Sparrow Tales. "Smart Sparrow" - an interesting fairy tale for children

The neighbors were bored without a sparrow. The rooster came
- Knock-Knock! Is the sparrow at home, godfather?
“At home, he is ill,” the sparrow says.
- What hurts him?
- Neck.
- You should fly to the threshing floor, take oat grain, brew a grain - steam its neck.

- Soared, kumanyok, soared. His steam does not take, only pain gives.
A screaming crow has flown:
- Is the sparrow at home, godfather?
- At home, he is ill.
- What hurts him?
- Sore back.

- Go, godfather, to the garden, wormwood grows there. You pick a wormwood - steam his back.
- Soared, godfather, soared. Yes, and steam is not for the future, he also got sick on his side.

The hen-partridge came:
- Is the sparrow at home, godfather?
- At home, he is ill.
- What hurts him?
- Heels.

- Go, godfather, to the garden, mint grows there. You brew mints - steam his heels.
- Soared, godfather, soared. His steam does not take, only pain gives.

Tired of the sparrow being angry, tired of the sparrow soaring - the sparrow climbed onto the roof, sat down all higher, and shouted:
- I'm alive, I'm alive! Chiv-chiv! I am pleased with everything. The sparrow is healthy, not sick!

Lullaby tale about a sparrow:

My young friends - I know a lot of fairy tales.
To begin with, today I will tell you about the sparrow.
Without frightening the pigeons, a sparrow jumped in a puddle.
I cleaned the tail, washed the neck and dried it in the sun.
A cat was walking along the crooked path.
The cat saw a bird - a mischievous little one,
She began to crawl quietly to catch her by the tail.
Even the pigeons took off - they didn't want to fight with the cat.
But I did not allow the cat to offend the sparrow.
Shout, - I shouted to this cat, - go your own way.
Sparrow heard a cry, chirped chirp-chirp,
He didn't look at me and flew to the roof.
He hid behind a pipe and admires himself.
Well, at this time the cat crawls out of the window,
She crawls to the sparrow, quietly opens her mouth,
He wants to grab the poor and drag the kittens.
Suddenly a crow flew in and sat on the roof nearby
She hit the roof with her beak - the sparrow heard her,
He jumped to the ledge and flew down from there.
Sparrow washed in a puddle, flew home for dinner,
I ate a delicious cutlet, drank warm tea with candy,
The beak cleaned and yawned, sat on a branch and fell asleep.
He will sleep until morning. It's time for the kids to sleep too.

Lullaby about a sparrow:

Outside the window is a gray cat.
Near the house somewhere wanders.
It goes, it comes
Lullaby sings.
It goes, it comes
About the sparrow sings.
*
The cat is sleeping on the floor.
Pigeons are sleeping on the roof
and in the big basement of the mouse
They sleep quietly in their corner.
And in the big basement of the mouse
They sleep quietly in their corner.
*
Here comes the evening.
The crow sleeps near the grid.
Sparrow fell asleep on a branch
Because he is tired.
Sparrow fell asleep on a branch
Because he is tired.
*
I have to get up early tomorrow.
Say goodbye to Banilaska.
Children close their eyes
Roma will also sleep.
Children close their eyes
And Ilyusha will sleep.
Children close their eyes
And Svetlana will sleep.
Children close their eyes
Ksyusha will also sleep.
Children close their eyes
....... will sleep.

Municipal state educational institution

"Zhuravlikha secondary school"

Regional Correspondence Competition of Creative Works in Literature

"Inspiration"

Nomination: "Prose"

Journey of the Bold Sparrow

Completed by: Martynova Anastasia Evgenievna,

Born April 19, 2002, 5th grade student

MKOU "Zhuravlikha secondary school",

S. Zhuravlikha, st. Central, 113-A

Tel.: 91-4-40

Head: Martynova Tamara Fedorovna,

Teacher of Russian language and literature

MKOU "Zhuravlikha secondary school",

Tel.: 91-3-71

Journey of the Bold Sparrow

One sunny spring day, Sparrow was born. He was so small, defenseless, but his childish voice seemed strong, insistent. Every day he dreamed of taking off, traveling, but he was still quite small. The mother sparrow always told him not to look out of his nest, to sit there quietly and not attract attention with his loud chirping.

Look, otherwise you will fall down, then the cat will eat you! mother said to her son.

Sparrow was obedient and moved away from the edge.

The warm summer has come. Every morning the sun gently peeked out from behind the forest, slowly rose above its peaks, and then its warm rays spread across the sky like a golden sea. Cheerfully, like a magician, the Sun played with its rays: they looked into the windows of houses, made their way calmly and persistently into various corners. And then the mischievous magical rays reached the small nest in which Sparrow lived. It seemed that the rays were calling with them. And Sparrow had already grown up, got stronger, and now he could fly independently wherever he wanted, though not far and not very high. Every day he jumped out of the nest, perched on a branch, greeted Sunshine and teased the cat with his restless chirping.

But then one day Sparrow jumped out of the nest and did not notice the danger: the cat rushed at the little Sparrow, wanted to catch him with his paw, but Sparrow managed to jump back, fell off the branch, and the cat followed him. Sparrow managed to fly a little above the ground, it seemed to him that he did not have the strength to fly from fear, but still he flew as fast as he could. And the cat did not lag behind and drove Sparrow to the forest. Finally the cat was tired, meowed offendedly and turned back home.

And Sparrow flew, flew far, far away. He was very tired, finally, he sat down on a branch of a tall tree and began to think where he was, where now to look for his home. Suddenly he heard a knock and decided to fly to where the sound came from. There he met an unusual bird, got to know her. It turns out it was the Woodpecker. Sparrow told about his trouble. He asked the Woodpecker how to find his home now, and the forest dweller advised the unintelligent Sparrow:

Fly forward, you will see a large birch in the clearing, on it you will find an old sparrow. He will tell you how to find your way home.

Sparrow thanked the Woodpecker and flew on. Now he was very interested in looking at everything around him.

Sparrow quickly flew to a large birch, sat on a branch to rest.

The old sparrow was sleeping. Little Sparrow began to chirp loudly.

Sparrow could not help but wake up from such a noise, grumbled for a long time, and then realized that the little traveler needed help.

Fly forward, towards the sun, but hurry! Soon the Sun will hide behind the trees, and it gets dark very quickly in the forest. Before sunset, you need to fly out of the forest! Hurry!

The brave traveler very quickly flew forward towards the Sun. And it seemed to be calling him. He flew for a long time, he was tired, but he had to hurry, it was getting dark. Finally, he flew out of the forest and saw a familiar tree. He was very happy that he was able to get to his house on his own. He looked after the disappearing rays of the Sun, loudly tweeted thanks. And mother sparrow was very, very worried.

Sparrow told his mother about his extraordinary journey. Mom affectionately stroked him with her wing and said:

What a brave traveler you are, well done!

And Sparrow felt so calm near his kind mother. He slowly fell asleep under her kind words, and the magic Sun flashed before him, and the kind forest Woodpecker, and the wise old sparrow, and ...

This is how the extraordinary day of the little Sparrow passed.

Indian fairy tale

Once upon a time there lived a sparrow with a sparrow, and there lived a king. They built a sparrow and a sparrow's nest in the royal palace. The king lived in the chambers, and the sparrow with the sparrow lived in his nest.
Once the tsar dressed up in a new dress - he decided to go to visit. Just got to the door, and take the sparrow and drop a drop. A white drop fell directly on the king and soiled his new dress. He got angry. He called the servant and said:
“Now catch a sparrow and a sparrow and put them in a cage.
The servant caught the sparrow, and the sparrow flew up and was like that.
A sparrow flew to the carpenter, asking:
- Carpenter, carpenter! Make me a cart with eight wheels. The king put my sparrow in a cage. I will go to war with him.
The carpenter made a small cart with eight wheels. Sparrow harnessed a mouse to her and went to fight with the king. He rides, rides, sees - a needle lies on the road.
- Brother Sparrow! Sparrow brother! Where are you going? asks the needle.
Sparrow answers:
I am a sparrow, I am a sparrow

I'm going to fight with the king -
He caught my sparrow.

- Let's go.
A sharp-nosed needle climbed onto the cart. Sparrow shakes the reins, drives the mouse. The mouse is running, trying its best. The cart rolls fast.
They go, they go, and a scorpion meets them.

- Brother Sparrow! Sparrow brother! Where are you going? he asks.
And the sparrow to him:
I am a sparrow, I am a sparrow
You see, the mouse is harnessed to the cart:
I'm going to fight with the king -
He caught my sparrow.
- And I'm with you, brother sparrow.
- Let's go.
The scorpion raised its tail with a poisonous sting and climbed into the cart with the sparrow. A sparrow is chasing a mouse. The mouse is running fast.
They go, they go, they look - there is a rope and a stick.
- Brother Sparrow! Sparrow brother! Where are you going? - ask the rope and stick.
And the sparrow answered them:
I am a sparrow, I am a sparrow
You see, the mouse is harnessed to the cart:
I'm going to fight with the king -
He caught my sparrow.
- And we are with you, brother sparrow.
- Let's go.
So a whole army gathered at the sparrow along the road. They rode and rode and drove up to the royal palace when it became completely dark. The sparrow stopped the cart behind the palace. The king was not at home. Sparrow and his friends quietly crept into the king's room. The needle hid in his bed. The scorpion climbed onto the table where the candle stood. Rope and stick crouched by the door. The sparrow himself climbed under the ledge. And the mouse remained to guard the cart.

The king soon returned. Washed up and sat down to eat. He does not even know what army climbed into his palace.

The king went to bed. And the needle has been waiting for him for a long time. He lay down in bed - she would begin to prick his back. The king shouted and jumped up. He wants to light a candle - to see what it is prickly in bed.

And a scorpion was sitting by the candle. As soon as the king extended his hand, the scorpion stung him.

The king cried out in fear:
- Fathers! I'm dying! A scorpion stung me! The king rushed out of the room. And they were waiting for him at the door
rope and stick. The rope entangled the king, and the stick began to beat him. The king shouts with all his might:
— Help! Help! Help anyone! Sparrow watched from above, looked at everything that was going on, but how
the king asked for help, flew to him, stopped the stick and said:

- Tsar! I am a sparrow. My army is with me. Say, will you let my sparrow go? Or have you got enough?

The king prayed, began to ask the sparrow for forgiveness. The rope released the king, and he released the sparrow.

Tolstoy L.N.

Young sparrows jumped on the path in the garden.

And the old sparrow perched high on a tree branch and vigilantly looks to see if a bird of prey appears somewhere.

A robber hawk flies through the backyards. He is a fierce enemy of a small bird. The hawk flies quietly, without noise.

But the old sparrow noticed the villain and is following him.

The hawk is getting closer and closer.

The sparrow chirped loudly and anxiously, and all the sparrows at once disappeared into the bushes.

Everything was silent.

Only the sentinel sparrow sits on a branch. He does not move, he does not take his eyes off the hawk.

The hawk of an old sparrow noticed, flapped its wings, spread its claws and went down like an arrow.

And the sparrow fell like a stone into the bushes.

The hawk was left with nothing.

He looks around. Evil took the predator. His yellow eyes are on fire.

Sparrows poured out of the bushes with noise, jumping along the path.

Swans

Tolstoy L.N.

Swans flew in herds from the cold side to the warm lands. They flew across the sea. They flew day and night, and another day and another night they flew over the water without rest. There was a full moon in the sky, and far below the swans saw blue water. All the swans are tired, flapping their wings; but they did not stop and flew on. Old, strong swans flew in front, those that were younger and weaker flew behind. One young swan flew behind everyone. His strength has weakened. He flapped his wings and could not fly further. Then he, spreading his wings, went down. He descended closer and closer to the water; and his comrades further and further whitened in the moonlight. The swan descended into the water and folded its wings. The sea stirred under him and rocked him.

A flock of swans was barely visible as a white line in the bright sky. And it was barely audible in the silence how their wings rang. When they were completely out of sight, the swan bent his neck back and closed his eyes. He did not move, and only the sea, rising and falling in a wide strip, raised and lowered him.

Before dawn, a light breeze began to stir the sea. And the water splashed into the white chest of the swan. The swan opened his eyes. In the east the dawn was reddening, and the moon and the stars became paler. The swan sighed, stretched out his neck and flapped his wings, rose and flew, catching his wings on the water. He climbed higher and higher and flew alone over the dark rippling waves.

Starlings (Excerpt)

Kuprin A.I.

We were impatiently waiting for old acquaintances to fly into our garden again - starlings, these cute, cheerful sociable birds, the first migratory guests, joyful heralds of spring.

So, we waited for the starlings. They fixed the old birdhouses, twisted from the winter winds, hung new ones.

The sparrows imagined that this courtesy was being done for them, and immediately, at the first warmth, the birdhouses occupied.

Finally, on the nineteenth, in the evening (it was still light), someone shouted: “Look - starlings!”

Indeed, they sat high on the branches of poplars and, after sparrows, seemed unusually large and too black ...

For two days, the starlings seemed to gain strength and hung everything and examined last year's familiar places. And then the eviction of sparrows began. At the same time, I did not notice especially violent clashes between starlings and sparrows. As a rule, the Skurtsy, two by two, sit high above the birdhouses and, apparently, carelessly chatting about something among themselves, while they themselves, with one eye, sideways, gaze intently down. The sparrow is terribly and difficult. No, no - stick his sharp cunning nose out of a round hole - and back. Finally, hunger, frivolity, and perhaps timidity make themselves felt. “I’m flying away,” he thinks, “for a minute and now back. Maybe I'll overreach. Maybe they won't notice." And as soon as he has time to fly off to a sazhen, like a starling with a stone down and already at home.

And now the end of the sparrow temporary economy has come. Starlings guard the nest in turn: one sits - the other flies on business. Sparrows will never think of such a trick.

And so, with chagrin, great battles begin between the sparrows, during which fluff and feathers fly into the air. And the starlings sit high on the trees, and even provoke: “Hey, you black-headed one! You won’t be able to overcome that yellow-breasted one forever and ever.” - "How? To me? Yes, I have it now! - "Well, well, well..."

And there will be a dump. However, in the spring all the animals and birds... fight much more...

Song of the Starling

Kuprin A.I.

The air warmed up a little, and the starlings had already perched on high branches and began their concert. I don't really know if the starling has his own motives, but you will hear enough of anything alien in his song. Here are bits of nightingale trills, and the sharp meow of the oriole, and the sweet voice of the robin, and the musical babble of the warbler, and the thin whistle of the titmouse, and among these melodies suddenly such voices are heard that, sitting alone, you cannot help yourself and laugh: a chicken will cackle on a tree , the grinder's knife will hiss, the door will creak, the children's military trumpet will turn down. And, having made this unexpected musical digression, the starling, as if nothing had happened, without a break, continues his cheerful, sweet humorous song.

lark

I. Sokolov-Mikitov

Of the many sounds of the earth: the singing of birds, the fluttering of foliage on trees, the cod of grasshoppers, the murmur of a forest stream - the most cheerful and joyful sound is the song of field and meadow larks. Even in early spring, when there is loose snow on the fields, but already in some places dark thawed patches have formed on the warming, our early spring guests arrive and begin to sing. Rising in a column into the sky, fluttering its wings, pierced through with sunlight, a lark flies higher and higher into the sky, disappears in a radiant blue. Surprisingly beautiful, ringing song of the lark, welcoming the arrival of spring. This joyful song is similar to the breath of the awakened earth.

Many great composers tried to portray this joyful song in their musical works...

Much can be heard in the awakening spring forest. Fritillaries squeak thinly, invisible owls goog at night. In the impenetrable swamp, the cranes that have arrived in the spring lead round dances. Bees are buzzing over the yellow golden down-padded coats of the blossoming willow. And in the bushes on the river bank, the first nightingale sang loudly.

Swan

Aksakov S. T.

The swan, by its size, strength, beauty and majestic posture, has long and rightly been called the king of all water, or waterfowl, birds. White as snow, with shining, transparent small eyes, with a black nose and black paws, with a long, flexible and beautiful neck, he is inexpressibly beautiful when he calmly swims between green reeds on a dark blue, smooth surface of the water.

Swan movements

Aksakov S. T.

All the movements of the swan are filled with charm: if he starts drinking and, scooping up water with his nose, raises his head up and stretches his neck; whether he will begin to swim, dive and splash with his mighty wings, scattering far splashes of water rolling down from his fluffy body; will he then begin to preen, easily and freely arching back his snow-white neck, straightening and cleaning with his nose on the back, sides and tail crumpled or soiled feathers; if he spreads the wing through the air like a long slanting sail, and also begins to sort through each feather in it with his nose, airing it and drying it in the sun - everything is picturesque and magnificent in it.

Sparrow

Charushin E.I.

Nikita went for a walk with dad. He was walking, walking and suddenly he hears someone chirping: Chilik-chilik! Chilik-chilik! Chilik-chilik!

And Nikita sees that this little sparrow is jumping along the road.

Fluffy, just like a ball is rolling. His tail is short, his beak is yellow, and he does not fly anywhere. Apparently, he still can't.

Look, dad, - Nikita shouted, - the sparrow is not real!

And dad says:

No, this is a real sparrow, but only a small one. It must have been a chick that fell out of its nest.

Then Nikita ran to catch a sparrow and caught it. And this sparrow began to live in our house in a cage, and Nikita fed him flies, worms and a bun with milk.

Here lives a sparrow with Nikita. He screams all the time - he asks for food. Well, what a glutton! A little in the morning the sun will appear - he will chirp and wake everyone up.

Then Nikita said:

I'll teach him to fly and let him out.

He took the sparrow out of the cage, put it on the floor and began to teach.

You wave your wings like this, - Nikita said and showed with his hands how to fly. And the sparrow galloped under the chest of drawers.

We fed the sparrow for another day. Again Nikita put him on the floor to teach him how to fly. Nikita waved his arms, and the sparrow waved its wings.

The sparrow has flown!

Here he flew over the pencil. I flew over a red fire truck. And as he began to fly over an inanimate toy cat, he stumbled upon it and fell.

You still fly badly, Nikita tells him. - Let me feed you for another day.

He fed, fed, and the next day the sparrows flew over Nikitin's bench. Flew over a chair. He flew over the table with the jug. But he couldn’t fly over the chest of drawers - he fell down.

It looks like you need to feed him. The next day, Nikita took the sparrow with him into the garden, and there he let it out.

The sparrow flew over the brick.

It flew over the stump.

And he began to fly over the fence, but he bumped into it and fell down.

And the next day he flew over the fence.

And flew over the tree.

And flew through the house.

And completely flew away from Nikita.

What a great way to learn to fly!

winter debts

N.I. Sladkov

Sparrow chirped on a dunghill - and jumps! And the Crow-hag croaks with its nasty voice:

What, Sparrow, rejoiced at, why chirped?

The wings itch, Crow, the nose itches, - Sparrow answers. - Passion to fight hunting! And don't croak here, don't spoil my spring mood!

And I'll ruin it! - Crow does not lag behind. - How can I ask a question?

In scared!

And I scare. Did you peck crumbs in the garbage in the winter?

Pecked.

Did you pick up grain from the barnyard?

Picked up.

Did you have lunch in the bird cafeteria near the school?

Thanks guys for feeding me.

That's it! - the Crow is tearing. - With what

Are you paying for all this? With your chirp-chirp?

Am I the only one using it? Sparrow was confused. - And the Tit was there, and the Woodpecker, and the Magpie, and the Jackdaw. And you, Crow, were...

Don't confuse others! crowed the Crow. - You answer for yourself. Borrowed - give back! Like all decent birds do.

Decent, maybe they do, - Sparrow got angry. - But are you doing, Crow?

I will cry first! Do you hear the tractor plowing in the field? And after him, I choose all kinds of root beetles and root rodents from the furrow. And Magpie and Jackdaw help me. And looking at us, other birds are trying.

You, too, for others do not vouch! - Sparrow rests. - Others may have forgotten to think.

But the Crow does not let up:

And you fly and check!

Sparrow flew to check. He flew into the garden, where Titmouse lives in a new nest box.

Congratulations on your new home! - Sparrow says. - For joy, I suppose I forgot about the debts!

Do not forget, Sparrow, that you are! - Replies Tit. - The guys treated me with delicious lard in the winter, and I will treat them with sweet apples in the fall. I guard the garden from codling moths and leafworms.

For what need, Sparrow, flew into the forest to me?

Yes, they demand a calculation from me, - Sparrow chirps. - And you, Woodpecker, how do you pay?

I’m trying so hard, ”the Woodpecker answers. - I protect the forest from woodworms and bark beetles. I fight them without sparing my stomach! Even got fat...

Look at you, Sparrow thought. - I thought...

Sparrow returned to the dunghill and said to the Crow:

Yours, hag, really! All for winter debts work out. Am I worse than others? How can I start feeding my chicks with mosquitoes, horseflies and flies! So that the bloodsuckers do not sting these guys! I'll pay back my debts!

He said so and let's jump up and chirp again on the dunghill. There is still free time. Until the sparrows hatch in the nest.

Arithmetic titmouse

N.I. Sladkov

In spring, white-cheeked titmouse sing the loudest of all: they ring bells. In a different way and manner. Some people hear it like this: “Twice two, twice two, twice two!” And others whistle smartly: “Four-four-re-four!”

From morning to evening, titmouse crammed the multiplication table.

"Twice two, twice two, twice two!" - shout out one.

"Four-four-four!" - cheerfully answer others.

Arithmetic titmouse.

Brave duck

Boris Zhitkov

Every morning, the hostess brought the ducklings a full plate of chopped eggs. She put the plate near the bush, and she left.

As soon as the ducklings ran up to the plate, suddenly a large dragonfly flew out of the garden and began to circle above them.

She chirped so terribly that frightened ducklings ran away and hid in the grass. They were afraid that the dragonfly would bite them all.

And the evil dragonfly sat on the plate, tasted the food and then flew away. After that, the ducklings did not approach the plate for a whole day. They were afraid that the dragonfly would fly again. In the evening, the hostess cleaned the plate and said: “Our ducklings must be sick, they don’t eat anything.” She did not know that the ducklings went to bed hungry every night.

Once, their neighbor, a little duckling Alyosha, came to visit the ducklings. When the ducklings told him about the dragonfly, he began to laugh.

Well, the brave ones! - he said. - I alone will drive this dragonfly away. Here you will see tomorrow.

You boast, - said the ducklings, - tomorrow you will be the first to be scared and run.

The next morning the hostess, as always, put a plate of chopped eggs on the ground and left.

Well, look, - said the brave Alyosha, - now I will fight with your dragonfly.

As soon as he said this, a dragonfly suddenly buzzed. Right on top, she flew onto the plate.

The ducklings wanted to run away, but Alyosha was not afraid. Before the dragonfly had time to sit on the plate, Alyosha grabbed it by the wing with his beak. She pulled away with force and flew away with a broken wing.

Since then, she never flew into the garden, and the ducklings ate their fill every day. They not only ate themselves, but also treated the brave Alyosha for saving them from the dragonfly.

Jackdaw

Boris Zhitkov

My brother and sister had a hand jackdaw. She ate from the hands, was given to stroke, flew away into the wild and flew back.

That time the sister began to wash. She took the ring off her hand, put it on the washbasin, and lathered her face with soap. And when she rinsed the soap, she looked: where is the ring? And there is no ring.

She called out to her brother:

Give me the ring, don't tease! Why did you take it?

I didn't take anything, - answered the brother.

His sister quarreled with him and wept.

Grandma heard.

What do you have here? - He speaks. - Give me glasses, now I will find this ring.

Rushed to look for points - no points.

I just put them on the table, - the grandmother is crying. - Where do they go? How can I put a needle in now?

And screamed at the boy.

This is your business! Why are you teasing grandma?

The boy got offended and ran out of the house. He looks - and a jackdaw flies over the roof, and something glitters under her beak. I looked closer - yes, these are glasses! The boy hid behind a tree and began to look. And the jackdaw sat on the roof, looked around to see if anyone could see, and began to push glasses on the roof with her beak into the crack.

Grandma came out onto the porch, says to the boy:

Tell me, where are my glasses?

On the roof! - said the boy.

Grandma was surprised. And the boy climbed onto the roof and pulled out his grandmother's glasses from the crack. Then he pulled out the ring. And then he took out glasses, and then a lot of different money pieces.

The grandmother was delighted with the glasses, and the sister gave the ring and said to her brother:

Forgive me, I thought of you, and this is a jackdaw thief.

And reconciled with my brother.

Grandma said:

That's all they are, jackdaws and magpies. What glitters, everything is dragged.

Orphan

Georgy Skrebitsky

The guys brought us a small shirt ... He could not fly yet, he only jumped. We fed him cottage cheese, porridge, soaked bread, gave him small pieces of boiled meat; He ate everything, refused nothing.

Soon the chemise grew a long tail and its wings were overgrown with stiff black feathers. He quickly learned to fly and moved to live from the room to the balcony.

Only this was the trouble with him: our shirt could not learn to eat on his own. Quite an adult bird, such a beautiful one, it flies well, but everything, like a little chick, asks for food. You go out onto the balcony, sit down at the table, the magpie is already right there, spinning in front of you, crouching, puffing up its wings, opening its mouth. And it's funny and pitiful. Mom even called her Orphan. She used to put cottage cheese or soaked bread in her mouth, swallow forty - and again begins to ask, but she herself does not peck from the plate. We taught and taught her - nothing came of it, so we had to stuff food into her mouth. Orphan used to eat, shake herself, look with a cunning black eye at the plate, if there is anything else tasty there, and fly up on the crossbar to the very ceiling or fly into the garden, into the yard ... She flew everywhere and was familiar with everyone : with a fat cat Ivanych, with a hunting dog Jack, with ducks, chickens; even with the old pugnacious rooster Petrovich, the magpie was on friendly terms. He bullied everyone in the yard, but did not touch her. It used to be that chickens pecked from the trough, and the magpie immediately turned around. It smells deliciously of warm soaked bran, I want a magpie to have breakfast in a friendly chicken company, but nothing comes of it. The Orphan sticks to the chickens, crouches, squeaks, opens its beak - no one wants to feed it. She will also jump up to Petrovich, squeak, and he will only look at her, muttering: “What an outrage this is!” - and walk away. And then suddenly he flaps his strong wings, stretches his neck up, strains, stands on tiptoe and sings: “Ku-ka-re-ku!” - so loud that you can even hear it across the river.

And the magpie jumps and jumps around the yard, flies into the stable, looks into the cow's stall ... Everyone eats by themselves, and again she has to fly to the balcony and ask to be fed from her hands.

Once there was no one to mess with the magpie. Everyone was busy all day. Already she pestered, pestered everyone - no one feeds her!

That day I caught fish in the river in the morning, returned home only in the evening and threw out the worms left over from fishing in the yard. Let the chickens peck.

Petrovich immediately noticed the prey, ran up and began to call the chickens: “Ko-ko-ko-ko! Ko-ko-ko-ko!" And they, as luck would have it, scattered somewhere, not a single one in the yard. Already the rooster is knocked out of his strength! He calls, calls, then grabs the worm in his beak, shakes it, throws it and calls again - for no reason does the first one want to eat. Even hoarse, but the chickens still do not go.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, forty. She flew up to Petrovich, spread her wings and opened her mouth: feed me, they say.

The rooster immediately cheered up, grabbed a huge worm in its beak, lifted it, shaking it in front of the very nose of the magpie. She looked, looked, then the worm's chop - and ate it! And the rooster gives her a second. She ate both the second and the third, and Petrovich himself pecked the fourth.

I look out the window and wonder how a rooster feeds a magpie from its beak: either he will give it to her, then he will eat it himself, then he will offer it to her again. And he keeps saying: “Ko-ko-ko-ko! ..” He bows, shows worms on the ground with his beak: eat, they say, do not be afraid, they are so delicious.

And I don’t know how it all worked out for them there, how he explained to her what was the matter, I just see a cock crowed, showed a worm on the ground, and a magpie jumped up, turned its head to one side, to the other, took a closer look and ate it right from the ground . Petrovich even shook his head in approval; then he grabbed a hefty worm himself, threw it up, caught it more comfortably with his beak and swallowed it: here, they say, as we like it. But the magpie, apparently, understood what was the matter - it jumps near him and pecks. The rooster also began to pick up worms. So they try to race against each other - who is faster. In an instant, all the worms were pecked.

Since then, the magpie did not have to be hand-fed. Once, Petrovich taught her how to handle food. And how he explained it to her, I myself do not know.

forest voice

Georgy Skrebitsky

Sunny day at the very beginning of summer. I wander not far from home, in a birch copse. Everything around seems to be bathed, splashing in golden waves of heat and light. Birch branches flow above me. The leaves on them seem either emerald green or completely golden. And below, under the birches, on the grass, too, like waves, light bluish shadows run and stream. And bright bunnies, like the reflections of the sun in the water, run one after another along the grass, along the path.

The sun is both in the sky and on the ground... And it becomes so good, so fun that you want to run away somewhere far away, to where the trunks of young birch trees sparkle with their dazzling whiteness.

And suddenly, from this sunny distance, I heard a familiar forest voice: "Ku-ku, ku-ku!"

Cuckoo! I've heard it many times before, but I've never even seen it in a picture. What is she like? For some reason, she seemed to me plump, big-headed, like an owl. But maybe she's not like that at all? I'll run and take a look.

Alas, it turned out to be far from easy. I - to her voice. And she will be silent, and here again: “Ku-ku, ku-ku”, but in a completely different place.

How to see it? I stopped in thought. Maybe she's playing hide-and-seek with me? She hides, and I'm looking. And let's play the other way around: now I'll hide, and you look.

I climbed into a hazel bush and also cuckooed once, twice. The cuckoo fell silent, maybe looking for me? I sit silently and I, even my heart is pounding with excitement. And suddenly somewhere nearby: "Ku-ku, ku-ku!"

I am silent: look better, don't shout at the whole forest.

And she is already very close: "Ku-ku, ku-ku!"

I look: some kind of bird flies through the clearing, the tail is long, it is gray itself, only the breast is covered with dark spots. Probably a hawk. This one in our yard hunts for sparrows. He flew up to a neighboring tree, sat down on a branch, bent down and shouted: "Ku-ku, ku-ku!"

Cuckoo! That's it! So, she is not like an owl, but like a hawk.

I will cuckoo her from the bush in response! With a fright, she almost fell off the tree, immediately rushed down from the branch, sniffing somewhere in the thicket, only I saw her.

But I don't need to see her anymore. So I solved the forest riddle, and besides, for the first time I myself spoke to the bird in its native language.

So the sonorous forest voice of the cuckoo revealed to me the first secret of the forest. And since then, for half a century now, I have been wandering in winter and summer along deaf, untrodden paths and discovering more and more new secrets. And there is no end to these winding paths, and there is no end to the secrets of native nature.

Friendship

Georgy Skrebitsky

Once my brother and I sat in a room in the winter and looked out the window at the yard. And in the yard, by the fence, crows and jackdaws dug through the garbage.

Suddenly we see - some kind of bird flew to them, completely black, with blue, and a large, white nose. What a marvel: it's a rook! Where did he come from in winter? We look, a rook walks through the garbage dump among the crows and limps a little - probably some kind of sick or old; could not fly south with other rooks, so he stayed with us for the winter.

Then every morning a rook got into the habit of flying to our garbage heap. We purposely crumble bread for him, porridge, cottage cheese from dinner. Only he got a little: everything used to be eaten by crows - these are such impudent birds. And some quiet rook got caught. Keeps on the sidelines, all alone and alone. And even that is true: his brethren flew south, he was left alone; crows - his company is bad. We see that the gray robbers offend our rook, but we don’t know how to help him. How to feed him so that the crows do not interfere?

Day by day the rook became more and more sad. It happened that he would fly in and sit on the fence, but he was afraid to go down to the garbage heap to the crows: he was completely weakened.

Once we looked out the window in the morning, and the rook lies under the fence. We ran, brought him into the house; he's barely breathing. We put him in a box, by the stove, covered him with a blanket and gave him all kinds of food.

For two weeks he sat like this with us, warmed up, ate a little. We think: how to proceed with it? Do not keep it in a box all winter! They decided to let him out again: maybe he will be stronger now, he will winter somehow.

And the rook, apparently, realized that we had done good to him, which means that there is nothing to be afraid of people. Since then, he spent whole days like that with chickens in the yard.

At that time, a tame magpie Orphan lived with us. We took her as a chick and fed her. The orphan flew freely around the yard, around the garden, and returned to spend the night on the balcony. Here we see - our rook made friends with the Orphan: where she flies, there he follows her. Once we look - the Orphan flew to the balcony, and the rook also showed up with her. It is important to walk around the table like that. And the magpie, like a mistress, fusses, gallops around him.

We slowly pushed a cup of soaked bread out from under the door. Magpie - straight to the cup, and the rook behind it. They both had breakfast and left. So every day they began to fly to the balcony together - to feed.

The winter passed, the rooks returned from the south, roared in the old birch grove. In the evenings, they sit in pairs near the nests, sit and talk, as if discussing their affairs. Only our rook did not find a mate, as before, he flew everywhere for the Orphan. And in the evening they will sit near the house on a birch and sit side by side, so close, side by side.

You look at them and involuntarily think: it means that birds also have friendship.