I studied for a very long time. There were still gymnasiums back then. And the teachers then put marks in the diary for each lesson asked. They gave any score - from five to one inclusive.
And I was very small when I entered the gymnasium, the preparatory class. I was only seven years old.
And I still didn’t know anything about what happens in gymnasiums. And for the first three months I literally walked around in a fog.
And then one day the teacher told us to memorize a poem:
The moon shines merrily over the village,
White snow sparkles with blue light...
But I didn’t memorize this poem. I didn't hear what the teacher said. I didn’t hear because the boys who were sitting behind either slapped me on the back of the head with a book, or smeared ink on my ear, or pulled my hair, and when I jumped up in surprise, they placed a pencil or insert under me. And for this reason, I sat in class, frightened and even stunned, and all the time I listened to what else the boys sitting behind me were planning against me.
And the next day, as luck would have it, the teacher called me and ordered me to recite the assigned poem by heart.
And I not only didn’t know him, but I didn’t even suspect that there were such poems in the world. But out of timidity, I did not dare to tell the teacher that I did not know these verses. And completely stunned, he stood at his desk, not saying a word.
But then the boys began to suggest these poems to me. And thanks to this, I began to babble what they whispered to me.
And at that time I had a chronic runny nose, and I couldn’t hear well in one ear, and therefore had difficulty understanding what they were telling me.
I somehow managed to pronounce the first lines. But when it came to the phrase: “The cross under the clouds burns like a candle,” I said: “The crackling sound under the boots hurts like a candle.”
Here there was laughter among the students. And the teacher laughed too. He said:
- Come on, give me your diary here! I'll put a unit there for you.
And I cried, because it was my first unit and I still didn’t know what happened.
After class, my sister Lelya came to pick me up to go home together.
On the way, I took the diary out of my backpack, unfolded it to the page where the unit was written, and said to Lele:
- Lelya, look, what is this? The teacher gave me this for the poem “The moon shines merrily over the village.”
Lelya looked and laughed. She said:
- Minka, this is bad! It was your teacher who gave you a bad grade in Russian. This is so bad that I doubt that dad will give you a photographic device for your name day, which will be in two weeks.
I said:
- What should we do?
Lelya said:
- One of our students took and glued two pages in her diary, where she had a unit. Her dad drooled on his fingers, but couldn’t peel it off and never saw what was there.
I said:
- Lelya, it’s not good to deceive your parents!
Lelya laughed and went home. And in a sad mood I went into the city garden, sat down on a bench there and, unfolding the diary, looked with horror at the unit. 
I sat in the garden for a long time. Then I went home. But when I approached the house, I suddenly remembered that I had left my diary on a bench in the garden. I ran back. But in the garden on the bench there was no longer my diary. At first I was scared, and then I was glad that now I no longer have the diary with this terrible unit with me.
I came home and told my father that I had lost my diary. And Lelya laughed and winked at me when she heard these words of mine.
The next day, the teacher, having learned that I had lost the diary, gave me a new one.
I opened this new diary with the hope that this time there was nothing bad there, but there again there was a one against the Russian language, even more bold than before.
And then I felt so frustrated and so angry that I threw this diary behind the bookcase that stood in our classroom.
Two days later, the teacher, having learned that I did not have this diary, filled out a new one. And, in addition to a one in the Russian language, he gave me a two in behavior. And he said that my father would definitely look at my diary. 
When I met Lelya after the lesson, she told me:
- It won't be a lie if we temporarily seal the page. And a week after your name day, when you receive the camera, we will peel it off and show dad what was there.
I really wanted to get a photographic camera, and Lelya and I taped up the corners of the ill-fated page of the diary.
In the evening dad said:
- Come on, show me your diary! Interesting to know if you picked up any units?
Dad began to look at the diary, but did not see anything bad there, because the page was taped up.
And when dad was looking at my diary, suddenly someone rang on the stairs.
Some woman came and said: 
- The other day I was walking in the city garden and there on a bench I found a diary. I recognized the address from his last name and brought it to you so that you could tell me if your son lost this diary.
Dad looked at the diary and, seeing one there, understood everything. He didn't yell at me. He just said quietly:
- People who lie and deceive are funny and comical, because sooner or later their lies will always be revealed. And there was never a case in the world where any of the lies remained unknown.
I, red as a lobster, stood in front of dad, and I was ashamed of his quiet words. I said:
- Here's what: I threw another one of my, the third, diary with a unit behind a bookcase at school.
Instead of getting even more angry with me, dad smiled and beamed. He grabbed me in his arms and started kissing me.
He said:
“The fact that you admitted this made me extremely happy.” You confessed something that could have remained unknown for a long time. And this gives me hope that you will no longer lie. And for this I will give you a camera.
When Lelya heard these words, she thought that dad had gone crazy in his mind and now gives everyone gifts not for A's, but for un's.
And then Lelya came up to dad and said:
- Daddy, I also got a bad mark in physics today because I didn’t learn the lesson.
But Lelya’s expectations were not met. Dad got angry with her, kicked her out of his room and told her to sit down with her books immediately.
And then in the evening, when we were going to bed, the bell suddenly rang.
It was my teacher who came to dad. And he said to him:
- Today we were cleaning our classroom, and behind the bookcase we found your son’s diary. How do you like this little liar and deceiver who left his diary so that you wouldn’t see him?
Dad said:
- I have already personally heard about this diary from my son. He himself admitted this act to me. So there is no reason to think that my son is an incorrigible liar and deceiver.
The teacher told dad:
- Oh, that's how it is. You already know this. In this case, it is a misunderstanding. Sorry. Good night.
And I, lying in my bed, hearing these words, cried bitterly. And he promised himself to always tell the truth.
And this is indeed what I always do now. Ah, sometimes it can be very difficult, but my heart is cheerful and calm.
Story by Mikhail Zoshchenko. Illustrations
