, - the teacher hastened to explain. And then, seeing how the girl blushed, he reassured her: - Well, well, do not be embarrassed, young lady. Maybe your work will be even better.

And he quickly found her notebook in the general pile, hurriedly opened it, ran through what was written ... and clasped his hands, then quickly turned Julie's notebook to us with an open page and, raising it high above his head, cried out, addressing the whole class:

What is it, girls? The dictation of a student or the prank of a rooster who dipped his paw in ink and scribbled these scribbles?

The whole page of Julie's notebook was dotted with large and small blots. The class laughed. The skinny young lady, who, as I found out later, turned out to be a classy lady, threw up her hands, and Julie stood at her music stand with sullenly knitted eyebrows and an angry, wicked face. She didn't seem ashamed at all - she was just angry.

And the teacher, meanwhile, continued to examine the page covered with scribbles and counted:

One... two... three mistakes... four... five... ten... fifteen... twenty... Not bad, there are twenty mistakes in ten lines. Be ashamed, Iconina-first! You are the oldest and the worst writer. Take a cue from your younger cousin! Shame on you, very shame on you!

He wanted to say something else, but at that moment the bell rang, announcing the end of the lesson.

All the girls started up at once and jumped up from their seats. The teacher stepped down from the pulpit, bowed to the class in response to the friendly squats of the girls, shook hands with the class lady, and disappeared through the door.

Bullying. - Japanese. - Unit

You, like you, Dracunina! ..

No, Lgunishkina...

No, Krikunova...

Ah, she's just Podlizova!

Yes, yes, it was Podlizova... Tell me, what is your name?

How old are you?

She's years old, girls, a lot! She is a hundred years old. She is a grandmother! See how hunched over and cringed she is. Grandmother, grandmother, where are your granddaughters?

And cheerful, alive as mercury Soboleva pulled my pigtail with all her might.

Ay! - involuntarily escaped from me.

Aha! Do you know where the bird "ay" lives! - the minx laughed at the top of her voice, while other girls surrounded me in a tight circle from all sides. They all had unkind faces. Black, gray, blue and brown eyes looked at me, gleaming with angry lights.

What is it, your tongue has been taken away, or something, - the little black Zhebeleva cried out, - or are you so proud that you don’t want to talk to us?

But how could she not be proud: Yashka himself distinguished her! He set an example for all of us. All old students - a new one. Shame! A shame! Yashka shamed us! cried a pretty, pale, fragile girl named Ivina, the most desperate minx in the class and a daredevil, as I later found out.

Shame! A shame! True, Ivy! Truth! - picked up with one voice all the girls.

Poison Yashka! Give him good credit for this! In the next lesson, flood his bath! - shouted in one corner.

Burn the bath! Bath for sure! - shouted in another.

New girl, look, if you don’t heat baths for Yashka, we will make you alive! - rang in the third.

I understood absolutely nothing what the girls were saying, and stood stunned, bruised. The words "Yashka", "heat the bathhouse", "poison" were completely incomprehensible to me.

Only, look, do not give out, this is not comradely! Do you hear! - a plump, round, like a ball, girl, Zhenechka Rosh, jumped up to me. - And then beware!

Watch out! Watch out! If you betray us, we will poison you ourselves! Look!

Do you really think, madamochki, that she will not betray? Lenka something? Yes, she will let you down with her head in order to excel herself. Here, they say, what a clever girl I am, one among them!

I raised my eyes to the speaker. Julie's pale face showed that she was angry. Her eyes glowed angrily, her lips twisted.

I wanted to answer her, but I couldn't. Girls from all sides advanced on me, shouting and threatening. Their faces lit up. The eyes sparkled.

Don't you dare give it away! Do you hear? Don't you dare, or we'll show you, ugly girl! they shouted.

Another bell calling for the arithmetic class made them quickly retreat and take their places. Only the naughty Ivina did not want to calm down right away.

Mrs. Drachunikova, if you please, sit down. There are no wheelchairs that would take you to your place! she screamed.

Ivina, do not forget that you are in the class, - sounded harsh voice cool lady.

I won't forget, mademoiselle! - the minx said in the most innocent tone and then added as if nothing had happened: - It's not true, mademoiselle, that you are Japanese and came to us here directly from Tokyo?

What? What? - so the skinny young lady jumped up on the spot. - How dare you say that?

No, no, don't worry, mademoiselle, I also know that it's not true. Today, before the lesson, the eldest pupil Okuneva says to me: “You know, Ivushka, because your Zoya Ilyinishna is a Japanese spy, I know this for sure ... and ...”

Ivina, don't be shy!

By God, it wasn't I who said it, mademoiselle, but Okuneva from the first class. You scold her. She also said that you were sent here to...

Ivin! One more word and you will be punished! - finally lost her cool lady.

Why, I'm only repeating what Okuneva said. I kept quiet and listened...

Ivina, get up to the blackboard! This very minute! I am punishing you.

Then punish Okunev too. She spoke and I listened. You can’t punish just for the fact that a person has been given ears ... Lord, how unfortunate we are, really, that is, those who hear, - the minx did not let up, while the rest of the girls snorted with laughter.

The door opened wide, and a round little man with huge belly and with such a happy expression on his face, as if he had just had a chance to learn something very pleasant.

Ivina guards the board! Wonderful! he said, rubbing his plump little hands. - Have you been naughty again? - slyly narrowing his eyes, said a round little man, whose name was Adolf Ivanovich Sharf and who was an arithmetic teacher in a class of little ones.

I am punished only for the fact that I have ears and that I hear what Zoya Ilyinishna does not like, - the naughty Ivina drawled in a capricious voice, pretending to be crying.

Bad girl! - Zoya Ilyinishna said, and I saw how she was trembling all over with excitement and anger.

I felt deeply sorry for her. True, she did not seem either kind or pretty, but Ivina was by no means kind: she tormented the poor girl, and I was very sorry for the latter.

Meanwhile, round Scharf gave us an arithmetic problem, and the whole class set to work on it. Then he called the girls in turn to the blackboard until the end of the lesson.

The next class was Batiushkin. Strict in appearance, even stern, the priest spoke abruptly and quickly. It was very difficult to keep up with him as he talked about how Noah built an ark and sailed with his family across vast ocean while all other people died for their sins. The girls involuntarily subsided, listening to him. Then the priest began to call the girls one by one to the middle of the class and ask the questions.

Julie was also called.

She became all red when the priest called her last name, then turned pale and could not utter a word.

Julie didn't learn her lesson.

Batiushka glanced at Julie, then at the magazine that lay on the table in front of him, then dipped the pen into the ink and gave Julie a fat one like a worm.

It's a shame to study poorly, and also the general's daughter! - the father said angrily.

Julie calmed down.

At twelve o'clock in the afternoon the lesson of the law of God ended, and a great change began, that is free time until the hour at which the schoolgirls had breakfast and did whatever they wanted. I found in my bag a sandwich with meat prepared for me by the caring Dunyasha, the only person who treated me well. I ate a sandwich and thought how hard it would be for me to live in the world without my mother and why I am so unhappy, why I could not immediately make me love me and why the girls were so angry with me.

However, during the big break they were so busy with their breakfast that they forgot about me. At precisely one o'clock a Frenchwoman, Mademoiselle Mercois, came in, and we read fables with her. Then a tall German teacher, thin as a hanger, gave us German dictation - and only at two o'clock the bell announced to us that we were free.

Like a flock of shaken birds, the whole class rushed in all directions to the large hallway, where the girls were already waiting for their mothers, sisters, relatives or just servants to take them home.

Matilda Frantsevna came after Julie and me, and under her command we went home.

Filka is gone. - They want to punish me

The huge hanging chandelier in the dining-room was lit again, and candles were placed at either end of the long table. Fyodor appeared inaudibly again with a napkin in his hands and announced that the meal was served. It was on the fifth day of my stay at my uncle's house. Aunt Nelly, very smart and very beautiful, entered the dining room and took her place. Uncle was not at home: he was supposed to arrive very late today. We all gathered in the dining room, only Georges was not there.

Where is Georges? asked my aunt, turning to Matilda Frantsevna.

She didn't know anything.

And suddenly, at that very moment, Georges burst into the room like a hurricane and loud cries threw himself on his mother's chest.

He roared throughout the house, sobbing and wailing. His whole body shook with sobs. Georges could only tease his sisters and brother and "wit it," as Ninochka used to say, and therefore it was terribly strange to see him in tears himself.

What? What? What happened to Georges? they all asked with one voice.

But he could not calm down for a long time.

Aunt Nelly, who had never caressed either him or Tolya, saying that caresses do not benefit boys, but that they should be held strictly, this time gently hugged him by the shoulders and pulled him to her.

What's wrong with you? Speak, George! - she asked her son in the most affectionate voice.

The sobbing continued for several minutes. Finally, Georges spoke with great difficulty in a voice broken by sobs:

Filka is gone... mother... Filka...

How? What? What?

All at once gasped and fussed. Filka was none other than the owl that frightened me on the first night of my stay at my uncle's house.

Filka is gone? How? How?

But George didn't know. And we knew no more than him. Filka always lived, from the day he appeared in the house (that is, from the day his uncle brought him one day, returning from a suburban hunt), in a large pantry, where they entered very rarely, at certain hours and where Georges himself appeared accurately twice a day. a day to feed Filka raw meat and train him in freedom. He spent long hours visiting Filka, whom he loved, it seems, much more than his sisters and brother. At least, Ninochka assured everyone of this.

And suddenly - Filka disappeared!

Immediately after dinner, everyone set about looking for Filka. Only Julie and I were sent to the nursery to teach lessons.

As soon as we were alone, Julie said:

And I know where Filka is!

I looked up at her, puzzled.

I know where Filka is! repeated the hunchback. - This is good ... - she suddenly spoke, panting, which was always with her when she was worried, - this is very good. Georges did something nasty to me, and Filka disappeared from him ... Very, very good!

And she giggled triumphantly, rubbing her hands.

Then I immediately remembered one scene - and I understood everything.

On the day when Julie received an A for the law of God, my uncle was in a very bad mood. He received some unpleasant letter and walked around pale and dissatisfied all evening. Julie, fearing that she would get more than in another case, asked Matilda Frantsevna not to talk about her unit that day, and she promised. But Georges could not stand it and accidentally or deliberately announced publicly over evening tea:

And Julie got a stake from the law of God!

Julie is punished. And that same evening, going to bed, Julie shook her fists at someone, already lying in bed (I accidentally went into their room at that moment), and said:

Well, I'll remember him for that. He will dance with me! ..

And she remembered - on Filka. Filka disappeared. But how? How and where could a little twelve-year-old girl hide a bird - I could not guess this.

Julie! Why did you do it? I asked when we returned to the classroom after lunch.

What did she do? - so the hunchback started up.

Where are you doing Filka?

Filka? I? Am I doing? she cried, all pale and agitated. - Yes, you're crazy! I haven't seen Filka. Get out please...

And why are you ... - I started and did not finish.

The door opened wide, and Matilda Frantsevna, red as a peony, flew into the room.

Very well! Fabulous! Thief! Concealer! Criminal! - threateningly shaking her hands in the air, she shouted.

And before I could even say a word, she grabbed me by the shoulders and dragged me somewhere.

Familiar corridors flashed before me, cupboards, chests and baskets that stood there along the walls. Here is the pantry. The door is wide open into the hallway. Aunt Nelli, Ninochka, Georges, Tolya are standing there ...

Here! I brought the culprit! cried Matilda Frantsevna triumphantly and pushed me into a corner.

Then I saw a small chest and in it Filka, spread out at the bottom of the dead. The owl lay with its wings spread wide and its beak buried in the board of the chest. She must have suffocated in it from lack of air, because her beak was wide open, and her round eyes almost popped out of their sockets.

I looked at Aunt Nelly in surprise.

What it is? I asked.

And she still asks! - Shouted, or rather squealed, Bavaria. - And she still dares to ask - she, an incorrigible pretender! she shouted to the whole house, waving her arms like a windmill with its wings.

I'm not to blame for anything! Trust me! I said softly.

Not guilty! said Aunt Nellie, narrowing her cold eyes at me. - Georges, who do you think put the owl in the box? she turned to her eldest son.

Of course, Mokritsa, - he said in a confident voice. - Filka scared her then at night! .. And here she is in revenge for this ... Very witty ... - And he whimpered again.

Of course, Mokritsa! Ninochka confirmed his words.

I was definitely overwhelmed. I stood there, not understanding anything. I was accused - and of what? Which was not my fault at all.

Only Tolya was silent. His eyes were wide open, and his face was as white as chalk. He held on to his mother's dress and stared at me.

I looked again at Aunt Nellie and did not recognize her face. Always calm and beautiful, it somehow twitched when she spoke.

You are right, Matilda Frantsevna. The girl is incorrigible. We must try to punish her sensitively. Organize, please. Let's go, children, - she said, turning to Nina, Georges and Tolya.

And, taking the younger ones by the hands, she led them out of the pantry.

Julie looked into the pantry for a moment. She already had a completely pale, agitated face, and her lips were trembling, exactly like Tolya's.

I looked at her with pleading eyes.

Julie! burst out of my chest. - Because you know it's not my fault. Say it.

But Julie said nothing, turned on one leg and disappeared through the door.

At that very moment Matilda Frantsevna leaned out the door and shouted:

Dunyasha! Rozog!

I got cold. Sticky sweat broke out on my forehead. Something rolled up to his chest and squeezed his throat.

Me? carve? Me - my mother's Lenochka, who was always such a smart girl in Rybinsk, whom everyone did not praise? .. And for what? For what?

Without remembering myself, I threw myself on my knees in front of Matilda Frantsevna and, sobbing, covered her hands with bony hooked fingers with kisses.

Don't punish me! Don't hit! I screamed furiously. - For God's sake, don't hit! Mommy never punished me. Please. I beg you! For God's sake!

But Matilda Frantsevna did not want to hear anything. At the same moment, Dunyasha's hand slipped through the door with some kind of disgusting tuft. Dunyasha's face was all flooded with tears. Obviously, good girl felt sorry for me.

Ah, great! - hissed Matilda Frantsevna and almost tore the rod out of the hands of the maid. Then she jumped up to me, grabbed me by the shoulders and with all her strength threw me onto one of the chests that were in the pantry.

My head began to spin more ... My mouth felt bitter, and somehow cold at the same time. And suddenly...

Don't you dare touch Lena! Don't you dare! a trembling voice rang out over my head.

I quickly jumped to my feet. It was like something lifted me up. Tolya stood in front of me. Big tears rolled down his baby face. The collar of the jacket has slid to the side. He gasped. It can be seen that the boy hurried here headlong.

Mademoiselle, don't you dare flog Lena! he shouted beside himself. - Lena is an orphan, her mother died ... It's a sin to offend orphans! You better whip me. Lena did not touch Filka! The truth did not touch! Well, do whatever you want with me, but leave Lena!

He was shaking all over, trembling all over, his whole thin body was trembling under the velvet suit, and more and more streams of tears were flowing from blue eyes.

Tolya! Shut up now! Listen, stop crying this very minute! the governess shouted at him.

And you will not touch Lena? - sobbing, whispered the boy.

None of your business! Go to the nursery! Bavaria shouted again and waved a disgusting bunch of rods over me.

But then something happened that neither I, nor she, nor Tolya himself expected: the boy's eyes rolled back, the tears stopped at once, and Tolya, staggering heavily, collapsed on the floor with all his might in a faint.

There was a cry, noise, running, stomping.

The governess rushed to the boy, picked him up in her arms and carried him somewhere. I was left alone, not understanding anything, not thinking about anything at first. I was very grateful to the dear boy for saving me from a shameful punishment, and at the same time I was ready to be flogged by the nasty Bavaria, if only Tolya remained healthy.

Thinking in this way, I sat down on the edge of the chest that stood in the storeroom, and I myself do not know how, but immediately fell asleep, exhausted by the excitement I had endured.

Little friend and liverwurst

Shh! Are you awake, Lenochka?

What? I open my eyes in confusion. Where I am? What's wrong with me?

Moonlight pours into the pantry through a small window, and in this light I see a small figure that quietly creeps towards me.

The small figurine is wearing a long white shirt, in which angels are painted, and the face of the figurine is the real face of an angel, white, white, like sugar. But what the figurine brought with it and held out to me with its tiny paw, no angel will ever bring. This something is nothing more than a huge piece of thick liverwurst.

Eat, Lenochka! - I hear a quiet whisper, in which I recognize the voice of my recent defender Tolya. - Eat, please. You haven't eaten anything since lunch. I waited for them to settle down, and Bavaria also, went to the dining room and brought you a sausage from the buffet.

But you were in a swoon, Tolechka! - I was surprised. - How did they let you in here?

Nobody thought to let me in. Here is a funny girl! I went myself. Bavaria fell asleep, sitting by my bed, and I came to you... Don't think... After all, this often happens to me. Suddenly, your head will spin, and - boom! I love it when it happens to me. Then Bavaria gets scared, runs and cries. I love it when she gets frightened and cries, because then she is hurt and scared. I hate her, Bavaria, yes! And you ... you ... - Here the whisper broke off at once, and in an instant two small cold hands wrapped around my neck, and Tolya, softly sobbing and clinging to me, whispered in my ear: - Lenochka! Cute! Kind! Good! Forgive me, for God's sake... I was an evil, bad boy. I teased you. Do you remember? Ah, Lenochka! And now, when the little girl wanted to rip you out, I immediately realized that you are good and not to blame for anything. And I felt so sorry for you, poor orphan! - Here Tolya hugged me even tighter and burst into sobs.

I gently wrapped my arm around his blond head, put him on my knees, pressed him to my chest. Something good, bright, joyful filled my soul. Suddenly everything became so easy and gratifying in her. It seemed to me that Mom herself was sending me my new little friend. I so wanted to get close to one of the Ikonins' children, but in return I received only ridicule and scolding from them. I would have gladly forgiven Julie and made friends with her, but she pushed me away, and this sickly little boy himself wanted to caress me. Dear, dear Tolya! Thank you for your kindness! How I will love you, my dear, dear!

And the fair-haired boy said meanwhile:

Forgive me, Lenochka... everything, everything... I am sick and fit, but still kinder than all of them, yes, yes! Eat sausage, Lenochka, you're hungry. Be sure to eat, otherwise I will think that you are still angry with me!

Yes, yes, I will eat, dear, dear Tolya! And right there, in order to please him, I divided the fat, juicy liver sausage in half, gave one half to Tolya, and took up the other myself.

I have never eaten anything better in my life! When the sausage was eaten, my little friend held out his hand to me and said, looking timidly at me with his clear eyes:

So remember, Lenochka, Tolya is now your friend!

I firmly shook this liver-stained hand and at once advised him to go to bed.

Go, Tolya, - I persuaded the boy, - otherwise Bavaria will appear ...

And dare not do anything. Here! he interrupted me. - After all, dad once and for all forbade her to worry me, otherwise I faint from excitement ... So she did not dare. But I'm still going to sleep, and you go too.

Having kissed me, Tolya slapped his bare legs towards the door. But at the threshold he stopped. A sly smile flickered across his face.

Goodnight! - he said. - Go to sleep too. Bavaria has long gone to sleep. However, it is not Bavaria at all, - he added slyly. - I found out ... She says that she comes from Bavaria. And that's not true... She's from Reval... Revel sprat... That's who she is, our mummy! Sprat, but he puts on airs ... ha-ha-ha!

And, completely forgetting that Matilda Frantsevna might wake up, and with her everyone in the house, Tolya ran out of the pantry with a loud laugh.

I also followed him to my room.

Liver sausage, eaten at an odd hour and without bread, left an unpleasant taste of fat in my mouth, but my soul was light and joyful. For the first time since my mother's death, my soul felt cheerful: I found a friend in a cold uncle's family.

Surprise. - Fiscal. - Robinson and his Friday

The next morning, as soon as I woke up, Dunyasha ran into my room.

Young lady! Surprise for you! Get dressed quickly and go into the kitchen while Mamzel is still undressed. Guests to you! she added mysteriously.

Guests? To me? - I was surprised. - Who is it?

And guess what! she smiled slyly, and immediately her face assumed a sad expression. - I'm sorry for you, young lady! she said, and looked down to hide her tears.

Feel sorry for me? Why, Dunyasha?

Why is known. They offend you. Just now, Bavaria ... that is, Matilda Frantsevna, - the girl hastily corrected herself, - how she attacked you, huh? Rozog demanded more. It's good that the barchuk stood up. Oh you, my miserable young lady! - the kind girl concluded and unexpectedly hugged me. Then she quickly wiped away her tears with her apron and said again in a cheerful voice: - But still get dressed quickly. Therefore, a surprise awaits you in the kitchen.

I hurried, and in about twenty minutes I had my hair done, washed and prayed to God.

Well, let's go! Only, fool! Be careful. Don't give me away! Do you hear? Mamzel won't let you go into the kitchen, you know. So you be careful! Dunyasha whispered merrily to me along the way.

I promised to be "more careful" and, burning with impatience and curiosity, ran to the kitchen.

Here is the door, stained with grease ... So I open it wide - and ... And really a surprise. The most pleasant, which I did not expect.

Nikifor Matveevich! I am so glad! - burst out of me joyfully.

Yes, it was Nikifor Matveyevich in a brand new, brand-new conductor's caftan, festive boots and a new belt. He must have deliberately dressed up better before coming here. Near my old acquaintance stood a pretty quick-eyed girl of my age and a tall boy with an intelligent, expressive face and deep dark eyes.

Hello, dear young lady, - Nikifor Matveyevich said affably, holding out his hand to me, - so we met again. I met you by chance on the street when you and your governess and sister were going to the gymnasium. I traced where you live - and now I came to you. And he brought Nyurka to meet Sergei. Yes, and to remind you, by the way, that it is a shame to forget friends. They promised to come to us and did not come. And my uncle has his own horses. Could you please come and visit us? BUT?

What could I answer him? That not only can I not ask them to give me a ride, but I don’t even dare to utter a word in my uncle’s house?

Fortunately, pretty Nyurochka rescued me.

And I imagined you exactly like that, Lenochka, when my aunt told me about you! she said briskly and kissed me on the lips.

And me too! - Seryozha echoed her, holding out his hand to me.

I felt good and happy with them. Nikifor Matveyevich sat down on a stool at the kitchen table, Nyura and Seryozha were beside him, I was in front of them, and we all started talking at once. Nikifor Matveyevich told how he still rides his train from Rybinsk to St. Petersburg and back, that in Rybinsk everyone bows to me - at home, and the station, and gardens, and the Volga, Nyurochka told how easy and fun it is for her to study at school, Seryozha boasted that he would soon graduate from college and go to study with a bookbinder to bind books. They were all so friendly with each other, so happy and contented, but meanwhile they were poor people who existed on their father’s modest salary and lived somewhere on the outskirts of the city in a small wooden house, in which it must be cold and damp at times.

I could not help thinking that there are happy poor people, while rich children who do not need anything, like Georges and Nina, for example, are never satisfied with anything.

Here, young lady, when you get bored in wealth and in the hall, - as if guessing my thoughts, the conductor said, - then please come to us. We will be very happy to see you...

But then he suddenly broke off his speech. Dunyasha, who was standing on guard at the door (there was no one in the kitchen except us and her), desperately waved her hands, making some kind of sign to us. At the same moment the door opened, and Ninochka, in her elegant white dress with pink bows at her temples, appeared on the threshold of the kitchen.

For a moment she stood in indecision. Then a contemptuous smile twisted her lips, she screwed up her eyes in her usual way and drawled mockingly:

That's how! Our Elena's men are visiting! Found a community! She wants to be a schoolgirl and make friends with some peasants... Nothing to say!

I felt terribly ashamed of my cousin, ashamed of Nikifor Matveyevich and his children.

Nikifor Matveyevich silently glanced at the blond girl, who was looking at him with a disgusted grimace.

Ay-ay, young lady! You obviously don't know peasants, that you abhor them," he said, shaking his head reproachfully. - It's a shame to shun a man. He plows and reaps and threshes on you. You, of course, do not know this, but it's a pity ... Such a young lady - and such a fool. And he smiled a little mockingly.

How dare you be rude to me! Nina screamed and stamped her foot.

I'm not being rude, but I pity you, young lady! I pity you for your stupidity…” Nikifor Matveyevich answered her affectionately.

Rude. I complain to my mom! - the girl got out of herself.

Anyone, young lady, I'm not afraid of anything. I told the truth. You wanted to offend me by calling me a muzhik, but I proved to you that a good muzhik is much better than an angry little young lady...

Don't you dare say that! Nasty! Don't you dare! - Nina lost her temper and suddenly, with a loud cry, rushed from the kitchen into the rooms.

Well, trouble, young lady! exclaimed Dunyasha. - Now they ran to mama to complain.

Well, young lady! I wouldn't even want to know her! Nyura suddenly cried out, silently observing this scene all the time.

Shut up, Nurka! her father stopped her gently. - What do you understand ... - And suddenly, unexpectedly, putting his big head on my head working hand, he gently stroked my hair and said: - And you really are a miserable orphan, Lenochka. What kind of children do you have to hang out with. Well, be patient, no one is like God ... But it will be unbearable - remember, you have friends ... Have you lost our address?

Not lost, - I whispered a little audibly.

By all means come to us, Lenochka, - Nyura unexpectedly said and kissed me hard, - I fell in love with you so much according to my aunt's stories, so I will ...

She did not finish her sentence - just at that moment Fyodor entered the kitchen and said, making a stern face:

Young lady Elena Viktorovna, please see the general. And he opened the door wide for me.

I said a quick goodbye to my friends and went to my aunt's. My heart, I will not hide, was shrinking from fear. Blood pounded in my temples.

Aunt Nelli was sitting in front of a mirror in her dressing room, and the head maid Matryosha, to whom Dunyasha was an assistant, was combing her head.

Aunt Nellie was wearing her pink Japanese robe, which always smelled so good of perfume.

When she saw me, my aunt said:

Pray tell me, who are you, Elena, your uncle's niece or the cook's daughter? In what company did Ninochka find you in the kitchen! Some guy, a soldier, with guys just like him... God knows what! You were forgiven yesterday in the hope that you will improve, but, apparently, you do not want to improve. For the last time I repeat to you: behave properly and be well-behaved, otherwise ...

Aunt Nellie talked for a long time, a very long time. Her gray eyes looked at me not angrily, but so attentively, coldly, as if I were some curious little thing, and not little Lena Ikonina, her niece. I even felt hot under this look, and I was very pleased when my aunt finally let me go.

At the threshold behind the door, I heard her say to Matryosha:

Tell Fyodor to drive this one like him, the conductor and his guys, if he doesn’t want us to call the police ... There is no place for a little young lady to be in their society.

"Drive Nikifor Matveyevich, Nyurochka, Seryozha!" Deeply offended, I went to the dining room. Even before reaching the threshold, I heard screams and an argument.

Fiscalka! Fiscalka! Yabednitsa! - shouted, losing his temper, Tolya.

And you are a fool! Baby! Ignoramus!..

So what! I'm small, but I know that gossip is disgusting! And you gossiped about Lenochka to your mother! You are fiscal!

Ignoramus! Ignoramus! - Ninochka squeaked, losing her temper.

Shut up, gossip! Georges, after all, in your gymnasium they would have taught you a great lesson, huh? So they would "play" that just hold on! He turned to his brother for support.

But Georges, who had just stuffed a mouthful of sandwiches, mumbled something incomprehensible in response.

At that moment I entered the dining room.

Lenochka, dear! Tolya rushed towards me.

Georges even jumped up in his chair at the sight of affectionate child kisses and hugs me.

That's such a thing! - he drawled, making big eyes. - Dog friendship to the first bone! Witty!

Ha ha ha! Ninochka laughed out loud. - That's it - to the first bone ...

Robinson and Friday! her older brother echoed.

Don't you dare scold! - Tolya lost his temper. - You yourself are a disgusting Wednesday ...

Ha ha ha! Wednesday! Nothing to say, witty! said Georges, conscientiously filling his mouth with sandwiches.

It's time for high school! said Matilda Frantsevna, appearing inaudibly on the threshold.

But still, don’t you dare scold, - Tolya threatened his brother with a tiny fist. - Look, you called Friday ... What!

This is not a scolding, Tolya, - I hurried to explain to the boy, - it was such a wild ...

Wild? I don't want to be wild! - the little boy balked again. - I don’t want, I don’t want ... Wild ones - they walk around naked and don’t wash anything. They eat human flesh.

No, it was a very special wild one, - I explained, - he didn’t eat people, he was true friend one sailor. There is a story about him. Nice story. I will read it to you sometime. My mother read it to me, and I have a book ... And now goodbye. Be smart. I need to go to high school.

And, kissing the boy warmly, I hurried after Matilda Frantsevna into the hallway to get dressed.

Julie joined us there. She was somehow confused today and avoided meeting my eyes, as if she were ashamed of something.

Lidia Alekseevna Charskaya - NOTES OF A LITTLE GIRL STUDENT - 01, read text

See also Charskaya Lidia Alekseevna - Prose (stories, poems, novels ...):

NOTES OF A LITTLE GIRL STUDENT - 02
Chapter XIII Yashka is being poisoned. - Changer. - Countess Simolin Noise, scream, viz...

NOTES OF AN ORPHAN
PART I CHAPTER ONE ORPHAN KATYA I remember a small bright room in...

Lydia Charskaya was the most popular children's writer in Russia in the pre-revolutionary years. The story "Notes of a little schoolgirl" is one of her best works. The story of the adopted girl attracts readers with its lyricism and sincerity. This is a true story about how Russian children studied and lived at the beginning of the 20th century.

1. To a strange city, to strangers

Knock Knock! Knock Knock! Knock Knock! - wheels knock, and the train quickly rushes forward and forward.

I hear in this monotonous noise the same words repeated dozens, hundreds, thousands of times. I listen sensitively, and it seems to me that the wheels are tapping the same thing, without counting, without end: like this, like that! like this, like this! like this, like this!

The wheels are knocking, and the train rushes and rushes without looking back, like a whirlwind, like an arrow ...

In the window, bushes, trees, station houses and telegraph poles, set up along the slope of the railway bed, run towards us ...

Or is it our train running, and they are quietly standing in one place? I don't know, I don't understand.

However, I do not understand much that has happened to me in these last days.

Lord, how strange everything is in the world! Could I have thought a few weeks ago that I would have to leave our small, cozy house on the banks of the Volga and travel alone for thousands of miles to some distant, completely unknown relatives? .. Yes, it still seems to me that this is only a dream, but - alas! - it's not a dream!..

This conductor's name was Nikifor Matveyevich. He took care of me all the way, gave me tea, made a bed for me on a bench, and whenever he had time he entertained me in every possible way. It turns out that he had a daughter of my age, whose name was Nyura, and who lived with her mother and brother Seryozha in St. Petersburg. He even put his address in my pocket - "just in case" if I wanted to visit him and get to know Nyurochka.

I am very sorry for you, young lady, Nikifor Matveyevich told me more than once during my short journey, because you are an orphan, and God commands you to love orphans. And again, you are alone, as there is one in the world; You don’t know your St. Petersburg uncle, nor his family… It’s not easy, after all… But only, if it becomes very unbearable, you come to us. You will rarely find me at home, because I am more and more on the road, and my wife and Nyurka will be glad to see you. They are good for me...

I thanked the gentle conductor and promised him to visit him ...

Indeed, a terrible turmoil arose in the carriage. Passengers and passengers fussed and jostled, packing and tying things. Some old woman, who was driving opposite me all the way, lost her purse with money and screamed that she had been robbed. Someone's baby was crying in the corner. An organ-grinder stood by the door, playing a dreary song on his broken instrument.

I looked out the window. God! How many pipes have I seen! Pipes, pipes and pipes! A whole forest of pipes! Gray smoke curled from each and, rising up, blurred in the sky. A fine autumn rain was drizzling, and all nature seemed to frown, cry and complain about something.

The train went slower. The wheels were no longer shouting their restless "so-so!". They thumped much more slowly now, and it was as if they were also complaining that the machine was forcibly delaying their brisk, cheerful progress.

And then the train stopped.

Please, come, - said Nikifor Matveyevich.

And, taking my warm handkerchief, pillow and suitcase in one hand, and firmly squeezing my hand with the other, he led me out of the car, squeezing his way through the crowd with difficulty.

The story of the fate of an orphan girl who ended up in a family of wealthy relatives and managed to win the favor of others with her kindness and sincerity .

To a strange city, to strangers

Knock Knock! Knock Knock! Knock Knock! - wheels knock, and the train quickly rushes forward and forward.

I hear in this monotonous noise the same words repeated dozens, hundreds, thousands of times. I listen sensitively, and it seems to me that the wheels are tapping out the same thing, without counting, without end: like this, like that! like this, like this! like this, like this!

The wheels are knocking, and the train rushes and rushes without looking back, like a whirlwind, like an arrow ...

In the window, bushes, trees, station houses and telegraph poles, set up along the slope of the railroad track, run towards us ...

Or is it our train running, and they are quietly standing in one place? I don't know, I don't understand.

However, I do not understand much that has happened to me in these last days.

Lord, how strange everything is in the world! Could I have thought a few weeks ago that I would have to leave our little cozy house on the banks of the Volga and travel alone for thousands of miles to some distant, completely unknown relatives? .. Yes, it still seems to me that this is only dream, but alas! - it's not a dream!..

This conductor's name was Nikifor Matveyevich. He took care of me all the way, gave me tea, made a bed for me on a bench, and whenever he had time he entertained me in every possible way. It turns out that he had a daughter of my age, whose name was Nyura, and who lived with her mother and brother Seryozha in St. Petersburg. He even put his address in my pocket - "just in case" if I wanted to visit him and get to know Nyurochka.

I am very sorry for you, young lady, Nikifor Matveyevich told me more than once during my short journey, because you are an orphan, and God commands you to love orphans. And again, you are alone, as there is one in the world; You don't know your St. Petersburg uncle, nor his family... It's not easy, after all... But only if it becomes very unbearable, you come to us. You will rarely find me at home, because I am more and more on the road, and my wife and Nyurka will be glad to see you. They are good for me...

I thanked the gentle conductor and promised him to visit him...

Indeed, a terrible turmoil arose in the carriage. Passengers and passengers fussed and jostled, packing and tying things. Some old woman, who was driving opposite me all the way, lost her purse with money and screamed that she had been robbed. Someone's baby was crying in the corner. An organ grinder stood at the door and played a dreary song on his broken instrument.

I looked out the window. God! How many pipes I saw! Pipes, pipes and pipes! A whole forest of pipes! Gray smoke curled from each chimney and, rising up, blurred into the sky. A fine autumn rain was drizzling, and all nature seemed to frown, cry and complain about something.

The train went slower. The wheels were no longer shouting their restless “so-so!”. They thumped much longer now, and also complained, as it were, that the machine was forcibly delaying their brisk, merry progress. And then the train stopped.

Please, come, - said Nikifor Matveyevich.

And, taking my warm handkerchief, pillow and suitcase in one hand, and firmly squeezing my hand with the other, he led me out of the car, squeezing through the crowd with difficulty.

Iconin family. First hardships

Matilda Frantsevna brought a girl!

Your cousin, not just a girl.

And yours too!

You're lying! I don't want no cousin! She is a beggar.

And I do not want to!

They're calling! Are you deaf, Fedor?

Brought! Brought! Hooray!

I heard all this as I stood in front of a dark green oilcloth upholstered door. On a copper plate nailed to the door was inscribed in large beautiful letters:

ACTIVE STATE ADVISOR

MIKHAIL VASILIEVICH IKONIN

Hurried footsteps were heard outside the door, and a footman in a black tailcoat and white tie, such as I saw only in pictures, opened the door wide.

As soon as I stepped over its threshold, someone quickly grabbed my hand, someone touched my shoulders, someone covered my eyes with his hand, while my ears were filled with noise, ringing and laughter, from which I immediately head is spinning.

When I woke up a little and my eyes could look again, I saw that I was standing in the middle of a luxuriously decorated living room with fluffy carpets on the floor, with elegant gilded furniture, with huge mirrors, from ceiling to floor. I have never seen such luxury, and therefore it is not surprising if all this seemed to me a dream.

Three children crowded around me: one girl and two boys. The girl was my age. Blonde, delicate, with long curly locks tied with pink bows at the temples, with a capriciously upturned upper lip, she seemed like a pretty porcelain doll. She was wearing a very elegant white dress with a lace frill and a pink sash. One of the boys, the one who was much older, dressed in a uniform gymnasium uniform, looked very much like his sister; the other, small, curly, seemed no older than six. His thin, lively, but pale face seemed sickly in appearance, but a pair of brown and quick little eyes glared at me with the liveliest curiosity.

These were the children of my uncle - Zhorzhik, Nina and Tolya, about whom the late mother told me more than once.

The children looked at me silently. I am for children.

There was silence for five minutes.

And suddenly the younger boy, who must have been tired of standing like that, unexpectedly raised his hand and, pointing his index finger at me, said:

That's the figure!

Figure! Figure! - the blond girl echoed him. - And the truth: fi-gu-ra! Just rightly said!

And she jumped in one place, clapping her hands.

Very witty, - the schoolboy said through his nose, - there is something to laugh at. She's just kind of a jerk!

How is the wood lice? Why woodlice? - so the younger children were stirred up.

Come on, don't you see how she wet the floor. In galoshes, she stumbled into the living room. Witty, nothing to say! Vaughn inherited how! Puddle. Mokritsa is.

And what is this - wood lice? Tolya inquired, looking at his older brother with obvious respect.

Mm... mm... mm... - the schoolboy was confused, - mm... This is such a flower: when you touch it with your finger, it will close right away... Here...

No, you are mistaken, - I escaped against my will. (My late mother read to me both about plants and animals, and I knew a lot for my age.) - A flower that closes its petals when touched is a mimosa, and a wood lice is a water animal, like a snail.

Mmm ... - the high school student mumbled. Does it matter if it's a flower or an animal? We haven't done this in class yet. And why are you fussing with your nose when you are not asked? Look what a smart girl turned up! He suddenly turned on me.

Terrible outburst! - the girl echoed him and screwed up her blue eyes. "You'd better look after yourself than correct Georges," she drawled capriciously. “George is smarter than you, but you got into the living room in galoshes. Very beautiful!

Witty! - the high school student gritted again.

And you're still a bitch! his brother squeaked and giggled. - Mokritsa and the beggar!

I flared up. Nobody has ever called me that. The nickname of the beggar offended me more than anything else. I saw beggars at the porch of churches and more than once gave them money on the orders of my mother. They asked "for the sake of Christ" and stretched out their hand for alms. I did not stretch out my hands for alms and did not ask anyone for anything. So he doesn't dare to call me that. Anger, bitterness, anger - all this boiled up in me at once, and not remembering myself, I grabbed my offender by the shoulders and began to shake him with all my might, choking with excitement and anger.

Don't you dare say that! I am not a beggar! Don't you dare call me a beggar! Do not dare! Do not dare!

- No, beggar! No, beggar! You will live with us out of mercy. Your mother died and left you no money. And both of you are beggars, yes! - the boy repeated like a learned lesson. And, not knowing how else to annoy me, he stuck out his tongue and began to make the most impossible grimaces in front of my face. His brother and sister laughed heartily at the scene.

I have never been a snarky one, but when Tolya offended my mother, I could not bear it. A terrible impulse of anger seized me, and with a loud cry, without thinking and not remembering what I was doing, I pushed my cousin with all my might.

He staggered violently, first to one side, then to the other, and in order to keep his balance, he grabbed the table on which the vase stood. She was very beautiful, all painted with flowers, storks and some funny black-haired girls in colored long robes, in high hairstyles and with open fans at her chest.

The table swayed no less than Tolya. A vase of flowers and little black girls also swayed with him. Then the vase slid to the floor... There was a deafening crack.

And little black girls, and flowers, and storks - everything mixed up and disappeared in one common pile of shards and fragments.

Filka is gone. They want to punish me

The huge hanging chandelier in the dining-room was lit again, and candles were placed at either end of the long table. Fyodor appeared inaudibly again with a napkin in his hands and announced that food was served. It was on the fifth day of my stay at my uncle's house. Aunt Nelly, very smart and very beautiful, entered the dining room and took her place. Uncle was not at home: he was supposed to arrive very late today. We all gathered in the dining room, only Georges was not there.

Where is Georges? asked my aunt, turning to Matilda Frantsevna. She didn't know anything.

And suddenly, at that very moment, Georges burst into the room like a hurricane and, with loud cries, threw himself on his mother's chest.

He roared throughout the house, sobbing and wailing. His whole body shook with sobs. Georges knew only how to tease his sisters and brother and "wit it," as Ninochka said, and therefore it was terribly strange to see him in tears himself.

What? What? What happened to Georges? they all asked with one voice.

But he could not calm down for a long time.

Aunt Nelly, who had never caressed either him or Tolya, saying that caresses do not benefit boys, and that they should be held strictly, this time gently hugged him by the shoulders and pulled him to her.

What's wrong with you? Speak, George! - she asked her son in the most affectionate voice.

The sobbing continued for several minutes. Finally, Georges spoke with great difficulty in a voice broken by sobs:

Filka is gone... mother... Filka...

How? What? What?

All at once gasped and fussed. Filka was none other than the owl that frightened me on the first night of my stay at my uncle's house.

Filka is gone? How? How?

But George didn't know. And we knew no more than him. Filka always lived, from the day he appeared (that is, from the day his uncle brought him one day, returning from a suburban hunt), in a large pantry, where they entered very rarely, at certain hours, and where Georges himself appeared accurately twice a day to feed Filka with raw meat and train him in freedom. He spent long hours visiting Filka, whom he loved, it seems, much more than his own sisters and brother. At least, Ninochka assured everyone of this.

And suddenly - Filka disappeared!

Immediately after dinner, everyone set about looking for Filka. Only Julie and I were sent to the nursery to teach lessons.

As soon as we were alone, Julie said:

And I know where Filka is!

I looked up at her, puzzled.

I know where Filka is! repeated the hunchback. - This is good ... - she suddenly spoke, panting, which was always with her when she was worried, - this is very good. Georges did something nasty to me, and Filka disappeared from him ... Very, very good!

And she giggled triumphantly, rubbing her hands.

Then I immediately remembered one scene - and I understood everything.

On the day that Julie received an A for the Law of God, my uncle was in a very bad mood. He received some unpleasant letter and walked around pale and dissatisfied all evening. Julie, fearing that she would get more than in another case, asked Matilda Frantsevna not to talk about her unit that day, and she promised. But Georges could not stand it and accidentally or deliberately announced publicly over evening tea:

And Julie received a stake from the Law of God!

Julie is punished. And that same evening, going to bed, Julie shook her fists at someone, already lying in bed (I accidentally went into their room at that moment), and said:

Well, I'll remember him for that. He will dance with me! ..

And she remembered - on Filka. Filka disappeared. But how? How and where could a little twelve-year-old girl hide a bird - I could not guess this.

Julie! Why did you do it? I asked when we returned to the classroom after lunch.

What did she do? - so the hunchback started up.

Where are you doing Filka?

Filka? I? Am I doing? she cried, all pale and agitated. - Yes, you're crazy! I haven't seen Filka. Get out, please.

And why are you ... - I started and did not finish. The door opened wide, and Matilda Frantsevna, red as a peony, flew into the room.

Very well! Fabulous! Thief! Concealer! Criminal! - threateningly shaking her hands in the air, she shouted.

And before I could even say a word, she grabbed me by the shoulders and dragged me somewhere.

Familiar corridors flashed before me, cupboards, chests and baskets that stood there along the walls. Here is the pantry. The door is wide open into the hallway. Aunt Nelli, Ninochka, Georges, Tolya are standing there.

Here! I brought the culprit! cried Matilda Frantsevna triumphantly and pushed me into a corner.

Then I saw a small chest and in it a dead Filka lying at the bottom. The owl lay with its wings spread wide and its beak buried in the board of the chest. She must have suffocated in it from lack of air, because her beak was wide open, and her round eyes almost popped out of their sockets.

I looked at Aunt Nelly in surprise.

What it is? I asked.

And she still asks! - Shouted, or rather squealed, Bavaria. - And she still dares to ask - she, an incorrigible pretender! she shouted to the whole house, waving her arms like a windmill with its wings.

I'm not to blame for anything! Trust me! I said softly.

Not guilty! said Aunt Nellie, narrowing her cold eyes at me. - Georges, who do you think put the owl in the box? she turned to her eldest son.

Of course Mokritsa, - he said with a confident voice. - Filka scared her then at night. And here she is in revenge for this ... Very witty ... - And he whimpered again.

Mokritsa of course! Ninochka confirmed his words.

I was definitely overwhelmed. I stood there, not understanding anything. I was accused - and of what? Which was not my fault at all.

Only Tolya was silent. His eyes were wide open, and his face was as white as chalk. He held on to his mother's dress and stared at me.

I looked again at Aunt Nellie and did not recognize her face. Always calm and beautiful, it somehow twitched at the time when she spoke:

You are right, Matilda Frantsevna. The girl is incorrigible. We must try to punish her sensitively. Organize, please. Let's go, children, - she said, turning to Nina, Georges and Tolya.

And, taking the younger ones by the hands, she led them out of the pantry.

Julie looked into the pantry for a moment. She already had a completely pale, agitated face, and her lips were trembling exactly like Tolya's.

I looked at her with pleading eyes.

Julie! burst out of my chest. - Because you know it's not my fault. Say it.

But Julie said nothing, turned on one leg and disappeared through the door.

At that very moment Matilda Frantsevna leaned out the door and shouted:

Dunyasha! Rozog!

I got cold. Sticky sweat broke out on my forehead. Something rolled up to his chest and squeezed his throat.

Me? carve? Me - my mother's Lenochka, who was always such a smart girl in Rybinsk, whom everyone did not praise? .. And for what? For what?

Without remembering myself, I threw myself on my knees in front of Matilda Frantsevna and, sobbing, covered her hands with bony hooked fingers with kisses.

Don't punish me! Don't hit! I screamed furiously. - For God's sake, don't hit! Mommy never punished me. Please. I beg you! For God's sake!

But Matilda Frantsevna did not want to hear anything. At the same moment, Dunyasha's hand slipped through the door with some kind of disgusting tuft. Dunyasha's face was all flooded with tears. Obviously, the kind girl felt sorry for me.

Ah, great! - hissed Matilda Frantsevna and almost tore the rod out of the hands of the maid. Then she jumped up to me, grabbed me by the shoulders and with all her strength threw me onto one of the chests that were in the pantry.

My head began to spin more. My mouth felt bitter and somehow cold at the same time. And suddenly...

Don't you dare touch Lena! Don't you dare! a trembling voice rang out over my head.

I quickly jumped to my feet. It was like something lifted me up. Tolya stood in front of me. Big tears rolled down his baby face. The collar of the jacket has slid to the side. He gasped. It can be seen that the boy hurried here headlong.

Mademoiselle, don't you dare flog Lena! he shouted beside himself. - Lena is an orphan, her mother died ... It's a sin to offend orphans! You better whip me. Lena did not touch Filka! It's true, I didn't touch it! Well, do what you want with me, but leave Lena!

He was shaking all over, trembling all over, his whole thin body was shaking under the velvet suit, and more and more streams of tears were flowing from blue eyes.

Tolya! Shut up now! Listen, stop crying this very minute! the governess shouted at him.

And you will not touch Lena? - sobbing, whispered the boy.

None of your business! Go to the nursery! Bavaria shouted again and waved a disgusting bunch of rods over me.

But then something happened that neither I, nor she, nor Tolya himself expected: the boy's eyes rolled back, the tears stopped at once, and Tolya, staggering heavily, collapsed with all his might in a faint on the floor.

There was a cry, noise, running, stomping.

The governess rushed to the boy, picked him up in her arms and carried him somewhere. I was left alone, not understanding anything, not thinking about anything in the first minute. I was very grateful to the dear boy for saving me from a shameful punishment, and at the same time I was ready to be flogged by the nasty Bavaria, if only Tolya remained healthy.

Thinking in this way, I sat down on the edge of the chest that stood in the pantry, and I myself do not know how, but immediately fell asleep, exhausted by the unrest I had endured.

Little friend and liverwurst

Shh! Are you awake, Lenochka?

What? I open my eyes in confusion. Where I am? What's wrong with me?

Moonlight pours into the pantry through a small window, and in this light I see a small figure that quietly creeps towards me.

The small figurine is wearing a long white shirt, in which angels are painted, and the face of the figurine is the real face of an angel, white, white, like sugar. But what the figurine brought with it and held out to me with its tiny paw, no angel will ever bring. This something is nothing more than a huge piece of thick liverwurst.

Eat, Lenochka! - I hear a quiet whisper, in which I recognize the voice of my recent defender Tolya. - Eat, please. You haven't eaten anything since lunch. I waited until they all settled down, and Bavaria also, went to the dining room and brought sausage from the buffet.

But you were in a swoon, Tolechka! - I was surprised. - How did they let you in here?

Nobody thought to let me in. Here is a funny girl! I went myself. Bavaria fell asleep, sitting by my bed, and I came to you... Don't think... After all, this often happens to me. Suddenly, your head will spin, and - boom! I love it when it happens to me. Then Bavaria gets scared, runs and cries. I love it when she gets frightened and cries, because then she is hurt and scared. I hate her, Bavaria, yes! And you ... you ... - Then the whisper broke off at once, and in an instant two small cold arms wrapped around my neck, and Tolya, softly sobbing and clinging to me, whispered in my ear: - Lenochka! Cute! Kind! Good! Forgive me, for God's sake...

I was an evil, bad boy. I teased you. Do you remember? Ah, Lenochka! And now, when the mummy wanted to rip you out, I immediately realized that you are good and not to blame for anything. And I felt so sorry for you, poor orphan! - Then Tolya hugged me even tighter and burst into sobs.

I gently wrapped my arm around his blond head, put him on my knees, pressed him to my chest. Something good, bright, joyful filled my soul. Suddenly everything became so easy and gratifying in her. It seemed to me that Mom herself was sending me my new little friend. I so wanted to get close to one of the Ikonins' children, but in return I received only ridicule and scolding from them. I would gladly forgive Julie everything and make friends with her, but she pushed me away, and this sickly little boy himself wanted to caress me. Dear, dear Tolya! Thank you for your kindness! How I will love you, my dear, dear!

And the blond boy said meanwhile:

Forgive me, Lenochka... everything, everything... I am sick and fit, but still kinder than all of them, yes, yes! Eat sausage, Lenochka, you're hungry. Be sure to eat, otherwise I will think that you are still angry with me!

Yes, yes, I will eat, dear, dear Tolya!

And right there, in order to please him, I divided the fat, juicy liver sausage in half, gave one half to Tolya, and took up the other myself.

I have never eaten anything better in my life!

When the sausage was eaten, my little friend held out his hand to me and said, looking timidly at me with his clear eyes:

So remember, Lenochka: Tolya is now your friend!

I firmly shook this liver-stained hand and at once advised him to go to bed.

Go, Tolya, - I persuaded the boy, - otherwise Bavaria will appear ...

And dare not do anything. Here! he interrupted me. “After all, papa once and for all forbade her to disturb me, otherwise I faint from excitement ... So she didn’t dare.” But I still go to sleep, and you go too.

Having kissed me, Tolya slapped his bare little legs towards the door. But at the threshold he stopped. A sly smile flickered across his face.

Goodnight! - he said. - Go to sleep too. Bavaria has long since fallen asleep. However, it is not Bavaria at all, - he added slyly.

I found out. She says she is from Bavaria. And this is not true. She is from Revel. Revel sprat. That's who she is, our mother! Sprat, but he puts on airs ... ha-ha-ha!

And, completely forgetting that Matilda Frantsevna might wake up, and with her everyone in the house, Tolya ran out of the pantry with a loud laugh.

I also followed him to my room.

Liver sausage, eaten at an odd hour and without bread, left an unpleasant taste of fat in my mouth, but my soul was light and joyful. For the first time since my mother's death, my soul felt cheerful: I found a friend in a cold uncle's family.

1908

Lydia Charskaya

Lydia Charskaya

NOTES OF A LITTLE GIRL STUDENT

1. To a strange city, to strangers

Knock Knock! Knock Knock! Knock Knock! - wheels knock, and the train quickly rushes forward and forward.

I hear in this monotonous noise the same words repeated dozens, hundreds, thousands of times. I listen sensitively, and it seems to me that the wheels are tapping the same thing, without counting, without end: like this, like that! like this, like this! like this, like this!

The wheels rattle, and the train rushes and rushes without looking back, like a whirlwind, like an arrow...

In the window, bushes, trees, station houses and telegraph poles, set up along the slope of the railroad track, run towards us ...

Or is it our train running, and they are quietly standing in one place? I don't know, I don't understand.

However, I do not understand much that has happened to me in these last days.

Lord, how strange everything is in the world! Could I have thought a few weeks ago that I would have to leave our small, cozy house on the banks of the Volga and travel alone for thousands of miles to some distant, completely unknown relatives? .. Yes, it still seems to me that this is only a dream, but - alas! - it's not a dream!..

This conductor's name was Nikifor Matveyevich. He took care of me all the way, gave me tea, made a bed for me on a bench, and whenever he had time he entertained me in every possible way. It turns out that he had a daughter of my age, whose name was Nyura, and who lived with her mother and brother Seryozha in St. Petersburg. He even put his address in my pocket - "just in case" if I wanted to visit him and get to know Nyurochka.

I am very sorry for you, young lady, Nikifor Matveyevich told me more than once during my short journey, because you are an orphan, and God commands you to love orphans. And again, you are alone, as there is one in the world; You don't know your St. Petersburg uncle, nor his family... It's not easy, after all... But only, if it becomes very unbearable, you come to us. You will rarely find me at home, because I am more and more on the road, and my wife and Nyurka will be glad to see you. They are good for me...

I thanked the gentle conductor and promised him to visit him...

Indeed, a terrible turmoil arose in the carriage. Passengers and passengers fussed and jostled, packing and tying things. Some old woman, who was driving opposite me all the way, lost her purse with money and screamed that she had been robbed. Someone's baby was crying in the corner. An organ-grinder stood by the door, playing a dreary song on his broken instrument.

I looked out the window. God! How many pipes have I seen! Pipes, pipes and pipes! A whole forest of pipes! Gray smoke curled from each and, rising up, blurred in the sky. A fine autumn rain was drizzling, and all nature seemed to frown, cry and complain about something.

The train went slower. The wheels no longer shouted their restless "so-so!". They thumped much more slowly now, and it was as if they were also complaining that the machine was forcibly delaying their brisk, cheerful progress.

And then the train stopped.

Please, come, - said Nikifor Matveyevich.

And, taking my warm handkerchief, pillow and suitcase in one hand, and firmly squeezing my hand with the other, he led me out of the car, squeezing his way through the crowd with difficulty.

2. My mommy

I had a mother, affectionate, kind, sweet. We lived with my mother in a small house on the banks of the Volga. The house was so clean and bright, and from the windows of our apartment one could see the wide, beautiful Volga, and huge two-story steamships, and barges, and a pier on the shore, and crowds of strollers who went out at certain hours to this pier to meet the incoming steamers ... And my mother and I went there, only rarely, very rarely: mother gave lessons in our city, and she was not allowed to walk with me as often as I would like. Mommy said:

Wait, Lenusha, I'll save up some money and take you up the Volga from our Rybinsk all the way to Astrakhan! That's when we'll have fun.

I rejoiced and waited for spring.

By the spring, mommy saved up a little money, and we decided to fulfill our idea with the very first warm days.

As soon as the Volga is cleared of ice, we will ride with you! Mom said, gently stroking my head.

But when the ice broke, she caught a cold and began to cough. The ice passed, the Volga cleared up, and Mom kept coughing and coughing endlessly. She suddenly became thin and transparent, like wax, and kept sitting by the window, looking at the Volga and repeating:

Here the cough will pass, I will recover a little, and we will ride with you to Astrakhan, Lenusha!

But the cough and cold did not go away; the summer was damp and cold this year, and every day mommy became thinner, paler and more transparent.

Autumn has come. September has arrived. Long lines of cranes stretched over the Volga, flying to warm countries. Mommy no longer sat at the window in the living room, but lay on the bed and shivered all the time from the cold, while she herself was hot as fire.

Once she called me to her and said:

Listen, Lenusha. Your mother will soon leave you forever... But don't worry, dear. I will always look at you from the sky and rejoice in the good deeds of my girl, but ...

I did not let her finish and wept bitterly. And Mommy also cried, and her eyes became sad, sad, exactly the same as those of the angel whom I saw on the big image in our church.

After calming down a little, Mom spoke again:

I feel that the Lord will soon take me to Himself, and may His holy will be done! Be smart without a mother, pray to God and remember me... You will go to live with your uncle, my brother, who lives in St. Petersburg... I wrote to him about you and asked him to take in an orphan...

Something painfully painful at the word "orphan" squeezed my throat ...

I sobbed and wept and huddled around my mother's bed. Maryushka (a cook who had lived with us for nine whole years, from the very year of my birth, and who loved mother and me without memory) came and took me to her, saying that "mother needs rest."

I fell asleep all in tears that night on Maryushka's bed, and in the morning ... Oh, what a morning! ..

I woke up very early, it seems at six o'clock, and I wanted to run straight to my mother.