It was as if I was sleeping before her, hidden in the darkness, but she appeared, woke me up, brought me into the light, tied everything around me into a continuous thread, wove everything into multi-colored lace and immediately became a friend for life, the closest to my heart, the most understandable and dear person - it was her selfless love for the world that enriched me, saturating me with strong strength for a difficult life.
Forty years ago steamships moved slowly; We drove to Nizhny for a very long time, and I remember well those first days of being saturated with beauty.
The weather was fine; from morning to evening I am with my grandmother on the deck, under a clear sky, between the autumn-gilded, silk-embroidered banks of the Volga. Slowly, lazily and loudly thumping across the greyish-blue water, a light-red steamship with a barge in a long tow is stretching upstream. The barge is gray and looks like a woodlice. The sun floats unnoticed over the Volga; Every hour everything around is new, everything changes; green mountains are like lush folds on the rich clothing of the earth; along the banks there are cities and villages, like gingerbread ones from afar; golden autumn leaf floats on the water.
Look how good it is! - Grandma says every minute, moving from side to side, and she’s all beaming, and her eyes are joyfully widened.
Often, looking at the shore, she forgot about me: she stood at the side, folded her arms on her chest, smiled and was silent, and there were tears in her eyes. I tug at her dark skirt, printed with flowers.
Ass? - she will perk up. - It’s like I dozed off and was dreaming.
What are you crying about?
This, dear, is from joy and from old age,” she says, smiling. - I’m already old, in my sixties, my summers and springs have spread and gone.
And, after sniffing tobacco, he begins to tell me some outlandish stories about good thieves, about holy people, about all kinds of animals and evil spirits.
She tells stories quietly, mysteriously, leaning towards my face, looking into my eyes with dilated pupils, as if pouring strength into my heart, lifting me up. He speaks as if he were singing, and the further he goes, the more complex the words sound. It is indescribably pleasant to listen to her. I listen and ask:
And here’s how it happened: an old brownie is sitting in the pod, he’s stabbed his paw with a noodle, he’s rocking, whining: “Oh, little mice, it hurts, oh, little mice, I can’t stand it!”
Raising her leg, she grabs it with her hands, swings it in the air and wrinkles her face funny, as if she herself is in pain.
There are sailors standing around - bearded gentle men - listening, laughing, praising her and also asking:
Come on, grandma, tell me something else!
Then they say:
Come have dinner with us!
At dinner they treat her with vodka, me with watermelons and melon; this is done secretly: a man travels on the ship who forbids eating fruit, takes it away and throws it into the river. He is dressed like a guard - with brass buttons - and is always drunk; people are hiding from him.
Mother rarely comes on deck and stays away from us. She is still silent, mother. Her large slender body, dark, iron face, heavy crown of blond hair braided in braids - all of her powerful and solid - are remembered to me as if through fog or a transparent cloud; from it the straight grey eyes, as big as grandma's.
One day she said sternly:
People are laughing at you, mom!
And God be with them! - Grandma answered carefree. - Let them laugh, for good health!
I remember my grandmother’s childhood joy at the sight of Nizhny.
I dedicate it to my son
I
In a dim, cramped room, on the floor, under the window, lies my father, dressed in white and unusually long; the toes of his bare feet are strangely spread out, the fingers of his gentle hands, quietly placed on his chest, are also crooked; his cheerful eyes are tightly covered with black circles of copper coins, his kind face is dark and scares me with his badly bared teeth. Mother, half naked, in a red skirt, is on her knees, combing her father’s long soft hair from his forehead to the back of his head with a black comb, which I used to saw through the rinds of watermelons; the mother continuously says something in a thick, hoarse voice, her gray eyes are swollen and seem to melt, flowing down with large drops of tears. My grandmother is holding my hand - round, big-headed, with huge eyes and a funny, doughy nose; she is all black, soft and surprisingly interesting; she also cries, singing along with her mother in a special and good way, she trembles all over and tugs at me, pushing me towards my father; I resist, hide behind her; I'm scared and embarrassed. I had never seen big people cry before, and I did not understand the words repeatedly spoken by my grandmother: - Say goodbye to your aunt, you will never see him again, he died, my dear, at the wrong time, at the wrong time... I was seriously ill—I had just gotten back to my feet; During my illness - I remember this well - my father merrily fussed with me, then he suddenly disappeared and was replaced by my grandmother, a strange person. -Where did you come from? - I asked her. She answered: - From above, from Nizhny, but she didn’t come, but she arrived! They don't walk on water, shush! It was funny and incomprehensible: upstairs in the house lived bearded, painted Persians, and in the basement an old yellow Kalmyk was selling sheepskins. You can slide down the stairs astride the railing or, when you fall, you can roll somersault - I knew that well. And what does water have to do with it? Everything is wrong and funny confused. - Why am I freaking out? “Because you make noise,” she said, also laughing. She spoke kindly, cheerfully, smoothly. From the very first day I became friends with her, and now I want her to quickly leave this room with me. My mother suppresses me; her tears and howls sparked a new, anxious feeling in me. This is the first time I see her like this - she was always strict, spoke little; she is clean, smooth and big, like a horse; she has a tough body and terribly strong arms. And now she is all somehow unpleasantly swollen and disheveled, everything on her is torn; the hair, lying neatly on the head, in a large light cap, scattered over the bare shoulder, fell on the face, and half of it, braided in a braid, dangled, touching his father’s sleeping face. I’ve been standing in the room for a long time, but she’s never looked at me, she combs her father’s hair and keeps growling, choking on tears. Black men and a sentry soldier look in the door. He shouts angrily: - Quickly clean it up! The window is curtained with a dark shawl; it swells like a sail. One day my father took me on a boat with a sail. Suddenly thunder struck. My father laughed, squeezed me tightly with his knees and shouted: - It’s okay, don’t be afraid, Luk! Suddenly the mother threw herself up heavily from the floor, immediately sank down again, toppled over onto her back, scattering her hair across the floor; her blind, white face turned blue, and, baring her teeth like her father, she said in a terrible voice: - Shut the door... Alexei - get out! Pushing me away, my grandmother rushed to the door and shouted: - Dear ones, don’t be afraid, don’t touch me, leave for Christ’s sake! This is not cholera, the birth has come, for mercy, priests! I hid in a dark corner behind a chest and from there I watched my mother squirm across the floor, groaning and gritting her teeth, and my grandmother, crawling around, said affectionately and joyfully: - In the name of father and son! Be patient, Varyusha! Most Holy Mother of God, Intercessor... I'm scared; They are fiddling around on the floor near their father, touching him, moaning and screaming, but he is motionless and seems to be laughing. This went on for a long time - fussing on the floor; More than once the mother rose to her feet and fell again; grandmother rolled out of the room like a big black soft ball; then suddenly a child screamed in the darkness. - Glory to you, Lord! - said the grandmother. - Boy! And lit a candle. I must have fallen asleep in the corner - I don’t remember anything else. The second imprint in my memory is a rainy day, a deserted corner of the cemetery; I stand on a slippery mound of sticky earth and look into the hole where my father’s coffin was lowered; at the bottom of the hole there is a lot of water and there are frogs - two have already climbed onto the yellow lid of the coffin. At the grave - me, my grandmother, a wet guard and two angry men with shovels. Warm rain, fine as beads, showers everyone. “Bury,” said the watchman, walking away. Grandmother began to cry, hiding her face in the end of her headscarf. The men, bent over, hastily began to throw earth into the grave, water began to gush; Jumping from the coffin, the frogs began to rush onto the walls of the pit, clods of earth knocking them to the bottom. “Move away, Lenya,” my grandmother said, taking me by the shoulder; I slipped out from under her hand; I didn’t want to leave. “What are you, my God,” the grandmother complained, either to me or to God, and stood silently for a long time, with her head down; The grave has already been leveled to the ground, but it still stands. The men loudly splashed their shovels on the ground; the wind came and drove away, carried away the rain. Grandmother took me by the hand and led me to a distant church, among many dark crosses. - Aren't you going to cry? - she asked when she went outside the fence. - I would cry! “I don’t want to,” I said. “Well, I don’t want to, so I don’t have to,” she said quietly. All this was surprising: I cried rarely and only from resentment, not from pain; my father always laughed at my tears, and my mother shouted: - Don't you dare cry! Then we rode along a wide, very dirty street in a droshky, among dark red houses; I asked my grandmother: “Won’t the frogs come out?” “No, they won’t get out,” she answered. - God be with them! Neither father nor mother spoke the name of God so often and so closely. A few days later, I, my grandmother and my mother were traveling on a ship, in a small cabin; my newborn brother Maxim died and lay on the table in the corner, wrapped in white, swaddled with red braid. Perched on bundles and chests, I look out the window, convex and round, like the eye of a horse; Behind the wet glass, muddy, foamy water flows endlessly. Sometimes she jumps up and licks the glass. I involuntarily jump to the floor. “Don’t be afraid,” says grandma and, easily lifting me with soft hands, she puts me back on the knots. Above the water there is a gray, wet fog; Far away somewhere a dark land appears and disappears again into fog and water. Everything around is shaking. Only the mother, with her hands behind her head, stands leaning against the wall, firmly and motionless. Her face is dark, iron and blind, her eyes are tightly closed, she is silent all the time, and everything is somehow different, new, even the dress she is wearing is unfamiliar to me. Grandmother more than once told her quietly: - Varya, would you like to eat something, a little, huh? She is silent and motionless. Grandma speaks to me in a whisper, and to my mother - louder, but somehow carefully, timidly and very little. It seems to me that she is afraid of her mother. This is clear to me and brings me very close to my grandmother. “Saratov,” the mother said unexpectedly loudly and angrily. - Where is the sailor? So her words are strange, alien: Saratov, sailor. A wide, gray-haired man dressed in blue came in and brought a small box. The grandmother took him and began to lay out his brother’s body, laid him down and carried him to the door on outstretched arms, but, being fat, she could only walk through the narrow door of the cabin sideways and hesitated funny in front of it. “Eh, mother,” my mother shouted, took the coffin from her, and they both disappeared, and I remained in the cabin, looking at the blue man. - What, little brother left? - he said, leaning towards me.- Who are you? - Sailor. - Who is Saratov? - City. Look out the window, there he is! Outside the window the ground was moving; dark, steep, it smoked with fog, resembling a large piece of bread that had just been cut from a loaf. -Where did grandma go? - To bury my grandson. - Will they bury him in the ground? - What about it? They will bury it. I told the sailor how they buried live frogs when burying my father. He picked me up, hugged me tightly and kissed me. - Eh, brother, you still don’t understand anything! - he said. - There is no need to feel sorry for the frogs, God bless them! Have pity on the mother - look how her grief hurt her! There was a hum and a howl above us. I already knew that it was a steamer and was not afraid, but the sailor hastily lowered me to the floor and rushed out, saying:- We must run! And I also wanted to run away. I walked out the door. The dark, narrow crevice was empty. Not far from the door, copper glittered on the steps of the stairs. Looking up, I saw people with knapsacks and bundles in their hands. It was clear that everyone was leaving the ship, which meant I had to leave too. But when, together with a crowd of men, I found myself at the side of the ship, in front of the bridge to the shore, everyone began to shout at me: - Whose is this? Whose are you?- Don't know. They pushed me, shook me, groped me for a long time. Finally a gray-haired sailor appeared and grabbed me, explaining: - This is from Astrakhan, from the cabin... He carried me into the cabin at a run, put me in some bundles and left, wagging his finger:- I'll ask you! The noise overhead became quieter, the steamer no longer trembled or thumped through the water. The window of the cabin was blocked by some kind of wet wall; it became dark, stuffy, the knots seemed to be swollen, oppressing me, and everything was not good. Maybe they will leave me alone forever on an empty ship? I went to the door. It does not open, its copper handle cannot be turned. Taking the milk bottle, I hit the handle with all my might. The bottle broke, the milk poured over my feet and flowed into my boots. Distressed by the failure, I lay down on the bundles, cried quietly and, in tears, fell asleep. And when I woke up, the ship was thumping and shaking again, the cabin window was burning like the sun. Grandmother, sitting next to me, scratched her hair and winced, whispering something. She had a strange amount of hair, it thickly covered her shoulders, chest, knees and lay on the floor, black, tinged with blue. Lifting them from the floor with one hand and holding them in the air, she hardly inserted a rare-toothed wooden comb into the thick strands; her lips curled, her dark eyes sparkled angrily, and her face in this mass of hair became small and funny. Today she seemed angry, but when I asked why her hair was so long, she said in yesterday’s warm and soft voice: - Apparently, God gave it as punishment - comb them, you damned ones! When I was young I boasted about this mane, I swear in my old age! And you sleep! It’s still early, the sun has just risen from the night... - I don’t want to sleep! “Well, don’t sleep otherwise,” she immediately agreed, braiding her hair and looking at the sofa, where her mother lay face up, stretched out. - How did you crack the bottle yesterday? Speak quietly! She spoke, singing the words in a special way, and they easily became stronger in my memory, like flowers, just as affectionate, bright, juicy. When she smiled, her pupils, dark as cherries, dilated, flashing with an inexpressibly pleasant light, her smile cheerfully revealed her strong white teeth, and, despite the many wrinkles in the dark skin of her cheeks, her whole face seemed young and bright. This loose nose with swollen nostrils and red at the end spoiled him very much. She sniffed tobacco from a black snuff box decorated with silver. She was all dark, but she shone from within - through her eyes - with an unquenchable, cheerful and warm light. She was stooped, almost hunchbacked, very plump, and she moved easily and deftly, like a big cat - she was as soft as this affectionate animal. It was as if I was sleeping before her, hidden in the darkness, but she appeared, woke me up, brought me into the light, tied everything around me into a continuous thread, wove everything into multi-colored lace and immediately became a friend for life, the closest to my heart, the most understandable and dear person - it was her selfless love for the world that enriched me, saturating me with strong strength for a difficult life. Forty years ago steamships moved slowly; We drove to Nizhny for a very long time, and I remember well those first days of being saturated with beauty. The weather was fine; from morning to evening I am with my grandmother on the deck, under a clear sky, between the autumn-gilded, silk-embroidered banks of the Volga. Slowly, lazily and loudly thumping across the greyish-blue water, a light-red steamship with a barge in a long tow is stretching upstream. The barge is gray and looks like a woodlice. The sun floats unnoticed over the Volga; Every hour everything around is new, everything changes; green mountains are like lush folds on the rich clothing of the earth; along the banks there are cities and villages, like gingerbread ones from afar; golden autumn leaf floats on the water. - Look how good it is! - Grandma says every minute, moving from side to side, and she’s all beaming, and her eyes are joyfully widened. Often, looking at the shore, she forgot about me: she stood at the side, folded her arms on her chest, smiled and was silent, and there were tears in her eyes. I tug at her dark skirt, printed with flowers. - As? - she perks up. “It’s like I dozed off and was dreaming.” -What are you crying about? “This, dear, is from joy and from old age,” she says, smiling. “I’m already old, in my sixth decade of summer and spring my life has spread and gone.” And, after sniffing tobacco, he begins to tell me some strange stories about good thieves, about holy people, about all kinds of animals and evil spirits. She tells stories quietly, mysteriously, leaning towards my face, looking into my eyes with dilated pupils, as if pouring strength into my heart, lifting me up. He speaks as if he were singing, and the further he goes, the more complex the words sound. It is indescribably pleasant to listen to her. I listen and ask:- More! “And here’s how it happened: an old brownie is sitting in the shelter, he’s stabbed his paw with a noodle, he’s rocking, whining: “Oh, little mice, it hurts, oh, little mice, I can’t stand it!” Raising her leg, she grabs it with her hands, swings it in the air and wrinkles her face funny, as if she herself is in pain. There are sailors standing around - bearded gentle men - listening, laughing, praising her and also asking: - Come on, grandma, tell me something else! Then they say: - Come have dinner with us! At dinner they treat her with vodka, me with watermelons and melon; this is done secretly: a man travels on the ship who forbids eating fruit, takes it away and throws it into the river. He is dressed like a guard - with brass buttons - and is always drunk; people are hiding from him. Mother rarely comes on deck and stays away from us. She is still silent, mother. Her large slender body, dark, iron face, heavy crown of blond hair braided in braids - all of her powerful and solid - are remembered to me as if through fog or a transparent cloud; Straight gray eyes, as large as grandma’s, look out of it distantly and unfriendly. One day she said sternly: - People are laughing at you, mom! - And God be with them! - Grandma answered carefree. - Let them laugh, for good health! I remember my grandmother’s childhood joy at the sight of Nizhny. Pulling my hand, she pushed me towards the board and shouted: - Look, look how good it is! Here it is, father, Nizhny! That's what he is, for God's sake! Those churches, look, they seem to be flying! And the mother asked, almost crying: - Varyusha, look, tea, huh? Look, I forgot! Rejoice! The mother smiled gloomily. When the steamer stopped opposite a beautiful city, in the middle of a river closely cluttered with ships, bristling with hundreds of sharp masts, a large boat with many people floated up to its side, hooked itself with a hook to the lowered ladder, and one after another the people from the boat began to climb onto the deck. A small, dry old man, in a long black robe, with a red beard like gold, a bird's nose and green eyes, walked quickly ahead of everyone. - Dad! - the mother screamed thickly and loudly and fell over on him, and he, grabbing her head, quickly stroking her cheeks with his small red hands, shouted, squealing: - What, stupid? Yeah! That's it... Eh, you... Grandma hugged and kissed everyone at once, spinning like a propeller; she pushed me towards people and said hastily: - Well, hurry up! This is Uncle Mikhailo, this is Yakov... Aunt Natalya, these are brothers, both Sasha, sister Katerina, this is our whole tribe, that’s how many! Grandfather told her: -Are you okay, mother? They kissed three times. Grandfather pulled me out of the crowd of people and asked, holding me by the head: -Whose will you be? - Astrakhansky, from the cabin... -What is he saying? - the grandfather turned to his mother and, without waiting for an answer, pushed me aside, saying: - Those cheekbones are like fathers... Get into the boat! We drove ashore and walked in a crowd up the mountain, along a ramp paved with large cobblestones, between two high slopes covered with withered, trampled grass. Grandfather and mother walked ahead of everyone. He was as tall as her arm, walked shallowly and quickly, and she, looking down at him, seemed to be floating through the air. Behind them silently moved the uncles: black, smooth-haired Mikhail, dry as a grandfather; fair and curly-haired Yakov, some fat women in bright dresses and about six children, all older than me and all quiet. I walked with my grandmother and little aunt Natalya. Pale, blue-eyed, with a huge belly, she often stopped and, breathless, whispered:- Oh, I can’t! - Did they bother you? - Grandmother grumbled angrily. - What a stupid tribe! I didn’t like both the adults and the children, I felt like a stranger among them, even my grandmother somehow faded and moved away. I especially didn’t like my grandfather; I immediately sensed an enemy in him, and I developed a special attention to him, a cautious curiosity. We reached the end of the congress. At the very top of it, leaning against the right slope and beginning the street, stood a squat one-story house, painted dirty pink, with a low roof and bulging windows. From the street it seemed large to me, but inside it, in the small, dimly lit rooms, it was cramped; Everywhere, as on a steamship in front of the pier, angry people were fussing, children were darting about in a flock of thieving sparrows, and everywhere there was a pungent, unfamiliar smell. I found myself in the yard. The yard was also unpleasant: it was all hung with huge wet rags, filled with vats of thick, multi-colored water. The rags were also soaked in it. In the corner, in a low, dilapidated outbuilding, wood was burning hot in the stove, something was boiling, gurgling, and an invisible man was loudly saying strange words: - Sandalwood - magenta - vitriol...Administrativecontrol dictation
In Russian.
8th grade
Grandmother.
She spoke, singing the words in a special way, and they easily became stronger in my memory, like flowers, just as affectionate, bright, juicy. When she smiled, her pupils, dark as cherries, dilated, flashedGiving an inexpressibly pleasant light, the smile cheerfully revealed white, strong teeth, and, despite the many wrinkles in the dark skin of the cheeks, the whole face seemed young and bright. This loose nose with swollen nostrils and red at the end spoiled him very much. She sniffed tobacco from a black snuff box decorated with silver. She was all dark, but glowed from within, through her eyes, with an unquenchable, cheerful and warm light. She was stooped, almost hunchbacked, very plump, and she moved easily and deftly, like a big cat..
It was as if I was sleeping before her, right?hidden in the darkness, but she appeared, woke me up, brought me into the light, tied everything around me into a continuous thread, wove it into multi-colored lace and immediately became a friend for life, the closest to my heart, the most understandablea dear and dear person. It's her selflessnessI love for the world has enriched me, saturating me with strong strength for a difficult life.
M. Bitter "Childhood".
Grammar task:
1 option
Produce full parsing sentences: She sniffed...
From the sentence: All of her... write down one word combination at a timetion with the connection coordination, adjacency, control and mark the main and dependent word.
Explain the spelling n-nn in words:decorate..oh,especially..o
Option 2
Perform a full parsing of the last sentence.
From the sentence: Very muchrtyl... write down one phrase each with the connection coordination, adjacency, control and markmain and dependent word.
Explain the spelling n-nn in the words: hidden..y, esp..o
Administrativecontrol dictation
In Russian.
7th grade
In the Ussuri taiga.
Anyone who has not been to the taiga cannot imagine what kind of thicket it is, what kind of thickets it is. You can't see anything a few steps away. It happened more than once that an animal was raised from its bed four or six meters away, and only the noise and crackling of branches indicated the direction in which the animal was leaving. It was through this taiga that we walked for two days.
Suddenly, fresh prints of a large cat's paw, clearly visible on the muddy path, stopped us. There were no tracks on the path when we walked here. The water had not yet had time to fill the tracks pressed by the tiger's paw. There was no doubt that the terrible predator, having heard our voices, rushed into the thicket and hid somewhere behind a windbreak. We stood in one place for several minutes, hoping that some rustle would reveal the presence of a tiger, but there was deathly silence. The beast apparently left.
Grammar tasks.
Perform a complete syntactic analysis of 1 sentence 2 paragraphs.
Determine what part of speech the words in this sentence are.
Write out from 1 paragraph a word with an alternating vowel in the root.
Explain the spelling N-NN in the word vdavle(n,nn)y.
.
Abbreviated
The steamer was thumping and shaking again, the cabin window was burning like the sun. Grandmother, sitting next to me, scratched her hair and frowned, whispering something...
She spoke, singing the words in a special way, and they easily became stronger in my memory, like flowers, just as affectionate, bright, juicy. When she smiled, her pupils, dark as cherries, dilated, flashing with an inexpressibly pleasant light, her smile cheerfully revealed white, strong teeth, and, despite the many wrinkles in the dark skin of her cheeks, her whole face seemed young and bright. This loose nose with swollen nostrils and red at the end spoiled him very much. She sniffed tobacco from a black snuff box decorated with silver. She was all dark, but glowed from within - through her eyes - with an unquenchable, cheerful and warm light. She was stooped, almost hunchbacked, very plump, and she moved easily and deftly, like a big cat - she was as soft as this affectionate animal.
It was as if I was sleeping before her, hidden in the darkness, but she appeared, woke me up, brought me into the light, tied everything around me into a continuous thread, wove everything into multi-colored lace and immediately became a friend for life, the closest to my heart, the most understandable and dear person - it was her selfless love for the world that enriched me, saturating me with strong strength for a difficult life.
Forty years ago steamships moved slowly; We drove to Nizhny for a very long time, and I remember well those first days of being saturated with beauty.
The weather was fine; from morning to evening I am with my grandmother on the deck, under a clear sky, between the autumn-gilded, silk-embroidered banks of the Volga. Slowly, lazily and loudly thumping 1 along the greyish-blue water, a light-red steamer with a barge on a long tug stretches upstream. The barge is gray and looks like a woodlice. The sun floats unnoticed over the Volga; Every hour everything around is new, everything changes; green mountains are like lush folds on the rich clothing of the earth; along the banks there are cities and villages, like gingerbread ones from afar; golden autumn leaf floats on the water.
1 Plitsy- steamship wheel blades.
Look how good it is! - Grandma says every minute, moving from side to side, and she’s all beaming, and her eyes are joyfully widened.
Often, looking at the shore, she forgot about me: she stood at the side, folded her arms on her chest, smiled and was silent, and there were tears in her eyes. I tug at her dark skirt, printed with flowers.
Ass? - she will perk up. - It’s like I dozed off and was dreaming.
What are you crying about?
This, dear, is from joy and from old age,” she says, smiling. - I’m already old, after my sixth decade of summer and spring, they spread and went.
And, after sniffing tobacco, he begins to tell me some strange stories about good thieves, about holy people, about all kinds of animals and evil spirits.
She tells stories quietly, mysteriously, leaning towards my face, looking into my eyes with dilated pupils, as if pouring strength into my heart, lifting me up. He speaks as if he were singing, and the further he goes, the more complex the words sound. It is indescribably pleasant to listen to her. I listen and ask:
And here’s how it happened: an old brownie was sitting in the shelter, he’d stabbed his paw with a noodle, swaying, whining: “Oh, little mice, it hurts, oh, little mice, I can’t stand it!”
Raising her leg, she grabs it with her hands, swings it in the air and wrinkles her face funny, as if she herself is in pain.
There are sailors standing around - bearded, affectionate men - listening, laughing, praising her and also asking:
Come on, grandma, tell me something else!
Then they say:
Come have dinner with us!
At dinner they treat her with vodka, me with watermelons and melon; this is done secretly: a man travels on the ship who forbids eating fruit, takes it away and throws it into the river. He is dressed like a guard - with brass buttons - and is always drunk; people are hiding from him.
Mother rarely comes on deck and stays away from us. She is still silent, mother. Her large, slender body, dark, iron face, heavy crown of blond hair braided in braids - the whole of her, powerful and solid, is remembered to me as if through fog or a transparent cloud; Straight gray eyes, as large as grandma’s, look out of it distantly and unfriendly.
One day she said sternly:
People are laughing at you, mom!
And the Lord is with them! - Grandma answered carefree. - Let them laugh, for good health!
Appendix 2 1) She spoke, singing the words in a special way, and they easily became stronger in my memory, like flowers, just as affectionate, bright, juicy. 2) When she smiled, her pupils, dark as cherries, dilated, flashing an inexpressibly pleasant light, a smile cheerfully revealed white, strong teeth, and, despite the many wrinkles in the dark skin of the cheeks, the whole face seemed young and bright. 3) This loose nose with swollen nostrils and red at the end spoiled her very much. 4) She sniffed tobacco from a black snuffbox decorated with silver. 5) She was all dark, but she shone from the inside - through her eyes - with an unquenchable, cheerful and warm light. 6) She is stooped, almost hunchbacked, very plump, and she moved easily and deftly, like a big cat - she is also soft, just like this affectionate animal. 7) Before her, it was as if I was sleeping, hidden in the darkness, but she appeared, woke me up, brought me into the light, tied everything around me into a continuous thread, wove everything into multi-colored lace and immediately became a friend for life, the closest to my heart, the most an understandable and dear person - it was her selfless love for the world that enriched me, filling me with strong strength for a difficult life. M. Gorky 1Read expressively (Appendix 2) 2Determine what style of speech the text belongs to. Explain why you decided this. 3From the sentences of paragraph I (No. 1 – 6), choose a sentence in which there are two separate circumstances. The first is expressed by an adverbial phrase, the second by a noun with a preposition. 4 In sentence No. 4, indicate a separate definition expressed by a participial phrase. 5In paragraph I, indicate the sentence that contains isolated circumstance and a separate definition. 6 In sentence No. 7 (II paragraph), find a separate definition related to the personal pronoun. 7 In sentence No. 7, find a separate circumstance expressed by the adverbial phrase. help me please
Appendix 2
1) She spoke, singing the words in a special way, and they easily became stronger in my memory, like flowers, just as affectionate, bright, juicy. 2) When she smiled, her pupils, dark as cherries, dilated, flashing with an inexpressibly pleasant with light, a smile cheerfully revealed white, strong teeth, and, despite the many wrinkles in the dark skin of the cheeks, the whole face seemed young and bright. 3) This loose nose with swollen nostrils and red at the end spoiled her very much. 4) She sniffed tobacco from a black snuffbox decorated with silver. 5) She was all dark, but she shone from the inside - through her eyes - with an unquenchable, cheerful and warm light. 6) She is stooped, almost hunchbacked, very plump, and she moved easily and deftly, like a big cat - she is also soft, just like this affectionate animal.
7) Before her, it was as if I was sleeping, hidden in the darkness, but she appeared, woke me up, brought me into the light, tied everything around me into a continuous thread, wove everything into multi-colored lace and immediately became a friend for life, the closest to my heart, the most an understandable and dear person - it was her selfless love for the world that enriched me, filling me with strong strength for a difficult life.
M. Gorky
1Read expressively (Appendix 2)
2Determine what style of speech the text belongs to. Explain why you decided this.
3From the sentences of paragraph I (No. 1 – 6), choose a sentence in which there are two separate circumstances. The first is expressed by an adverbial phrase, the second by a noun with a preposition.
4 In sentence No. 4, indicate a separate definition expressed by a participial phrase.
5In paragraph I, indicate a sentence that contains a separate circumstance and a separate definition.
6 In sentence No. 7 (II paragraph) find a separate definition related to the personal pronoun
7 In sentence No. 7, find a separate circumstance expressed by an adverbial phrase.
help me please
1 answer 52 19 Feb 2018 1 rating
