I dedicate to my son

I

In a semi-dark cramped room, on the floor, under the window, lies my father, dressed in white and unusually long; the toes of his bare feet are strangely splayed, the fingers of the tender hands, quietly placed on his chest, are also crooked; his cheerful eyes are tightly covered with black circles of copper coins, his kind face is dark and frightens me with badly bared teeth. Mother, half-naked, in a red skirt, is on her knees, combing her father's long soft hair from her forehead to the back of her head with a black comb, with which I used to saw through the rinds of watermelons; mother continuously says something in a thick, hoarse voice, her gray eyes are swollen and seem to melt, flowing down large drops of tears. My grandmother is holding my hand - round, big-headed, with huge eyes and a funny, loose nose; she is all black, soft and surprisingly interesting; she, too, is crying, somehow especially and well singing to her mother, trembling all over and pulling me, pushing me to my father; I resist, I hide behind her; I'm scared and embarrassed. I had never seen the big ones cry, and I did not understand the words repeatedly said by my grandmother: - Say goodbye to your aunt, you will never see him again, he died, my dear, at the wrong time, at the wrong time ... I was seriously ill, I had just got on my feet; during my illness—I remember it well—my father fiddled with me merrily, then he suddenly disappeared and was replaced by my grandmother, a strange person. — Where did you come from? I asked her. She answered: - From the top, from the Lower, but did not come, but arrived! They don't walk on water, shish! It was ridiculous and incomprehensible: upstairs, in the house, lived bearded, dyed Persians, and in the basement, an old yellow Kalmyk sold sheepskins. You can ride down the stairs on the railing or, when you fall, roll somersault - I knew that well. And what's with the water? Everything is wrong and funny confused. - And why am I shish? "Because you're making noise," she said, also laughing. She spoke kindly, cheerfully, fluently. I made friends with her from the very first day, and now I want her to leave this room with me as soon as possible. My mother suppresses me; her tears and howls ignited in me a new, unsettling feeling. This is the first time I see her like this - she was always strict, she spoke little; she is clean, smooth and big like a horse; she has a rigid body and terribly strong arms. And now she is somehow unpleasantly swollen and disheveled, everything on her is torn; the hair, lying neatly on the head, in a large light hat, scattered over the bare shoulder, fell on the face, and half of it, braided, dangles, touching the sleeping father's face. I have been standing in the room for a long time, but she never once looked at me, she combs her father's hair and growls all the time, choking with tears. Black men and a watchman peep in at the door. He angrily shouts: - Hurry up and clean it up! The window is covered with a dark shawl; it swells like a sail. One day my father took me on a boat with a sail. Suddenly thunder struck. My father laughed, squeezed me tightly with his knees and shouted: - Don't be afraid, Luke! Suddenly the mother threw herself heavily from the floor, immediately sank down again, rolled over on her back, scattering her hair across the floor; her blind, white face turned blue, and, baring her teeth like a father, she said in a terrible voice: "Shut the door... Alexei, get out!" Pushing me away, my grandmother rushed to the door, shouted: - Dear ones, do not be afraid, do not touch, leave for Christ's sake! This is not cholera, childbirth has come, have mercy, fathers! I hid behind a chest in a dark corner and from there watched how my mother wriggled along the floor, groaning and gritting her teeth, and grandmother, crawling around, said affectionately and joyfully: In the name of father and son! Be patient, Varyusha! Holy Mother of God, intercessor... I'm scared; they fumble around on the floor near the father, hurt him, groan and shout, but he is motionless and seems to be laughing. It went on for a long time - a fuss on the floor; more than once a mother got to her feet and fell again; grandma rolled out of the room like a big black soft ball; then suddenly a child screamed in the darkness. - Glory to you, Lord! Grandma said. - Boy! And lit a candle. I must have fallen asleep in the corner - I don't remember anything else. The second imprint in my memory is a rainy day, a deserted corner of a cemetery; I stand on a slippery mound of sticky earth and look into the pit where my father's coffin was lowered; there is a lot of water at the bottom of the pit and there are frogs - two have already climbed onto the yellow lid of the coffin. At the grave - me, my grandmother, a wet alarm clock and two angry men with shovels. Warm rain showers everyone, fine as beads. "Bury it," said the watchman, walking away. Grandmother began to cry, hiding her face in the end of her headscarf. The peasants, bending over, hurriedly began to dump the earth into the grave, water splashed; jumping off the coffin, the frogs began to rush to the walls of the pit, clods of earth knocked them to the bottom. "Go away, Lenya," Grandmother said, taking me by the shoulder; I slipped out from under her arms, I didn't want to leave. - What are you, Lord, - grandmother complained, either at me, or at God, and for a long time she stood in silence, her head bowed; the grave has already leveled to the ground, but it still stands. The peasants thumped the ground with their shovels; The wind came up and drove away, carried away the rain. Grandmother took me by the hand and led me to a distant church, among many dark crosses. - You won't cry? she asked as she stepped outside the fence. - I would cry! “I don't want to,” I said. “Well, if you don’t want to, you don’t have to,” she said softly. All this was surprising: I rarely cried and only from resentment, not from pain; my father always laughed at my tears, and my mother shouted: - Don't you dare cry! Then we drove along a wide, very dirty street in a droshky, among dark red houses; I asked my grandmother - Aren't the frogs coming out? “No, they won’t come out,” she replied. — God be with them! Neither father nor mother uttered the name of God so often and relatedly. A few days later I, grandmother and mother were traveling on a steamer, in a small cabin; my newborn brother Maxim died and lay on the table in the corner, wrapped in white, swaddled with red braid. Perching on bundles and chests, I look out the window, convex and round, like a horse's eye; muddy, foamy water pours endlessly behind the wet glass. Sometimes she, throwing herself up, licks the glass. I involuntarily jump to the floor. "Don't be afraid," Grandma says, and, lightly lifting me up with her soft hands, puts me back on the knots. Above the water is a gray, wet fog; somewhere far away, a dark land appears and disappears again into mist and water. Everything around is shaking. Only the mother, with her hands behind her head, stands leaning against the wall, firmly and motionless. Her face is dark, iron and blind, her eyes are firmly closed, she is silent all the time, and all of her is different, new, even her dress is unfamiliar to me. Grandmother said to her more than once quietly: - Varya, would you like to eat something, a little, huh? She is silent and motionless. My grandmother speaks to me in a whisper, and to my mother - louder, but somehow carefully, timidly and very little. I think she is afraid of her mother. This is understandable to me and very close to my grandmother. “Saratov,” my mother said unexpectedly loudly and angrily. - Where is the sailor? Her words are strange, alien: Saratov, sailor. A broad, gray-haired man dressed in blue came in and brought a small box. Grandmother took him and began to lay down his brother's body, laid him down and carried him to the door on outstretched arms, but, being fat, she could only go through the narrow cabin door sideways and hesitated comically in front of her. “Oh, mother,” shouted the mother, took the coffin from her, and they both disappeared, and I remained in the cabin, looking at the blue peasant. - What, your brother left? he said, leaning towards me.- Who are you? — Sailor. - And Saratov - who? - City. Look out the window, there it is! Outside the window the earth was moving; dark, steep, it smoked with mist, resembling a large piece of bread, just cut off from a loaf. - Where did grandma go? - Bury a grandson. Will they bury it in the ground? — And how? Bury. I told the sailor how the living frogs had been buried to bury my father. He picked me up in his arms, hugged me tightly and kissed me. “Oh, brother, you don’t understand anything yet! - he said. “You don’t need to feel sorry for the frogs, God bless them!” Have pity on your mother—look how her grief hurt her! Above us buzzed, howled. I already knew that it was a steamer, and I was not afraid, but the sailor hurriedly lowered me to the floor and rushed out, saying:- We must run! And I also wanted to run away. I went out the door. It was empty in the semi-dark narrow crack. Not far from the door, the copper on the steps of the stairs gleamed. Looking up, I saw people with knapsacks and bundles in their hands. It was clear that everyone was leaving the ship, which meant that I also had to leave. But when, together with a crowd of peasants, I found myself at the side of the steamer, in front of the bridges to the shore, everyone began to shout at me: — Whose is it? Whose are you?- Don't know. I was pushed, shaken, felt for a long time. Finally, a gray-haired sailor appeared and seized me, explaining: - This is Astrakhan, from the cabin ... At a run, he carried me to the cabin, put me on the bundles and left, shaking his finger:- I'll ask you! The noise overhead became quieter, the steamer no longer trembled and thumped on the water. Some kind of wet wall blocked the cabin window; it became dark, stuffy, the knots seemed to be swollen, embarrassing me, and everything was not good. Maybe they will leave me forever alone in an empty ship? Went to the door. It does not open, its brass handle cannot be turned. Taking the bottle of milk, I hit the handle with all my might. The bottle broke, the milk spilled over my legs, leaked into my boots. Disappointed by the failure, I lay down on the bundles, wept softly and, in tears, fell asleep. And when he woke up, the ship was thumping and trembling again, the cabin window burned like the sun. Grandmother, sitting next to me, combed her hair and grimaced, whispering something. She had a strange amount of hair, they densely covered her shoulders, chest, knees and lay on the floor, black, shimmering blue. Raising them from the floor with one hand and holding them in the air, she with difficulty inserted a wooden, rare-toothed comb into the thick strands; her lips curled up, her dark eyes sparkled angrily, and her face in this mass of hair became small and comical. Today she seemed angry, but when I asked why she had such long hair, she said in yesterday's warm and soft voice: - Apparently, the Lord gave it as a punishment - comb them here, damned ones! From my youth, I boasted of this mane, I swear in my old age! And you sleep! It's still early - the sun has just risen from the night ... - I don't want to sleep! "Well, don't sleep otherwise," she agreed at once, braiding her hair and glancing at the sofa, where her mother was lying face up, stretched out like a string. - How did you crack a bottle yesterday? Speak softly! She spoke, singing the words in a special way, and they were easily strengthened in my memory, like flowers, just as tender, bright, juicy. When she smiled, her pupils, dark as cherries, dilated, flashing with an inexpressibly pleasant light, the smile cheerfully revealed strong white teeth, and, despite the many wrinkles in the dark skin of her cheeks, her whole face seemed young and bright. This loose nose with swollen nostrils and red at the end spoiled him very much. She sniffed tobacco from a black snuffbox adorned with silver. She was all dark, but glowed from within—through her eyes—with an inextinguishable, cheerful, and warm light. She was stooped, almost hunchbacked, very plump, but she moved lightly and dexterously, like a big cat, and she was as soft as this affectionate animal. Before her, it was as if I had been sleeping, hidden in the dark, but she appeared, woke me up, brought me to the light, tied everything around me into a continuous thread, wove everything into multi-colored lace and immediately became a friend for life, closest to my heart, the most understandable and dear person - it was her selfless love for the world that enriched me, saturating me with strong strength for a difficult life. Forty years ago steamships sailed slowly; we drove to Nizhny for a very long time, and I remember well those first days of saturation with beauty. Good weather has set in; from morning to evening I am with my grandmother on deck, under a clear sky, between the banks of the Volga, gilded in autumn, with silks embroidered. Slowly, lazily and resonantly thumping with their plates on the grayish-blue water, a light-red steamer stretches upstream, with a barge in a long tow. The barge is gray and looks like a wood lice. The sun floats imperceptibly over the Volga; every hour everything around is new, everything changes; green mountains are like lush folds on the rich clothes of the earth; cities and villages stand along the banks, as if gingerbread from afar; a golden autumn leaf floats on the water. - You look how good it is! Grandmother says every minute, moving from side to side, and she is all radiant, and her eyes are joyfully widened. Often, looking at the shore, she forgot about me: she stands at the side, arms folded on her chest, smiles and is silent, and there are tears in her eyes. I tug at her dark, floral-heeled skirt. - Ash? she will startle. - And I seemed to doze off and see a dream. - What are you crying about? “This, my dear, is from joy and from old age,” she says, smiling. - I'm already old, for the sixth decade of summer-spring my spread-gone. And, sniffing tobacco, he begins to tell me some outlandish stories about good robbers, about holy people, about every beast and evil spirits. She tells fairy tales quietly, mysteriously, bending down to my face, looking into my eyes with dilated pupils, as if pouring strength into my heart, lifting me up. He speaks, sings exactly, and the further, the more fluently the words sound. It is indescribably pleasant to listen to her. I listen and ask:- More! - And here's how it was: an old brownie was sitting in the oven, he was stabbing his paw with noodles, swaying, whimpering: "Oh, mice, it hurts, oh, mice, I can't stand it!" Raising her leg, she grabs it with her hands, shakes it in the air and wrinkles her face funny, as if she herself is in pain. Sailors are standing around - bearded gentle men - they listen, laugh, praise her and also ask: “Come on, grandma, tell me something else!” Then they say: - Come and have dinner with us! At dinner they treat her with vodka, me with watermelons and melons; this is done secretly: a man rides on the steamboat, who forbids eating fruit, takes it away and throws it into the river. He is dressed like a watchman - with brass buttons - and is always drunk; people hide from him. Mother rarely comes on deck and keeps aloof from us. She is still silent, mother. Her large, slender body, her dark, iron face, her heavy crown of blond hair braided into braids—she is all powerful and firm—are remembered to me as if through a mist or a transparent cloud; straight gray eyes, as large as my grandmother's, look out of it distantly and unfriendly. One day she said sternly: “People are laughing at you, mother!” “God bless them!” Grandmother answered carelessly. - And let them laugh, for good health! I remember my grandmother's childhood joy at the sight of the Lower. Pulling my hand, she pushed me to the side and shouted: "Look, look, how good it is!" Here it is, father, the Lower one! Here it is, gods! Churches, look at you, they seem to be flying! And the mother asked, almost crying: - Varyusha, look, tea, huh? Come on, I forgot! Rejoice! The mother smiled grimly. When the steamer stopped in front of the beautiful city, in the middle of the river, closely cluttered with ships, bristling with hundreds of sharp masts, a large boat with many people swam up to its side, hooked to the lowered ladder with a hook, and one by one the people from the boat began to climb onto the deck. In front of everyone, a small, scrawny old man walked quickly, in a long black robe, with a beard as red as gold, with a bird's nose and green eyes. - Papa! her mother shouted thickly and loudly and tipped over on him, and he, grabbing her by the head, quickly stroking her cheeks with her small red hands, shouted, screeching: — What-oh, fool? Aha! That's it... Oh, you... Grandmother hugged and kissed everyone at once, turning like a screw; she pushed me towards the people and said hurriedly: - Well, hurry up! This is Uncle Mikhailo, this is Yakov ... Aunt Natalya, these are brothers, both Sashas, ​​sister Katerina, this is our whole tribe, that's how many! Grandpa told her: — Are you well, mother? They kissed three times. Grandfather pulled me out of a close crowd of people and asked, holding my head: — Whose will you be? — Astrakhan, from the cabin... — What is he saying? - Grandfather turned to his mother and, without waiting for an answer, pushed me away, saying: - Cheekbones, those fathers ... Get off into the boat! We drove down to the shore and in a crowd went uphill, along a ramp paved with large cobblestones, between two high slopes covered with withered, flattened grass. Grandfather and mother walked ahead of everyone. He was tall under her arm, walked small and fast, and she, looking down at him, seemed to float through the air. Their uncles silently followed them: black smooth-haired Mikhail, dry as a grandfather; light and curly Yakov, some fat women in bright dresses and about six children, all older than me and all quiet. I was walking with my grandmother and little aunt Natalia. Pale, blue-eyed, with a huge belly, she often stopped and, panting, whispered:— Oh, I can't! Why did they bother you? grumbled the grandmother angrily. “Eko stupid tribe!” Both adults and children - I didn’t like everyone, I felt like a stranger among them, even my grandmother somehow faded, moved away. I especially did not like my grandfather; I immediately sensed an enemy in him, and I had a special attention to him, a cautious curiosity. We reached the end of the convention. At the very top of it, leaning against the right slope and starting a street, stood a squat one-story house, painted dirty pink, with a low roof pulled down and bulging windows. From the street it seemed large to me, but inside it, in small semi-dark rooms, it was crowded; everywhere, as on a steamboat in front of the pier, angry people bustled about, children darted about in a flock of thieving sparrows, and everywhere there was a pungent, unfamiliar smell. I found myself in the yard. The yard was also unpleasant: it was all hung with huge wet rags, stuffed with vats of thick multicolored water. The rags were also wet in it. In the corner, in a low, dilapidated annex, firewood was burning hot in the stove, something was boiling, gurgling, and an invisible man was loudly saying strange words: - Sandalwood - magenta - vitriol ...

Lesson 52 A. M. GORKY. CHAPTERS FROM THE STORY "CHILDHOOD"

02.02.2012 28623 2371

Lesson 52 A. M. GORKY. Chapters from the story "Childhood"

Goals : to teach to work on compiling the characteristics of characters, colored by the transfer of Alyosha's impressions from the inhabitants of the Kashirins' house; to form the ability to illustrate individual statements and assessments of the author with specific examples from the text of the work.

During the classes

I. Organizational moment.

II. Card work.

- Whose portrait is described in the above excerpt from M. Gorky's story "Childhood"? What role did this heroine play in the fate of Alyosha?

She spoke in a special way singing the words, and they were easily strengthened in my memory, like flowers, just as affectionate, bright, juicy. When she smiled, her pupils, dark as cherries, dilated, flashing with an inexpressibly pleasant light, the smile cheerfully revealed strong white teeth, and, despite the many wrinkles in the dark skin of her cheeks, her whole face seemed young to light. This loose nose with swollen nostrils and red at the end spoiled him very much. She sniffed tobacco from a black snuffbox adorned with silver. All of it is dark, but bright from the inside - through the eyes - inextinguishable, cheerful; and warm light. She is round-shouldered, almost humpbacked, very plump, but she moved lightly and dexterously, like a big cat, and she is as soft as this affectionate animal.

Before her, it was as if I had been sleeping, hidden in the dark, but she appeared, woke me up, brought me to the light, tied everything around me into a continuous thread, weaved everything into multi-colored lace and immediately became a friend for life, the closest to my heart, the most understandable and dear person - it was her disinterested love for the world that enriched me, saturating me with the strong power of love for the world.

(This is a portrait of Alyosha’s grandmother, Akulina Ivanovna, who became a friend to her grandson for many years, who revealed to him many of her ideas about people, about God, about the world, about goodness, about mercy. Her love for people was effective, Akulina Ivanovna tried to help them. And most importantly, she saw beauty in life, rejoiced at it and taught Alyosha this.)

What artistic means that make the story about the grandmother look like works of oral folk art can you note? (In this description, M. Gorky uses inversion (rearrangement of words) - “she said”, “spoiled his ... nose”, “I seemed to be sleeping before her”, etc.

There are many comparisons - “words that look like flowers”, “pupils dark like cherries”, “like a big cat”, etc.

There are many epithets in the grandmother’s portrait that depict both her appearance and character - “affectionate, bright, juicy” words, “strong white teeth”, “her face seemed young and bright”, she shone with an “unquenchable, cheerful and warm light” and etc.)

III. Analysis of the second chapter of the story.

Questions session.

– “Now, reviving the past, I myself hardly believe that everything was exactly like that ... I want to dispute, refute a lot ...”. What did the author believe with difficulty and what would you like to refute? (The uncles demanded the division of property. A quarrel and a fight during dinner at the table. The story with a thimble. The attitude of the brothers Yakov and Mikhail to Alexei's mother. (Mother ... knew how to speak short words ... "My mother is the strongest!") The story with the tablecloth (Sasha Uncle Yakov is a serious boy; he always kept himself in sight of adults, affectionate with everyone, ready to serve everyone and in every possible way. Adults praised him for his mind, for obedience, but grandfather said: “What a toady!” It was Sasha who advised Alyosha to take a white "Sasha squealed ... disgustingly:" I won't-y ... After all, I said about the tablecloth ... ")

- What has changed in Alexei after the punishment? (“... I hovered restless attention to people ... sensitive to any insult and pain, their own and others ...” He knows life.)

Why did he feel sad when he heard the conversation between his mother and grandmother? (“I prevent her from leaving home ... it was very sad. He received another life lesson: “... mother is not strong; she, like everyone else, is afraid of her grandfather.)

- What influenced the change in attitude towards your grandfather? (Every day he taught him life lessons, he grew up, began to understand the suffering of another person, reached out for the good that was in the soul of this person. And there was a lot of good in Kashirin: appearance (“He was all folding, chiseled, sharp. His satin , embroidered with silk ... Cleaner and more beautiful than sons ...), his attitude towards sycophancy ("What a sycophant", "The first whip for an informer" ...) Grandfather talks about his difficult childhood, and Alyosha already sees, as it were, a different person. Alyosha's perception of appearance also changes grandfather. The further the grandfather tells the story, the more strong, hardy, courageous he seems to his grandson. "He spoke and quickly, like a cloud, grew in front of me, turning from a small, dry old man into a man of fabulous strength."

- Why, looking at the Gypsy, did Alyosha recall grandmother's tales about Ivan Tsarevich, about Ivanushka the Fool? ( Gypsy's sparkling, bright, joyful appearance, his "silk, affectionate laughter", kind, simple words, modest, selfless deeds - everything is close to Alyosha, evokes the same feelings as beloved, kind heroes of grandmother's fairy tales. A visit to Gypsy is “the most vivid impression of these days” for him.)

Conclusion D. Alyosha, who lived in a family in an atmosphere of kindness, love, care, began to understand that there are other aspects of life that affect a person and his life; next to cruelty, rudeness live the unselfish love of the grandmother for the world, the generosity of the Gypsy, the wise prudence and tolerance for the people of Grigory Ivanovich.

IV. Summing up the lesson.

- What did Alyosha like in his grandfather?

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Separate participial and adverbial phrases. She spoke, singing the words in a special way, and they were easily strengthened in my memory, like flowers, just as tender, bright, juicy. When she smiled, her pupils, dark as cherries, dilated, flashing with an inexpressibly pleasant light, the smile cheerfully revealed strong white teeth, and, despite the many wrinkles in the dark skin of her cheeks, her whole face seemed young and bright. This loose nose with swollen nostrils and red at the end spoiled him very much. She sniffed tobacco from a black snuffbox adorned with silver. All of it is dark, but it shone from within - through the eyes - with an unquenchable, cheerful and warm light. She was stooped, almost hunchbacked, very plump, but she moved easily and dexterously, like a big cat - she is soft, just like this affectionate animal. Before her, it was as if I had been sleeping, hidden in the dark, but she appeared, woke me up, brought me to the light, tied everything around me into a continuous thread, wove everything into multi-colored lace and immediately became a friend for life, closest to my heart, the most understandable and dear person - it was her disinterested love for the world that enriched me, saturating me with strong strength for a difficult life. Forty years ago steamships sailed slowly; we drove to Nizhny for a very long time, and I remember well those first days of saturation with beauty.

Administrativecontrol dictation

In Russian.

8th grade

Grandmother.

She spoke, somehow especially singing the words, and they were easily strengthened in my memory, like flowers, just as tender, bright, juicy. When she smiled, her pupils, dark as cherries, dilated, flashedwhimpering with an inexpressibly pleasant light, the smile cheerfully revealed strong white teeth, and, despite the many wrinkles in the dark skin of the cheeks, the whole face seemed young and bright. This loose nose with swollen nostrils and red at the end spoiled him very much. She sniffed tobacco from a black snuffbox adorned with silver. She was all dark, but shone from within, through her eyes, with an inextinguishable, cheerful and warm light. She was stooped, almost hunchbacked, very plump, but she moved easily and dexterously, like a big cat..

Before her, as if I was sleeping, ref.hidden in the dark, but she appeared, woke me up, brought me into the light, tied everything around me into a continuous thread, wove it into multi-colored lace and immediately became a friend for life, the closest to my heart, the most understandableth and dear person. It's her disinterestedmy love for the world enriched me, saturating me with strong strength for a difficult life.

M. Bitter "Childhood".

Grammar task:

1 option

Produce a complete syntactic analysis of the sentence: She sniffed ...

From the sentence: All of it ... write out one phrase at a timeconnection with connection, agreement, adjunction, control, and mark the main and dependent word.

Explain the spelling of n-nn in the words:decorate..oh,person..o

Option 2

Perform a full parse of the last sentence.

From the sentence: Veryrtil... write out one phrase at a time with a connection agreement, adjacency, control and markmain and dependent word.

Explain the spelling of n-nn in the words: hidden .. th, special .. o

Administrativecontrol dictation

In Russian.

7th grade

In the Ussuri taiga.

Whoever has not been to the taiga cannot imagine what a thicket it is, what thickets it is. You can't see anything a few steps away. At four or six meters it happened more than once to raise an animal from its bed, and only the noise and crackling of branches indicated the direction in which the animal was leaving. It was in this taiga that we had been walking for two days.

Suddenly, fresh prints of a large cat's paw, clearly visible on the muddy path, stopped us. When we walked here, there were no footprints on the path. The water had not yet filled the footprints pressed by the tiger's paw. There was no doubt that the terrible predator, having heard our voices, rushed into the thicket and hid somewhere behind the windbreak. For several minutes we stood in one place, hoping that some rustle would betray the presence of the tiger, but the silence was deathly. The animal must have gone away.

Grammar tasks.

Perform a complete syntactic analysis of 1 sentence 2 paragraphs.

Determine what part of speech the words in this sentence are.

Write out from paragraph 1 a word with an alternating vowel in the root.

Explain the spelling H-NN in the word vdavle (n, nn) ​​s.

.

Tell me about it quietly.”

Speak softly!

So she always talked, using such peculiarly harmonious words that they took root in my memory like fragrant, bright, everlasting flowers.

She spoke, singing the words in a special way, and they were easily strengthened in my memory, like flowers, just as tender, bright, juicy.

When she smiled the pupils of her dark, luscious eyes dilated and beamed with an inexpressible charm, and her strong white teeth gleamed cheerfully.
Apart from her multitudinous wrinkles and her swarthy complexion, she had a youthful and brilliant appearance.

When she smiled, her pupils, dark as cherries, dilated, flashing with an inexpressibly pleasant light, the smile cheerfully revealed strong white teeth, and, despite the many wrinkles in the dark skin of her cheeks, her whole face seemed young and bright.

What spoiled her was her bulbous nose, with its distended nostrils, and red lips, caused by her habit of taking pinches of snuff from her black snuff-box mounted with silver, and by her fondness for drink.

This loose nose with swollen nostrils and red at the end spoiled him very much.
She sniffed tobacco from a black snuff box adorned with silver.

Everything about her was dark, but within she was luminous with an inextinguishable, joyful and ardent flame, which revealed itself in her eyes.

All of it is dark, but it shone from within - through the eyes - with an inextinguishable, cheerful and warm light.

Although she was bent, almost humpbacked, in fact, she moved lightly and softly, for all the world like a huge cat, and was just as gentle as that caressing animal.

She was stooped, almost hunchbacked, very plump, but she moved easily and dexterously, like a big cat - she is soft, just like this affectionate beast.

Until she came into my life I seemed to have been asleep, and hidden away in obscurity; but when she appeared she woke me and led me to the light of day.
Connecting all my impressions by a single thread, she wove them into a pattern of many colors, thus making herself my friend for life, the being nearest my heart, the dearest and best known of all; while her disinterested love for all creation enriched me, and built up the strength needful for a hard life.

Before her, it was as if I had been sleeping, hidden in the dark, but she appeared, woke me up, brought me to the light, tied everything around me into a continuous thread, wove everything into multi-colored lace and immediately became a friend for life, closest to my heart, the most understandable and dear person - it was her disinterested love for the world that enriched me, saturating me with strong strength for a difficult life.

Forty years ago boats traveled slowly; we were a long time getting to Nijni, and I shall never forget those days almost overladen with beauty.

Forty years ago steamships sailed slowly; we drove to Nizhny for a very long time, and I remember well those first days of saturation with beauty.

Good weather had set in.
From morning till night I was on the deck with grandmother, under a clear sky, gliding between the autumn-gilded shores of the Volga, without hurry, lazily; and, with many resounding groans, as she rose and fell on the gray-blue water, a barge attached by a long rope was being drawn along by the bright red steamer.

Good weather has set in; from morning to evening I am with my grandmother on deck, under a clear sky, between the banks of the Volga, gilded in autumn, with silks embroidered.
Slowly, lazily and resonantly thumping with their plates on the grayish-blue water, a light-red steamer stretches upstream, with a barge in a long tow.

The barge was gray, and reminded me of a wood-louse.

The barge is gray and looks like a wood lice.

Unperceived, the sun floated over the Volga.
Every hour we were in the midst of fresh scenes; the green hills rose up like rich folds on earth's sumptuous vesture; on the shore stood towns and villages; the golden autumn leaves floated on the water.

The sun floats imperceptibly over the Volga; every hour around everything is new, everything changes; green mountains - like lush folds on the rich clothes of the earth; cities and villages stand along the banks, as if gingerbread from afar; a golden autumn leaf floats on the water.