Rus Articles Journal

What same Vika suprotiv clover? Usmansky cigarettes against a morshansky makhra …

Earth terribly rocked somewhere there, far below and let slowly, but obediently laid down under leg ottsova a grid of large wrinkles of the road track which cracked from the heat and beaten out by human legs and automobile tires to naked light-brown skin. The remains of a green grass hair part ran out for a roadside, and the most persistent were fixed by rather narrow strip in the middle of a primer, trying to prevent to meet to two narrow ribbons. However, they managed it not always.

All anything. To go on shoulders - not to go most, but … To keep there is nothing. For hair? Or for ears? So winds here and there at each ottsovy step. You will pull either that, or another inadvertently. And the father will scream from pain and will release legs. - joint stock company you will depart down … Is not present

, it holds by legs, seemingly, strong. And all the same. When itself - it is more reliable. Only for what? Perhaps here so - to twist hands with a ring around the ottsovy head and by means of fingers to link them a strong lock at his forehead?

Earth there, below. It is terrible to look. But it is far visible.

The road leaving forward, slightly winding on the lugovena. Rare butterflies who that will sit down on what white, yellow or blue flower suddenly will zapoloshno wave wings and will fly to the wood that from two parties went down from hillocks to the ravine. To them, probably, too hot. Here they also hide in tenyok where the sun did not manage to dry up droplets of the cool which remained since morning yet.

And it that? Who? An equal row of the people moving across the ravine towards, strange and rhythmically swinging hands. Up and to the right. Slightly hands stood and right there went - down and to the left. Again for a minute stood both again - up and to the right. Together with the movement of hands, which once again - down and to the left, a step forward. To us.

Closer, closer … Something, in a step to rhythmical waves, vzblyoskivat an uneven faltering narrow tape before this human row from time to time.

And they saw us. Stopped. Someone, having covered eyes from the blinding sun, put a palm to a forehead, peering.

Even closer. Already nearby.

- May god speed you. Kind day all!

- Kind. God - that God and itself would help. On the farm?

- Where still? And what so late? Dew, it seems, descended for a long time.

- And you whose will be, knowing? Now divorced such. With the higher educations. What lugovina was. A clover - a carpet. No, the agronomsha on spring disposed of Vika to sow. And what it suprotiv clover? Fie! Greens one. Smell of the present, grassy, softness. And what? The cow this is will be? Of course, if in the winter of what there is no another, here the muzzle will not be turned away. And you bring it a bunch of kleverovy hay in one hand, the bunch of it is in another. What will she choose? For it the clover is more sweet than that to honey. Milk - that from it what … Fat, even yellow. Oil also should not be shaken up almost. And began to smell? You drink milk, and from a mug - the spirit meadow goes. Ý - eekh …

- Well, you what, Larion, on the person attacked? It - then at what affairs? Agronomshe so told nothing.

- Do not urge on, did not harness. And I will also tell. I will tell. You think - the gut is thin? Do not think.

And again to the father:

- You are not, however, on the farm - to whom? Something is given to me, as if and a familiar face. It seems saw you somewhere. And where …

- Yes to Mikhey. It has an estate - the second from it to edge. And I am his brother-in-law. Olga`s brother. Wives. Here from the mother-in-law, from the Cossack, with the son we go.

- You, Lyol? - I look - a familiar muzzle. Precisely familiar! And me what, you do not remember? Same I helped you with Mikhey carpets from the city last winter to bring.

- Stall?.

- It is most! Sabbath, men. Let`s smoke so far and pogutary with compatriots. You as, Lyol, tabachok not rich?

- Well if usmansky “Prima“ arranges, fly, the gromadena. Fell in price!

And the father slightly stirred up the red, a little trampled-down pack taken from a breast shirt pocket. To the edges of cigarette sleeves which leaned out of the torn top suntanned hands stretched.

- The Usmansky tabachok, still anything, but with morshansky makhorka … No, not to compare.

- You will tell too. There is a self-garden … That, really, gorlodyor. Made couple of inhalings, and eyes on a forehead got.

- Where you saw that makhra now? Moreover and wrinkling - ansky!

- No, Usmani is better there is no tobacco now., week to that was in the Long Glade, came into general store. Bought Yelets “Belomor“. With a stock still, the fool old. The mobile shop trailer when still will reach us? So you estimate. I open a pack, I get a cigarette. Blew in a mouthpiece … And it is not strong! So that for the best draft slightly to vorukhnut packed stuffing. And tobacco all from a sleeve also took off. I - the second cigarette. Same gum. All pack such. Would pootryvat hands for such stuffing.

- Aha. You will tear off. What “hands“? They have, probably, a mechanization!

- Yes. Same, as well as at us. Where new mowing machine? You when the last time in work saw it?

- So spare parts …

- “Zap - cha - ast“ … It to new - that to the car? Something disturbs the foul dancer of a zavzhda.

- Would be what to mow and reap. There, though sickle. Where? Where it?! Winter collected much? And summer. Came into ear, and I pound?, everything dries on a root. Read out from the Trinity, there is no rain normal …

Well, it is necessary - olgo. Already long ago on the farm would be. There at the yard - a swing. If did not break, of course. And the wooden crossbeam - a seat mat last time was not. But Kolk can ask that. He will make. If houses, of course. It now more and more in the city and in the city.

What to do? Perhaps is closer to the wood, in a grass to posherudit? You never know, what small lizard decided to get out, on the sun to get warm. Stones cretaceous as at an oak, were. Small lizards love them. Will climb and sit, happy. From above - the sun burns, from below - a stone warm. Of course, fast, nimble they. Try, catch. Still it was impossible to me. But tail too anything. Tied to a cord and on a neck. As real Indian. I these tails - have more than scalps of white men.

The main thing that the granny did not see a tail on a neck. And that will throw out. From it will become.

- Kostya. To - ostya - aa! Where are you?!

- Here, here I.

- How, has a rest? Well, be, men.

- Happily, Lyol. So look, in a week. Cherry good. Large, juicy. Will just ripen. Cheaper, precisely I speak, you will not find. Berry - washing, buckets - yours. Send a zhyonka. Olga knows where my hut. Only the arrangement - collects. I will give a step-ladder.

- Well, agreed. Went, Kos. Everything, remained already a little. Slightly - slightly. We will rise by a hillock and - houses.