Preface to the summary of Mamin-Sibiryak's story "Spit", let us explain that the story was published in 1885. In it, the Russian writer Dmitry Narkisovich Mamin-Sibiryak told readers the story of the tragic fate of a poor boy, an orphan, who had to work a lot and hard just for housing, clothes and a piece of bread.
Below we will present a brief summary of Mamin-Sibiryak’s “Spit” in parts.
Part I
A twelve-year-old boy, Proshka, works as a “spitmaker” in a lapidary workshop on the outskirts of the city. He has the darkest corner where he spends his days turning the stone grinding wheel. Besides him, four more work in the workshop: the old lapidary Ermilych, the gloomy silent master Ignatius, the lively young apprentice Spirka, the mute worker Levka from birth. The craftsmen work, discussing their owner Alexei Ivanovich Ukhov, who is a known cheat with customers, and starves his workers and overburdens them. The craftsmen are wasting away at his work, and he still pretends to sympathize. And he promises: he is about to make sure that the workers have a better life. And he will build a workshop instead of this old bathhouse, and he will order the dinners to be cooked more heartily. But, of course, it doesn't do anything.
Let's move on to presenting a summary of the second part of Mamin-Sibiryak's "Skewer".
Part II
July, eleven in the morning, the sun is shining. Proshka is very hungry. He saw a piece of meat in the kitchen and now dreams of cabbage soup with beef. Closing his eyes, he spins his wheel and dreams. His dreams are interrupted by a visit from an elegant rich lady with two children, accompanied by her owner. She came to show the children how precious stones are made, but was amazed by the appearance of the squalid and dirty workshop. And she felt sorry for Proshka, saying: “He’s so skinny!” The lady bought several stones and asked Proshka to deliver them to her home.
Part III
Before going to see the lady, Proshka was forced to put on a new shirt and wash herself. Proshka began to feel shy, but when he came home to his mistress, he settled down. I met a frivolous, lazy and kind boy Volodya, the son of Anna Ivanovna, and she ordered Proshka to be fed and suddenly decided that she would teach him to read and write on Sundays.
Before Christmas, Proshka did not come to his next lesson. He fell ill and developed consumption. But, ashamed to eat the owner’s free bread, he continued to work at the wheel, although it was very difficult for him. In those days, consumption (tuberculosis) was considered a very dangerous disease, Proshka soon fell ill. And then he was gone.
Anna Ivanovna came to Proshka’s funeral. She reproached herself for never being able to help Proshka, and cried for all the poor children who had such a difficult fate.
So, we have given a brief summary of “Spit” by Mamin-Sibiryak.
Mamin-Sibiryak Dmitry Narkisovich
Dmitry Narkisovich Mamin-Sibiryak
The bright summer sun burst through the open window, illuminating the workshop with all its squalor, with the exception of one dark corner where Proshka worked. The sun seemed to have forgotten him, just as sometimes mothers leave little children without any care. Proshka, only craning his neck, could see from behind the wide wooden frame of his wheel just one corner of the window, in which the green beds of a vegetable garden were exactly drawn, behind them was a shiny strip of the river, and in it were city children forever bathing. Through the open window one could hear the cry of bathers, the rumble of heavily loaded carts rolling along the river bank, the distant ringing of monastery bells and the desperate croaking of jackdaws flying from roof to roof in the urban suburb of Terebilovka.
The workshop consisted of only one room, in which five people worked. There used to be a bathhouse here, and you could still feel the dampness of the bathhouse, especially in the corner where Proshka worked like a spider. Near the window there was a wooden workbench with three wheels on which precious stones were polished. Sitting closest to the light was old man Ermilych, who was working with glasses. He was considered one of the best lapidaries in Yekaterinburg, but every year he began to see things worse. Yermilych worked, throwing his head back a little, and Proshka could only see his beard, which was some kind of wet color. While working, Ermilych loved to reason out loud, and endlessly scolded the owner of the workshop, Ukhov.
He's a cheat, Alexey Ivanovich, that's what! - the old man repeated in a dry voice, as if his throat was dry. - He kills us like cockroaches. Yes... Both work and food make you tired. What does he feed us? Empty cabbage soup and porridge - that’s all the food. What kind of work is there if a person’s heart is empty?.. Don’t be afraid Alexey Ivanovich himself drinks tea five times a day. At home he drinks twice, and then he goes on a visit and drinks there... And what a rogue: he dines with us and even praises... He’s doing this as a distraction so that we don’t grumble. And he himself will probably have lunch on his own.
These arguments ended each time like this:
If I leave him, that will be the end of the matter. It will be, - I worked for Alexey Ivanovich for eleven years. Enough... And as much work as you want... Do me a favor, we won’t bow...
The consumptive master Ignatius, who worked next to Ermilych, was usually silent. He was a gloomy man who did not like to waste words. But the apprentice Spirka, a young, lively guy, sporting red red shirts, loved to provoke his grandfather, as the workers called the old man Ermilych.
And he’s a rogue, Alexey Ivanovich! - Spirka said, winking at Ignatius. - We are wasting away at his work, and he is cheating. The whole day he does nothing but walk around the city and deceive those who are simpler. Do you remember, grandfather, how he sold glass to a passing lady? And he also says: “I do everything myself, with my own hands...”
And what a rogue! - Ermilych agreed. - Last year, this is how cleverly I replaced the amethyst for a passing gentleman! He let him straighten the stone, because the edge was dull and there were scratches. I also corrected it... The stone was excellent!.. So he kept it for himself, and handed it to a passing gentleman with another... It is known that gentlemen do not understand anything about what is what.
The fourth worker, Levka, mute from birth, could not take part in these conversations and only mumbled when Ermilych explained to him with signs what a rogue their owner was.
Ukhov himself looked into his workshop only early in the morning, when he was handing out work, and in the evening, when he accepted the finished stones. The exception was those cases when there was some urgent work. Then Alexey Ivanovich ran in ten times to hurry up the workers. Ermilych could not tolerate such urgent work and grumbled every time.
The funniest thing was when Alexey Ivanovich came to the workshop, dressed like a craftsman, in an old jacket and an apron stained with yellow emery stains. This meant that someone would come to the workshop, some profitable customer or a curious passerby. Alexey Ivanovich looked like a hungry fox: long, thin, bald, with a red mustache sticking out with stubble and colorless eyes that moved restlessly. He had such long arms, as if nature had created him specifically for theft. And how cleverly he knew how to talk to customers. And no one knew how to show off a precious stone better than him. Such a buyer looked at some crack or other defect only in the house. Sometimes the deceived people came to the workshop and received the same answer - namely, that Alexey Ivanovich had left somewhere.
How is this so? - the buyer was surprised. - The stone is no good...
“We don’t know anything, master,” Ermilych answered for everyone. - Our business is small...
All the workers usually roared with laughter when the duped customer left.
“And look carefully,” Yermilych instructively remarked, indirectly defending the owner, “you have eyes for that... Alexey Ivanovich will learn.”
Spirka rejoiced the most, laughing until he cried. Still, it’s fun, otherwise you’ll sit all day at your workbench like you’ve been sewn on. And there is no need to feel sorry for the gentlemen: their money is wild, so they throw it away.
The work in the workshop was distributed in this way. Ermilych sorted the raw stones, and then handed them over to Levka to “beat”, that is, to chip with an iron hammer, so that they could be cut. This was considered menial work, and only the most expensive stones, like emerald, were belled by Ermilych himself. The stones rounded by Levka went to Spirka, who roughed them up. Ignatius was already laying the facets (edges), and Ermilych corrected them again and polished them. The result was precious and semi-precious stones that played with different colors: emeralds, peridots, aquamarines, heavyweights (precious topaz), amethysts, and most of all - rauch-topazes (smoky-colored rock crystal) and simply colorless rock crystal. Occasionally other stones came across, such as rubies and sapphires, which Ermilych called “toothed” because they were harder than all the others. Ermilych called amethysts the bishop's stone. The old man treated the stones as if they were something alive, and even got angry at some of them, like chrysolites.
What kind of stone is this? To put it bluntly, our enemy,” he grumbled, scattering shiny emerald green grains on his hand. “Every other stone is sharpened with wet sandpaper, but give this one dry.” This is how you swallow dust... Just a lot of dust.
Large stones were sharpened directly by hand, pressing the stone onto a rotating circle, and small ones were first adhered to a wooden handle with special mastic. During work, the spinning circle was constantly wetted with emery. Emery is a type of corundum that is turned into a fine powder for cutting and grinding. When working, dried sandpaper floats as fine dust in the air, and workers inevitably breathe in this dust, clogging their lungs and damaging their eyes. Thanks to this sanding dust, most lapidary workers suffer from chest diseases and lose their eyesight early. Add to this the fact that you have to work in cramped spaces, without any ventilation, like Alexey Ivanovich.
It’s a bit cramped... yes... - said Ukhov himself. - I’ll build a new workshop as soon as I get better with my business.
Year after year passed, and Alexei Ivanovich’s affairs still did not improve. The same thing was repeated regarding food. Alexey Ivanovich himself was sometimes indignant at his workers’ lunches and said:
What kind of lunch is this? Do such dinners really exist?.. As soon as I get better with my business, then we’ll really turn things around.
Alexey Ivanovich never argued or got excited, but agreed with everyone and did things his own way. Even Yermilych, no matter how much he scolded the owner behind his back, said:
Well, the man was born too! He, Alexey Ivanovich, like a living burbot, you can’t grab with your hand. You look, and turned away. But in words, like a goose on water... He also takes pity on us!.. And we are cramped, and the food is bad... Oh, what a deformed man!.. In a word, there is a rogue all around! ..
The sun shone in all eyes, as it shines only in July. It was about eleven o'clock in the morning. Ermilych sat in the very heat and enjoyed the warmth. The old blood no longer warmed him. Proshka spent the whole morning thinking about dinner. He was constantly hungry and pressed only from food to food, like a small hungry animal. Early in the morning he looked into the kitchen and saw that there was a piece of “sheina” (the cheapest type of meat, from the neck) lying on the table, and he looked forward to the pleasure of eating cabbage soup with beef. What could be better than such cabbage soup, especially when the fat covers the brew with a layer almost an inch deep, like pork?.. Now, in the summer, pork is expensive, and this pleasure is available only in the winter, when frozen pigs are brought to the city and Alexey Ivanovich buys a whole carcass . Sheina is also good if the hostess does not dilute the cabbage soup with water. These thoughts made Proshka’s stomach ache, and he swallowed his hungry saliva. If only you could eat your fill every day!..
Proshka turned his wheel, closing his eyes. He often did this when he dreamed. But his thoughts today were disrupted by the unexpected appearance of Alexei Ivanovich. This meant that someone would come to the workshop and that we would have to wait for lunch. Alexey Ivanovich dressed up in his work suit and looked around worriedly.
Lesson
45. Topic:
Works of Russian writers about children.
Additional reading. D. N. Mamin-Sibiryak
"Spit."
Lesson type
Application of knowledge and methods of action
Planned
results
(subject)
introduce the work of D.N. Mamin - Sibiryak, develop the ability to work with text, assume, anticipate the content of the text based on the title, continue to develop the ability to analyze the work read, the ability to navigate the text, find given episodes, improve the ability to characterize a character, understand the actions of the characters, their emotional state.
Personal
results
create conditions for the formation of a positive attitude towards reading, cultivate compassion and mercy.
Universal learning activities (meta-subject)
Cognitive: ensure the development of students’ skills in comparing, grouping, highlighting what is needed, and analyzing.
Regulatory: to promote the development in children of the ability to exercise self-control and mutual control, self-assessment of educational activities, the ability to accept and maintain an educational task, develop observation of words, enrich students’ vocabulary, and develop creative abilities.
Communicative: promote the development of children's communication skills, the development of speech skills, monologue and dialogic speech.
Main content of the topic, concepts and terms
D. Mamin-Sibiryak "Spit." Theme, genre, main idea of the work. Characteristics of Proshka’s image (appearance, actions). Comparison of stories by N. G. Garin-Mikhailovsky, K. M. Stanyukovich and D. N. Mamin-Sibiryak
(plot, fate of the heroes). Analysis of intra-text illustrations for a deeper understanding of the content of the work. Correlation of illustrations with episodes of the work. Comparing your reading comprehension
Forms, methods
Teacher's actions
Students' actions
I. Organizational moment
Motivational Poem
Smile at each other, sit down
Hands? On the spot!
Legs? On the spot!
Elbows? At the edge!
Back? Straight!
Greetings from the teachers.
II. Update
Frontal conversation
An unspoken sentence
In the last lesson, we began to get acquainted with the work of D.N. Mom's Siberian, which is called...
And we also touched on the subject...
Look at the board and read the epigraph to the lesson.
How do you understand the meaning of these words?
What century are we living in?
And the work “Skewer” is about which century?
What do you remember about this time?
A difficult lot befell the children of old Russia. Poverty and devastation in the country forced parents to send their children to work, otherwise they would not survive or feed themselves. There is hopelessness all around. There is grief all around. And no matter how sorry it was for a mother to give her child to someone else’s house, they had to do this in order to survive. And no matter what, people believed that it was better to be far from home, even if it was hard for the child, but still he would be fed, learn something, and earn a little money.
What did the rich dream of?
What did the poor children dream of? You should have finished reading at home.
Look at the photos and tell me which one is the odd one out and why?
What do you think is the topic of our lesson today?
–What goal will you set for yourself?
What tasks?
Skewer
Stories
Children's statements.
XXI
XIX
At the endXIXcentury there was a sharp division of people into poor and rich. The rich had everything, and the poor had nothing. The poor had to work hard. They worked mainly for the rich. They worked hard.
They worked in factories, in the houses of the rich, and sometimes right on the streets (cleaning shoes, begging). Both of them had children. What distinguished them was that the children of the poor, in order to somehow survive, had to work.
Both of them love to dream.
There are many stories about the lives of children of that time.
They give answers.
Lermontov, because he is a poet.
Analysis of the work by D.N. Mamin-Sibiryak “Spit”
Analysis of the work "Spit"
Remember what you learned about the author?
Answer questions
Make a plan
Describe the characters
Find trails
III. Application of knowledge and methods of action
Conscious expressive reading. Search reading. Characteristics of the characters in the story. Independent completion of tasks
- What did you learn about the author in the last lesson? (evaluate yourself on self-assessment sheets)
- How many parts can the story be divided into?
Let's make a plan in pairs (cards). (assessment)
Where did Proshka work?
What did the workshop look like?
Prove that work in the workshop posed a danger to human health.
What kind of work did Proshka do in the workshop?
Name the workers.
- Describe the characters in a few words and what they did. (on cards) (Weak students in t. P. 64 1 task) (assessment)
What did the owner feed the workers in the workshop?
Why did the rich lady bring her children to the workshop?
- Individual work on cards. (Find in the text and complete the sentences, restore the text)
A) Remember what the workshop was like before?
Find the fragment that proves this
Would you like to work in such a workshop?
Why?
b) Find in part 3 of the work the place where it is written what Proshka dreamed of.
What else did Proshka dream of? (part 3)
Why did the rich lady bring her children to the workshop?
Reading by roles 2 parts ( from the words “Volodya’s mother looked into the corner...)
Physical exercise (If you agree, we squat, if you don’t agree, we jump) – Game "True - False"
Proshka was 14 years old.
Ukhov fed his workers plenty
Ukhov is the owner of the workshop
Anna Ivanovna had three children
Proshka had parents
The handle of the wheel that Proshka was turning was shiny because it was new.
The owner of the workshop deceived not only his workers, but also his customers;
The writer compares Ukhov to a bear
Lyovka - young, lively, loves to tease Ermilych
The most important thing in a person is a good heart
Offers to complete tasks in RT No. 1
(pp. 64–65)
- Why does Proshka die?
a story about a writer.
At 4
Ermilych, Ignatius, Spirka, Proshka, Lyovka.
Read aloud in parts. Answer questions. Find answers to questions in the text. Characterize the heroes of the story.
Do the tasks in the workbook
Banya
(read an excerpt from part 1, paragraph 2)
incorrect, he is 12 years old
incorrect, fed very poorly
right
wrong, two
wrong, he is an orphan
wrong, she was light from the hands
right
wrong, with a fox
wrong, he's been mute since birth
right
From sanding dust, overwork and poor nutrition
IV. Consolidation of knowledge and methods of action
Comparison
- Guys, who do you think, besides writers, could tell us about the lives of children of the distant past? (slides) V.E. Makovsky “Date”, V.G. Perov "Troika"
Not only writers wrote about the difficulties and deprivations of children, but artists reflected their bitter fate in their immortal canvases.
Take a close look at the characters in the picture.
How do you see children?
What do their faces express?
Whose fate is similar to the fate of the children in the picture?
We don’t see their owners in the paintings, but what can we say about them?
So, we figured out what ruined Proshka, but we did it from a moral point of view. We will try to compare the legal status of today's child and our hero. Therefore, at this stage, we will try to determine which rights of a child of modern times were not given to Proshka, and the Convention of the Rights of the Child will help us do this (slide)
Offers a comparison of the stories of N. G. Garin-Mikhailovsky, K. M. Stanyukovich
and D.N. Mamin-Sibiryak (plot, fate
heroes)
Artists
Proshki
Greedy, angry, heartless, gloomy.
V. Reflection
Competent expression of your emotions
What prompted the writer to write the story “Spit”?
What does the story of Mamin-Sibiryak teach?
What new things have you learned about yourself?
– Did you complete the assigned tasks?
Sinkway 1 group - about the main character of the work
Group 2 - about the owner of the workshop
Answer the questions asked
Homework
Reading Skill Development
Dmitry Narkisovich Mamin-Sibiryak
Skewer“The bright summer sun burst through the open window, illuminating the workshop with all its squalor, with the exception of one dark corner where Proshka worked. The sun seemed to have forgotten him, just as sometimes mothers leave little children without any care. Proshka, only craning his neck, could see from behind the wide wooden frame of his wheel only one corner of the window, in which the green beds of a vegetable garden were exactly drawn, behind them was a shiny strip of a river, and in it were city children forever bathing ... "
Dmitry Narkisovich Mamin-Sibiryak
The bright summer sun burst through the open window, illuminating the workshop with all its squalor, with the exception of one dark corner where Proshka worked. The sun seemed to have forgotten him, just as sometimes mothers leave little children without any care. Proshka, only craning his neck, could see from behind the wide wooden frame of his wheel only one corner of the window, in which the green beds of a vegetable garden were exactly drawn, behind them was a shiny strip of the river, and in it were city children forever bathing. Through the open window one could hear the cry of bathers, the rumble of heavily loaded carts rolling along the river bank, the distant ringing of monastery bells and the desperate croaking of jackdaws flying from roof to roof in the urban suburb of Terebilovka.
The workshop consisted of only one room, in which five people worked. There used to be a bathhouse here, and you could still feel the dampness of the bathhouse, especially in the corner where Proshka worked like a spider. Near the window there was a wooden workbench with three wheels on which precious stones were polished. Sitting closest to the light was old man Ermilych, who was working with glasses. He was considered one of the best lapidaries in Yekaterinburg, but every year he began to see things worse. Yermilych worked, throwing his head back a little, and Proshka could only see his beard, which was some kind of wet color. While working, Ermilych loved to reason out loud, and endlessly scolded the owner of the workshop, Ukhov.
- He’s a cheat, Alexey Ivanovich, that’s what! - the old man repeated in a dry voice, as if his throat was dry. “He’s killing us like cockroaches.” Yes... Both work and food make you tired. What does he feed us? Empty cabbage soup and porridge - that’s all the food. What kind of work is there if a person’s heart is empty?.. Don’t be afraid Alexey Ivanovich himself drinks tea five times a day. At home he drinks twice, and then he goes on a visit and drinks there... And what a rogue: he dines with us and even praises... He’s doing this as a distraction so that we don’t grumble. And he himself will probably have lunch on his own.
These arguments ended each time like this:
“If I leave him, that’s the end of the matter.” It will be, - I worked for Alexey Ivanovich for eleven years. Enough... And as much work as you like... Do me a favor, we won’t bow...
The consumptive master Ignatius, who worked next to Ermilych, was usually silent. He was a gloomy man who did not like to waste words. But the apprentice Spirka, a young, lively guy, sporting red red shirts, loved to provoke his grandfather, as the workers called the old man Ermilych.
- And he’s a rogue, Alexey Ivanovich! – said Spirka, winking at Ignatius. “We are wasting away at his work, and he is cheating.” The whole day he does nothing but walk around the city and deceive those who are simpler. Do you remember, grandfather, how he sold glass to a passing lady? And he also says: “I do everything myself, with my own hands...”
- And what a rogue! - Ermilych agreed. “Last year, this is how cleverly I replaced the amethyst for a passing gentleman!” He let him straighten the stone, because the edge was dull and there were scratches. I also corrected it... The stone was excellent!.. So he kept it for himself, and handed it to a passing gentleman with another... It is known that gentlemen do not understand anything about what is what.
The fourth worker, Levka, mute from birth, could not take part in these conversations and only mumbled when Ermilych explained to him with signs what a rogue their owner was.
Ukhov himself looked into his workshop only early in the morning, when he was handing out work, and in the evening, when he accepted the finished stones. The exception was those cases when there was some urgent work. Then Alexey Ivanovich ran in ten times to hurry up the workers. Ermilych could not tolerate such urgent work and grumbled every time.
The funniest thing was when Alexey Ivanovich came to the workshop, dressed like a craftsman, in an old jacket and an apron stained with yellow emery stains. This meant that someone would come to the workshop, some profitable customer or a curious passerby. Alexey Ivanovich looked like a hungry fox: long, thin, bald, with a red mustache sticking out with stubble and colorless eyes that moved restlessly. He had such long arms, as if nature had created him specifically for theft. And how cleverly he knew how to talk to customers. And no one knew how to show off a precious stone better than him. Such a buyer looked at some crack or other defect only in the house. Sometimes the deceived people came to the workshop and received the same answer - namely, that Alexey Ivanovich had left somewhere.
- How is this so? – the buyer was surprised. - The stone is no good...
“We don’t know anything, master,” Ermilych answered for everyone. - Our business is small...
All the workers usually roared with laughter when the duped customer left.
“Look carefully,” Yermilych remarked instructively, indirectly defending the owner, “you have eyes for that... Alexey Ivanovich will learn.”
Spirka rejoiced the most, laughing until he cried. Still, it’s fun, otherwise you’ll sit all day at your workbench like you’ve been sewn on. And there is no need to feel sorry for the gentlemen: their money is wild, so they throw it away.
The work in the workshop was distributed in this way. Ermilych sorted the raw stones, and then handed them over to Levka to “round”, that is, to chip with an iron hammer, so that they could be cut. This was considered menial work, and only the most expensive stones, like emerald, were belled by Ermilych himself. The stones rounded by Levka went to Spirka, who roughed them up. Ignatius was already laying the facets (edges), and Ermilych corrected them again and polished them. The result was precious and semi-precious stones that played with different colors: emeralds, peridots, aquamarines, heavyweights (precious topaz), amethysts, and most of all - rauch-topaz (smoky-colored rock crystal) and simply colorless rock crystal. Occasionally other stones came across, such as rubies and sapphires, which Ermilych called “toothed” because they were harder than all the others. Ermilych called amethysts the bishop's stone. The old man treated the stones as if they were something alive, and even got angry at some of them, like chrysolites.
- What kind of stone is this? To put it bluntly, our enemy,” he grumbled, scattering shiny emerald green grains on his hand. “Every other stone is sharpened with wet sandpaper, but give this one dry.” This is how you swallow dust... Just a lot of dust.
Large stones were sharpened directly by hand, pressing the stone onto a rotating circle, and small ones were first adhered to a wooden handle with special mastic. During work, the spinning circle was constantly wetted with emery. Emery is a type of corundum that is turned into a fine powder for cutting and grinding. When working, dried sandpaper floats as fine dust in the air, and workers inevitably breathe in this dust, clogging their lungs and damaging their eyes. Thanks to this sanding dust, most lapidary workers suffer from chest diseases and lose their eyesight early. Add to this the fact that you have to work in cramped spaces, without any ventilation, like Alexey Ivanovich.
“It’s a bit cramped... yes...” Ukhov himself said. “I’ll build a new workshop as soon as I get things done.”
Current page: 1 (book has 2 pages in total)
Dmitry Narkisovich Mamin-Sibiryak
Skewer
I
The bright summer sun burst through the open window, illuminating the workshop with all its squalor, with the exception of one dark corner where Proshka worked. The sun seemed to have forgotten him, just as sometimes mothers leave little children without any care. Proshka, only craning his neck, could see from behind the wide wooden frame of his wheel only one corner of the window, in which the green beds of a vegetable garden were exactly drawn, behind them was a shiny strip of the river, and in it were city children forever bathing. Through the open window one could hear the cry of bathers, the rumble of heavily loaded carts rolling along the river bank, the distant ringing of monastery bells and the desperate croaking of jackdaws flying from roof to roof in the urban suburb of Terebilovka.
The workshop consisted of only one room, in which five people worked. There used to be a bathhouse here, and you could still feel the dampness of the bathhouse, especially in the corner where Proshka worked like a spider. Near the window there was a wooden workbench with three wheels on which precious stones were polished. Sitting closest to the light was old man Ermilych, who was working with glasses. He was considered one of the best lapidaries in Yekaterinburg, but every year he began to see things worse. Yermilych worked, throwing his head back a little, and Proshka could only see his beard, which was some kind of wet color. While working, Ermilych loved to reason out loud, and endlessly scolded the owner of the workshop, Ukhov.
- He’s a cheat, Alexey Ivanovich, that’s what! - the old man repeated in a dry voice, as if his throat was dry. “He’s killing us like cockroaches.” Yes... Both work and food make you tired. What does he feed us? Empty cabbage soup and porridge - that’s all the food. What kind of work is there if a person’s heart is empty?.. Don’t be afraid Alexey Ivanovich himself drinks tea five times a day. At home he drinks twice, and then he goes on a visit and drinks there... And what a rogue: he dines with us and even praises... He’s doing this as a distraction so that we don’t grumble. And he himself will probably have lunch on his own.
These arguments ended each time like this:
“If I leave him, that’s the end of the matter.” It will be, - I worked for Alexey Ivanovich for eleven years. Enough... And as much work as you like... Do me a favor, we won’t bow...
The consumptive master Ignatius, who worked next to Ermilych, was usually silent. He was a gloomy man who did not like to waste words. But the apprentice Spirka, a young, lively guy, sporting red red shirts, loved to provoke his grandfather, as the workers called the old man Ermilych.
- And he’s a rogue, Alexey Ivanovich! – said Spirka, winking at Ignatius. “We are wasting away at his work, and he is cheating.” The whole day he does nothing but walk around the city and deceive those who are simpler. Do you remember, grandfather, how he sold glass to a passing lady? And he also says: “I do everything myself, with my own hands...”
- And what a rogue! - Ermilych agreed. “Last year, this is how cleverly I replaced the amethyst for a passing gentleman!” He let him straighten the stone, because the edge was dull and there were scratches. I also corrected it... The stone was excellent!.. So he kept it for himself, and handed it to a passing gentleman with another... It is known that gentlemen do not understand anything about what is what.
The fourth worker, Levka, mute from birth, could not take part in these conversations and only mumbled when Ermilych explained to him with signs what a rogue their owner was.
Ukhov himself looked into his workshop only early in the morning, when he was handing out work, and in the evening, when he accepted the finished stones. The exception was those cases when there was some urgent work. Then Alexey Ivanovich ran in ten times to hurry up the workers. Ermilych could not tolerate such urgent work and grumbled every time.
The funniest thing was when Alexey Ivanovich came to the workshop, dressed like a craftsman, in an old jacket and an apron stained with yellow emery stains. This meant that someone would come to the workshop, some profitable customer or a curious passerby. Alexey Ivanovich looked like a hungry fox: long, thin, bald, with a red mustache sticking out with stubble and colorless eyes that moved restlessly. He had such long arms, as if nature had created him specifically for theft. And how cleverly he knew how to talk to customers. And no one knew how to show off a precious stone better than him. Such a buyer looked at some crack or other defect only in the house. Sometimes the deceived people came to the workshop and received the same answer - namely, that Alexey Ivanovich had left somewhere.
- How is this so? – the buyer was surprised. - The stone is no good...
“We don’t know anything, master,” Ermilych answered for everyone. - Our business is small...
All the workers usually roared with laughter when the duped customer left.
“Look carefully,” Yermilych remarked instructively, indirectly defending the owner, “you have eyes for that... Alexey Ivanovich will learn.”
Spirka rejoiced the most, laughing until he cried. Still, it’s fun, otherwise you’ll sit all day at your workbench like you’ve been sewn on. And there is no need to feel sorry for the gentlemen: their money is wild, so they throw it away.
The work in the workshop was distributed in this way. Ermilych sorted the raw stones, and then handed them over to Levka to “round”, that is, to chip with an iron hammer, so that they could be cut. This was considered menial work, and only the most expensive stones, like emerald, were belled by Ermilych himself. The stones rounded by Levka went to Spirka, who roughed them up. Ignatius was already laying the facets (edges), and Ermilych corrected them again and polished them. The result was precious and semi-precious stones that played with different colors: emeralds, peridots, aquamarines, heavyweights (precious topaz), amethysts, and most of all - rauch-topaz (smoky-colored rock crystal) and simply colorless rock crystal. Occasionally other stones came across, such as rubies and sapphires, which Ermilych called “toothed” because they were harder than all the others. Ermilych called amethysts the bishop's stone. The old man treated the stones as if they were something alive, and even got angry at some of them, like chrysolites.
- What kind of stone is this? To put it bluntly, our enemy,” he grumbled, scattering shiny emerald green grains on his hand. “Every other stone is sharpened with wet sandpaper, but give this one dry.” This is how you swallow dust... Just a lot of dust.
Large stones were sharpened directly by hand, pressing the stone onto a rotating circle, and small ones were first adhered to a wooden handle with special mastic. During work, the spinning circle was constantly wetted with emery. Emery is a type of corundum that is turned into a fine powder for cutting and grinding. When working, dried sandpaper floats as fine dust in the air, and workers inevitably breathe in this dust, clogging their lungs and damaging their eyes. Thanks to this sanding dust, most lapidary workers suffer from chest diseases and lose their eyesight early. Add to this the fact that you have to work in cramped spaces, without any ventilation, like Alexey Ivanovich.
“It’s a bit cramped... yes...” Ukhov himself said. “I’ll build a new workshop as soon as I get things done.”
Year after year passed, and Alexei Ivanovich’s affairs still did not improve. The same thing was repeated regarding food. Alexey Ivanovich himself was sometimes indignant at his workers’ lunches and said:
-What kind of lunch is this? Do such dinners really exist?.. As soon as I get better with my business, then we’ll really turn things around.
Alexey Ivanovich never argued or got excited, but agreed with everyone and did things his own way. Even Yermilych, no matter how much he scolded the owner behind his back, said:
- Well, the man was born too! He, Alexey Ivanovich, like a living burbot, you can’t grab with your hand. You look, and turned away. But in words, like a goose on water... He also takes pity on us!.. And we are cramped, and the food is bad... Oh, what a deformed man!.. In a word, there is a rogue all around!..
II
The sun shone in all eyes, as it shines only in July. It was about eleven o'clock in the morning. Ermilych sat in the very heat and enjoyed the warmth. The old blood no longer warmed him. Proshka spent the whole morning thinking about dinner. He was constantly hungry and pressed only from food to food, like a small hungry animal. Early in the morning he looked into the kitchen and saw that there was a piece of “sheina” (the cheapest type of meat, from the neck) lying on the table, and he looked forward to the pleasure of eating cabbage soup with beef. What could be better than such cabbage soup, especially when the fat covers the brew with a layer almost an inch deep, like pork?.. Now, in the summer, pork is expensive, and this pleasure is available only in the winter, when frozen pigs are brought to the city and Alexey Ivanovich buys a whole carcass . Sheina is also good if the hostess does not dilute the cabbage soup with water. These thoughts made Proshka’s stomach ache, and he swallowed his hungry saliva. If only you could eat your fill every day!..
Proshka turned his wheel, closing his eyes. He often did this when he dreamed. But his thoughts today were disrupted by the unexpected appearance of Alexei Ivanovich. This meant that someone would come to the workshop and that we would have to wait for lunch. Alexey Ivanovich dressed up in his work suit and looked around worriedly.
“This kind of dirt!..” he thought out loud. - And where does it come from? Worse than in the stables... Spirka, at least you cleaned something up!
Spirka looked around in bewilderment. If you clean it up, you have to tear the whole workshop down into pieces. He nevertheless moved from one corner to another several heavy stones that were lying around in the workshop without any need. That was the end of it. Alexey Ivanovich just shook his head and said:
– What a workshop, there’s nothing to say! Just keep pigs.
It was almost time for dinner, when a smart carriage stopped at the gates of the Ukhovsky house and an elegant lady with two children got out of it: a girl of about twelve and a boy of about ten. Alexey Ivanovich ran out to greet the dear guests at the gate without a hat and bowed all the time.
- Excuse me, madam!.. It will be a little dirty in the workshop; and you can see the stones in my house.
“No, no,” the lady repeated persistently. – I can buy stones in the store; But I just want to see your workshop, that is, show the children how stones are cut.
- Oh, that's another matter! You are welcome...
The lady winced when she crossed the threshold of the Ukhov workshop. She never expected to encounter such squalor.
- Why is your place so dirty? – she was surprised.
“It’s impossible for us to maintain cleanliness,” explained Alexey Ivanovich. - You know, stone... Dust, rubbish, dirt... We try so hard to make it cleaner...
These explanations apparently did not at all convince the lady, who disgustedly picked up her skirts as she moved from the door to the workbench. She was still so young and beautiful, and the Ukhov workshop was filled with the smell of some expensive perfume. The girl looked like her mother and was also pretty. She listened with curiosity to Alexey Ivanovich's detailed explanations and was frankly surprised in the end that such pretty stones were coming out of such a dirty workshop.
“Yes, young lady, it happens,” Ermilych explained, “and the white bread that you deign to eat will be born on the black earth.”
Alexey Ivanovich gave a whole lecture about precious stones. First I showed them in their raw form, and then - sequential processing.
“Before there were more stones,” he explained, “but now from year to year there are fewer and fewer.” Take alexandrite - you can find it with fire during the day. And the gentlemen respect him very much, because he is green during the day, and red during the fire. There are different classes, madam, stone, just like there are different people.
The boy was not at all interested in stones. He did not understand what his mother and sister were admiring and why the cut colored glass was worse. What occupied him most was the large wooden wheel that Proshka was turning. This is a really interesting thing: such a big wheel spins! The boy quietly made his way to Proshka’s dark corner and looked with admiration at the shiny iron handle that Proshka was twirling.
- Why is she so light?
“And by hand,” Proshka explained.
- Let me believe it myself...
Proshka laughed when the little boy began to turn the wheel.
- Yes, this is very fun... What's your name?
- Proshka.
- How funny you are: it’s like you crawled out of a pipe.
- Work with me, you won’t turn black like that.
- Volodya, where did you go? – the lady was surprised. - You'll still get hurt...
- Mommy, it’s terribly interesting!.. Give me to the workshop - I, too, would turn the wheel. Very fun!.. Look! And what a light pen it is, as if polished. And Proshka looks like the little jackdaw that lived with us. A real little jackdaw...
Volodya’s mother looked into Proshka’s corner and just shook her head.
- How skinny he is! - she felt sorry for Proshka, - Is he sick with something?
- No, nothing, thank God! - explained Alexey Ivanovich. - An orphan, no father, no mother... There’s no reason to get fat, madam! My father died of consumption... He was also a master in our field. A lot of us are dying from consumption...
- So it’s difficult for him?
- No, why is it difficult? If you please, try it yourself... The wheel, almost, turns by itself.
- But he works all day?
- Usually...
– When do you start working in the morning?
“Not the same,” Alexey Ivanovich explained evasively, not liking such questions. – Depending on work... Another time – from seven o’clock.
- When do you finish?
– It’s also not the same: at six o’clock, at seven – as it happens.
Alexey Ivanovich lied in the most shameless way, reducing two whole hours of work.
- How much salary do you pay this Proshka?
- For mercy, madam, what a salary! I dress, put on shoes, feed, all at a loss. So, out of pity, I keep the orphan... Where can he go?
The lady looked into Proshka’s corner and just shrugged. After all, it’s terrible: to spend the whole day in such a corner and endlessly turn the wheel. This is some kind of little hard labor...
- How old is he? – she asked.
- Twelve…
“But he looks like he couldn’t be more than nine.” Perhaps you are not feeding him well?
- Have mercy, madam! I have the same food for everyone. I myself have lunch with them. Frankly speaking, I feed myself at a loss; but my heart is just like this... I can’t help it and I feel sorry for everyone, madam.
The lady selected several stones and asked to send them home.
“Send stones with this boy,” she asked, pointing her eyes at Proshka.
- Yes, sir, madam!
Alexey Ivanovich did not like the last wish. These ladies are always coming up with something! Why did she need Proshka? It would be better if he brought the stones himself. But there is nothing to do - can you really talk to the lady? Proshka, so Proshka, let him go; and Levka will work at the wheel.
When the lady left, the workshop was filled with general laughter.
- I just let the spirit go! - Yermilych grumbled. - It smells like soap...
“She’ll perfume Proshka too,” Spirka thought. - And Alexey Ivanovich slandered his hand 1
Blame on the hand - that is, he cheated.
He didn’t put it in: he fooled her by five rubles.
- What does she need five rubles for? Don't care! - Yermilych grumbled. - The master's money has no eyes... So they throw it away. Alexey Ivanovich benefits from this. This is how he crucified himself in front of the lady: he sings like a nightingale.
- She’s wearing a silk dress, a gold watch, so many rings... A rich lady!
– Well, that’s still unknown. One appearance for another time. There are all sorts of gentlemen...
Dear little Volodya explained to his mother that Proshka was “spitting.”
- What does it mean? – she didn’t understand.
- And he turns the wheel, - well, he went out: he turned it. Not a spit, mom, but a spit.
III
Poor Proshka was often interested in the question of those unknown people for whom he had to turn the wheel in his corner from morning to night. Other children were having fun, playing and enjoying freedom; and he was exactly tied to his wheel. Proshka understood that other children have fathers and mothers who take care of them and feel sorry for them; and he is an orphan and must earn his own small piece of bread. But there are a lot of orphans in this world, and not all of them have to spin their wheels. At first Proshka hated his wheel, because if it weren’t for him, there would be no need to turn it. It was a completely childish thought. Then Proshka began to hate Alexey Ivanovich, to whom his aunt apprenticed him: Alexey Ivanovich deliberately invented this damned wheel to torment him.
“When I grow up big,” thought Proshka at work, “then I will beat up Alexei Ivanovich, chop the damned wheel with an ax and run away into the forest.”
Proshka liked the last thought the most. What could be better than a forest? Oh, how good it is there!.. The grass is green, green, the pines are rustling in their tops, icy springs are oozing from the ground, every bird sings in its own way - there is no need to die! Build a hut out of pine needles, light a fire, and live like a bird. Let others suffocate in the cities from dust and spin their wheels... Proshka already saw himself as free as a bird.
“I’ll run away!” Proshka decided a thousand times, as if he were arguing with someone. “I won’t even beat Alexei Ivanovich, I’ll just run away.”
Proshka thought all day long, turning his wheel and thinking, thinking endlessly. It was uncomfortable to talk while working, not like other masters. And Proshka was thinking all the time, thinking to the point that he began to see his thoughts as if they were alive. He often saw himself, and certainly big and healthy, like Spirka. It's good to be big. I didn’t like it with one owner, so I went to work for another.
The hatred for Alexey Ivanovich also passed when Proshka realized that all owners are the same, and that Alexey Ivanovich does not wish him harm at all, but does the same thing that they did to him when he was the same skewer as Proshka is now. This means that those people who need all these amethysts, emeralds, heavyweights are to blame - they forced Proshka to turn his wheel. Immediately, Proshka’s imagination refused to work, and he could not imagine these countless enemies, merging for him in one word “gentlemen.” One thing was clear to him: they were evil. Why do they need these stones, which are so easy to do without? If the gentlemen had not bought stones from Alexei Ivanovich, he would have had to give up his workshop - and that’s all. And the lady over there brought some more children... Indeed, there is something to admire... Proshka saw in a dream this lady who had stones on her hands, and on her neck, and in her ears, and on her head. He hated her and even said:
- Ugh! evil...
It seemed to him that the lady’s eyes shone, like a polished stone shines - green, angry, like a cat’s at night.
None of the masters could understand why the lady needed Proshka in particular. Alexey Ivanovich would have come himself and even slipped ten rubles worth of goods; and what can Proshka understand?
“It’s the master’s whim, and nothing more,” Yermilych grumbled.
Alexey Ivanovich was also dissatisfied. Firstly, it was impossible to let Proshka in at home - that meant spending money on a shirt; and secondly, who knows, lady, what’s on her mind!
“Wash your snout,” he had been punishing Proshka since the evening. - Understand? Otherwise you will come to the lady like hell...
In view of these preparations, Proshka began to become cowardly. He even tried to wriggle out, citing the fact that his leg hurt. Alexey Ivanovich became furious and, showing his fist, said:
– I’ll show you how my legs hurt!..
It must be said that Alexey Ivanovich never fought like other masters, and very rarely cursed. He usually agreed with everyone, promised everything and fulfilled nothing.
Proshka had to go in the morning, when the lady was drinking coffee. Alexey Ivanovich examined Proshka as if he were a new recruit and said:
- Don’t be shy, Proshka! And the gentlemen are the same people - cut from the same skin as we sinners. The lady ordered amethysts; and I’ll give you a couple more beryls, heavyweights, and almandines. Understand? You need to be able to show the product...
Alexey Ivanovich taught how much to ask for, how much to give in and not to give less of what. The lady, perhaps, will take pity on the boy and buy it.
When Proshka was leaving, Alexey Ivanovich stopped him at the very door and added:
- Look, don’t talk too much... Do you understand? If the lady asks about food and so on... “We, madam, eat with silver spoons.”
Proshka had to walk through the entire city, and the closer he came to the lady’s apartment, the more scared he became. He himself did not know what he was afraid of, and yet he was afraid. Shyness completely overwhelmed him when he saw a large two-story stone house. Even the thought of escape flashed through Proshka’s head. What if you take it and run into the forest?
Reluctantly, he made his way into the kitchen and found out that the lady was at home. The maid in a starched white apron looked him up and down suspiciously and reluctantly went to report “herself.” Instead, Volodya came running into the kitchen, dressed in a short funny jacket, short funny pants, stockings and shoes.
“Come on, spit!..” he invited Proshka. - Mom is waiting.
They walked along a corridor, then through the dining room, and then into the nursery, where the lady herself was waiting, dressed in a wide house dress.
- Well, show me what you brought! - she said in a melodious, fresh voice and, looking at Proshka, added: - How thin you are! Real chicken!
Proshka with a serious look took out the goods and began to show the stones. He was no longer afraid of anything. The lady did not look angry at all. Alexey Ivanovich’s calculation was justified: she examined the stones and bought everything without haggling. Proshka internally triumphed that he had so cleverly cheated the lady of three rubles. He was only embarrassed that she always looked at him in a special way and smiled.
-You probably want to eat? – she finally said. - Yes?
This simple question confused Proshka, as if the lady had guessed his secret thoughts. When he was waiting in the kitchen, it smelled so good of fried meat and this appetizing smell followed him all the time.
“I don’t know,” he answered childishly.
- He wants it, mom! – Volodya picked up. “I’ll run into the kitchen now and tell Matryona to give her a cutlet.”
Volodya was a kind boy, and this made his mother happy. After all, the most important thing in a person is a good heart. Proshka felt embarrassed, like an animal caught in a trap. He silently looked around the room and was surprised that there were such large and bright rooms. There was a closet with toys against one wall; In addition, toys were lying on the floor, standing in the corner, hanging on the wall. There were children's guns, and a soldier's box, and a mill, and horses, and houses, and picture books - a real toy store.
– Are these all your toys? – Proshka asked Volodya.
- My. But I don’t play anymore because I’m too big. Do you also have toys?
Proshka laughed. He has toys! What a funny little guy he is: he absolutely doesn’t understand anything!
The maid who served the cutlet in the dining room looked at Proshka with surprise. This way, the lady will soon gather all the beggars into the house and feed them cutlets. Proshka felt this and looked at the maid with serious eyes. Then he was troubled by the fork and the napkin, especially the last one. While he was eating, the lady simply and affectionately asked him about everything: how long had he been in the workshop, how much work he had to do, how the owner fed the workers, what does he do on holidays, does he know how to read and write, etc.
“You see, Volodya,” she said to her son, “this boy has been earning his own piece of bread since the age of seven... Proshka, do you want to study?”
- Don't know…
– Do you want to come to us on Sundays? I will teach you to read and write. I’ll talk to Alexei Ivanovich about this myself.
Proshka was puzzled.
He returned home in Volodya’s old jacket, which was even wide at the shoulders, although Volodya was two whole years younger. Barchuk was so tall and well-fed. The workers laughed at him, as they laughed at everyone, and the owner praised him:
- Well done; Proshka! When you go on Sunday, I’ll give you more goods...
