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How to draw an illustration for the fairy tale "Moroz Ivanovich" in stages? How to draw Santa Claus with a pencil step by step Illustrations for parts of the fairy tale Moroz Ivanovich

• Describe the Needlewoman and Sloth using the words:
  hardworking, caring, kind, affectionate, sympathetic, rude, modest, arrogant, inattentive, ungrateful, capricious.

The needlewoman is hardworking, kind, respectful, modest, responsive. The sloth is lazy, evil, disrespectful, rude, arrogant, disrespectful, arrogant. The author contrasted the characters and behavior of two girls using the contrast technique.

• How does the author feel about the Needlewoman and Sloth? Why do you think so? Confirm with text.

Confirm text:

“The needlewoman was a smart girl: she got up early, herself, without a nanny, dressed, and getting out of bed, she got down to business: she stoked the stove, kneaded bread, chalked the hut, fed the rooster, and then went to the well for water.
Meanwhile, Sloth lay in bed, stretched, rolled over from side to side... She gets up, jumps and sits by the window to count the flies... As soon as Sloth counts everyone, she doesn’t know what to do and what to do. .. She sits, miserable, and cries and complains to everyone that she is bored, as if others are to blame.
Meanwhile, the Needlewoman returns, strains the water, pours it into jugs; and what an entertainer: if the water is unclean, he will roll up a sheet of paper, put coals in it and pour coarse sand, insert that paper into a jug and pour water into it, and the water, you know, passes through the sand and through the coals and drops into the jug is clean, like crystal; and then the Needlewoman will begin to knit stockings or cut scarves, or even sew shirts and cut them, and even drag out a needlework song; and she was never bored, because she had no time to be bored either: now on this, now on another business, and here, you look, the evening has passed - the day has passed.

The needlewoman began to whip the snow so that the old man could sleep softer, but meanwhile, her poor hands ossified and her fingers turned white, like those of poor people, who rinse their linen in the ice-hole in winter: it’s cold, and the wind in the face, and the linen freezes, it costs a stake, but there is nothing to do - poor people work.

"Meanwhile, the needlewoman cleaned up everything in the house, went to the kitchen, prepared food, mended the old man's dress and darned linen."

Sloth’s rudeness is manifested in the very speech: “I have to tire myself - raise the shovel and reach into the stove; if you want, you will jump out yourself” (pie) ... “I have to tire myself - raise my hands, pull the boughs ... (to apples)... "I came to you to serve and get a job" (Moroz Ivanovich).

The attitude of Lenivitsa to work with Moroz Ivanovich: “Maybe it will pass anyway. It was free for the sister to take on the work; kind old man, he will give me piglets for free.

Without a twinge of conscience, Sloth demands a reward from Frost and grabs it without thanking the old man.

• Divide the fairy tale "Moroz Ivanovich" into parts, name them. Write down the plan. Make illustrations. Retell the text using your drawings.

1. Life of the Needlewoman and Sloth.
2. In the well.
3. Three days with Moroz Ivanovich.
4. Award of the Needlewoman.
5. Sloth goes to serve the old man.
6. Service Sloth.
7. Merit award.
8. Return home.

• What is the difference between a folk tale and a literary one?
  In order to answer this question, it is necessary to compare fairy tales.

• Write down how a literary fairy tale is similar to a folk tale.

A literary fairy tale is similar to a folk tale in that the same heroes act in it as in folk tales, magical powers operate, there are magical objects and helpers in it that help good heroes defeat evil. In the author's fairy tale, as in the folk tale, evil is always punished, good wins. There is a beginning, an ending, triple repetitions, a fantastic scene, the style of the language is close to the folk one, a lot of obsolete words, set expressions (phraseological units, sayings, proverbs).

How's the weather? Is the frost already cracking outside the window? We have "zero" on the street, but the real Moroz Ivanovich settled right at home, but what a! With fabulous drawings by Vladimir Konashevich! Unfortunately, I have not preserved the old book, so I am doubly glad for the new snowy greetings from childhood. Especially when you consider how wonderfully printed illustrations.
I think everyone remembers Vladimir Odoevsky's fairy tale "Moroz Ivanovich", written about two girls - the Needlewoman and Sloth, who fall through a magic well to the gray-haired old man Moroz Ivanovich, and there real miracles await them - a stove with a ruddy pie and an apple tree with golden apples. And what is the work of the girls, such is their reward, to the Needlewoman for her merits - a full bucket of silver coins and a diamond hairpin, and Lenivitsa - an ice icicle.
The plot of this tale is often found in literature, for example, in "Frau Holle" by the Brothers Grimm about a sorceress from a well, rewarding a hardworking girl and punishing a negligent one. Its most famous translation belongs to Pyotr Nikolaevich Polevoy - "Lady Metelitsa", but there are also options, for example, Boris Zakhoder's fairy tale "Grandmother Blizzard". And yet my favorite text, which has absorbed the whole Russian winter, with scope and scope, is Odoevsky's fairy tale. A beautiful literary language, old phrases and outdated words give the story a truly magical flavor (and the way the nanny "wondered" even got accustomed in our family).
Konashevich's illustrations are so bright and detailed that the ice house sparkles on them, and it seems as if you yourself jumped into the well and ended up in the cold kingdom of Moroz Ivanovich, adorned with snow stars. The only disappointment is that the text sometimes lags behind the picture, literally by a few words.
Thought this book was too old for the Prime Reader and wanted to put it off until next year. But from a huge stack of publications that arrived, he chose "Moroz Ivanovich" and refused to let it go. I read it and it turned out that it’s just right now, and will be relevant right up to school, especially the stories of peasants and poor people who are rinsing clothes in the hole, and philosophical explanations for why Santa Claus is knocking on the window. Most of all, the Chief Reader was surprised at the grass under grandfather's feather bed, said, "Now it's clear where she hides for the winter," asked me to tell you what mercury is, and in the store now, when buying a long loaf, he sings: "whoever takes me, he will go with me. ..", very funny. But in general, it is impossible not to notice that the book has sunk into the child’s soul: all the time now she worries whether she is a hardworking girl enough, asks to be taught how to cook something other than scrambled eggs and porridge, and sew, and trains to fasten buttons. Here it is - the marvelous power of the impact of a correct and kind fairy tale.

Whole book:

V two girls lived in the same house: the Needlewoman and Lenivitsa, and with them a nanny. The needlewoman was a smart girl, she got up early, dressed herself without a nanny, and getting out of bed, she got down to business: she stoked the stove, kneaded bread, chalked the hut, fed the rooster, and then went to the well for water. Meanwhile, Sloth lay in bed; Is it really boring to lie down, so waking up will say:
- Nanny, put on my stockings, nanny, tie my shoes.
And then he will say:
- Nanny, is there a bun? - He gets up, jumps, and sits by the window of flies to count how many have arrived, and how many have flown away. As Sloth counts everyone, he doesn’t know what to start and what to do; she would like to go to bed - but she does not want to sleep; she would like to eat - but she doesn’t feel like eating; she should have counted flies at the window - and even then she was tired; she sits miserable and cries and complains to everyone that she is bored, as if others are to blame.
Meanwhile, the Needlewoman returns, strains the water, pours it into jugs; and what an entertainer: if the water is unclean, she will roll up a sheet of paper, put coals in it and pour coarse sand, insert that paper into a jug and pour water into it, and water, you know, passes through the sand and through the coals, and drips into a jug clean, clean, like crystal; and then the Needlewoman will begin to knit stockings or cut scarves, or even sew shirts and cut them, and even drag out a needlework song; and she was never bored, because she had no time to be bored either: now on this, now on another business, here you look at the evening - the day has passed. Once, a misfortune happened to the Needlewoman: she went to the well for water, lowered the bucket on the rope, and the rope broke, the bucket fell into the well. How to be here? The poor needlewoman burst into tears and went to the nanny to tell about her misfortune and misfortune, and nanny Praskovya was so strict and angry, she said:
- You yourself made the trouble, and correct it yourself. She drowned the bucket herself, and get it herself.
There was nothing to do; the poor Needlewoman went again to the well, grabbed the rope and went down it to the very bottom.

Only then a miracle happened to her. As soon as she went downstairs, she looked: there was a stove in front of her, and a pie was sitting in the stove, so ruddy, fried; sits, looks and says:
- I'm quite ready, browned, fried with sugar and raisins; whoever takes me out of the oven will go with me.
The needlewoman, without any hesitation, grabbed a spatula, took out a pie and put it in her bosom.
She goes further. There is a garden in front of her, and in the garden there is a tree, and golden apples on the tree; apples move their leaves and say among themselves:
- We, plump, ripe apples, ate the root of the tree, washed ourselves with icy water; whoever shakes us from the tree will take us for himself.
The needlewoman went up to the tree, shook it by the branch, and the golden apples fell down into her apron.

The needlewoman moves on. She looks: in front of her sits an old man Moroz Ivanovich, gray-haired; he sits on an ice bench and eats snowballs; shakes his head - frost falls from his hair, he dies in spirit - thick steam pours out.
- A! - he said. - Hello, Needlewoman; thank you for bringing me a pie: for a long time I haven’t eaten anything hot.
Then he sat the Needlewoman next to him, and they had breakfast together with a pie, and ate golden apples.
“I know why you came,” says Moroz Ivanovich, “you dropped a bucket into my student; I’ll give you a bucket, only you serve me for three days; you will be smart, you are better off; If you're lazy, it's worse for you. And now,” added Moroz Ivanovich, “it’s time for me, an old man, to rest; go and make my bed, but look, fluff up the feather bed well.
The needlewoman obeyed... They went into the house. Moroz Ivanovich's house was made of ice: the doors, the windows, and the floor were icy, and the walls were decorated with snow stars; the sun shone on them, and everything in the house shone like diamonds. On Moroz Ivanovich's bed, instead of a feather bed, lay fluffy snow; cold and there was nothing to do. The needlewoman began to churn the snow so that the old man could sleep softer, but meanwhile, her hands, poor, were ossified and her fingers turned white, like those of poor people who rinse their clothes in an ice-hole in winter; and it’s cold, and the wind is in your face, and the laundry will freeze, it’s worth a stake, but there’s nothing to do - poor people work.
“Nothing,” said Moroz Ivanovich, “just rub your fingers with snow, and they will go away, you won’t get a chill.” I'm a kind old man: look at my curiosities.

Then he lifted his snowy featherbed with a blanket, and the Needlewoman saw that green grass was breaking through under the featherbed. The needlewoman felt sorry for the poor weed.
“So you say,” she said, “that you are a kind old man, but why do you keep green grass under a snowy feather bed, don’t let it out into the light of day?”
- I don’t release it, because it’s not time yet; the grass has not yet entered into force ... The good peasant sowed it in the fall, and it sprouted, and if it had stretched out, then winter would have captured it, and by the summer the grass would not have ripened. Here I am,” Moroz Ivanovich continued, “and I covered the young greenery with my snowy feather bed, and even lay down on it myself so that the snow would not be blown away by the wind, but spring will come, the snow feather bed will melt, the grass will grow, and there, you look, the grain will look out.” , and the peasant will collect the grain and take it to the mill; the miller will sweep away the grain, and there will be flour, and from the flour you, Needlewoman, will bake bread.
“Well, tell me, Moroz Ivanovich,” said the Needlewoman, “why are you sitting in the well?”
“Then I’m sitting in the well, that spring is coming,” said Moroz Ivanovich. “It’s getting hot for me; and you know that even in the summer it is cold in the well, that is why the water in the well is cold, even in the middle of the hottest summer.
- And why do you, Moroz Ivanovich, - asked the Needlewoman, - in winter you walk through the streets and knock on the windows?
- And then I knock on the windows, - answered Moroz Ivanovich, - so that they do not forget to heat the stoves and close the pipes in time; otherwise, because I know there are such sluts that they will heat the stove, but they will not close the pipe or they will close it, but at the wrong time, when not all the coals have burned out, and because of this, carbon monoxide happens in the upper room, people’s heads hurt, green in the eyes; You can even die of fumes completely. And then I also knock on the window so that people do not forget that they are sitting in a warm room or putting on a warm fur coat, and that there are beggars in the world who are cold in winter, who do not have a fur coat, and there is nothing to buy firewood; then I knock on the window so that people do not forget to help the poor.

Here the kind Moroz Ivanovich stroked the Needlewoman on the head and lay down to rest on his snowy bed.
Meanwhile, the needlewoman cleaned up everything in the house, went to the kitchen, cooked the food, mended the old man's dress, and darned the linen.
The old man woke up; was very pleased with everything and thanked the Needlewoman. Then they sat down to dine; the table was fine, and the ice-cream that the old man made himself was especially good.
So the Needlewoman lived with Moroz Ivanovich for three whole days. On the third day, Moroz Ivanovich said to the needlewoman:
“Thank you, you smart girl; Well, you comforted the old man, but I will not remain in your debt. You know: people get money for needlework, so here's your bucket for you, and I poured a whole handful of silver patches into the bucket; and besides, here's a diamond for you, as a keepsake - to stab a scarf.
The needlewoman thanked, pinned a diamond, took a bucket, went back to the well, grabbed the rope and went out into the light of day.

As soon as she began to approach the house, like a rooster, which she always fed, saw her, was delighted, flew up to the fence and shouted:

When the Needlewoman came home and told everything that had happened to her, the nanny was very surprised, and then said:
- You see, Sloth, what people get for needlework. Go to the old man and serve him, work: clean his room, cook in the kitchen, mend the dress and darn the linen, and you will earn a handful of nickels, but it will come in handy: we don’t have enough money for the holiday.
It was very distasteful for Sloth to go to work with the old man. But she wanted to get a nickel and a diamond pin too.
Here, following the example of the Needlewoman, Sloth went to the well, grabbed the rope, and bang right to the bottom.
She looks: and in front of her is a stove, and in the stove sits such a ruddy, fried pie; sits, looks and says:
- I'm quite ready, browned, fried with sugar and raisins; whoever takes me, he will go with me!
And Sloth answered him:
- Yes, no matter how! I have to tire myself, raise a shovel and reach into the stove; if you want, you can jump out.
She goes further, in front of her is a garden, and in the garden there is a tree, and golden apples on the tree; apples move their leaves and say among themselves:
- We, apples, liquid, ripe; we feed on the root of the tree, we wash ourselves with icy dew; whoever shakes us from the tree will take us for himself.

“Yes, no matter how it is!” answered Sloth.
And Sloth passed by them. So she came to Moroz Ivanovich. The old man was still sitting on the icy bench and biting the snowballs.
"What do you want, girl?" - he asked.
“I came to you,” Sloth answered, “to serve and get a job.
“You said sensibly, girl,” answered the old man, “money follows the work; just let's see what else your work will be! Go ahead, fluff up my feather bed, and then prepare some food, but mend my dress, and darn my linen.
Lenivitsa went, and on the way she thinks:
“I’ll tire myself out and chill my fingers! Perhaps the old man will not notice and will fall asleep on an unwhipped feather bed.
The old man really did not notice, or pretended not to notice, went to bed and fell asleep, and Sloth went into the kitchen.
Came to the kitchen, and did not know what to do. She loved to eat, but she didn’t even think about how the food was prepared, and she was too lazy to look.
So she looked around: in front of her lies greens, and meat, and fish, and vinegar, and mustard, and kvass, everything in order. So she thought, thought, somehow cleaned the greens, cut the meat and fish, and so as not to give herself much work, then, as everything was, washed-not-washed, she put it in the pan: both greens, and meat, and fish, and mustard, and vinegar, and even added kvass, and she herself thinks: “Why bother yourself, cook each thing especially? After all, everything will be together in the stomach.
Here the old man woke up, asks for dinner. Sloth brought him a pot as it is, she didn’t even spread the tablecloths. Moroz Ivanovich tried it, grimaced, and the sand crunched on his teeth.

"You're a good cook," he remarked, smiling. "Let's see what your other job will be."
Sloth tasted, and immediately spat out, indo she vomited; and the old man groaned, groaned, and began to cook the food himself and made dinner a success, so that Sloth licked her fingers, eating someone else's cooking.
After dinner the old man lay down to rest again, and reminded Lenivitsa that his dress had not been mended and his underwear had not been darned.
The sloth pouted, but there was nothing to do: she began to sort out her dress and linen; Yes, and here is the trouble: Sloth sewed clothes and linen, but how they sew it, she didn’t ask about it; she took a needle, but out of habit she pricked herself; so she threw it away.
And the old man again seemed not to notice anything, he called Sloth to dinner and even put her to bed.
And Lenivitsa is a pleasure; thinks to himself:
“Maybe it will pass. It was free for the sister to take on the work: the good old man, he’ll give me five nickels for free anyway.
On the third day, Lenivitsa comes and asks Moroz Ivanovich to let her go home and reward her for her work.

- What was your job? - the old man asked.
— Yes, how! Sloth replied. “I lived with you for three whole days.
“You know, my dear,” answered the old man, “what I’ll tell you: there is a difference between living and serving, and work and work are different. Note this: it will come in handy ahead. But, however, if your conscience does not look down, I will reward you: and what is your work, such will be your reward.
With these words, Moroz Ivanovich gave Lenivitsa a large silver ingot, and in his other hand a large diamond. The sloth was so happy about this that she grabbed both and, without even thanking the old man, ran home.
Came home and boasts:
“Here,” he says, “is what I earned: not for my sister, not a handful of patches and not a small diamond, but a whole silver ingot, what a heavy one, and the diamond is almost the size of a fist ... You can already do this for the holiday buy new...
Before she had time to finish, the silver ingot melted and poured onto the floor; he was none other than quicksilver, which had hardened from the intense cold; at the same time the diamond began to melt, and the rooster jumped up on the fence and cried loudly:

And you, kids, think, guess: what is true here, what is not true; what is said really, what is said by the side; what is for fun, what is in instruction, and what is a hint.

Now we will look at how to draw Santa Claus with a pencil in stages. We will draw two options in more detail and there will be 7 diagrams of it in separate pictures. Initially, Santa Claus appeared among the Slavs as a harbinger of frost. They imagined that a small old man with a white beard was running through the fields and banging his staff, causing frost. Santa Claus, as such, appeared in the 1930s. after several years of its ban, and became a mandatory character of the New Year. He was depicted in a blue, white fur coat with a staff in his hands and felt boots. Now he often began to wear a red coat, this is the influence of Santa Claus.

Let's look at these two options in more detail, click on the picture to enlarge.

Now let's look at how easy and simple it is to draw Santa Claus.

Draw the visible part of the face that looks like a diving mask, then the nose, eyes, hat, eyebrows and mouth.

Draw a beard and mustache, with additional lines indicate the length and middle of the body. We draw a fur coat, first draw the side lines, then the white border.

Draw hands and mittens, the second brush is bent and holds a bag with gifts.

You can also draw some lines on Santa's beard, erase everything that was in the bag. Decorate.

This version of Santa Claus is a little more complicated, but also not complicated.

We draw a head and a hat.

Sketch out the body, then draw the beard, mitten, sleeve, bag.

We draw a stick, a collar, a second hand, a second mitten, a belt, a fur coat shape.

We erase everything that is not needed and paint over.

• • Russian folk tales Russian folk tales The world of fairy tales is amazing. Is it possible to imagine our life without fairy tales? A fairy tale is not just entertainment. She tells us about the extremely important things in life, teaches us to be kind and fair, to protect the weak, to resist evil, to despise the cunning and flatterers. The fairy tale teaches to be faithful, honest, makes fun of our vices: boasting, greed, hypocrisy, laziness. For centuries, fairy tales have been passed down orally. One person came up with a fairy tale, told another, that person added something from himself, retold it to a third, and so on. Each time the story got better and better. It turns out that the fairy tale was invented not by one person, but by many different people, the people, which is why they began to call it - “folk”. Fairy tales originated in ancient times. They were the stories of hunters, trappers and fishermen. In fairy tales - animals, trees and herbs talk like people. And in a fairy tale, everything is possible. If you want to become young, eat rejuvenating apples. It is necessary to revive the princess - sprinkle her first with dead, and then with living water ... The fairy tale teaches us to distinguish good from bad, good from evil, ingenuity from stupidity. The fairy tale teaches not to despair in difficult times and always overcome difficulties. The tale teaches how important it is for every person to have friends. And the fact that if you do not leave a friend in trouble, then he will help you ...
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Fairy tale Moroz Ivanovich

Vladimir Odoevsky

Tale Moroz Ivanovich summary:

Tale "Moroz Ivanovich" about the Needlewoman and Sloth. The needlewoman worked all day long, and Sloth toiled from idleness. Once the Needlewoman dropped a bucket into the well, and the strict nanny told her to deal with her own misfortune. The Needlewoman went down to the bottom of the well for a bucket and reached the house of Moroz Ivanovich, on the way taking a pie from the oven and golden apples from an apple tree. For three days, the Needlewoman fluffed up a featherbed for Moroz Ivanovich, cooked food, and tidied up the house. For this, Moroz Ivanovich thanked her with precious gifts.

When the nanny saw such gifts from the Needlewoman, she immediately sent Lenivitsa to Moroz Ivanovich. But Sloth could not do anything, only spoiled everything. And Moroz Ivanovich gave her a large ingot of silver. Sloth came home to show off, but the silver ingot turned into an icicle and melted. So Moroz Ivanovich rewarded each according to her deserts.

This fairy tale teaches us not to be lazy, otherwise you will not get anything from life. Only hard work is rewarded.

Tale Moroz Ivanovich read:

Two girls lived in the same house - the Needlewoman and Lenivitsa, and with them a nanny.

The needlewoman was a smart girl: she got up early, herself, without a nanny, dressed, and getting out of bed, she got down to business: she stoked the stove, kneaded bread, chalked the hut, fed the rooster, and then went to the well for water.

And Sloth, meanwhile, lay in bed, stretching, waddling from side to side, is it really boring to lie down, so she will say when she wakes up: “Nanny, put on my stockings, nanny, tie my shoes,” and then she will say: “Nanny, is there a bun?”

He gets up, jumps, and sits by the window of flies to count: how many flew in and how many flew away. As Sloth counts everyone, she doesn’t even know what to do and what to do: she would like to go to bed - but she doesn’t want to sleep; she would like to eat - but she doesn’t feel like eating; she would count flies to the window - and even then she was tired. She sits, miserable, and cries and complains about everyone that she is bored, as if others are to blame.

Meanwhile, the Needlewoman returns, strains the water, pours it into jugs; and what an entertainer: if the water is unclean, then she will roll up a sheet of paper, put coals in it and pour coarse sand, insert that paper into a jug and pour water into it, but you know the water passes through the sand and through the coals and drops clean into the jug like crystal; and then the Needlewoman will begin to knit stockings or cut scarves, or else sew and cut shirts, and even drag out a needlework song; and she was never bored, because she had no time to be bored either: now on this, now on another task, and here, you see, the evening - the day has passed.

Once a misfortune happened to the Needlewoman: she went to the well for water, lowered the bucket on the rope, and the rope broke; the bucket fell into the well. How to be here?

The poor Needlewoman burst into tears, and went to the nanny to tell about her misfortune and misfortune; and nanny Praskovya was so strict and angry, she said:
- She made the trouble herself, and correct it herself; she drowned the bucket herself, and get it herself.

There was nothing to do: the poor Needlewoman again went to the well, grabbed the rope and went down it to the very bottom. Only then a miracle happened to her. As soon as she got down, she looked: there was a stove in front of her, and in the stove there was a pie, so ruddy, fried; sits, looks and says:
- I'm quite ready, browned, fried with sugar and raisins; whoever takes me out of the oven will go with me!

The needlewoman, without any hesitation, grabbed a spatula, took out a pie and put it in her bosom. She goes further. There is a garden in front of her, and in the garden there is a tree, and golden apples on the tree; apples move their leaves and say among themselves:
- We, liquid apples, are ripe; they ate the root of the tree, washed themselves with icy dew; whoever shakes us off the tree will take us for himself.

The needlewoman went up to the tree, shook it by the branch, and the golden apples fell down into her apron.

She looks: in front of her sits an old man Moroz Ivanovich, gray-haired; he sits on an ice bench and eats snowballs; shakes his head - frost falls from his hair, he dies in spirit - thick steam pours out.

A! - he said. - Hello, Needlewoman! Thank you for bringing me a pie; I haven't eaten anything hot in a long time.

Then he sat the Needlewoman next to him, and they had breakfast together with a pie, and ate golden apples.

I know why you came, - says Moroz Ivanovich, - you lowered a bucket into my student (well); I’ll give you a bucket, only you serve me for three days; you will be smart, you are better off; If you're lazy, it's worse for you. And now, - added Moroz Ivanovich, - it's time for me, the old man, to rest; go and make my bed, and see if you fluff the feather bed well.

The needlewoman obeyed. They went to the house. Moroz Ivanovich's house was made entirely of ice: the doors, the windows, and the floor were icy, and the walls were decorated with snow stars; the sun shone on them, and everything in the house shone like diamonds. On Moroz Ivanovich's bed, instead of a feather bed, lay fluffy snow; cold and there was nothing to do.

The needlewoman began to beat the snow so that the old man could sleep softer, but meanwhile her hands, poor, were ossified and her fingers turned white, like those of poor people, that in winter they rinse their linen in the hole: it’s cold, and the wind in the face, and the linen freezes, stake worth, and there is nothing to do poor people work.

Nothing, - said Moroz Ivanovich, - just rub your fingers with snow, and they will go away, you won’t get a chill. I'm a kind old man; look at my curiosities.

Then he lifted his snowy featherbed with a blanket, and the Needlewoman saw that green grass was breaking through under the featherbed. The needlewoman felt sorry for the poor weed.

So you say, - she said, - that you are a good old man, but why do you keep green grass under a snowy feather bed, do not let it out into the light of God?

I don’t release it because it’s not time yet, the grass hasn’t come into force yet. In the autumn, the peasants sowed it, and it sprouted, and if it had already stretched out, then winter would have captured it, and by the summer the grass would not have ripened. So I covered the young greenery with my snowy featherbed, and even lay down on it myself so that the snow would not be blown away by the wind, but then spring would come, the snowy featherbed would melt, the grass would sprout, and there, you look, grain would also look out, and the peasant would collect grain and on will take the mill; the miller will sweep away the grain, and there will be flour, and you, Needlewoman, will bake bread from flour.

Well, tell me, Moroz Ivanovich, - said the Needlewoman, - why are you sitting in the well?

Then I sit in the well, that spring is coming, - said Moroz Ivanovich, - it becomes hot for me; and you know that it is cold in the well in the summer, and that is why the water in the well is cold, even in the middle of the hottest summer.

And why are you, Moroz Ivanovich, - asked the Needlewoman, - in winter you walk through the streets and knock on the windows?

And then I knock on the windows, - answered Moroz Ivanovich, - so that they don’t forget to heat the stoves and close the pipes in time; otherwise, because I know there are such sluts that they will heat the stove, they will heat it, but they will not close the pipe, or they will close it, but not in time, when not all the coals have burned out, but from that it happens in the upper room, the head is in people hurt, green in the eyes; You can even die of fumes completely. And then I also knock on the window so that no one forgets that there are people in the world who are cold in winter, who don’t have a fur coat, and there’s nothing to buy firewood; then I knock on the window so that they don’t forget to help them.

Here the kind Moroz Ivanovich stroked the Needlewoman on the head, and lay down to rest on his snowy bed.

The needlewoman, meanwhile, cleaned up everything in the house, went into the kitchen, cooked the food, mended the old man's dress and darned the linen.

The old man woke up; was very pleased with everything and thanked the Needlewoman. Then they sat down to dine; the dinner was excellent, and the ice-cream that the old man made himself was especially good.

So the Needlewoman lived with Moroz Ivanovich for three whole days.

On the third day, Moroz Ivanovich said to the needlewoman:
- Thank you, you smart girl, you comforted me, the old man, and I will not remain in your debt. You know: people get money for needlework, so here's your bucket for you, and I poured a whole handful of silver patches into the bucket; and moreover, here is a diamond for you to remember - to stab a scarf.

The needlewoman thanked, pinned the diamond, took the bucket, went back to the well, grabbed the rope and went out into the light of God.

As soon as she began to approach the house, the rooster, which she always fed, saw her, was delighted, flew up to the fence and cried:

Crow-crow!
The Needlewoman has nickels in a bucket!

When the Needlewoman came home and told everything that had happened to her, the nanny was very surprised, and then said:
- You see, Sloth, what people get for needlework! Go to the old man and serve him, work; clean his room, cook in the kitchen, mend your dress and darn your linen, and you will earn a handful of nickels, but it will come in handy: we don’t have enough money for the holiday.

It was very distasteful for Sloth to go to work with the old man. But she wanted to get a nickel and a diamond pin too.

Here, following the example of the Needlewoman, Sloth went to the well, grabbed the rope, and bang right to the bottom. She looks - in front of her is a stove, and in the stove sits a pie, so ruddy, fried; sits, looks and says:
- I'm quite ready, browned, fried with sugar and raisins; whoever takes me will go with me.

And Sloth answered him:
- Yes, no matter how! I have to tire myself - to raise a shovel and reach into the stove; if you want, you can jump out.

She goes further, in front of her there is a garden, and in the garden there is a tree, and golden apples on the tree; apples move their leaves and say among themselves:
- We are liquid apples, ripe; they ate the root of the tree, washed themselves with icy dew; whoever shakes us off the tree will take us for himself.

Yes, no matter how! - answered Sloth. - I'll tire myself - raise my hands, pull the branches ... I'll have time to score, as they themselves attack!

And Sloth passed by them. So she came to Moroz Ivanovich. The old man was still sitting on the icy bench and biting the snowballs.

What do you want, girl? - he asked.

I came to you, - answered Sloth, - to serve and get a job.

You said it right, girl, - the old man answered, - money follows for the work, just let's see what else your work will be! Go ahead and fluff up my feather bed, and then prepare some food, and mend my dress, and darn my linen.

Lenivitsa went, and on the way she thinks:
“I’ll tire myself out and chill my fingers! Perhaps the old man will not notice and will fall asleep on an unwhipped feather bed.

The old man really did not notice, or pretended not to notice, went to bed and fell asleep, and Sloth went into the kitchen. Came to the kitchen, and did not know what to do. She loved to eat, but to think how the food was prepared, it never occurred to her; and she was too lazy to look. So she looked around: in front of her lies greens, and meat, and fish, and vinegar, and mustard, and kvass, all in order. She thought, she thought, somehow she cleaned the greens, cut the meat and fish, and so as not to give herself much work, as everything was, washed, unwashed, she put it in a saucepan: greens, and meat, and fish, and mustard, and vinegar and added kvass, but she herself thinks:
“Why bother to cook each thing separately? After all, everything will be together in the stomach.

Here the old man woke up, asks for dinner. Sloth brought him a pot as it is, she didn’t even spread the tablecloths.

Moroz Ivanovich tried it, grimaced, and the sand crunched on his teeth.

You cook well,” he remarked, smiling. - Let's see what your other job will be.

Sloth tasted it, and immediately spat it out, and the old man groaned, groaned, and began to cook the food himself and made dinner well, so that Sloth licked her fingers, eating someone else's cooking.

After dinner the old man lay down again to rest and reminded Sloth that his dress had not been mended, and his linen had not been darned either.

The sloth pouted, but there was nothing to do: she began to sort out her dress and linen; Yes, and here is the trouble: Sloth sewed clothes and linen, but how they sew it, she didn’t ask about it; she took a needle, but out of habit she pricked herself; so she threw it away. And the old man again seemed not to notice anything, he called Sloth to dinner, and even put her to bed.

But Lenivitsa loves it, she thinks to herself:
“Perhaps it will pass. It was free for the sister to take on the work; kind old man, he will give me piglets for free.

On the third day, Lenivitsa comes and asks Moroz Ivanovich to let her go home and reward her for her work.

So what was your job? - asked the old man. “If it came to the truth, then you must pay me, because you didn’t work for me, but I served you.”

Yes, how! - answered Sloth. “I stayed with you for three whole days.

You know, my dear, - answered the old man, - what I'll tell you: to live and serve is a difference, and work is different for work; notice this: it will come in handy ahead. But, however, if your conscience does not look down, I will reward you: and what is your work, such will be your reward.

With these words, Moroz Ivanovich gave Lenivitsa a large silver ingot, and in his other hand, a large diamond.

The sloth was so happy about this that she grabbed both and, without even thanking the old man, ran home.

Come home and brag.

Here, - he says, - what I have earned; not a couple of sisters, not a handful of patches and not a small diamond, but a whole silver ingot, you see, how heavy, and the diamond is almost the size of a fist ... You can buy a new one for the holiday ...

Before she had time to finish, the silver ingot melted and poured onto the floor; at the same time the diamond began to melt. And the rooster jumped on the fence and cried loudly:

Crow - crow Ulka,
Sloth has an ice icicle in her hands!

And you, kids, think, guess what is true here, what is not true; what is said really, what is said by the side; what a joke for the sake of that in instruction.