Antipyretics for children are prescribed by a pediatrician. But there are emergency situations with fever when the child needs to be given medicine immediately. Then the parents take responsibility and use antipyretic drugs. What is allowed to be given to infants? How can you lower the temperature in older children? What medications are the safest?
The old raven's whole heart ached. They are exterminating the crow family: whoever is not too lazy, everyone beats it. And at least for the sake of profit, or just for fun. And the crow itself became faint-hearted. There is no mention of the former prophetic croaking; The crows will shower the birch tree in a crowd and shout in vain: “Here we are!” Naturally, now - poof! - and a dozen or two in the flock were gone. The old, free food was also gone. The forests all around were cut down, the swamps were dried up, the animals were driven away - there is no way to feed yourself honestly. Crows began to scurry around vegetable gardens, orchards, and farmyards. And for this again - poof! - and again a dozen or two in the flock were gone! It’s good that crows are fertile, otherwise who would pay tribute to a gyrfalcon, a hawk, or a golden eagle?
He, the old man, will begin to exhort his younger brothers: “Don’t croak in vain! Don’t fly through other people’s gardens!” - Yes, only one answer is heard: “You, old horseradish, don’t know anything about new things! It’s impossible, in today’s times, not to steal. And science says this: if you have nothing to eat, then dodge it. And everyone lives like this these days: they don’t get things done, they just dodge. Are we going to disappear? We'll get up somewhere before daylight, take off from our nests and search the whole forest - we can roll a ball everywhere. Not a wild berry, not a small bird, not a fallen animal. Even a worm burrowed into the ground.”
The old raven hears these speeches and thinks deeply. There were difficult times in his memory. For years, the crow family was haunted by lack of food; countless crows died. But then there was a rule: if you have claws, tear your chest with them, and don’t covet someone else’s piece! However, even then it was noticeable that the crow would not endure this school for long. Watching others live happily ever after, and voluntarily dying of hunger - this alone will make anyone’s heart aching.
And science, by the way, came to the rescue: bite what you can and where you can! If you manage to fill your goiter, fly in freedom, well-fed and cheerful; if it doesn’t work, hang shot in the garden instead of a scarecrow! That's what war is for.
When the old father brought him here, barely fledged, from distant seas, the place here was free. Forest and water - you can’t even glance at them. In the forest there are all kinds of berries, every animal, every bird - plenty of everything; the water was swarming with fish. Their boss then, as now, was a hawk, but the hawk of that time was fed up with himself, and he was simple, so simple that to this day there are jokes about his simplicity. True, he loved to feast on young crows, but even here he observed justice: today a crow will fly away from one nest, tomorrow from another, and if he sees that the poor nest has fallen, he will fly away without anything. And the taxes were not heavy then: an egg from a nest, a feather from a wing, and from every ten nests a crow for an eagle as a present. Serve your duty - and sleep on both ears.
But the further it went, the deeper and deeper everything changed. A man took a fancy to free places and began by using an ax. The forests thinned out, the swamps began to close in, and the river became shallow. First, settlements appeared along the river bank, then villages, hamlets, and landowners' estates. The sound of the ax echoed loudly in the depths of the forest, disrupting the normal course of life of animals and birds. The elders of the crow tribe already predicted that something evil was threatening, but a young crow circled around human dwellings with a cheerful croak, as if welcoming the newcomers. Young hearts are bored with the strict precepts of their ancestors; the depths of the forest are disgusted. It took something new, outlandish, unknown. Voronyo divided into parties; bickering, strife, discord began...
Simultaneously with these changes, changes occurred in the higher ornithological spheres. The old hawk was not up to the task. He could manage only under patriarchal orders, but when relations became more complicated, when new elements burst into the crow’s existence at every step, his administrative flair completely abandoned him. The main bosses called him an old cap; the crows challenged his authority and unceremoniously croaked all sorts of nonsense into his ears. He, instead of nipping evil at the very root, only batted his eyes benevolently and said jokingly: “Now, reform will come, you will know what Kuzka’s mother’s name is!” Finally, the expected reform has arrived. The old man was handed over to the archives, and instead they sent a very young hawk as his boss, and to help him, for greater control, they placed a gyrfalcon.
New leaders arrived and said an unmerciful word to the crow tribe. “I will bring you to the same denominator!” - the hawk pointed, and the gyrfalcon added: “Me too.” Having said this, they announced that from now on taxes will increase threefold compared to the previous one, they issued salary slips and flew away.
The final destruction began. The crow grumbled: “Unmerciful taxes were imposed, but new lands were not provided!” - was heard throughout the forest; but neither the hawk nor the gyrfalcon listened to the crow’s complaints and sent tailbones to catch the troublemakers, who in vain were sending empty speeches to the people. Many nests were then destroyed, many crows were taken captive and given to wolves and foxes to be devoured. They thought that the crow, frightened, would bring tribute on its tail. But the crows only darted about in fright and croaked pitifully: “At least cut, even shoot, but we have nowhere to get tribute from!” »
This is how it continues: the crows are going bankrupt, but the treasury is not filled. Whatever the crow gets on the side, the tailbone will be taken away along the way. In a word, it couldn't be worse. The crows decided to look for new places and sent flyers ahead for reconnaissance, but they flew away - they flew away, but did not return back. Maybe they got lost, maybe they crushed their tailbones along the way, or maybe they died of starvation on their own. And it’s a joke - you don’t know where to fly from your homes! There are no free places now! man has penetrated everywhere! And he felt cramped. Walks forward with an axe; The forests are groaning, the animals are running, and from morning to evening he uproots stumps, clears arable land, cuts down huts, and at night he shivers in his dugout from cold and hunger, waiting for someday all this bustle will come to order.
The old raven thought and thought and finally decided: “We must fly to declare the whole truth.” Only he is old and weak - will he make it? After all, flying is not a short journey. First you need to hit the hawk with your forehead, then the gyrfalcon, and finally the kite, which at that time ruled the crow tribe, sort of like the head of the region.
Birds, like people, have authorities everywhere; everywhere they will ask: “Did the hawk have one?” did you have a gyrfalcon?”, and if you weren’t, then you’ll become known as a rebel.
Finally, however, he left the nest early in the morning and flew away. He sees a hawk sitting on a tall, tall pine tree, already well-fed, and cleaning its beak with its claws.
Hello, old man! - the hawk greeted him complacently, - why did you come?
I flew to your lordship to announce the truth! - the old raven croaked hotly, - the crow family is dying! is dying! man destroys it, unmerciful tributes ruin it, their tailbones are tormented... The crow family is dying, but some are alive - and they have nothing to feed on.
That's how! Isn’t it because of your negligence that all these troubles have befallen the crow family?
You yourself know that there is no negligence in us. From morning to night we search and look at the stern. We live in labor, like an honest crow should live, but it has become impossible to get anything honestly.
The hawk thought for a minute, as if he did not dare to utter a real word, but finally said:
Dodge!
However, this solution did not satisfy, but only agitated the raven even more.
“I know that nowadays everyone lives in twisted ways,” he answered warmly, “but our crow family is easy for that.” Others steal millions, and everything is like water off a duck's back, but a crow steals a penny - she will die for it. Think about it, isn’t this a crime: for a penny you get death. And you still teach: “Dodge!” You were sent to us by the boss to protect us from insults, but you turned out to be the first destroyer and oppressor! How long will we endure? After all, if we...
The raven did not finish speaking and was frightened: it is not easy, apparently, to announce the truth.
But the hawk, as mentioned above, was full and looked at the uninvited guest complacently.
I know, don’t finish it,” he said, “we’ve been hearing this song for a long time, and while God was still merciful... But you still wind it up: you flew to me to tell me the truth, but at the very first word you stopped... Are you still said?
“That’s all for now,” answered the raven, continuing to be timid.
Well, I’ll answer you this: your truth has long been known to everyone; not only to you, the crows, but also to the tailbones, and the hawks, and the kites. But it doesn’t suit the court in our time, and therefore no matter how much you announce it, no matter how much you shout at all the crossroads, nothing will come of it. And when the time comes that she will appear on her own, no one knows yet. Understood?
I understood one thing: that the end of the crow family had come! - the raven answered bitterly.
Well, if you don’t understand, let’s talk. You say that man is destroying you - but how can we, birds, go against man? Man invented gunpowder - and how can we answer this? A man invented gunpowder and shoots at us; he does whatever he wants to do to us. We are just like men: they are being fired at from all sides. Either the railway goes down, then a new car, then there is a crop failure, then there is a new extortion. And they just know they turn over. How did it happen that Guboshlepov got the road, and after that they lost a hryvnia in their wallet - how can a dark person understand this? But the point is simple: Guboshlepov invented gunpowder, and men, like worms, only know how to dig in manure. And if you are a worm, then live as a worm should live. Even you, crow, don’t give the worm any treat - remember! that if he had raised an uproar at you, wouldn’t you have been the first to be surprised: “The worm, they say, crawls, but also talks!” That's it, old man! Whoever wins is right. Do you understand now?
Does that mean you have to die? Oh, what a cruel word you said! - the raven yearned.
Whether my word is cruel or not is not the point, but that I did not hide the truth from you. Not the truth that you are looking for, but the one that, at the present time, everyone should take into account. But let's continue the conversation. You say that your tailbones take away your food in flight, that I myself, the hawk, am destroying your nests, that we are not your protectors, but destroyers. Well: you want to feed - and we want to feed. If you were stronger, you would eat us, and we are stronger, we eat you. After all, this is also true. You told me your truth, and I told you mine; only my truth is fulfilled with my own eyes, and yours flies behind the clouds. Understood?
Perish! must die! - the old raven continued to repeat, almost unaware of the real meaning of the hawk's speeches, but instinctively feeling that they contained something unheard of cruelty.
The hawk looked the petitioner from head to tail, and since he was full, he wanted to joke about the old man.
If you want, I'll eat you! - he said; but, seeing that the raven instinctively took a leap back, he continued, “Oh, you!” you're skinny and old - what food is this! Come on, open your vest!
The raven spread his wings and was surprised: bones and skin, no down or feathers - the wolf is hungry, and he will not covet such a bird.
You see what you have become. And all because you think about the truth. If you lived like a crow, without thinking, what would you be like? However, it’s time to finish. You also complain that the unmerciful crows take taxes from you - and that’s true. But think about it: from whom should we take it? Sparrows, tits, siskins, finches - how much can they give? hazel grouse, wood grouse, little bustard, woodpeckers, cuckoos? - these live each on their own, you can’t find them even in the daylight. One crow lives in society, like real men, and, moreover, constantly proclaims about himself - is it any wonder that he ended up in revision fairy tales? And if you find yourself in revision fairy tales, hold on! If lately the fees have indeed become heavier than before, then it is necessary. There are more needs - and more fees: just ask anyone. That's it, old man. You spoke the truth, and I spoke the truth; and whose truth is stronger - your crow’s life answers this. Well, now fly home, but I want to take a nap.
However, the raven did not return home, but directed its flight towards the gyrfalcon.
“Come what may,” he thought, heavily flapping his senile wings, “and I will see it through to the end!” Even if the gyrfalcon does not accept my truth, then I will fly to the province to the kite itself, but I will not deviate from the truth!”
The gyrfalcon lived in the depression of a mountain gorge, and access to it was very difficult. The tailbone man on duty sat at the threshold of his home and received petitioners. This time the man on duty turned out to be Ivan Ivanovich, the tailbone known to the entire crow family, the favorite of the gyrfalcon (there were even rumors that he was his natural son), who entrusted him with the most important and secret matters. He was a dashing fellow, seemingly good-natured, with supportive and even refined manners. He wasn’t averse to fooling around, having fun somewhere behind a cloud, flying around the burners with tap-dancing girls, and even doing a favor for a friend; but all this complacency remained with him only as long as he was out of service. As soon as he began to perform his duties (especially secret assignments), he was instantly transformed. He became cold, stern and efficient to the point of cruelty. If they order him to overtake him, he will overtake him; If they order to strangle you, they will strangle you. If the bird is twice his size and stronger, he will fly up to it so head over heels that it begins to scream and rush about in anguish. In general, the birds that were in trouble with him trembled with fear at his very name.
Didn't wake up, old man? - Ivan Ivanovich ironically greeted the petitioner.
The old raven realized that everything was already known here. And birds have their own spies, through whom not only the actions, but also the secret thoughts of ordinary people are known.
What kind of sleep do old people have! - he answered evasively.
Have you come to announce the truth? - the tailbone continued, - well, yes, however, this is your business. Report?
Yes, do me such a favor.
Ivan Ivanovich ducked into the depression and remained there for about an hour. The raven, with bated breath, waited for his appearance. Finally he showed up.
I’ve been told to tell you,” he said, “that there’s no time to get along with you.” Your truth has been known to everyone from time immemorial, and, therefore, there is a defect in it if it does not manifest itself. You have a restless disposition, you make empty speeches to the people. We should have eaten you long ago for this, yes, listen, you are old, thin and weak. To the head of the region, tea, will you fly now?
No, really... - the raven wanted to hide.
Don't lock yourself in! I see right through you! Well, fly! just so they don’t peck out your eyes for your truth. - Look, don’t make a mistake! Come on, you don’t even know the road; you see, there is a cloud, there, above this very cloud - there it is.
Despite the tailbone's prediction, the raven decided to complete his petition. He climbed a long and roundabout way, spending the night in abandoned animal holes and soaking himself in berries that occasionally came across on the spurs of the mountains. Finally he crashed into a cloud, and a magical sight appeared before his eyes.
Several adjacent mountain peaks, covered with snow, glowed in the rays of the rising sun. From a distance it seemed like a fairy-tale castle, at the foot of which the clouds froze, and above, instead of a roof, stretched the endless blue sky.
The kite was sitting on a rock, surrounded by a whole mass of various birds. On his right side sat a white gyrfalcon, his assistant and adviser; officials of special assignments of all sorts tumbled at their feet: parrots, learned bullfinches and siskins; behind, a chorus of starlings reported the morning mail; off to the side, on a separate peak, owls, eagle owls and bats were dozing, forming something like a provincial council; Crows flashed in large numbers in the distance, with feathers behind their ears, scribbling decrees, instructions and reports and shouting: “Hot, hot! a penny a couple!”
The kite was an old man and his beak was barely creaking with age. At that moment when the raven landed at his feet, he had just had lunch and, half asleep, closed his eyes and shook his head, despite the deafening talk and noise. However, the appearance of the petitioner caused some commotion among the birds, thanks to which the kite perked up.
With a request, elder? - he asked the raven affectionately.
I flew from far away to announce the truth to your Majesty! - the raven began enthusiastically, but was immediately stopped by the gyrfalcon.
Don't use rhetoric! - the latter interrupted him coldly, - report the matter without embellishment, clearly, simply, point by point. What do you need?
The raven began to outline his petition point by point: man is destroying the raven race, he is harassing the tailbones, the hawk, the gyrfalcon, the unmerciful gatherings are ruining... And every time he finishes one point, the kite creaks its beak and says:
The truth is yours, elder!
The old raven’s heart beat in his chest at these confirmations. "Finally! - he thought, - I will see this truth, for which I have been yearning since childhood! I will serve my tribe, I will be jealous for it!” And the further his word flowed, the hotter and hotter it sounded. Finally he expressed everything that was in his soul and fell silent.
Have you said everything? - the kite asked him.
That’s it,” answered the raven.
Have you hit a hawk or a gyrfalcon with your forehead?
He was with them too.
He summarized his conversation with the hawk, as well as his failed tryst with the gyrfalcon.
So this is what I’ll tell you about your truth,” said the kite, “for more than two hundred years I have been sitting on this cliff and looking at the sun at least sideways... But until now I have never been able to look the Truth in the face.
But why? - The raven croaked in bewilderment.
But because the bird cannot accommodate it. If anyone thinks of himself that he has contained the truth, he must fulfill it; and we, therefore, cannot fulfill it - that’s why we look at it from under our brows. I think: “Perhaps she will pass by!”
Korshun thought for a minute and continued:
The hawk said a cruel word to you, but it was correct. The truth is good, but it is not good to listen to it at every time and not in every place. It may lead some into temptation, but to others it may seem like a reproach. Some people would be glad to serve the truth, but how can they approach it empty-handed! The truth is not a crow - you can’t grab it by the tail. Look around - everywhere there is discord, everywhere there is quarrel; no one can truly determine where and why he is going... That is why everyone refers to his personal truth. But the time will come when the limits within which its life must take place become clear to every breath - then the divisions will disappear by themselves, and with them all petty “personal truths” will dissipate like smoke. The real, united and binding Truth will be revealed; will come and the whole world will shine. And we will all live together and in love. That's it, old man! In the meantime, fly in peace and announce to the crow family that I trust in him, like a stone mountain.
Mikhail Evgrafovich Saltykov-Shchedrin
Raven petitioner
The old raven's whole heart ached. They are exterminating the crow family: whoever is not too lazy, everyone beats it. And at least for the sake of profit, or just for fun. And the crow itself became faint-hearted. There is no mention of the former prophetic croaking; The crows will shower the birch tree in a crowd and shout in vain: “Here we are!” Naturally, now - poof! - and a dozen or two in the flock were gone. The old, free food was also gone. The forests all around were cut down, the swamps were dried up, the animals were driven away - there is no way to feed yourself honestly. Crows began to scurry around vegetable gardens, orchards, and farmyards. And for this again - poof! - and again a dozen or two in the flock were gone! It’s good that crows are fertile, otherwise who would pay tribute to a gyrfalcon, a hawk, or a golden eagle?
He, the old man, will begin to exhort his younger brothers: “Don’t croak in vain! Don’t fly through other people’s gardens!” - Yes, only one answer is heard: “You, old horseradish, don’t know anything about new things! It’s impossible, in today’s times, not to steal. And science says this: if you have nothing to eat, then dodge it. And everyone lives like this these days: they don’t get things done, they just dodge. Are we going to disappear? We'll get up somewhere before daylight, take off from the nests and search the whole forest - we can roll a ball everywhere. Not a wild berry, not a small bird, not a fallen animal. Even a worm burrowed into the ground.”
The old raven hears these speeches and thinks deeply. There were difficult times in his memory. For years the crow family was haunted by lack of food; Without number, the crows died. But then there was a rule: if you have claws, tear your chest with them, and don’t covet someone else’s piece! However, even then it was noticeable that the crow would not endure this school for long. Watching others live happily ever after, and voluntarily dying of hunger - this alone will make anyone’s heart aching.
And science, by the way, came to the rescue: bite what you can and where you can! If you manage to fill your goiter, fly in freedom, well-fed and cheerful; if it doesn’t work, hang shot in the garden instead of a scarecrow. That's what war is for.
When the old father brought him here, barely fledged, from far away seas, the place here was free. Forest and water - you can’t even glance at them. In the forest there are all kinds of berries, every animal, every bird - plenty of everything; the water was swarming with fish. Their boss then, as now, was a hawk, but the hawk of that time was fed up with himself, and he was simple, so simple that to this day there are jokes about his simplicity. True, he loved to feast on young crows, but even here he observed justice: today a crow will fly away from one nest, tomorrow from another; and if he sees that the nest is poor and fallen, it will fly away without anything. And the taxes were not heavy then: an egg from a nest, a feather from a wing, and from every ten nests a crow for an eagle as a present. Serve your duty - and sleep on both ears.
But the further it went, the deeper and deeper everything changed. A man took a fancy to free places and began by using an ax. The forests thinned out, the swamps began to close in, and the river became shallow. First, settlements appeared along the river bank, then villages, hamlets, and landowners' estates. The sound of the ax echoed loudly in the depths of the forest, disrupting the normal course of life of animals and birds. The elders of the crow tribe already predicted that something evil was threatening, but a young crow circled around human dwellings with a cheerful croak, as if welcoming the newcomers. Young hearts are bored with the strict precepts of their ancestors; the depths of the forest are disgusted. It took something new, outlandish, unknown. Voronyo divided into parties; bickering, strife, discord began...
Simultaneously with these changes, changes occurred in the higher ornithological spheres. The old hawk was not up to the task. He could manage only under patriarchal orders, but when relations became more complicated, when new elements burst into the crow’s existence at every step, his administrative flair completely abandoned him. The main bosses called him an old cap; the crows challenged his authority and unceremoniously croaked all sorts of nonsense into his ears. He, instead of nipping evil at the very root, only batted his eyes benevolently and said jokingly: “Now, reform will come, you will know what Kuzka’s mother’s name is!” Finally, the expected reform has arrived. The old man was handed over to the archives, and instead they sent a very young hawk as his boss, and to help him, for greater control, they placed a gyrfalcon.
New leaders arrived and said an unmerciful word to the crow tribe. “I will bring you to the same denominator!” - “the hawk pointed, and the gyrfalcon added: “Me too.” Having said this, they announced that from now on taxes will increase threefold compared to the previous one, they issued salary slips and flew away.
The final destruction began. The crow grumbled: “Unmerciful taxes were imposed, but new lands were not provided!” - was heard throughout the forest; but neither the hawk nor the gyrfalcon listened to the crow’s complaints and sent tailbones to catch the troublemakers, who in vain were sending empty speeches to the people. Many nests were then destroyed, many crows were taken captive and given to wolves and foxes to be devoured. They thought that the crow, frightened, would bring tribute on its tail. But the crows only darted about in fright and croaked pitifully: “At least cut, just shoot, but we have nowhere to get tribute from!”
This is how it continues: the crows are going bankrupt, but the treasury is not filled. Whatever the crow gets on the side, the tailbone will be taken away along the way. In a word, it couldn't be worse. The crows decided to look for new places and sent flyers ahead for reconnaissance, but they flew away - they flew away, but did not return back. Maybe they got lost, maybe they crushed their tailbones along the way, or maybe they died of starvation on their own. And it’s a joke - you don’t know where to fly from your homes! There are no free places now! man has penetrated everywhere! And he felt cramped. Walks forward with an axe; The forests are groaning, the animals are running, and from morning to evening he uproots stumps, clears arable land, cuts down huts, and at night he shivers in his dugout from cold and hunger, waiting for someday all this bustle will come to order.
The old raven thought and thought and finally decided: “We must fly to declare the whole truth.” Only he is old and weak - will he make it? After all, flying is not a short journey. First you need to hit the hawk with your forehead, then the gyrfalcon, and finally the kite, which at that time ruled the crow tribe, sort of like the head of the region.
Birds, like people, have authorities everywhere; everywhere they will ask: “Did the hawk have one?” did you have a gyrfalcon?”, and if you weren’t, then you’ll become known as a rebel.
Finally, however, he left the nest early in the morning and flew away. He sees a hawk sitting on a tall, tall pine tree, already well-fed, and cleaning its beak with its claws.
Hello, old man! - the hawk greeted him complacently, - why did you come?
I flew to your lordship to announce the truth! - the old raven croaked hotly, - the crow family is dying! is dying! man destroys it, the unmerciful tributes ruin it, the tailbones are tormented... The crow family is dying, but some are alive - and they have nothing to feed on.
That's how! Isn’t it because of your negligence that all these troubles have befallen the crow family?
You yourself know that there is no negligence in us. From morning to night we search and look at the stern. We live in labor, like an honest crow should live, but it has become impossible to get anything honestly.
The hawk thought for a minute, as if he did not dare to utter a real word, but finally said:
Dodge!
However, this solution did not satisfy, but only agitated the raven even more.
“I know that nowadays everyone lives in twisted ways,” he answered warmly, “but our crow family is easy for that.” Others steal millions, and everything is like water off a duck's back, but a crow steals a penny - she will die for it. Think about it, isn’t this a crime: for a penny you get death. And you still teach: “Dodge!” You were sent to us by the boss to protect us from insults, but you turned out to be the first destroyer and oppressor! How long will we endure? After all, if we...
The raven did not finish speaking and was frightened: it is not easy, apparently, to announce the truth.
But the hawk, as mentioned above, was full and looked at the uninvited guest complacently.
I know, don’t finish it,” he said, “we’ve been hearing this song for a long time, and while God was still merciful... But you still wind it up: you flew to me to tell me the truth, but at the very first word you stopped... Are you still said?
“That’s all for now,” answered the raven, continuing to be timid.
Well, I’ll answer you this: your truth has long been known to everyone; not only to you, the crows, but also to the tailbones, and the hawks, and the kites. But it doesn’t suit the court in our time, and therefore no matter how much you announce it, even shout at all the crossroads, nothing will come of it. And when the time comes that she will appear on her own, no one knows yet. Understood?
I understood one thing: that the end of the crow family had come! - the raven answered bitterly.
Well, if you don’t understand, let’s talk. You say that man is destroying you, but how can we, birds, go against man? Man invented gunpowder - and how can we answer this? Man invented gunpowder and shoots at us, whatever he wants, he does to us. We are like men: they are being fired at from all sides. Either the railway goes down, then a new car, then there is a crop failure, then there is a new extortion. And they just know they turn over. Somehow it happened that Guboshlepov got the way, and after that they lost a hryvnia in their wallet - how can a dark person understand this? But the point is simple: Guboshlepov invented gunpowder, and men, like worms, only know how to dig in manure. And if you are a worm, then live as a worm should live. Even you, crow, don’t give the worm any treat - remember! that if he had raised an uproar at you, wouldn’t you have been the first to be surprised: “The worm, they say, crawls, but also talks!” That's it, old man! Whoever wins is right. Do you understand now?
Raven-petitioner The Tale of Saltykov-Shchedrin read
The old raven's whole heart ached. They are exterminating the crow family: whoever is not too lazy, everyone beats it. And at least for the sake of profit, or just for fun. And the crow itself became faint-hearted. There is no mention of the former prophetic croaking; The crows will shower the birch tree in a crowd and shout in vain: “Here we are!” Naturally, now - poof! - and a dozen or two in the flock were gone. The old, free food was also gone. The forests all around were cut down, the swamps were dried up, the animals were driven away - there is no way to feed yourself honestly. Crows began to scurry around vegetable gardens, orchards, and farmyards. And for this again - poof! - and again a dozen or two in the flock were gone! It’s good that crows are fertile, otherwise who would pay tribute to a gyrfalcon, a hawk, or a golden eagle?
He, the old man, will begin to exhort his younger brothers: “Don’t croak in vain! Don’t fly through other people’s gardens!” - Yes, only one answer is heard: “You, old bastard, don’t understand anything about new things! It’s impossible, at the present time, not to steal. And in science it says: if you have nothing to eat, then get out of it. And everyone lives like that now: business They don't do it, but they dodge it. Are we going to disappear? We'll get up somewhere before daylight, take off from our nests and search the whole forest - we can roll a ball everywhere. Not a forest berry, not a small bird, not a fallen animal. Even a worm, and that buried in the ground."
The old raven hears these speeches and thinks deeply. There were difficult times in his memory. For years, the crow family was haunted by lack of food; countless crows died. But then there was a rule: if you have claws, tear your chest with them, and don’t covet someone else’s piece! However, even then it was noticeable that the crow would not endure this school for long. Watching others live happily ever after, and voluntarily dying of hunger - this alone will make anyone’s heart aching.
And science, by the way, came to the rescue: bite what you can and where you can! If you manage to fill your goiter, fly in freedom, well-fed and cheerful; if it doesn’t work, hang shot in the garden instead of a scarecrow! That's what war is for.
When the old father brought him here, barely fledged, from distant seas, the place here was free. Forest and water - you can’t even glance at them. In the forest there are all kinds of berries, every animal, every bird - plenty of everything; the water was swarming with fish. Their boss then, as now, was a hawk, but the hawk of that time was fed up with himself, and he was simple, so simple that to this day there are jokes about his simplicity. True, he loved to feast on young crows, but even here he observed justice: today a crow will fly away from one nest, tomorrow from another, and if he sees that the poor nest has fallen, he will fly away without anything. And the taxes were not heavy then: an egg from a nest, a feather from a wing, and from every ten nests a crow for an eagle as a present. Serve your duty - and sleep on both ears.
But the further it went, the deeper and deeper everything changed. A man took a fancy to free places and began by using an ax. The forests thinned out, the swamps began to close in, and the river became shallow. First, settlements appeared along the river bank, then villages, hamlets, and landowners' estates. The sound of the ax echoed loudly in the depths of the forest, disrupting the normal course of life of animals and birds. The elders of the crow tribe already predicted that something evil was threatening, but a young crow circled around human dwellings with a cheerful croak, as if welcoming the newcomers. Young hearts are bored with the strict precepts of their ancestors; the depths of the forest are disgusted. It took something new, outlandish, unknown. Voronyo divided into parties; bickering, strife, discord began...
Simultaneously with these changes, changes occurred in the higher ornithological spheres. The old hawk was not up to the task. He could manage only under patriarchal orders, but when relations became more complicated, when new elements burst into the crow’s existence at every step, his administrative flair completely abandoned him. The main bosses called him an old cap; the crows challenged his authority and unceremoniously croaked all sorts of nonsense into his ears. He, instead of nipping evil at the very root, only batted his eyes benevolently and jokingly said: “Now, reform will come, you will know what Kuzka’s mother’s name is!” Finally, the expected reform has arrived. The old man was handed over to the archives, and instead they sent a very young hawk as his boss, and to help him, for greater control, they placed a gyrfalcon.
New leaders arrived and said an unmerciful word to the crow tribe. "I will bring you to the same denominator!" - the hawk pointed, and the gyrfalcon added: “Me too.” Having said this, they announced that from now on taxes will increase threefold compared to the previous one, they issued salary slips and flew away.
The final destruction began. The crow grumbled: “Unmerciful taxes were imposed, but new lands were not provided!” - was heard throughout the forest; but neither the hawk nor the gyrfalcon listened to the crow’s complaints and sent tailbones to catch the troublemakers, who in vain were sending empty speeches to the people. Many nests were then destroyed, many crows were taken captive and given to wolves and foxes to be devoured. They thought that the crow, frightened, would bring tribute on its tail. But the crows only darted about in fright and croaked pitifully: “At least cut, even shoot, but we have nowhere to get tribute from!”
This is how it continues: the crows are going bankrupt, but the treasury is not filled. Whatever the crow gets on the side, the tailbone will be taken away along the way. In a word, it couldn't be worse. The crows decided to look for new places and sent flyers ahead for reconnaissance, but they flew away and did not return. Maybe they got lost, maybe they crushed their tailbones along the way, or maybe they died of starvation on their own. And it’s a joke - you don’t know where to fly from your homes! There are no free places now! man has penetrated everywhere! And he felt cramped. Walks forward with an axe; The forests are groaning, the animals are running, and from morning to evening he uproots stumps, clears arable land, cuts down huts, and at night he shivers in his dugout from cold and hunger, waiting for someday all this bustle will come to order.
The old raven thought and thought and finally decided: “We must fly to declare the whole truth.” Only he is old and weak - will he make it? After all, flying is not a short journey. First you need to hit the hawk with your forehead, then the gyrfalcon, and finally the kite, which at that time ruled the crow tribe, sort of like the head of the region.
Birds, like people, have authorities everywhere; Everywhere they will ask: “Did you have a hawk? Did you have a gyrfalcon?”
Finally, however, he left the nest early in the morning and flew away. He sees a hawk sitting on a tall, tall pine tree, already well-fed, and cleaning its beak with its claws.
Hello, old man! - the hawk greeted him complacently, - why did you come?
I flew to your lordship to announce the truth! - the old raven croaked hotly, - the crow family is dying! is dying! man exterminates it, unmerciful tributes ruin it, their tailbones are tormented... The crow family is dying, but some are alive - and they have nothing to feed on.
That's how! Isn’t it because of your negligence that all these troubles have befallen the crow family?
You yourself know that there is no negligence in us. From morning to night we search and look at the stern. We live in labor, like an honest crow should live, but it has become impossible to get anything honestly.
The hawk thought for a minute, as if he did not dare to utter a real word, but finally said:
Dodge!
However, this solution did not satisfy, but only agitated the raven even more.
“I know that nowadays everyone lives in twisted ways,” he answered warmly, “but our crow family is easy for that.” Others steal millions, and everything is like water off a duck's back, but a crow steals a penny - she will die for it. Think about it, isn’t this a crime: for a penny you get death. And you still teach: “dodge!” You were sent to us by the boss to protect us from insults, but you turned out to be the first destroyer and oppressor! How long will we endure? After all, if we...
The raven did not finish speaking and was frightened: it is not easy, apparently, to announce the truth.
But the hawk, as mentioned above, was full and looked at the uninvited guest complacently.
I know, don’t finish it,” he said, “we’ve been hearing this song for a long time, and while God was still merciful... But you still screw it up: you flew to me to tell me the truth, but at the very first word you faltered... Have you said everything?
“That’s all for now,” answered the raven, continuing to be timid.
Well, I’ll answer you this: your truth has long been known to everyone; not only to you, the crows, but also to the tailbones, and the hawks, and the kites. But it doesn’t suit the court in our time, and therefore no matter how much you announce it, no matter how much you shout at all the crossroads, nothing will come of it. And when the time comes that she will appear on her own, no one knows yet. Understood?
I understood one thing: that the end of the crow family had come! - the raven answered bitterly.
Well, if you don’t understand, let’s talk. You say that man is destroying you - but how can we, birds, go against man? Man invented gunpowder - and how can we answer this? Man invented gunpowder and shoots at us, whatever he wants, he does to us. We are just like men: they are being fired at from all sides. Either the railway goes down, then a new car, then there is a crop failure, then there is a new extortion. And they just know they turn over. How did it happen that Guboshlepov got the road, and after that they lost a hryvnia in their wallet - how can a dark person understand this? But the point is simple: Guboshlepov invented gunpowder, and men, like worms, only know how to dig in manure. And if you are a worm, then live as a worm should live. Even you, crow, don’t give the worm any treat - remember! that if he had raised an uproar at you, wouldn’t you have been the first to be surprised: “The worm, they say, crawls, but also talks!” That's it, old man! Whoever wins is right. Do you understand now?
Does that mean you have to die? Oh, what a cruel word you said! - the raven yearned.
Whether my word is cruel or not is not the point, but that I did not hide the truth from you. Not the truth that you are looking for, but the one that, at the present time, everyone should take into account. But let's continue the conversation. You say that your tailbones take away your food in flight, that I myself, the hawk, am destroying your nests, that we are not your protectors, but destroyers. Well: you want to feed - and we want to feed. If you were stronger, you would eat us, and we are stronger, we eat you. After all, this is also true. You told me your truth, and I told you mine; only my truth is fulfilled with my own eyes, and yours flies behind the clouds. Understood?
Perish! must die! - the old raven continued to repeat, almost unaware of the real meaning of the hawk's speeches, but instinctively feeling that they contained something unheard of cruelty.
The hawk looked the petitioner from head to tail, and since he was full, he wanted to joke about the old man.
If you want, I'll eat you! - he said; but, seeing that the raven instinctively took a leap back, he continued, “Oh, you!” you're skinny and old - what food is this! Come on, open your vest!
The raven spread his wings and was surprised: bones and skin, no down or feathers - the wolf is hungry, and he will not covet such a bird.
You see what you have become. And all because you think about the truth. If you lived like a crow, without thinking, what would you be like? However, it’s time to finish. You also complain that the unmerciful crows take taxes from you - and that’s true. But think about it: from whom should we take it? Sparrows, tits, siskins, finches - how much can they give? hazel grouse, wood grouse, little bustard, woodpeckers, cuckoos? - these live each on their own, you can’t find them even in the daylight. One crow lives in society, like real men, and, moreover, constantly proclaims about himself - is it surprising that he ended up in revision fairy tales? And if you find yourself in revision fairy tales, hold on! If lately the fees have indeed become heavier than before, then it is necessary. There are more needs - and more fees: just ask anyone. That's it, old man. You spoke the truth, and I spoke the truth; and whose truth is stronger - your crow’s life answers this. Well, now fly home, but I want to take a nap.
However, the raven did not return home, but directed its flight towards the gyrfalcon.
“Come what may,” he thought, heavily flapping his senile wings, “and I will see the matter through to the end! If even the gyrfalcon does not accept my truth, then I will fly to the province to the kite itself, but I will not give up the truth!”
The gyrfalcon lived in the depression of a mountain gorge, and access to it was very difficult. The tailbone man on duty sat at the threshold of his home and received petitioners. This time the man on duty turned out to be Ivan Ivanovich, the tailbone known to the entire crow family, the favorite of the gyrfalcon (there were even rumors that he was his natural son), who entrusted him with the most important and secret matters. He was a dashing fellow, seemingly good-natured, with supportive and even refined manners. He wasn’t averse to fooling around, having fun somewhere behind a cloud, flying around the burners with tap-dancing girls, and even doing a favor for a friend; but all this complacency remained with him only as long as he was out of service. As soon as he began to perform his duties (especially secret assignments), he was instantly transformed. He became cold, stern and efficient to the point of cruelty. If they order him to overtake him, he will overtake him; If they order to strangle you, they will strangle you. If the bird is twice his size and stronger, he will fly up to it so head over heels that it begins to scream and rush about in anguish. In general, the birds that were in trouble with him trembled with fear at his very name.
Didn't wake up, old man? - Ivan Ivanovich ironically greeted the petitioner.
The old raven realized that everything was already known here. And birds have their own spies, through whom not only the actions, but also the secret thoughts of ordinary people are known.
What kind of sleep do old people have! - he answered evasively.
Have you come to announce the truth? - the tailbone continued, - well, yes, however, this is your business. Report?
Yes, do me such a favor.
Ivan Ivanovich ducked into the depression and remained there for about an hour. The raven, with bated breath, waited for his appearance. Finally he showed up.
I’ve been told to tell you,” he said, “that there’s no time to get along with you.” Your truth has been known to everyone from time immemorial, and, therefore, there is a defect in it if it does not manifest itself. You have a restless disposition, you make empty speeches to the people. We should have eaten you long ago for this, yes, listen, you are old, thin and weak. To the head of the region, tea, will you fly now?
No, really... - the raven wanted to hide.
Don't lock yourself in! I see right through you! Well, fly! just so they don’t peck out your eyes for your truth. - Look, don’t make a mistake! Come on, you don’t even know the road; you see, there is a cloud, there, above this very cloud - there it is.
Despite the coccyx's prediction, the raven decided to complete his petition. He climbed a long and roundabout way, spending the night in abandoned animal holes and soaking himself in berries that occasionally came across on the spurs of the mountains. Finally he crashed into a cloud, and a magical sight appeared before his eyes.
Several adjacent mountain peaks, covered with snow, glowed in the rays of the rising sun. From a distance it seemed like a fairy-tale castle, at the foot of which the clouds froze, and above, instead of a roof, stretched the endless blue sky.
The kite was sitting on a rock, surrounded by a whole mass of various birds. On his right side sat a white gyrfalcon, his assistant and adviser; officials of special assignments of all sorts tumbled at their feet: parrots, learned bullfinches and siskins; behind, a chorus of starlings reported the morning mail; off to the side, on a separate peak, owls, eagle owls and bats were dozing, forming something like a provincial council; Crows flashed in large numbers in the distance, with feathers behind their ears, scribbling decrees, instructions and reports and shouting: “In the heat, in the heat! A piglet a pair!”
The kite was an old man and his beak was barely creaking with age. At that moment when the raven landed at his feet, he had just had lunch and, half asleep, closed his eyes and shook his head, despite the deafening talk and noise. However, the appearance of the petitioner caused some commotion among the birds, thanks to which the kite perked up.
With a request, elder? - he asked the raven affectionately.
I flew from far away to announce the truth to your Majesty! - the raven began enthusiastically, but was immediately stopped by the gyrfalcon.
Don't use rhetoric! - the latter interrupted him coldly, - report the matter without embellishment, clearly, simply, point by point. What do you need?
The raven began to explain his petition point by point: man is destroying the raven race, he is harassing tailbones, hawks, gyrfalcons, unmerciful gatherings are ruining... And every time he finishes one point, the kite creaks its beak and says:
The truth is yours, elder!
The old raven's heart beat in his chest at these confirmations. “Finally!” he thought, “I will see this truth, for which I have been yearning since childhood! I will serve my tribe, zealous for it!” And the further his word flowed, the hotter and hotter it sounded. Finally he expressed everything that was in his soul and fell silent.
Have you said everything? - the kite asked him.
That’s it,” answered the raven.
Have you hit a hawk or a gyrfalcon with your forehead?
He was with them too.
He summarized his conversation with the hawk, as well as his failed tryst with the gyrfalcon.
So this is what I’ll tell you about your truth,” said the kite, “for more than two hundred years I have been sitting on this cliff and looking sideways at the sun... But until now I have never been able to look the truth in the face.
But why? - The raven croaked in bewilderment.
But because the bird cannot accommodate it. If anyone thinks of himself that he has contained the truth, he must fulfill it; and we, therefore, cannot fulfill it - that’s why we look at it from under our brows. One thinks: “Perhaps she will pass by!”
The kite thought for a minute and continued: “The hawk said a cruel word to you, but it was correct.” The truth is good, but it is not good to listen to it at every time and not in every place. It may lead some into temptation, but to others it may seem like a reproach. Some people would be glad to serve the truth, but how can they approach it empty-handed! The truth is not a crow - you can’t grab it by the tail. Look around - everywhere there is discord, everywhere there is quarrel; no one can truly determine where and why he is going... That is why everyone refers to his personal truth. But the time will come when the limits within which its life must take place become clear to every breath - then the divisions will disappear by themselves, and with them all petty “personal truths” will dissipate like smoke. The real, united and binding Truth will be revealed; will come and the whole world will shine. And we will all live together and in love. That's it, old man! In the meantime, fly in peace and announce to the crow family that I trust in him, like in a stone mountain.
Dear parents, it is very useful to read the fairy tale “The Petitioner Raven” by M. E. Saltykov-Shchedrin to children before bed, so that the good ending of the fairy tale pleases and calms them and they fall asleep. The works often use diminutive descriptions of nature, thereby making the picture presented even more intense. Folk legend cannot lose its vitality, due to the inviolability of such concepts as friendship, compassion, courage, bravery, love and sacrifice. Despite the fact that all fairy tales are fantasy, they often retain logic and a sequence of events. Thanks to children's developed imagination, they quickly revive colorful pictures of the world around them in their imagination and fill in the gaps with their visual images. There is a balancing act between the bad and the good, the tempting and the necessary, and how wonderful it is that every time the choice is correct and responsible. Often in children's works, the personal qualities of the hero, his resistance to evil, constantly trying to lead the good fellow astray from the right path, become central. The fairy tale “The Raven Petitioner” by M. E. Saltykov-Shchedrin can be read for free online countless times without losing your love and desire for this creation.
The old raven's heart ached. They are exterminating the crow family: whoever is not too lazy, everyone beats it. And at least for the sake of profit, or just for fun. And the crow itself became faint-hearted. There is no mention of the former prophetic croaking; The crows will shower the birch tree in a crowd and shout in vain: “Here we are!” Naturally, now - poof! - and a dozen or two in the flock were gone. The old, free food was also gone. The forests all around were cut down, the swamps were dried up, the animals were driven away - there is no way to earn an honest living. Crows began to scurry around vegetable gardens, orchards, and farmyards. And for this again - poof! - and again a dozen or two in the flock were gone! It’s good that crows are fertile, otherwise who would pay tribute to a gyrfalcon, a hawk, or a golden eagle?
He, the old man, will begin to exhort his younger brothers: “Don’t croak in vain! Don’t fly through other people’s gardens!” - Yes, only one answer is heard: “You, old horseradish, don’t know anything about new things! It’s impossible, in today’s times, not to steal. And science says this: if you have nothing to eat, then dodge it. And everyone lives like this these days: they don’t get things done, they just dodge. Are we going to disappear? We'll get up somewhere before daylight, take off from the nests and search the whole forest - we can roll a ball everywhere. Not a wild berry, not a small bird, not a fallen animal. Even a worm burrowed into the ground.”
The old raven hears these speeches and thinks deeply. There were difficult times in his memory. For years the crow family was haunted by lack of food; Without number, the crows died. But then there was a rule: if you have claws, tear your chest with them, and don’t covet someone else’s piece! However, even then it was noticeable that the crow would not endure this school for long. Watching others live happily ever after, and voluntarily dying of hunger - this alone will make anyone’s heart aching.
And science, by the way, came to the rescue: bite what you can and where you can! If you manage to fill your goiter, fly in freedom, well-fed and cheerful; if it doesn’t work, hang shot in the garden instead of a scarecrow. That's what war is for.
When the old father brought him here, barely fledged, from far away seas, the place here was free. Forest and water - you can’t even glance at them. In the forest there are all kinds of berries, every animal, every bird - in abundance; the water was swarming with fish. Their boss then, as now, was a hawk, but the hawk of that time was fed up with himself, and he was simple, so simple that to this day there are jokes about his simplicity. True, he loved to feast on young crows, but even here he observed justice: today a crow will fly away from one nest, tomorrow from another; and if he sees that the nest is poor and fallen, it will fly away without anything. And the taxes were not heavy then: an egg from a nest, a feather from a wing, and from every ten nests a crow for an eagle as a present. Serve your duty and sleep on both ears.
But the further it went, the deeper and deeper everything changed. A man took a fancy to free places and began by using an ax. The forests thinned out, the swamps began to close in, and the river became shallow. First, settlements appeared along the river bank, then villages, hamlets, and landowners' estates. The sound of the ax echoed loudly in the depths of the forest, disrupting the normal course of life of animals and birds. The elders of the crow tribe already predicted that something evil was threatening, but a young crow circled around human dwellings with a cheerful croak, as if welcoming the newcomers. Young hearts are bored with the strict precepts of their ancestors; the depths of the forest are disgusted. It took something new, outlandish, unknown. Voronyo divided into parties; bickering, strife, discord began...
Simultaneously with these changes, changes occurred in the higher ornithological spheres. The old hawk was not up to the task. He could manage only under patriarchal orders, but when relations became more complicated, when new elements burst into the crow’s existence at every step, his administrative flair completely abandoned him. The main bosses called him an old cap; the crows challenged his authority and unceremoniously croaked all sorts of nonsense into his ears. He, instead of nipping evil at the very root, only batted his eyes benevolently and said jokingly: “Now, reform will come, you will know what Kuzka’s mother’s name is!” Finally, the expected reform has arrived. The old man was handed over to the archives, and instead they sent a very young hawk as his boss, and to help him, for greater control, they placed a gyrfalcon.
New leaders arrived and said an unmerciful word to the crow tribe. “I will bring you to the same denominator!” - “the hawk pointed, and the gyrfalcon added: “Me too.” Having said this, they announced that from now on taxes will increase threefold compared to the previous one, they issued salary slips and flew away.
The final destruction began. The crow grumbled: “Unmerciful taxes were imposed, but new lands were not provided!” - was heard throughout the forest; but neither the hawk nor the gyrfalcon listened to the crow’s complaints and sent tailbones to catch the troublemakers, who in vain were sending empty speeches to the people. Many nests were then destroyed, many crows were taken captive and given to wolves and foxes to be devoured. They thought that the crow, frightened, would bring tribute on its tail. But the crows only darted about in fright and croaked pitifully: “At least cut, just shoot, but we have nowhere to get tribute from!”
This is how it continues: the crows are going bankrupt, but the treasury is not filled. Whatever the crow gets on the side, the tailbone will be taken away along the way. In a word, it couldn't be worse. The crows decided to look for new places and sent flyers ahead for reconnaissance, but they flew away - they flew away, but did not return. Maybe they got lost, maybe they crushed their tailbones along the way, or maybe they died of starvation on their own. And it’s a joke - you don’t know where to fly from your homes! There are no free places now! man has penetrated everywhere! And he felt cramped. Walks forward with an axe; The forests are groaning, the animals are running, and from morning to evening he uproots stumps, clears arable land, cuts down huts, and at night he shivers in his dugout from cold and hunger, waiting for someday all this bustle will come to order.
The old raven thought and thought and finally decided: “We must fly to declare the whole truth.” Only he is old and weak - will he make it? After all, flying is not a short journey. First you need to hit the hawk with your forehead, then the gyrfalcon, and finally the kite, which at that time ruled the crow tribe, sort of like the head of the region.
Birds, like people, have authorities everywhere; everywhere they will ask: “Did the hawk have one?” did you have a gyrfalcon?”, and if you weren’t, then you’ll become known as a rebel.
Finally, however, he left the nest early in the morning and flew away. He sees a hawk sitting on a tall, tall pine tree, already well-fed, and cleaning its beak with its claws.
- Hello, elder! - the hawk greeted him complacently, - why did you come?
“I flew to your lordship to announce the truth!” - the old raven croaked hotly, - the crow family is perishing! is dying! man exterminates it, unmerciful tributes ruin it, their tailbones are tormented... The crow family is dying, but some are still alive - and they have nothing to feed themselves.
- That's how it is! Isn’t it because of your negligence that all these troubles have befallen the crow family?
“You yourself know that there is no negligence in us.” From morning to night we search and look at the stern. We live in labor, like an honest crow should live, but it has become impossible to get anything honestly.
The hawk thought for a minute, as if he did not dare to utter a real word, but finally said:
- Dodge!
However, this solution did not satisfy, but only agitated the raven even more.
“I know that nowadays everyone lives in twisted ways,” he answered warmly, “but our crow family is simple about that.” Others steal millions, and everything is like water off a duck's back, but a crow steals a penny - she will die for it. Think about it, isn’t this a crime: for a penny you get death. And you still teach: “Dodge!” You were sent to us by the boss to protect us from insults, but you turned out to be the first destroyer and oppressor! How long will we endure? After all, if we...
The raven did not finish speaking and was frightened: it is not easy, apparently, to announce the truth.
But the hawk, as mentioned above, was full and looked at the uninvited guest complacently.
“I know, don’t finish it,” he said, “we’ve been hearing this song for a long time, and while God was still merciful... But you still wind it up: you flew to me to tell me the truth, but at the very first word you stopped... Is that all?” You said?
“That’s all for now,” answered the raven, continuing to be timid.
“Well, I’ll answer you this: your truth has long been known to everyone; not only to you, the crows, but also to the tailbones, and the hawks, and the kites. But it doesn’t suit the court in our time, and therefore no matter how much you announce it, even shout at all the crossroads, nothing will come of it. And when the time comes that she will appear on her own, no one knows yet. Understood?
“I understood one thing: that the end of the crow family has come!” - the raven answered bitterly.
- Well, if you don’t understand, let’s talk. You say that man is destroying you, but how can we, birds, go against man? Man invented gunpowder - and how can we answer this? Man invented gunpowder and shoots at us, whatever he wants, he does to us. We are like men: they are being fired at from all sides. Either the railway goes down, then a new car, then there is a crop failure, then there is a new extortion. And they just know they turn over. Somehow it happened that Guboshlepov got the way, and after that they lost a hryvnia in their wallet - how can a dark person understand this? But the point is simple: Guboshlepov invented gunpowder, and men, like worms, only know how to dig in manure. And if you are a worm, then live as a worm should live. Even you, crow, don’t give the worm any treat - remember! that if he had raised an uproar at you, wouldn’t you have been the first to be surprised: “The worm, they say, crawls, but also talks!” That's it, old man! Whoever wins is right. Do you understand now?
- So you have to die? Oh, what a cruel word you said! - the raven yearned.
“Whether my word is cruel or not is not the point, but the point is that I didn’t hide the truth from you.” Not the truth that you are looking for, but the one that, at the present time, everyone should take into account. But let's continue the conversation. You say that your tailbones take away your food in flight, that I myself, the hawk, am destroying your nests, that we are not your protectors, but destroyers. Well: you want to feed - and we want to feed. If you were stronger, you would eat us, and we are stronger, we eat you. After all, this is also true. You told me your truth, and I told you mine; only my truth is fulfilled with my own eyes, and yours flies behind the clouds. Understood?
- You must die, you must die! - the old raven continued to repeat, almost unaware of the real meaning of Hawk's speeches, but instinctively feeling that they contained something unheard of cruelty.
The hawk looked the petitioner from head to tail, and since he was full, he wanted to joke about the old man.
- If you want, I’ll eat you! - he said; but, seeing that the raven instinctively took a leap back, he continued, “Oh, you!” you are skinny and old - what food this is! Come on, open your vest!
The raven spread his wings and was surprised: bones and skin, no down or feathers - the wolf is hungry, and he will not covet such a bird.
“You see what you have become.” And all because you think about the truth. If you lived like a crow, without thinking, what would you be like? However, it’s time to finish. You also complain that the unmerciful crows take taxes from you, and that’s true. But think about it: from whom should we take it? Sparrows, tits, siskins, finches - how much can they give? hazel grouse, wood grouse, little bustard, woodpeckers, cuckoos? - these live each on their own, you can’t find them even during the day. One crow lives in society, like real men, and, moreover, constantly proclaims about himself - is it surprising that he ended up in revision fairy tales? And if you find yourself in revision fairy tales, hold on! If lately the fees have indeed become heavier than before, then it is necessary. There are more needs and more fees: just ask anyone. That's it, old man. You spoke the truth, and I spoke the truth; and whose truth is stronger - your crow’s life answers this. Well, now fly home, but I want to take a nap.
However, the raven did not return home, but directed its flight towards the gyrfalcon.
“Come what may,” he thought, heavily flapping his senile wings, “and I will see it through to the end!” Even if the gyrfalcon does not accept my truth, then I will fly to the province to the kite itself, but I will not deviate from the truth!”
The gyrfalcon lived in the depression of a mountain gorge, and access to it was very difficult. The tailbone man on duty sat at the threshold of his home and received petitioners. This time the man on duty turned out to be Ivan Ivanovich, the tailbone known to the entire crow family, the favorite of the gyrfalcon (there were even rumors that he was his natural son), who entrusted him with the most important and secret matters. He was a dashing fellow, seemingly good-natured, with supportive and even refined manners. He wasn’t averse to fooling around, having fun somewhere behind a cloud, flying around the burners with tap-dancing girls, and even doing a favor for a friend; but all this complacency remained with him only as long as he was out of service. As soon as he began to perform his duties (especially secret assignments), he was instantly transformed. He became cold, stern and efficient to the point of cruelty. If they order him to overtake him, he will overtake him; If they order to strangle you, they will strangle you. If the bird is twice his size and stronger, he will fly up to it so head over heels that it begins to scream and rush about in anguish. In general, the birds that were in trouble with him trembled with fear at his very name.
- Didn't wake up, old man? - Ivan Ivanovich ironically greeted the petitioner.
The old raven realized that everything was already known here. And birds have their own spies, through whom not only the actions, but also the secret thoughts of ordinary people are known.
- What kind of sleep do old people have! - he answered evasively.
—Have you come to announce the truth? - the tailbone continued, - well, yes, however, this is your business. Report?
- Yes, do me such a favor.
Ivan Ivanovich ducked into the depression and remained there for about an hour. The raven, with bated breath, waited for his appearance. Finally he showed up.
“I’ve been told to tell you,” he said, “that there’s no time to make peace with you.” Your truth has been known to everyone from time immemorial, and, therefore, there is a defect in it if it does not manifest itself. You have a restless disposition, you make empty speeches to the people. We should have eaten you long ago for this, yes, listen, you are old, thin and weak. To the head of the region, tea, will you fly now?
“No, really...” the raven wanted to hide.
- Don't lock yourself in! I see right through you! Well, fly! just so they don’t peck out your eyes for your truth. - Look, don’t make a mistake! Come on, you don’t even know the road; you see, there is a cloud, there, above this very cloud - it is there.
Despite the coccyx's prediction, the raven decided to complete his petition. He climbed a long and roundabout way, spending the night in abandoned animal holes and soaking himself in berries that occasionally came across on the spurs of the mountains. Finally he crashed into a cloud, and a magical sight appeared before his eyes.
Several adjacent mountain peaks, covered with snow, glowed in the rays of the rising sun. From a distance it seemed like a fairy-tale castle, at the foot of which the clouds froze, and above, instead of a roof, stretched the endless blue sky.
The kite was sitting on a rock, surrounded by a whole mass of various birds. On his right side sat a white gyrfalcon, his assistant and adviser; officials of special assignments of all kinds were tumbling at their feet: parrots, learned bullfinches and siskins; behind, a chorus of starlings reported the morning mail; off to the side, on a separate peak, owls, eagle owls and bats were dozing, forming something like a provincial council; Crows flashed in large numbers in the distance, with feathers behind their ears, scribbling decrees, instructions and reports and shouting: “Hot, hot! a penny a couple!”
The kite was an old man and his beak was barely creaking with age. At that moment when the raven landed at his feet, he had just had lunch and, half asleep, closed his eyes and shook his head, despite the deafening talk and noise. However, the appearance of the petitioner caused some commotion among the birds, thanks to which the kite perked up.
- With a request, elder? - he asked the raven affectionately.
I flew from far away to announce the truth to your Majesty! - the raven began enthusiastically, but was immediately stopped by the gyrfalcon.
- Don't use rhetoric! - the latter interrupted him coldly, - report the matter without embellishment, clearly, simply, point by point. What do you need?
The raven began to outline his petition point by point: man is destroying the raven race, he is harassing the tailbones, the hawk, the gyrfalcon, the unmerciful gatherings are ruining... And every time he finishes one point, the kite creaks its beak and says:
- The truth is yours, elder!
The old raven's heart beat in his chest at these confirmations. "Finally! - he thought, - I will see this truth, for which I have been yearning since childhood! I will serve my tribe, I will be jealous for it!” And the further his word flowed, the hotter and hotter it sounded. Finally he expressed everything that was in his soul and fell silent.
-Have you said everything? - the kite asked him.
“That’s it,” answered the raven.
- Did you hit a hawk or a gyrfalcon with his forehead?
- I beat them with them too.
He summarized his conversation with the hawk, as well as his failed tryst with the gyrfalcon.
“So this is what I’ll tell you about your truth,” said the kite, “for more than two hundred years I’ve been sitting on this cliff and looking sideways at the sun... But until now I’ve never been able to look the Truth in the face.”
- But why? - The raven croaked in bewilderment.
- But because a bird cannot accommodate it. If anyone thinks of himself that he has contained the truth, he must fulfill it; and we, therefore, cannot fulfill it - that’s why we look at it from under our brows. I think: “Perhaps she will pass by!”
Korshun thought for a minute and continued:
“The hawk said a cruel word to you, but it was correct.” The truth is good, but it is not good to listen to it at every time and not in every place. It may lead some into temptation, but to others it may seem like a reproach. Some people would be glad to serve the truth, but how can they approach it empty-handed! The truth is that it’s not a crow—you can’t grab it by the tail. Look around - everywhere there is discord, everywhere there is quarrel; no one can truly determine where and why he is going... That is why everyone refers to his personal truth. But the time will come when the limits within which its life must take place become clear to every breath - then the divisions will disappear by themselves, and with them all petty “personal truths” will dissipate like smoke. The real, united and binding Truth will be revealed; will come and the whole world will shine. And we will all live together and in love. That's it, old man! In the meantime, fly in peace and announce to the crow family that I trust in him, like in a stone mountain.
A protest against injustice, against deceitful rulers is heard in M. E. Shchedrin’s fairy tale “The Petitioner Raven.” In the image of a petitioning raven, the writer depicted the plight of the peasants after the reform of 1861, their poverty, ruin, hunger, and defenselessness. The oppressors do not want to change anything in the life of the common people, but, on the contrary, increase taxes, create lawlessness in relation to the peasants: “This is how it goes now: the crows are ruined, but the treasury is not filled.” All attempts to express his opinion were suppressed, so the raven hit both the hawk and the gyrfalcon with his brow, but they all did not want to listen to him, since he spoke the real truth about ruin, hunger and overwork. And again M.E. Shchedrin vividly painted the image of the great Russian people, noble, generous, harboring inexhaustible strength, and exposes the corrupt and deceitful rulers of Tsarist Russia: “Your truth has been known to everyone since time immemorial, and therefore, there is a vice in it, if it doesn’t manifest itself... Well, fly! Just make sure they don’t peck out your eyes for your truth.” Why does M.E. Shchedrin castigate landowners and rulers with such hatred, with such crushing sarcasm? ! Why does he paint a satirical type of exploiter? ! Yes, because the writer already knew in advance about the death of the autocracy and the entire exploitative system and wanted to show its true face, all the atrocities committed by it. In his tales about the oppressed people and tyrant rulers, M. E. Shchedrin also poses pressing political questions, as in “The Petitioner Crow” - the need for change. The fairy tales of M. E. Saltykov-Shchedrin are closed... But my thoughts are still confused. What did the author want to tell us by describing this or that image? What message did he want to convey to the reader? Reading M.E. Saltykov-Shchedrin is quite difficult. Therefore, perhaps many did not understand the meaning of his fairy tales. But the majority of “children of a fair age” appreciated the work of the great satirist as it deserved. In “Fairy Tales” and the satirical cycles of the 80s, the artistic image of Shchedrin the satirist and the unique originality of his language were especially clearly revealed. Here Aesop's style of writing found its brilliant expression. Deep political meaning is embedded in the names of the characters, in their actions, in speech, in metaphors. M. E. Shchedrin uses traditional fairy-tale techniques, fairy-tale images, proverbs, sayings, and sayings and gives them a pronounced political overtones. Thus, all the predatory and insidious animals and birds in M.E. Shchedrin are exploiters, and defenseless animals are oppressed people. Images of the animal world in fairy tales provided ample opportunities to make the deepest satirical generalizations.
