Mother's Siberian foster child content. School reading: "Foster"

The story "Priemysh" by Mamin-Sibiryak was written in 1891. The writer devoted many of his works to nature, which he loved and felt very subtly. The beautiful, touching tale of a swan and an old man was no exception.

main characters

Taras- a watchman, a kind, sympathetic old man with a big heart.

Receiving- a young swan whom Taras saved from certain death.

Other characters

The narrator- a hunter, an old friend of Taras.

Sobolko- the faithful dog of Taras, friend of Priemysh.

On a rainy summer day, the hunter enjoyed walking through the forest. The rain began to thin out, and soon the Traveler's eyes appeared before the Bright Lake, on the banks of which his old acquaintance, the watchman Taras, lived.

When the hunter came closer to the hut, "a motley little dog ran out onto the road and burst into desperate barking." It was Sobolko - Taras' old faithful dog. Sniffing the traveler's hunting boots, he recognized him and "wagged his tail guiltily."

The house was empty. Most likely, the owner "went to the lake to inspect some fishing tackle." Taras was about ninety years old, and he himself forgot when he was born. However, the man was still strong and hardy, and had only one weakness - the love of warmth, which was explained by his "respectable age."

Waiting for Taras, the hunter began to "start lighting fire." By that time, the rain had already passed, and in the sky appeared "the hot July sun, under whose rays the wet grass seemed to smoke." The intoxicating aroma of fresh grass, sage, pine trees spread in the air.

Suddenly Sobolko "squealed with joy" when he saw the owner's boat on the surface of the lake. To his surprise, the hunter noticed a swan swimming in front of the boat. Having got out to the shore, the beautiful bird slowly went to the hut.

Taras told how one day the "hunters from the gentlemen" came and shot "a swan with a swan." Only one chick survived, which Taras found in the reeds. He named him Foster, and became very attached to the swan.

One hunter advised Taras to cut the bird's wings so that it would not fly away to warmer regions in winter, but he refused. The foster boy became close friends with Sobolko, with whom he walked and even shared food.

The next time the hunter visited Taras "in late autumn, when the first snow fell." The old man looked "decrepit and pitiful", and the reason for this was parting with the Priest. Once, during the frost, "a herd of swans descended on Lake Bright." The priest saw them, and was seriously depressed. Taras had no choice but to let the free bird go to his relatives. Despite his great love for Priyysh, he did not want to hold him back by force. Parting with the swan was very difficult for Taras, and even Sobolko was sad about his white-winged comrade ...

"Priemysh" Mamin Sibiryak the main characters show what kind of relationship should be between people and animals.

The main characters of the story "Priemysh" Mamin Sibiryak

• Taras,
• Sobolko,
• Receiving

Receiving- the swan, which Taras found him in the reeds, caught and brought him to his home. This chick was left alone, since the hunters killed his parents. Taras' swan lived well, he fed him and let him swim. Taras treated the swan with love, praised him, said that he was a smart, proud, royal bird. The old man spoke of the swan as a dear, close person.
Taras called Priemysh "a special bird" because she yearns and can die without a pair, in captivity.
Taras considered Sobol'k and Priemysh to be his family.

Taras was a very smart and kind person, a person who knew animals well, knew how to observe what was happening in nature. He saved the bird, and then released it. Taras loved all living things. He would not dare to cut off the wings of Priyomish, he would not dare to put it in a cage, it is impossible to keep a wild bird without will. The old man could not offend either the fish or the bird ...

Sobolko- a variegated dog, man's best friend, intelligent, friendly, affectionate

The main idea of ​​the work: everyone should live as nature intended.
Rough human intervention in nature, not understanding its value, leads to tragedies. People just need to think about the consequences of their actions and love all living things! Teaches us kindness.

In the fairy tale you will learn how a young swan was sheltered by a girl. And the three of them healed together: a girl, a swan and a dog Sobolek. But the friends will have to part, because the swan needs to fly south. Read in the fairy tale "Priemysh" about loyal and selfless friendship.

The Tale of the Adopter read

A rainy summer day. I love to wander through the woods in this weather, especially when there is a warm corner ahead where you can dry off and warm up. Besides, summer rain is warm. In the city, in such weather, there is mud, and in the forest the earth greedily absorbs moisture, and you walk on a slightly damp carpet made of last year's fallen leaves and crumbling pine and spruce needles. The trees are covered with raindrops that rain down on you with every move. And when the sun comes out after such a rain, the forest turns so brightly green and all burns with diamond sparks. Something festive and joyful is around you, and you feel yourself on this holiday as a welcome, dear guest.

It was on such a rainy day that I approached the Bright Lake, to the familiar watchman at the fishing saimaa (parking lot) Taras. The rain was already thinning. On one side of the sky, gaps appeared, a little more - and the hot summer sun would appear. The forest path made a sharp turn, and I came to a sloping promontory, which jutted with a wide tongue into the lake. Actually, there was not the lake itself, but a wide channel between the two lakes, and the Saimaa nestled in a bend on the low bank, where fishing boats huddled in the bay. The channel between the lakes was formed thanks to a large wooded island, spread out with a green cap opposite the Saimaa.

My appearance on the cape caused the guard call of the dog Taras - she always barked at strangers in a special way, abruptly and sharply, as if she were angrily asking: "Who is coming?" I love such simple dogs for their extraordinary intelligence and loyal service.

From a distance, the fishing hut looked like a large boat turned upside down — it was the hunched over an old wooden roof overgrown with cheerful green grass. Around the hut a dense growth of willow-tea, sage and "bear pipes" rose, so that the man approaching the hut could only see one head. Such dense grass grew only along the shores of the lake, because there was enough moisture and the soil was greasy.

When I was already quite close to the hut, a motley little dog flew out of the grass head over heels and burst into desperate barking.

Just stop ... Didn't you recognize?

Sobolko stopped in thought, but apparently did not yet believe in the old acquaintance. He approached cautiously, sniffed at my hunting boots, and only after this ceremony did he wag his tail apologetically. They say, I'm guilty, I was mistaken - but all the same, I have to guard the hut.

The hut was empty. The owner was not there, that is, he probably went to the lake to inspect some fishing tackle. Around the hut, everything spoke of the presence of a living person: a weakly smoking light, an armful of freshly chopped wood, a net drying on stakes, an ax stuck into a stump of wood. Through the open door of the Saimaa one could see the whole household of Taras: a gun on the wall, several pots in the oven, a chest under the bench, hanging tackle. The hut was quite spacious, because in winter, during fishing, a whole artel of workers was placed in it. In the summer the old man lived alone. Regardless of the weather, every day he heated the Russian stove hotly and slept on the beds. This love of warmth was explained by the venerable age of Taras: he was about ninety years old. I say "about" because Taras himself forgot when he was born. “Even before the French,” as he explained, that is, before the invasion of the French in Russia in 1812.

Taking off my wet jacket and hanging the hunting armor on the wall, I began to build a fire. He spun around me, anticipating some kind of profit. The light flared up merrily, sending up a blue stream of smoke. The rain has already passed. Torn clouds swept across the sky, dropping rare drops. In some places, the skylights of the sky turned blue. And then the sun appeared, the hot July sun, under whose rays the wet grass seemed to smoke.

The water in the lake was still, as it happens only after rain. It smelled of fresh grass, sage, the resinous scent of a nearby pine forest. In general, it is good, as soon as it can be good in such a remote forest corner. To the right, where the channel ended, the surface of the Bright Lake turned blue, and mountains rose beyond the jagged border. Wonderful corner! And it's not for nothing that old Taras lived here for forty years. Somewhere in the city, he would not have lived even half, because in the city you cannot buy such clean air for any money, and most importantly - this tranquility that covered here. Good on the saimaa! A bright light burns merrily; the hot sun begins to bake, it hurts your eyes to look at the sparkling distance of the wonderful lake. So I would sit here and, it seems, would not part with the wonderful forest freedom. The thought of the city flashes in my head like a bad dream.

While waiting for the old man, I attached a copper outdoor kettle of water to a long stick and hung it over the fire. The water was already beginning to boil, but the old man was still gone.

Where would he go? - I thought out loud. - The tackle is inspected in the morning, and now it is noon. Maybe he went to see if anyone was catching fish without asking. So, where did your master go?

The clever dog just wagged its bushy tail, licked its lips and squealed impatiently. Outwardly, Sobolko belonged to the type of so-called "hunting" dogs. Small in stature, with a sharp muzzle, erect ears, an upturned tail, he, perhaps, resembled an ordinary mongrel with the difference that a mongrel would not find a squirrel in the forest, would not be able to "bark" a capercaillie, track down a deer - in a word, a real hunting dog, man's best friend. You need to see such a dog in the forest in order to fully appreciate all its merits.

When this "man's best friend" squealed with joy, I realized that he had seen the owner. Indeed, in the channel a fishing boat appeared as a black dot, skirting the island. This was Taras. He swam, standing on his feet, and deftly worked with one oar - real fishermen all float like this on their one-tree boats, not without reason called "gas chambers". As he swam closer, I noticed, to my surprise, a swan swimming in front of the boat.

Go home, reveler! - the old man grumbled, urging on the beautifully floating bird. - Go, go. Here I will give you - God knows where to sail away. Go home, reveler!

The swan swam beautifully to the saimaa, went ashore, shook himself and, waddling heavily on his crooked black legs, headed towards the hut.

Old man Taras was tall, with a thick gray beard and stern, large gray eyes. All summer he went barefoot and without a hat. It is remarkable that all his teeth were intact and the hair on his head was preserved. The broad, tanned face was furrowed with deep wrinkles. In hot weather, he wore one shirt made of peasant blue canvas.

Hello, Taras!

Hello sir!

Where does God come from?

And here I swam behind the Priyomysh, after the swan. Everything here was spinning in the channel, and then suddenly it disappeared. Well, I'm after him now. I went to the lake - no; swam through the backwaters - no; and he swims beyond the island.

Where did you get it, the swan?

And God sent, yes! Here hunters from gentlemen came running; well, they shot the swan and the swan, but this one stayed. Huddled in the reeds and sits. He can't fly, so he hid like a child. Of course, I put nets near the reeds, and I caught him. One will be lost, the hawk will be seized, because there is still no real meaning in it. He remained an orphan. So I brought it and keep it. And he got used to it too. Now, soon it will be a month, how we live together. In the morning at dawn it rises, swims in the channel, feeds, then goes home. Knows when I get up and waits to be fed. An intelligent bird, in a word, knows its own order.

The old man spoke unusually lovingly, as of a loved one. The swan hobbled over to the hut itself and, obviously, was waiting for some handout.

It will fly away from you, grandfather, - I remarked.

Why would he fly? And here it is good: well fed, water is everywhere.

And in winter?

He will spend the winter with me in the hut. There will be enough room, but Sobolko and I are more fun. Once one hunter wandered into my saimaa, saw a swan and said in the same way: "It will fly away if you don't clip your wings." How can a bird of God be mutilated? Let him live as the Lord told her ... The man was told one thing, and the bird something else ... I won’t understand why the gentlemen shot the swans. After all, they will not eat, and so, for mischief.

Swan accurately understood the old man's words and looked at him with his intelligent eyes.

And how is he with Sobolko? I asked.

At first I was afraid, and then I got used to it. Now the swan will take a piece from Sobolk another time. The dog will grumble at him, and his swan - his wing. It's funny to look at them from the outside. And then they go for a walk together: the swan on the water, and Sobolko - along the shore. The dog tried to swim after him, well, but the craft was not right: he almost drowned. And as the swan swims away, Sobolko is looking for him. Sits on the shore and howls. Say, I'm bored, the dog, without you, dear friend. So we live three together.

I love the old man very much. He spoke very well and knew a lot. There are such good, smart old people. I had to while away many summer nights on the saimaa, and each time you learn something new. Before, Taras was a hunter and knew places around fifty miles, knew every custom of a forest bird and a forest animal; but now he could not go far and knew one of his fish. It is easier to sail on a boat than walking with a gun in the forest, and especially in the mountains. Now the gun remained with Taras only out of old memory, and just in case a wolf had run in. In winters, wolves looked at the Saimaa and for a long time already sharpened their teeth at Sobolk. Only Sobolko was cunning and was not given to wolves.

I stayed on the site for the whole day. In the evening we went fishing and set nets for the night. Well, the Bright lake, and it is not for nothing that it was called the Bright lake, - after all, the water in it is completely transparent, so you sail in a boat and see the whole bottom at a depth of several fathoms. You can see colorful pebbles, and yellow river sand, and seaweed, you can see how the fish walks "in a rune", that is, a herd. There are hundreds of such mountain lakes in the Urals, and all of them are distinguished by their extraordinary beauty. Svetloye Lake differed from others in that it was adjacent to the mountains only on one side, and on the other it went "into the steppe", where the blessed Bashkiria began. The most free places lay around the Bright Lake, and a brisk mountain river flowed out of it, spreading over the steppe for a whole thousand miles. The lake was up to twenty miles long, and about nine wide. The depth reached in some places fifteen fathoms. A group of wooded islands gave it a special beauty. One such island moved away to the very middle of the lake and was called Hunger, because, having got on it in bad weather, the fishermen often went hungry for several days.

Taras lived on Svetly for forty years. Once he had his own family and home, but now he lived as a boar. The children died, his wife also died, and Taras remained hopelessly on Svetly for whole years.

Aren't you bored, grandpa? - I asked when we returned from fishing. - It's terribly lonely in the forest.

One? The master will say the same. I live here, prince prince. I have everything. And every bird, and fish, and grass. Of course, they do not know how to speak, but I understand everything. The heart rejoices another time to look at God's creature. Everyone has their own order and their own mind. Do you think the fish swims in the water in vain or the bird flies in the forest? No, they have no less worries than ours. Avon, look, the swan is waiting for me and Sobolko. Ah, the prosecutor!

The old man was terribly pleased with his Receiver, and all conversations in the end were reduced to him.

A proud, real royal bird, ”he explained. “Beck him with food, but don’t let him, next time it won’t go.” It also has its own character, even if it is a bird. He also very proudly holds himself with Sobolko. A little bit, now it will hit with a wing, or even a nose. It is known that the dog will want to play up another time, it strives to catch the tail with its teeth, and the swan in the face. This is also not a toy to grab by the tail.

I spent the night and in the morning the next day I was going to leave.

Come in the autumn, - the old man says goodbye. - Then we will shoot the fish with a prison. Well, we'll shoot the hazel grouses. Autumn hazel grouse is fat.

Okay, grandpa, I'll come sometime.

When I left, the old man returned me:

Look, sir, how the swan played with Sobolko.

Indeed, it was worth admiring the original painting. The swan stood, wings spread, and Sobolko attacked him with a squeal and bark. The clever bird stretched out its neck and hissed at the dog, as geese do. Old Taras laughed heartily at this scene like a child.

The next time I got to Lake Bright was in late autumn, when the first snow fell. The forest was still good. In some places, there was still a yellow leaf on the birches. Spruce and pine trees seemed greener than in summer. Dry autumn grass peeked out from under the snow with a yellow brush. Dead silence reigned all around, as if nature, weary of summer tireless work, was now resting. The bright lake seemed large, because the coastal greenery was gone. The transparent water darkened, and a heavy autumn wave roared against the shore.

Taras's hut stood in the same place, but it seemed taller, because the tall grass that surrounded it was gone. The same Sobolko jumped out to meet me. Now he recognized me and wagged his tail affectionately from a distance. Taras was at home. He repaired a seine for winter fishing.

Hello old man!

Hello sir!

Well, how are you?

Never mind. In the fall, then, to the first snow, I fell ill a little. My legs hurt. It always happens to me in bad weather.

The old man did look weary. He seemed so decrepit and pitiful now. However, this happened, as it turned out, not at all from an illness. We got into conversation over tea, and the old man told his grief.

Do you remember, sir, the swan?

Receptionist?

He is. Ah, the bird was good! And here again Sobolko and I were left alone. Yes, there was no Priemyh.

Hunters killed?

No, he left himself. How insulting to me that, sir! Didn't I seem to have courted him, was I not fond of! He fed from his hands. He walked towards me and the voice. He swims on the lake - I will click on him, and he will swim up. Scientist bird. And I’m quite used to it. Yes! Already in the freezing sin went out. During the flight, a herd of swans descended to Lake Bright. Well, they rest, feed, swim, and I admire. Let the bird of God gather itself with strength: not a close place to fly. Well, and then the sin came out. My Priyomysh at first kept away from other swans: he would swim up to them, and back. Those giggle in their own way, call him, and he goes home. Say, I have my own house. So they had it for three days. Everyone, therefore, speaks in their own way, in a bird's way. Well, and then, I see, my Priyomysh got bored. It's all the same how a person yearns. Will come ashore, stand on one leg and start screaming. Why, he screams so pitifully. It will overtake me melancholy, and Sobolko, a fool, howls like a wolf. You know, a free bird, the blood has affected.

The old man fell silent and sighed heavily.

Well, what then, grandfather?

Oh, don't ask. I locked him in a hut for the whole day, so he got it on there too. He will stand on one foot to the door itself and stand until you drive him out of his place. Only now he will not say in human language: "Let me go, grandfathers, to my comrades. They will fly to the warmer side, but what am I going to do with you here in winter?" Ah, you, I think, a task! Let it go - it will fly away after the herd and disappear.

Why will it disappear?

But what about? Those who grew up free will. Them, young, who, father and mother learned to fly. Do you think how they are? The swans will grow up - the father and mother will take them out first on the water, and then they will begin to teach them how to fly. Little by little they teach: farther and farther. With my own eyes, I saw how young people are trained to fly. First, they teach separately, then in small flocks, and then they will cluster into one large herd. It looks like a soldier being drilled. Well, my Priyomysh alone grew up and, read, did not fly anywhere. Swimming on the lake - that's all there is to it. Where can he fly? Will be exhausted, lag behind the herd and disappear. Unaccustomed to a distant summer.

The old man was silent again.

But I had to release it, ”he said sadly. - All the same, I think, if I keep him for the winter, he will become bored and wilted. The bird is so special. Well, he did. My Priyysh stuck to the herd, swam with him for the day, and in the evening he went home again. So I sailed for two days. Also, although he is a bird, it is difficult to part with his home. It was he who sailed to say goodbye, sir. The last time I sailed away from the shore that way for twenty yards, I stopped and how, my brother, he will shout in his own way. Say: "Thank you for the bread, for the salt!" I was the only one who saw him. Sobolko and I were left alone again. At first, both of us were very homesick. I will ask him: "Sobolko, but where is our Foster?" And Sobolko now howl. So he regrets. And now ashore, and now look for a dear friend. At night, I dreamed that Priyomysh was flapping along the coast and flapping his wings. I go out - no one is there.

That's what happened, sir.

Eremina Olesya

The Priyomish story begins with a beautiful description of a warm and sunny nature. “The trees are covered with raindrops ..., the forest turns so brightly green and all burns with diamond sparks ... Something festive and joyful is around you, and you feel like a welcome, dear guest on this holiday”.

The main character is the ninety-year-old Taras. He lives alone in the forest, but does not consider himself lonely at all. “... I live here as a prince as a prince. I have everything ... And every bird, and fish, and grass ... ”Taras was kind and hardworking. The old man knew everything in the forest to the smallest detail. The author shows us Taras and the surrounding nature as a whole.

Old man Taras had a very smart and devoted dog named Sobolko. They always understood each other very well.

In the summer, Taras caught a swan, which the hunters left an orphan. The three of them began to live: the old man, the dog Sobolko and Priyomysh. The old man with the dog is very accustomed to the reception. They went to feed the swan, and he was waiting for them and was also happy. In late autumn, the swan flew away with a flock to warm lands. Taras and Sobolko were sad for a long time, so they missed Priemysh. The old man was so worried, it seemed to him that the swan had flown in and was paddling along the shore, and flapping its wings.

In this story, the author wants to tell and show us with what love Taras treats the Swan - an orphan. Pay attention to the sadness with which the poor old man talks about his parting with the swan. “How insulting to me this, sir! Didn't I seem to have courted him, was I not fond of! He fed from his hands. He walked to me and to my voice ... It is known, a free bird, the blood had an effect. " The theme of this work is the relationship between man and nature.

An interesting and instructive story is described in the article, its summary is presented. "Receiver" (Mamin-Sibiryak) teaches readers true love, when for the sake of your neighbor you sacrifice personal interests and desires.

What is this story

So, let's start our summary. "Priemysh" (Mamin-Sibiryak is its author) is a short story in three parts. The first part can be called "Acquaintance", in which the main character meets a swan adoptive. In the second part, the owner of the hut, old man Taras, lovingly tells the guest about his new pet. The third part is the final and most sad one, in which the hero learns that the swan has left the foster home and flew away with his relatives to warm lands.

"Priemysh" (Mamin-Sibiryak) begins with a description of how a hunter walks in a warm summer rain through the forest and admires the surrounding nature. He approaches Lake Svetloye and heads to the old hut, which is almost completely hidden in the tall grass. The dog Sobolko runs out to meet him. At first he barks loudly, but then he recognizes the guest and happily greets him. The hunter enters the hut, heats up the Russian stove and waits for the owner - old man Taras, who is already nearly ninety years old. The old man himself does not remember when he was born, he says that it was before the invasion of the French to Russia in 1812. Previously, Taras' grandfather had a family, but his wife and children died, and he began to live in a hut in the forest, hunting and fishing.

And then the guest finally saw the old man: he was sailing in a boat, urging a beautiful white swan ahead of him. The hunter, of course, was surprised and began to ask the owner what kind of bird it was. Grandfather Taras said that "city gentlemen" came, shot "a swan with a swan", and their chick hid in the reeds. The old man pulled him out and brought him home, put him in a shed and took care of him. The adoptive swan got used to his grandfather and the dog, became a member of their small family. The guest noted to himself with what love and warmth the host spoke about his adopted child.

After spending the night, the hunter left, promising the old man to return in the fall. He kept his word and returned to the hut at the beginning of winter. The old man Taras was very saddened and sadly told the guest that he had to let go of his adopted foster child. The "Tsar-bird" cannot survive in a barn, it needs will.

Readers' opinions

That's all the summary. "Priemysh" (Mamin-Sibiryak), the readers' reviews of which are presented below, is a short but instructive story. Everyone who has read it notes that this work is poetic, touching and sad at the same time. Teaches the understanding of true love when he is ready to sacrifice his desires for the sake of another.