Title of the work: Quiet morning
Yuri Pavlovich Kazakov
Year of writing: 1954
Genre of the work: story
Main characters: two boys - village Yashka and urban Volodya.

The plot of Yuri Kazakov’s fascinating work about the possibility of true friendship between completely different children will be revealed in a summary of the story “Quiet Morning” for reader's diary.

Plot

No matter how hard it is, Yashka gets up early: gets dressed, has breakfast, digs for worms and runs to wake up his new friend from Moscow, Volodya. Having quenched their thirst with well water, the boys go fishing to the pool, which is considered the most “fishy” place.

Yashka missed the first fish, but very soon he pulled a huge bream out of the water. Suddenly, a lump of earth from under Volodya’s feet slides into the pool. A city boy finds himself in the water and desperately floundering. Yashka rushes to help and pulls him ashore. To clear his lungs of water, Yashka lifts Volodya’s legs up and shakes him as best he can. Water flows from the mouth of the drowning boy, a spasm passes through his muscles, he groans and comes to his senses. Realizing that everything is behind, Yashka starts to roar. Volodya roared after him.

Conclusions (my opinion)

At first, two dissimilar boys were connected by a common cause - a passion for fishing. Now, after the accident on the water, their friendship is sure to become much stronger. It is unlikely that the sensible Volodya will be able to forget how his friend rushed into a dangerous pool to help him out.

Kazakov Yuri Pavlovich

Quiet morning

Yuri Kazakov

Quiet morning

The sleepy roosters had just crowed, it was still dark in the hut, the mother had not milked the cow and the shepherd had not driven the flock out into the meadows, when Yashka woke up.

He sat up in bed and stared for a long time at the bluish sweaty windows and the dimly whitening stove. The pre-dawn sleep is sweet, and his head falls on the pillow, his eyes are stuck together, but Yashka overcame himself, stumbling, clinging to benches and chairs, and began to wander around the hut, looking for old pants and a shirt.

After eating milk and bread, Yashka took fishing rods in the entryway and went out onto the porch. The village was covered with fog, like a big duvet. The nearby houses were still visible, the distant ones were barely visible as dark spots, and even further, towards the river, nothing was visible, and it seemed as if there had never been a windmill on the hill, no fire tower, no school, no forest on the horizon... Everything has disappeared, hidden now, and the center of the small closed world turned out to be Yashka’s hut.

Someone woke up before Yashka and was hammering near the forge; and pure metallic sounds, breaking through the veil of fog, reached a large invisible barn and returned from there already weakened. It seemed as if two people were knocking: one louder, the other quieter.

Yashka jumped off the porch, swung his fishing rods at a rooster that had turned up at his feet, and trotted cheerfully toward the barn. At the barn, he pulled out a rusty mower from under the board and began digging the ground. Almost immediately, red and purple cold worms began to appear. Thick and thin, they sank equally quickly into the loose soil, but Yashka still managed to grab them and soon filled up an almost full jar. Having sprinkled fresh earth on the worms, he ran down the path, tumbled over the fence and made his way backwards to the barn, where his new friend, Volodya, was sleeping in the hayloft.

Yashka put his soil-stained fingers in his mouth and whistled. Then he spat and listened. It was quiet.

Volodka! - he called. - Get up!

Volodya stirred in the hay, fidgeted and rustled there for a long time, and finally awkwardly climbed down, stepping on his untied shoelaces. His face, crumpled after sleep, was senseless and motionless, like a blind man’s, there was hay dust in his hair, and it apparently got into his shirt, because, standing below, next to Yashka, he kept twitching his thin neck, rolled his shoulders and scratched his back.

Isn't it early? - he asked hoarsely, yawned and, swaying, grabbed the stairs with his hand.

Yashka got angry: he got up an hour earlier, dug up worms, brought fishing rods... and to tell the truth, he got up today because of this runt, he wanted to show him the fishing spots - and so instead of gratitude and admiration - "early!"

For some it’s too early, and for some it’s not too early! - he answered angrily and looked Volodya from head to toe with disdain.

Volodya looked out into the street, his face became animated, his eyes sparkled, and he began hastily lacing up his shoes. But for Yashka, all the charm of the morning was already poisoned.

Are you going to wear boots? “he asked contemptuously and looked at the protruding toe of his bare foot. “Are you going to wear galoshes?”

Volodya remained silent, blushed and began working on the other shoe.

Well, yes...” Yashka continued melancholy, placing the fishing rods against the wall. “You probably don’t go barefoot there, in Moscow...”

So what? - Volodya looked from below into Yashka’s wide, mockingly angry face.

Nothing... Run home, grab your coat...

Well, I'll run! - Volodya answered through gritted teeth and blushed even more.

Yashka got bored. He shouldn't have gotten involved with this whole thing. Why should Kolka and Zhenka Voronkovs be fishermen, and they even admit that there is no better fisherman in the entire collective farm than him. Just take me to the place and show me - they will cover you with apples! And this one... came yesterday, polite... "Please, please..." Should I hit him in the neck, or what? It was necessary to contact this Muscovite, who, probably, has never even seen a fish, goes fishing in boots!..

“And you put on a tie,” Yashka said sarcastically and laughed hoarsely. “Our fish get offended when you go near them without a tie.”

Volodya finally managed to take off his boots and, his nostrils twitching with resentment, looking straight ahead with an unseeing gaze, left the barn. He was ready to give up fishing and immediately burst into tears, but he was so looking forward to this morning! Yashka reluctantly followed him, and the guys silently, without looking at each other, walked down the street. They walked through the village, and the fog receded before them, revealing more and more houses, and barns, and a school, and long rows of milky-white farm buildings... Like a stingy owner, he showed all this only for a minute and then again tightly closed in from behind.

Volodya suffered severely. He was not angry with himself for his rude answers to Yashka, he was angry with Yashka and seemed awkward and pitiful at that moment. He was ashamed of his awkwardness, and in order to somehow drown out this unpleasant feeling, he thought, becoming embittered: “Okay, let him... Let him mock me, they will still recognize me, I won’t allow them to laugh! Just think, it’s great importance to go barefoot ! Imagine what! But at the same time, he looked with open envy and even admiration at Yashka’s bare feet, and at the canvas fish bag, and at the patched trousers and gray shirt worn especially for fishing. He envied Yashka’s tan and his gait, in which his shoulders and shoulder blades and even his ears move, and which many village children consider to be especially chic.

We passed by a well with an old log house overgrown with greenery.

Stop! - said Yashka gloomily. - Let's drink!

He walked up to the well, rattled his chain, pulled out a heavy tub of water and greedily leaned into it. He didn’t want to drink, but he believed that there was nowhere better than this water, and therefore every time he passed by the well, he drank it with great pleasure. The water, overflowing over the edge of the tub, splashed on him. bare feet, he pressed them, but he drank and drank, occasionally breaking away and breathing noisily.

“Here, drink,” he finally said to Volodya, wiping his lips with his sleeve.

Volodya also didn’t want to drink, but in order not to anger Yashka even more, he obediently fell down to the tub and began to take small sips of water until the back of his head ached from the cold.

Well, how's the water? - Yashka inquired smugly when Volodya walked away from the well.

Legitimate! - Volodya responded and shivered.

I suppose there isn’t one like this in Moscow? - Yashka squinted venomously.

Volodya didn’t answer, he just sucked in air through clenched teeth and smiled reconcilingly.

Have you caught fish? - Yashka asked.

No... Only on the Moscow River I saw how they were caught,” Volodya admitted in a fallen voice and timidly looked at Yashka.

This confession softened Yashka somewhat, and he, touching the can of worms, said casually:

Yesterday our manager of the club in the Pleshansky Bochaga saw a catfish....

Volodya's eyes sparkled.

Big?

What did you think? About two meters... Or maybe all three - it was impossible to make out in the darkness. Our club manager was already scared, he thought it was a crocodile. Don't believe me?

Yuri Kazakov

The sleepy roosters had just crowed, it was still dark in the hut, the mother had not milked the cow and the shepherd had not driven the flock out into the meadows, when Yashka woke up. He sat up in bed and stared for a long time at the bluish sweaty windows, at the dimly whitening stove...

The pre-dawn sleep is sweet, and his head falls on the pillow, and his eyes are stuck together, but Yashka overcame himself, stumbling, clinging to benches and chairs, and began to wander around the hut, looking for old pants and a shirt.

After eating milk and bread, Yashka took fishing rods in the entryway and went out onto the porch. The village is covered with fog, like a big duvet. The nearby houses are still visible, the distant ones are barely visible as dark spots, and even further, towards the river, nothing is visible, and it seems that there has never been a windmill on the hill, or a fire tower, or a school, or a forest on the horizon. .. Everything disappeared, disappeared now, and the center of the small visible world turned out to be Yashkin’s hut.

Someone woke up earlier than Yashka and is knocking with a hammer near the forge. Clear metallic sounds, breaking through the fog, reach a large barn and echo weakly from there. It seems like two people are knocking: one is louder, the other is quieter.

Yashka jumped off the porch, swung his fishing rods at the rooster, who had just begun his song, and trotted cheerfully towards the barn. At the barn, he pulled out a rusty mower from under the board and began digging the ground. Almost immediately, red and purple cold worms began to appear. Thick and thin, they sank equally quickly into the loose soil, but Yashka still managed to grab them and soon filled up an almost full jar. Having sprinkled fresh earth on the worms, he ran down the path, tumbled over the fence and made his way backwards to the barn, where his new friend Volodya was sleeping in the hayloft.

Yashka put his soil-stained fingers in his mouth and whistled. Then he spat and listened.

Volodka! - he called. - Get up!

Volodya stirred in the hay, fidgeted and rustled there for a long time, and finally awkwardly climbed down, stepping on untied shoelaces. His face, wrinkled after sleep, was meaningless, like that of a blind man, there was hay dust in his hair, and it probably got into his shirt, because, standing downstairs next to Yashka, he kept moving his shoulders and scratching his back.

Isn't it early? - he asked hoarsely, yawned and, swaying, grabbed the stairs with his hand.

Yashka got angry: he got up a whole hour earlier, dug up worms, brought fishing rods... And if, to tell the truth, he got up today because of this runt, he wanted to show him the fishing spots - and instead of gratitude, “early "!

For some it’s too early, and for some it’s not too early! - he answered angrily and looked Volodya from head to toe with disdain.

Volodya looked out into the street, his face became animated, his eyes sparkled, and he began hastily lacing up his shoe. But for Yashka, all the charm of the morning was already poisoned.

Are you going to wear boots? - he asked contemptuously and looked at the protruding toe of his bare foot. - Will you wear galoshes?

Volodya remained silent, blushed and began working on the other shoe.

Well, yes... - Yashka continued melancholy, putting the fishing rods against the wall. - You probably don’t go barefoot there in Moscow...

So what? - Volodya left his shoe and looked down into Yashka’s wide, mockingly angry face.

Nothing... Run home and grab your coat.

If I have to, I'll run! - Volodya answered through clenched teeth and blushed even more.

Yashka got bored. It was in vain that he got involved in this whole matter... Why should Kolka and Zhenka Voronkovs be fishermen, and they even admit that there is no better fisherman in the village than him. Just take me to the place and show me - they’ll cover you with apples! And this one... came yesterday, polite... “Please, please”... Should I hit him in the neck, or what?

“And put on a tie,” Yashka said sarcastically and laughed hoarsely.

Our fish get offended when you approach them without a tie.

Volodya finally managed to get his boots off and left the barn, his nostrils twitching with resentment. Yashka reluctantly followed him, and the guys silently, without looking at each other, walked down the street. They walked through the village, and the fog retreated before them, revealing more and more huts and barns, and a school, and long rows of milky-white farm buildings... Like a stingy owner, the fog showed all this only for a minute, then closed tightly again behind.

Volodya suffered severely. He was angry with himself for his rude answers to Yashka; at that moment he seemed awkward and pitiful to himself. He was ashamed of his awkwardness, and in order to somehow drown out this unpleasant feeling, he thought, becoming embittered. “Okay, let him... Let him mock me, he will still recognize me, I won’t let him laugh! Just think, it’s important to go barefoot!” But at the same time, he looked with open envy, even admiration, at Yashka’s bare feet and at the canvas fish bag, and at the patched trousers and gray shirt worn especially for fishing. He envied Yashka’s tan and that special gait, in which his shoulders and shoulder blades, and even his ears move, and which many village children consider to be especially chic.

We passed by a well with an old log house overgrown with greenery.

Stop! - Yashka said gloomily. - Let's have a drink!

He went up to the well, rattled his chain, pulled out a heavy tub of water, and greedily leaned into it. He didn’t want to drink, but he believed that there was nowhere better than this water, and therefore every time he passed by the well, he drank it with great pleasure. The water overflowed and splashed on his bare feet, he tucked them in, but he kept drinking and drinking, occasionally breaking away and breathing noisily.

Come on, drink! - he finally said to Volodya, wiping his lips with his sleeve.

Volodya didn’t feel like drinking either, but in order not to completely anger Yashka, he obediently fell down to the tub and began to take small sips of water until the back of his head ached from the cold.

Well, how's the water? - Yashka inquired proudly when Volodya walked away from the well.

Legitimate! - Volodya responded and shivered.

Perhaps there isn’t one like this in Moscow? - Yashka squinted venomously.

Volodya didn’t answer, he just sucked in air through clenched teeth and smiled reconcilingly.

Have you caught fish? - Yashka asked.

No... Only on the Moscow River I saw how they were caught,” Volodya answered in a fallen voice and timidly looked at Yashka.

This confession softened Yashka somewhat, and he, touching the can of worms, said casually:

Yesterday our manager of the club in the Pleshansky Bochag saw catfish...

Volodya's eyes sparkled. Immediately forgetting about his dislike for Yashka, he quickly asked:

Big?

What did you think? Two meters... Or maybe all three - you can’t make it out in the dark. Our club manager was already scared, he thought it was a crocodile. Don't believe me?

You're lying! - Volodya exhaled enthusiastically and shrugged his shoulders. But it was clear from his eyes that he believed everything unconditionally.

Am I lying? - Yashka was amazed. - Do you want to go fishing in the evening? Well?

Is it possible? - Volodya asked hopefully; his ears turned pink.

Why! - Yashka spat and wiped his nose with his sleeve. - I have the tackle. We'll catch frogs, loaches... We'll capture the crawlers - there are still chubs there - and it's two hours of dawn! We'll light a fire at night... Will you go?

Volodya felt incredibly cheerful, and now he just felt how good it was to leave the house in the morning. How nice and easy it is to breathe, how you want to run along this soft road, rush at full speed, jumping and squealing with delight.

Why was that strange sound back there? Who was it that suddenly, as if striking a tight string over and over again, screamed clearly and melodiously in the meadows? Where was it with him? Or maybe it wasn’t? But why then is this feeling of delight and happiness so familiar?

What was that chattering so loudly in the field? Motorbike?

Volodya looked questioningly at Yashka.

Tractor! - Yashka said importantly.

Tractor? But why does it crack?

This is what starts him up. It will start now. Listen... Whoa... Did you hear? Buzzed! Well, now it goes! This is Fedya Kostylev - he plowed all night with headlights... I slept a little, then went again.

Volodya looked in the direction from which the roar of the tractor was heard, and immediately asked:

Are your fogs always like this?

Not... When it's clean. And when it’s later, closer to September, then you’ll see it hit with frost. In general, the fish takes it in the fog - have time to carry it!

What kind of fish do you have?

Fish? All kinds of fish. And there are crucian carp on the reaches, pike... Well, then these - perch, carp, bream... Also tench - do you know tench? - like a pig. That's fat! The first time I caught it, my mouth was agape.

How many can you catch?

Anything can happen. Another time about five kilos, and another time only... for a cat.

What's that whistle? - Volodya stopped and raised his head.

This? These are ducks flying.

Yeah... I know... What is this?

The blackbirds are calling. We flew to Aunt Nastya's garden on a rowan tree. Have you caught blackbirds?

Never caught one.

Mishka Kayunenka has a net, just wait, let's go catch them. They are thirsty blackbirds... They fly across the fields in flocks, taking worms from under the tractor. Stretch the net, throw in rowan berries, hide and wait. As soon as they swoop in, about five of them will immediately crawl under the net. They are funny; not all are true, but there are some good ones. One of them lived with me all winter, and he could do everything: like a locomotive, and like a saw...

The village was left behind. The low-growing oats stretched endlessly. A dark strip of forest was barely visible ahead.

How much longer to go? - asked Volodya.

No... It’s nearby,” Yashka answered every time.

They came out onto a hillock, turned right, went down a ravine, followed a path through a flax field, and then quite unexpectedly a river opened up in front of them. It was small, densely overgrown with willow and broom along the banks.

The sun has finally risen; neighed subtly...

This is a very simply written story about how one boy saved another when he was drowning, while almost going to the bottom himself. Two boys went fishing. While they were sitting with fishing rods, they managed to discuss fishing, as well as the village legend that scary octopuses live at the bottom of the reservoir and drag people under the water. One of the boys awkwardly reached for the fishing line and fell. The second, seeing his friend drowning, first ran for help. But, on the way, realizing that he would not have time to call anyone, he returned, threw himself into the water and saved his friend. After that, the boys sat and cried, rejoicing that they were alive. And around them a quiet summer morning was flaring up.

This work tells about the moment of a person growing up. Two boys, coming face to face with death for the first time, realized that it was much worse than the fables about octopuses. When everything was over, they looked at the nature around them and realized how beautiful everything that they had almost lost was.

A village boy named Yashka woke up early in the morning to go fishing. The day before, a city boy named Volodya asked to go fishing with him. He came from Moscow and was visiting relatives. Yashka himself didn’t know why he agreed to take him.

Read the summary of Kazakov's Quiet Morning

Early in the morning, even before the roosters woke up, the village boy Yashka woke up to go fishing. He carefully got ready: put on old pants and a shirt, had breakfast, dug up worms, and prepared fishing rods.

Going out into the street, he saw that everything around was hidden by thick fog, nothing was visible. Yashka ran down the path to the hayloft where his new acquaintance Volodya was spending the night. Volodya came to the collective farm on vacation from Moscow. Yashka called his comrade with a whistle, but he was still sleeping and did not respond. Then he called him by name, and Volodya came out. The boy was sleepy and all rumpled. Yashka was angry with him for not getting up early and was not grateful to Yashka for taking him fishing with him.

All the way Volodya suffers greatly from the fact that he does not look like the self-confident Yashka. Along the way, the boys stop to drink water from an old well.

The guys come to a whirlpool, which amazes with its gloom. Yashka scares Volodya that there is no bottom here, and no one swims in this barrel. A city boy becomes uncomfortable with the village kids' stories about octopuses supposedly living at the bottom of this reservoir.

The boys start fishing. Yashka professionally casts his fishing rod and watches with irritation as Volodya clings to the willow with his rod. At this time, Yashka’s fish begins to bite, but breaks away. His anger knows no bounds. Later, he still managed to pull out the bream. But at this time Volodya begins to bite, and he, trying to catch the fishing rod, falls into the pool. He starts to drown.

Yashka, in a panic, is about to run for help, but understands that this cannot be done, otherwise Volodya will die in the meantime. He rushes into the pool to save his comrade. Volodya grabs Yashka with a death grip, and the boys almost drown together. Yashka fights off Volodya, swims ashore, but realizes that he cannot leave the boy to drown. He returns for him, but Volodya no longer appears on the surface. Yashka dives, finds the boy and drags him unconscious to the shore. Volodya comes to his senses, but cannot say anything except for isolated sounds and gurgling. Yasha, looking at his comrade, feels boundless tenderness for him. He is happy that he saved his friend. But at the same moment the boys realize what could have happened. Yashka and Volodya cry together from the shock they have experienced.

The water in the pool calms down, the fish gets off the hook and swims away. rose warm sun, illuminating everything around. And only the water in the barrel was still gloomy.

Picture or drawing Quiet morning

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In the summer, many children from the city come to the village; Volodka, a city boy who has never seen a real field, meadow, or lake, came to stay with his grandmother. Volodka is interested in village life, but most of all he is attracted to fishing. Volodka doesn’t know how to fish, but for this he has a new village friend Yashka, with whom he just agreed to go fishing.

Fishing was scheduled for early morning, so Yashka got up earlier than everyone else in the house, even his mother had not yet started the morning milking, and the roosters were still silently resting on their perches. The village was quiet, Yashka climbed out of the window and went to dig for worms. He was in a good mood, he loved to fish, but he always did it alone, and yesterday this neighbor boy came up to him and asked him to go fishing with him. It is not clear why Yashka agreed, although he did not want it at all.

After the worms were dug up, Yashka went to wake up Volodka, he woke up with great reluctance, he did not at all expect that he would have to get up so early, and did not understand why the fish could not wait until he got some sleep. He expressed this opinion to Yashka, which greatly angered him. Yashka became even more angry after Volodka refused to go to the river barefoot and preferred to wear boots.

After arguing a little about this, Yashka and Volodka go to the river. For fishing, Yashka chose the most remote place; local children rarely went there, since they all preferred not only to fish, but also to swim, and in this lake backwater it was dangerous to swim, a terrible river octopus lived there, which dragged everyone under the water who dared take a plunge.

On the way to the creek, the children pass through fields and small forests outside the village, hear the rumble of an approaching tractor, and enjoy the life awakening in the village. For Yashka, these sounds are quite ordinary, but Volodka is very surprised, he has never woken up so early and the awakening nature is a novelty for him. Volodka’s admiration for everything that is happening to him, the upcoming fishing, the catch and the very act of being in the village, knows no bounds.

Finally the boys get to the creek. The water in it is cold, muddy, the place chosen is deep and steep. Yashka took out a box of worms and poured half of them to Volodka, showing him where and how to stand in order to start fishing. Volodka exactly follows the instructions of his new friend, but for him fishing is something else, he chats incessantly when he should be silent, pours out his soul to Yashka and tries to find out his opinion about everything that is happening around him.

Yashka doesn’t like this behavior of the townie at all, he is already beginning to regret that he agreed to this idea, the local village boys are much more restrained, they would give everything for Yashka to show them this place and allow them to fish here, and Volodka even does not understand what honor Yashka is doing him.

Meanwhile, the blossom was indomitable, Volodka’s float twitched, and a rather weighty fish hung on it. The delighted and confused Volodka barely has time to inform Yashka about this before the fish falls off the hook. An angry Yashka scolds Volodka with all his might, because it is his fault that he failed to catch such excellent prey.

Volodka is upset, but soon his mood improves, a huge bream falls on Yashka’s hook, the boy tries to pull him closer to the shore and, using a special grab, pull him out of the water. The bream resists, and Volodka watches this struggle with pleasure, not noticing that he is approaching the very edge of a clay cliff.

Volodka's shoes are slippery and he slides into the cold water. At the first moment, Yashka thinks that Volodya was joking and will now surface; Yashka even prepared a large lump of earth to throw at his friend, as punishment for scaring off such a fish. But Volodya doesn’t know how to swim, the pool begins to suck him in and only air bubbles appear on the surface.

Yashka got terribly scared and rushed away from the river, deciding that Volodka had been taken by the same octopus about which the children had made so many legends. But after running some distance and coming to his senses, Yashka understands that he should return and help his friend. He rushes to the river and dives in without undressing, grabbing Volodka, who is still floundering, by his clothes. But the pool is insidious, it does not want to let go of its prey, Yashka also begins to drown, but finds strength in himself and, pushing off Volodka’s body with his feet, floats up to dive again and this time pull his already lifeless comrade out of the water.

Having dragged Volodka to the shore, Yashka begins to sob loudly, the boy cannot bring his friend to his senses, he thinks that Volodka drowned himself. But after hastily performed artificial respiration, water begins to flow from Volodka’s mouth, and he himself opens his eyes and is surprised that, it turns out, he could have drowned. Volodka does not remember everything that happened after he fell into the water, and Yashka sobs on the grass next to him, wiping away his tears with a piece of his trouser leg.