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Hare's feet Konstantin Paustovsky

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Title: Hare's feet

About the book “Hare's Paws” by Konstantin Paustovsky

Konstantin Paustovsky is a Soviet Russian prose writer and writer. The main direction of his work is romanticism. He worked with such genres as essays, plays, literary tales, stories, novellas and novels. The stories and tales of the Russian classic have been translated into many times. foreign languages. In the 20th century, Paustovsky's works were included in school curriculum in the discipline "Russian literature". In middle school they are studied as examples of prose - lyrical and landscape. His works have been adapted into films and cartoons.

Konstantin Paustovsky had a huge life experience. He was faithful to the ideas of responsible freedom of man, including the artist. The prose writer survived 3 wars: the First, Civil and Great Patriotic War. Paustovsky made his debut as a writer with the collection of stories “Oncoming Ships.” If you want to get acquainted with the beginning and development of his work, we recommend reading the autobiographical “Tale of Life”. The first book, “Distant Years,” tells about the writer’s childhood years. Konstantin Paustovsky talks about his further fate in the books “The Beginning of an Unknown Century” and “Restless Youth”.

Perhaps each of us in childhood came across the work of K. Paustovsky. Someone read his fairy tales in early childhood parents, someone read them themselves. Surely everyone is familiar with the story “Hare's Paws”. This drama about animals is from the children's category, a Russian classic. According to the plot of the story, grandfather Larion saves a little hare from a forest fire. The work touches on the problems of kindness and human indifference, the close relationship between nature and man.

In the book “Hare's Paws” the author points out the responsibility of a person for his actions not only in relation to people, but also to all living things. You need to be responsive not only to humans, but to animals. In the work main character fights against human indifference and the elements of nature. The hare saved Larion's grandfather in the forest, for which he is grateful to the animal and at the same time feels a deep sense of guilt for his mutilated health.

"Hare's Paws" is a drama, the plot of which is conveyed through the actions and actions of a person. The author pays little attention to the characteristics of the characters, but allocates a special place to the landscape. The writer also violated chronological order events taking place, revealing the main idea at the end of the story. If you want to find out how the story of the main characters – grandfather Larion and the bunny – ended, we recommend starting to read the story by K. Paustovsky.

On our website about books you can download the site for free without registration or read online book“Hare's Paws” by Konstantin Paustovsky in epub, fb2, txt, rtf, pdf formats for iPad, iPhone, Android and Kindle. The book will give you a lot of pleasant moments and real pleasure from reading. Buy full version you can from our partner. Also, here you will find last news from literary world, learn the biography of your favorite authors. For beginning writers there is a separate section with useful tips and recommendations, interesting articles, thanks to which you yourself can try your hand at literary crafts.

“...Karl Petrovich was playing something sad and melodic on the piano when his grandfather’s disheveled beard appeared in the window.

A minute later Karl Petrovich was already angry.

“I’m not a veterinarian,” he said and slammed the lid of the piano. Immediately thunder roared in the meadows. “All my life I’ve been treating children, not hares.”

“A child and a hare are all the same,” the grandfather muttered stubbornly. - It’s all the same! Heal, show mercy! Our veterinarian has no jurisdiction over such matters. He horse-rided for us. This hare, one might say, is my savior: I owe him my life, I must show gratitude, but you say - quit!..."

The work was published in 2015 by the publishing house Children's Literature. The book is part of the series School library". On our website you can download the book "Hare's Paws" in fb2, rtf, epub, pdf, txt format or read online. The book's rating is 4.31 out of 5. Here you can also refer to the reviews of readers who are already familiar with the book before reading, and find out their opinion. In our partner’s online store you can buy and read the book in paper form.

Vanya Malyavin came to the veterinarian in our village from Lake Urzhenskoe and brought a small warm hare wrapped in a torn cotton jacket. The hare was crying and blinking his eyes red from tears often...

-Are you crazy? – the veterinarian shouted. “Soon you’ll be bringing mice to me, you bastard!”

“Don’t bark, this is a special hare,” Vanya said in a hoarse whisper. His grandfather sent him and ordered him to be treated.

- What to treat for?

- His paws are burned.

The veterinarian turned Vanya to face the door, pushed him in the back and shouted after him:

- Go ahead, go ahead! I don't know how to treat them. Fry it with onions and grandpa will have a snack.

Vanya didn’t answer. He went out into the hallway, blinked his eyes, sniffed and buried himself in the log wall. Tears flowed down the wall. The hare quietly trembled under his greasy jacket.

-What are you doing, little one? - the compassionate grandmother Anisya asked Vanya; she took her only goat to the vet. “Why are you two shedding tears, dear ones?” Oh what happened?

“He’s burned, grandfather’s hare,” Vanya said quietly. “He burned his paws in a forest fire and can’t run.” Look, he's about to die.

“Don’t die, kid,” Anisya mumbled. “Tell your grandfather that if he really wants the hare to go out, let him take him to the city to see Karl Petrovich.”

Vanya wiped away his tears and walked home through the forests to Lake Urzhenskoe. He did not walk, but ran barefoot along the hot sandy road. A recent forest fire burned north near the lake. It smelled of burning and dry cloves. It grew in large islands in the clearings.

The hare moaned.

Vanya found fluffy leaves covered with soft silver hair along the way, tore them out, put them under a pine tree and turned the hare around. The hare looked at the leaves, buried his head in them and fell silent.

-What are you doing, gray? – Vanya asked quietly. - You should eat.

The hare was silent.

The hare moved his ragged ear and closed his eyes.

Vanya took him in his arms and ran straight through the forest - he had to quickly let the hare drink from the lake.

There was unheard-of heat over the forests that summer. In the morning, strings of white clouds floated in. At noon, the clouds quickly rushed upward, towards the zenith, and before our eyes they were carried away and disappeared somewhere beyond the boundaries of the sky. The hot hurricane had been blowing for two weeks without a break. The resin flowing down the pine trunks turned into amber stone.

The next morning the grandfather put on clean boots and new bast shoes, took a staff and a piece of bread and wandered into the city. Vanya carried the hare from behind. The hare became completely silent, only occasionally shuddering with his whole body and sighing convulsively.

The dry wind blew up a cloud of dust over the city, soft as flour. Chicken fluff, dry leaves and straw were flying in it. From a distance it seemed as if a quiet fire was smoking over the city.

The market square was very empty and hot; The carriage horses were dozing near the water shed, and they had straw hats on their heads. Grandfather crossed himself.

- It’s either a horse or a bride - the jester will sort them out! - he said and spat.

They asked passersby for a long time about Karl Petrovich, but no one really answered anything. We went to the pharmacy. Thick an old man wearing pince-nez and a short white robe, he shrugged his shoulders angrily and said:

- I like it! Enough weird question! Karl Petrovich Korsh, a specialist in childhood diseases, has stopped seeing patients for three years now. Why do you need it?

The grandfather, stuttering from respect for the pharmacist and from timidity, told about the hare.

- I like it! - said the pharmacist. – There are some interesting patients in our city. I like this great!

He nervously took off his pince-nez, wiped it, put it back on his nose and stared at his grandfather. Grandfather was silent and stood still. The pharmacist was also silent. The silence became painful.

– Poshtovaya street, three! – the pharmacist suddenly shouted in anger and slammed some disheveled thick book. - Three!

Grandfather and Vanya reached Pochtovaya Street just in time - a high thunderstorm was setting in from behind the Oka River. Lazy thunder stretched across the horizon, like a sleepy strongman straightening his shoulders and reluctantly shaking the ground. Gray ripples went down the river. Silent lightning surreptitiously, but swiftly and strongly struck the meadows; Far beyond the Glades, a haystack that they had lit was already burning. Large drops of rain fell on the dusty road, and soon it became like the surface of the moon: each drop left a small crater in the dust.

Karl Petrovich was playing something sad and melodic on the piano when his grandfather’s disheveled beard appeared in the window.

A minute later Karl Petrovich was already angry.

“I’m not a veterinarian,” he said and slammed the lid of the piano. Immediately thunder roared in the meadows. “All my life I’ve been treating children, not hares.”

“A child and a hare are all the same,” the grandfather muttered stubbornly. - It’s all the same! Heal, show mercy! Our veterinarian has no jurisdiction over such matters. He horse-rided for us. This hare, one might say, is my savior: I owe him my life, I must show gratitude, but you say - quit!

A minute later, Karl Petrovich, an old man with gray ruffled eyebrows, worriedly listened to his grandfather’s stumbling story.

Karl Petrovich eventually agreed to treat the hare. The next morning, the grandfather went to the lake, and left Vanya with Karl Petrovich to go after the hare.

A day later, the entire Pochtovaya Street, overgrown with goose grass, already knew that Karl Petrovich was treating a hare that had been burned in a terrible forest fire and had saved some old man. Two days later everyone already knew about it Small town, and on the third day a tall young man in a felt hat came to Karl Petrovich, introduced himself as an employee of a Moscow newspaper and asked for a conversation about the hare.

The hare was cured. Vanya wrapped him in cotton rags and carried him home. Soon the story about the hare was forgotten, and only some Moscow professor spent a long time trying to get his grandfather to sell him the hare. He even sent letters with stamps in response. But the grandfather did not give up. Under his dictation, Vanya wrote a letter to the professor:

The hare is not for sale, alive soul, let him live in freedom. At the same time, I remain Larion Malyavin.

This fall I spent the night with Grandfather Larion on Lake Urzhenskoe. Constellations, cold as grains of ice, floated in the water. The dry reeds rustled. The ducks shivered in the thickets and quacked pitifully all night.

Grandfather couldn't sleep. He sat by the stove and mended a torn fishing net. Then he put on the samovar - it immediately fogged up the windows in the hut and the stars turned from fiery points into cloudy balls. Murzik was barking in the yard. He jumped into the darkness, flashed his teeth and jumped back - he fought with the impenetrable October night. The hare slept in the hallway and occasionally, in his sleep, loudly tapped his hind paw on the rotten floorboard.

We drank tea at night, waiting for the distant and hesitant dawn, and over tea my grandfather finally told me the story about the hare.

In August, my grandfather went hunting on the northern shore of the lake. The forests were as dry as gunpowder. Grandfather came across a little hare with a torn left ear. The grandfather shot at him with an old gun tied with wire, but missed. The hare ran away.

The grandfather realized that a forest fire had started and the fire was coming straight towards him. The wind turned into a hurricane. The fire raced across the ground at an unheard of speed. According to the grandfather, even a train could not escape such a fire. Grandfather was right: during the hurricane, the fire moved at a speed of thirty kilometers per hour.

Grandfather ran over the bumps, stumbled, fell, the smoke ate his eyes, and behind him a wide roar and crackle of flames could already be heard.

Death overtook the grandfather, grabbed him by the shoulders, and at that time a hare jumped out from under the grandfather’s feet. He ran slowly and dragged hind legs. Then only the grandfather noticed that the hare’s hair was burnt.

The grandfather was delighted with the hare, as if it were his own. As an old forest dweller, grandfather knew that animals are much more better than man they sense where the fire is coming from and always escape. They die only in those rare cases when fire surrounds them.

Grandfather ran after the hare. He ran, cried with fear and shouted: “Wait, honey, don’t run so fast!”

The hare brought the grandfather out of the fire. When they ran out of the forest to the lake, the hare and grandfather both fell from fatigue. Grandfather picked up the hare and took it home. The hare's hind legs and stomach were singed. Then his grandfather cured him and kept him with him.

“Yes,” said the grandfather, looking at the samovar so angrily, as if the samovar was to blame for everything, “yes, but before that hare, it turns out that I was very guilty, dear man.”

-What have you done wrong?

- And you go out, look at the hare, at my savior, then you will know. Take a flashlight!

I took the lantern from the table and went out into the hallway. The hare was sleeping. I bent over him with a flashlight and noticed that the hare’s left ear was torn. Then I understood everything.