What is the story of the station caretaker. A.S. Pushkin "Stationander. Genre and direction

Stationery: Original)

(quote. by www.rvb.ru)

College recorder

Post station dictator.

Prince Vyazemsky.

Who did not curse the station caretakers, who did not scold with them? Who, per minute of anger, did not require a fatal book from them, in order to enter his useless complaint about oppression, rudeness and malfunction? Who does not honor their monsters of the human race, equal to the late fits or at least Muromsky robber? We will, however, are fair, we will try to enter their position and maybe we will judge them much more condescending. What is a station caretaker? The fourteenth-class martyr, fenced with its rank of Tokmo from beatings, is not always (refer to the conscience of my readers). What is the position of this dictator, how does the prince of Vyazemsky call him? Is not a real cautious? Running neither afternoon nor at night. All the annoyance accumulated during the boring ride, the traveler will take place on a caretaker. The weather is bad, the road is bad, the yamper is stubborn, the horses are not lucky - and the caretaker is to blame. Entering his poor housing passing looks at him as an enemy; Well, if he succeeds to him to get rid of the unborn guest; But if the horses do not happen? .. God! What kind of curses, what threats will fall on his head! In the rain and sludge is forced to run around the courtyards; In a storm, in the Epiphany frost, he leaves in Song, so that only a minute to rest from the screaming and the joy of irritated guest. General comes; The trembling caretaker gives him two last three, including the courier. The general goes, without saying thanks to him. In five minutes - the bell! .. And Feldgereger throws him to the table his glory! .. I breathe in all this well, and instead of indignation, our heart turns with sincere compassion. A few more words: For twenty years, I have sought it from Russia in all directions; Almost all postal paths are known to me; Several generations of yammchikov know me; I don't know a rare caretaker in my face, I didn't have things with rare; Curious stock of my observations I hope to publish in a short time; I will only say that the estational caretaker is submitted to the general opinion in the most false form. These are so slandered cautors in general, the essence of people peaceful, from nature helpful, inclined to the hostel, modest in attractions for honors and not too soberly. From their conversations (by koim, the gentlemen neglect the gentlemen) you can learn a lot of curious and instructive. As for me, I confess, I prefer their conversation speeches of any official of the 6th grade, following the treasury need.

It can be easily guess that I have friends from the fertile estate of caretaker. In fact, the memory of one of them is precious. Circumstances once brought us closer, and I intend to talk with my kind readers now.

In 1816, in May months, I happened to pass through *** Wheel province, on the tract, now destroyed. I was in my fine rank, I was driving on the crosses and paid runs for two horses. As a result, the caretakers did not ceremony with me, and I often piral with battle, what, in my opinion, should be rightfully. Being young and quick-tempered, I indignantly on the lowestness and the farewell of the caretaker, when this last gave me a three-wheelchair to the stroller of the official Barin. As long as I could not get used to the tears of the slap, I would like me with a dish at the governor dinner. Now it seems to me in the order of things. In fact, it would be with us if instead of a general rule: rank rankit was used by another, for example: mind mind read? What a dispute would arise! And servants from whom would the Kushan come to serve? But I appeal to my story.

The day was hot. In three versts from the station ***, it began to stick up, and after a minute, the torrential rain pulled me to the last thread. Upon arrival at the station, the first concern was quickly changed, the second to ask for a tea. "Hey, Dunya! - shouted the caretaker, - put samovar yes, go for cream. " While the words came out due to the partition, the girl of the age of fourteen and ran in the sen. Beauty struck me. "Is this your daughter?" I asked the caretaker. "Daughter-C," he answered with a view of a satisfied pride, "yes so reasonable, such a prompt, all the mother in the late man." Then he began to rewrite my zaeznaya, and I was engaged in the consideration of the pictures that were adorned by the humble, but neutral abode. They portrayed the history of the prodigal son: In the first, the eagle old man in the cap and Slaforka lets a restless young man who hurriedly takes his blessing and bag with money. In other bright features, the depraved behavior of a young man is depicted: he sits at the table, surrounded by false friends and shameless women. Next, the well-trapped young man, in a rubbish and in a triangular hat, grabs pigs and divides me a meal; In his face depicted deep sadness and repentance. Finally, his return to his father is presented; A kind old man in the same cap and salafoot runs to him towards him: the prodigal son stands on his knees; In the future, the cook kills the still calf, and the elder brother promises servants about the reason for such joy. Under each picture I read decent German poems. All this donne has been preserved in my memory, as well as pots with

balzamin, and a bed with a motley curtain, and other subjects, surrounding me at the time. I see, as now, the host itself, a man of ages of fifty, fresh and vigorous, and his long green shade with three medals on polyny-tapes.

I did not have time to pay with the old my yammer, as Dunya returned with a samovar. Little coquette from the second look noticed the impression of it on me; She raised big blue eyes; I began to talk with her, she answered me without any timidity, like a girl who saw the light. I suggested a father her glass punch; I filed a cup of tea, and we threatened to talk to talk, as if the eyelids were familiar.

Horses were ready for a long time, but I didn't want to part with the caretaker and his daughter. Finally I used to say goodbye to them; Father wished me a good way, and my daughter spent to cart. In the Seine I stopped and asked her permission to kiss her; Dunya agreed ... I can count a lot of kisses, since I do it, but none left in me so long, such a pleasant memories.

Horses have become a postal house. Included in the room, I immediately recognized pictures depicting the story of the prodigal son; The table and bed stood in former places; But there were no colors on the windows, and dilapidation and negligence showed everything around. The caretaker slept under Tulup; my arrival woke it up; He brought ... It was precisely Samson Vyrin; But how he aged! Ponysta was going to rewrite my zaiga region, I looked at his gray, on the deep wrinkles of a long unsubstantiated face, on the ground-born back - and could not put aside how three or four years could turn a vigorous man in a brilliant old man. "Did you find me? - I asked him - we are with you old friends. " - "It may be," he answered sullenly, - here the road is large; I had a lot of passage. " - "Is your Dunya health?" - I continued. The old man frowned. "And God knows her," he answered. "So, you can see, she is married?" - I said. The old man pretended, as if he did not hear my question, and continued to read my zaja. I stopped my questions and ordered to put the kettle. Curiosity began to disturb me, and I hoped that Punche would allow my old acquaintance language.

I was not mistaken: the old man did not abandon the proposed glan. I noticed that Rus clarified his gloominess. In the second glass he became talkative; I remembered or showed the look as if I remembered me, and I learned from him the story, which at that time he took me much and touched.

"So you knew my Dunya? - He began. - Who did not know her? Ah, Dunya, Dunya! What a girl was! It happened who would emit, all praise, no one will condemn. Baryni gave her, that tiled, that earrings. The gentlemen passage was deliberately stopped, as if dinner, al dinner, and in fact only to look at her anymore. It happened, Barin, whatever angry, with her subsides and mercifully talks to me. Believe it, sir: couriers, Feldgerer with her halfcase spoken. Her house was kept: what to get, what to cook, I had time for everything. And I, the old fool, I will not know, I happened, I do not think; I didn't love my Duni, I didn't cherish my childhood; Has her no live? Yes no, you will not give up the trouble; What is destined, not to be avoided. " Here he began to tell my grief in detail. Three years ago, one day, in the winter evening, when the caretaker rave a new book, and his daughter was sewed for a partition, the Troika arrived, and passing in the Circassian hat, in the military overhang, enveloped by the shawl, entered the room, demanding horses. Horses were all in acceleration. With ses of the news, the traveler elevated his voice and Nagayka; But the Danny, accustomed to such scenes, ran out due to the partition and gently turned to the carriage with the question: would it not please anyone to eat something? The appearance of the Duni made an ordinary effect. The anger of the passage passed; He agreed to wait for the horses and ordered his dinner. After removing the wet, the ridiculous hat, letting the shawl and holding over the sevel, the passage was young, slender hussar with black mustache. He is located near the caretaker, he began having fun talking to him and with his daughter. Sung dinner. Meanwhile, the horses came, and the caretaker ordered that immediately, not feed, harnessed them into a kibitka of the carriage; But, returning, he found a young man almost without memory of the bed lying on the shop: he was mistaken badly, his head was painful, it was impossible to go ... how to be! The caretaker lost his bed to him, and it was necessary if the patient would not be easier, to send in from *** in the morning.

The next day, Gusaru became worse. The man drove him riding in the city for the pit. Dunya knitted his head with a handkerchief, wet vinegar, and sat with her sewing from his bed. The patient with a champion of Ohl and did not speak almost a word, however, he drank two cups of coffee and, ohae, ordered lunch. Dunya did not leave him. He remembered to drink, and Dunya brought him a mug of a harvested lemonade. The patient loomed the lips and every time, returning a mug, as a sign of gratitude weakly his hand shook his hand. Head came to dinner. He felt the patient's pulse, talked to him in German and in Russian announced that he needed one tranquility and that two days he could go on the road. Gusar handed him twenty-five rubles for a visit, invited him to dine; The doctor agreed; Both ate with a big appetite, drank a bottle of wine and parted very satisfied with each other.

He passed another day, and the hussar completely recovered. He was extremely cheerful, jumped up with a dune, then with a caretaker; Wasted songs, spoke

with the passage, entered their rigorous in the postal book, and so I loved the good caulier, that on the third morning it was a pity to part with my delicious guest. The day was Sunday; Dunya was going to dinner. Hussari filed a kibituka. He said goodbye to the caretaker, generously awarding him for the post and treat; I said goodbye to the Dnene and volunteered to take it to the church, which was on the edge of the village. Dunya stood in bewilderment ... "What are you afraid of? Said her father, "because his gradually, not a wolf and you will not eat you: ride to the church." Dunya sat down into a kibitka near Gusar, the servant jumped on the iris, the yamper whistled, and the horses rocked.

The poor caretaker did not understand how he could afford his dune to go along with Husar, as loyalty found him, and that then was with his mind. It did not pass and half an hour, as a heart began to whine, whining, and anxiety took possession of it to such an extent that he did not lose and went himself to dinner. Approaching the church, he saw that the people had already diverged, but the Duni was not in a fence or in pellets. He hurriedly entered the church: the priest came out of the altar; Dyachie quenched the candles, the two old women prayed in the corner; But Duni in the church was not. The poor father of Nasil decided to ask Dyachka if she had a lunch. Dyacier answered that he did not happen. The caretaker went home nor dead. One remained Hope: Dunya on the windiness of young years did he think, maybe ride until the next station, where her godfather lived. In painful excitement, he expected the return of the troika on which he let her go. The bar did not return. Finally, in the evening he arrived alone and Hamlen, with a murderous news: "Dunya from that station went further with Gusar."

The old man did not demolish his misfortune; He immediately run into the same bed where the young deceiver was lying on the day before. Now the caretaker, thinking all the circumstances, guessed that the disease was pretended. Poorly zalenor is strong hot; He was brought in from *** and on his place were determined for the time of another. The same doctor who came to Gusaru, treated him. He assured the caretaker that the young man was quite healthy and that then he also guessed him about his evil intention, but silent, fearing his nagikek. The truth was the German, or only wanted to boast a long-scale, but he did not comfort him a poor patient. As soon as it is rushing from the disease, the caretaker scored from from *** postmaster holidays for two months and, without saying any word about his intention, went on foot for his daughter. He knew from Zaporzhennaya that Rothmist Minsk was driving from Smolensk to St. Petersburg. The barber who was lucky, told that the whole path was crying, although it seemed to have been driving on her hunt. "Avos," the caretaker thought, "I'll give my home lamb home." He arrived in St. Petersburg with this thought, he stopped at the Izmailovsky regiment, in the house of the retired Unter-Officer, his old colleague, and began his searches. Soon he learned that the Rothmist Minsk in St. Petersburg and lives in the Derute restaurant. The caretaker decided to appear to him.

Early in the morning he came to his front and asked him to report his gradually, that the old soldier asks to see him. Military lacquer, brushing boots on the block, announced that the barin is revealed and that before eleven hours does not accept anyone. The caretaker went and returned at the appointed time. Minsk came out to him in a bathrobe, in the Red Skuchery. "What, brother, is you needed?" He asked him. The heart of the old man boiled down, the tears felt in their eyes, and he said with a trembling voice only: "Your grazing vote! .. Make such a divine mercy! .." Minsk looked at him quickly, broke out, took him by the hand, led him to the office and locked him a door. "Your gradually! - continued the old man - what fell from the wrong, it was gone; Give me at least poor my dunny. After all, you have come across it; Do not destroy her laughing. " - "What is done, he does not turnover," the young man said in extreme confusion, - to blame to you and glad to ask for forgiveness; But do not think that I could leave the Dunya: she will be happy, give you an honest word. Why do you need her? She loves Me; She looked away from the previous state. Neither you, Nion - you will not forget what happened. " Then, having thrown into him something for the sleeve, he opened the door, and the caretaker, he himself did not remember how, found himself on the street.

For a long time he stood motionless, finally saw a bunch of papers for a crust of his sleeve; He took them out and deployed several five and ten-membered crumpled assignments. Tears again felt in front of him, tears of indignation! He squeezed the papers in a lump, threw them to the ground, he poured it with a heel and went ... he had heard a few steps, he stopped, thought ... and turned back ... but no banknotes were already. A well-dressed young man, seeing him, ran up to the cabin, sat down hastily and shouted: "I went! .." The caretaker did not chase him. He decided to go home to his station, but before he wanted to even see his dinner at least once. For these days, he turned back to Minsk; But Military Lacius told him harshly that the barin does not accept anyone, the breasts pushed him out of the front and slapped the door to him under his breath. The caretaker stood, stood - and went.

On this very day, in the evening, he walked along the foundry, after serving the prayer for all the grief. Suddenly they were rushed in front of him with shruzki, and the caretaker recognized the Minsk. The yeast stopped in front of the three-story house, at the entrance itself, and the hussar ran into the porch. Happy thought flashed in the head of the caretaker. He has grown and, having gone with Kucher: "Whose, brother, horse? He asked, - Does not Minsk? " - "Different way," Kucher answered, "and what are you?" - "Yes, that's what: Your Barin ordered me to attribute a note to his dun, and I just live, where Dunya lives him. "-" Yes, here in the second floor. You were late, brother, with your note; Now he himself is. " "There is no need," the caretaker objected to the inexplicable movement of the heart, "Thank you for supervised, and I will do my job." And with this word he went on the stairs.

The doors were locked; He called, passed a few seconds in his waiting for him. The key was drunk, he was discharged. "Does Avdota Samsonovna stand here?" - he asked. "Here," the young maid answered, "why should you need her?" The caretaker, not answering, entered the hall. "It is impossible, it is impossible! - screamed after his maid, - Avdoti Samsonovna guests. " But the caretaker, not listening, went further. The two first rooms were dark, there was a fire in the third. He approached the dissolved door and stopped. In the room, perfectly cleaned, Minsk sat in thought. Dunya, dressed with all the luxury of fashion, sat on the handle his chairs, like a rider in his English saddle. She looked at the Minsk with tenderness on Minsk, wining his black curls on his sparkling fingers. Poor caretaker! Never daughter did not seem to him so beautiful; He unwittingly admired her. "Who's there?" She asked, not rising heads. He was silent everything. Without receiving a response, Dunya raised his head ... And with a screaming fell on the carpet. The frightened Minsk rushed to raise her and, suddenly seeing the door of the old caretaker, left the Dunya and approached him, trembling with anger. "What is needed? - He told him, squeezing his teeth, - what are you standing for me everywhere like a robber? Or do you want to slaughter me? Go away!" "And, by a strong hand grabbed the old man by the gate, pushed him into the stairs.

The old man came to his apartment. The buddy advised him to complain; But the caretaker thought, waved his hand and decided to retreat. Two days later, he went from St. Petersburg back to his station and began again for his position. "For the third year already," he concluded, "as I live without the Duni and how neither a hearing or spirit about it. Lives whether, God does not know her. Everything happens. Not her first, not her last cleaned the passage of the lunch, and there he held it, and he threw. Many of them in St. Petersburg, young fools today in the atlasa and velvet, and tomorrow, you will see, watch the street together with Gol Kabatskoy. How I think sometimes that the Dunya, maybe, immediately disappears, so they imagine will be sinned yes you wish her graves ... "

That was the story of my friend of my, the old caretaker, the story, repeatedly interrupted by tears, who squeezed picturesquely he had his own body as a diligent terrentie in the beautiful ballad Dmitriev. Sea tears are partly excited by the punch, who stretched

n five glasses in the continuation of their narration; But be that as it may they strongly touched my heart. I stop with him, I could not forget the old caretaker for a long time, I thought about the poor man for a long time ...

Recently, traveled through the place ***, I remembered about my friend; I learned that the station on which he bought was already destroyed. To my question: "Is the old caretaker live?" - No one could give me a satisfactory answer. I decided to visit the familiar side, took free horses and went to the village of N.

It happened in the fall. Serious clouds covered the sky; Cold wind blended with fires, taking red and yellow leaves from counter trees. I arrived in the village at sunset and stopped at the postal house. In Seni (where the poor Dunya had once kissed me), a fat woman came out and my questions answered that the old caretaker since the year as a died that the brewer was settled in his house, and that she was a brewing wife. I felt a pity of my vain trips and seven rubles, reducible for nothing. "Why did he die?" I asked my wife's brewer. "Spark, father," she answered. "And where did you bury him?" - "For the Occolta, the deceased hostess of it." - "Is it possible to bring me to his grave?" - "Why can't you. Hey, Vanka! Fully you mess around with the cat. Conduct the Barin on the cemetery, but point him to the cloth grave. "

While the words, a broken boy, a red and curve, ran out to me and immediately led me for the Occolic.

Did you know the dead man? I asked him dear.

How not to know! He learned me cutting me. It happened (the kingdom he is heaven!), It goes from the Kabaka, and we are behind him: "Grandfather, grandfather! nuts! " - And he puts us on nuts. Everything happened, we will be hired.

And the passage remember him?

Yes nonon little passage; Did the bureau won't finish, and not to the dead. In the summer he droveed the lady, so she asked about the old cavering and went to him on the grave.

What a lady? - I asked with curiosity.

Beautiful lady, - a boy answered; - she drove into a carriage of six horses, with three small barcats and with a cormal, and with a black Moskoy; And as she was told that the old caretaker died, so she was crying and told the children: "Sit to sleep, and I go to the cemetery." And I was volunteered to bring it. And the lady said: "I know the way myself." And he gave me a plot of silver - such a good lady! ..

We came to the cemetery, a naked place, not fenced, littered with wooden crosses, not autonated with a single tree. The father did not see such a sad cemetery.

Here is the grave of the old caretaker, "the boy told me, blowing on his pile of sand, into which the black cross was lying with a copper way.

And the lady came here? - I asked.

Come, "Vanka answered," I looked at her from screeding. She lay here and lying long. And there the lady went to the village and called on the pop, gave him money and went, and I gave me a plot with silver - a glorious lady!

And I gave the boy in Piglet and did not regret anything about the trip, nor about seven rubles, I was spent.

Ms. Prostakova.

That is my father, he still dies to the hunter stories.

Cattlein.

Mitrofan for me.

College registrar,

Postal station dictator

Prince Vyazemsky

Who did not curse the station caretakers, who did not scold with them? Who, per minute of anger, did not require a fatal book from them, in order to enter his useless complaint about oppression, rudeness and malfunction? Who does not honor their monsters of human kind, equal to the late attiation or at least Murom robber? We will, however, are fair, we will try to enter their position, and maybe we will judge them much more condescertain. What is a station caretaker? The fourteenth-class martyr, fenced with its rank of Tokmo from beatings, is not always (refer to the conscience of my readers). What is the position of this dictator, how does the prince of Vyazemsky call him? Is not a real cautious? Running neither afternoon nor at night. All the annoyance accumulated during the boring ride, the traveler will take place on a caretaker. The weather is bad, the road is bad, the yamper is stubborn, the horses are not lucky - and the caretaker is to blame. Entering his poor housing, passing looks at him, as an enemy; Well, if I manage to get rid of the unaccepting guest soon; But if the horses do not happen? .. God! What kind of curses, what threats will fall on his head! In the rain and sludge is forced to run around the courtyards; In a storm, in the Epiphany frost, he leaves in Song, so that only a minute to rest from the screaming and the joy of irritated guest. General comes; The trembling caretaker gives him two last three, including the courier. The general goes, without saying thanks to him. For five minutes - the bell!, And the Feldgerer throws him on the table to his zavernaya! .. I breathe in all this well, and instead of indignation, our heart will be sincere compassion. A few more words: For twenty years, I have seated Russia in Russia in all directions; Almost all postal paths are known to me; Several generations of yammchikov know me; I don't know a rare caretaker in my face, I didn't have things with rare; Curious stock of my observations I hope to publish in a short time; I will only say that the estational caretaker is submitted to the general opinion in the most false form. These are so slandered cautors in general, the essence of people peaceful, from nature helpful, inclined to the hostel, modest in attractions for honors and not too soberly. From their conversations (by koim, the gentlemen neglect the gentlemen) you can learn a lot of curious and instructive. As for me, I confess, I prefer their conversation speeches of any official of the 6th grade, following the treasury need.

In 1816, in May months, I happened to pass through *** Wheel province, on the tract, now destroyed. I was in my fine rank, I was driving on the crosses, and paid the run for two horses. As a result, the caretakers did not ceremony with me, and I often piral with battle, what, in my opinion, should be rightfully. Being young and quick-tempered, I indignantly on the lowestness and the farewell of the caretaker, when this last gave me a three-wheelchair to the stroller of the official Barin. As long as I could not get used to the tears of the slap, I would like me with a dish at the governor dinner. Now it seems to me in the order of things. In fact, it would be with us if instead of a general rule: rank rank It was used by another, for example: mind mind read? What a dispute would arise! And servants from whom would the Kushan come to serve? But I appeal to my story.

The day was hot. In three versts from the station ***, it began to stick up, and after a minute, the torrential rain pulled me to the last thread. Upon arrival at the station, the first concern was quickly changed, the second to ask for a tea. "Hey Dunya! - shouted the caretaker, - put a samovar, let go behind cream. " While the words came out due to the partition, a girl of fourteen, and ran in Songy. Beauty struck me. "Is this your daughter?" I asked the caretaker. - "Daughter-C," he answered with the kind of satisfied pride; - Yes, so reasonable, such a prompt, the whole mother in the late man. " Then he began to rewrite my zaeznaya, and I was engaged in the consideration of the pictures that were adorned by the humble, but neutral abode. They portrayed the history of the prodigal son: In the first, the eagle old man in the cap and Slaforka lets a restless young man who hurriedly takes his blessing and bag with money. In other bright features, the depraved behavior of a young man is depicted: he sits at the table, surrounded by false friends and shameless women. Next, the well-trapped young man, in a rubbish and in a triangular hat, grabs pigs and divides me a meal; In his face depicted deep sadness and repentance. Finally, his return to his father is presented; A kind old man in the same cap and salafoot runs to him towards him: the prodigal son stands on his knees; In the future, the cook kills the still calf, and the elder brother promises servants about the reason for such joy. Under each picture I read decent German poems. All this is preserved in my memory, as well as pots with a balsamine and a bed with a motley curtain, and other items, I surrounded at that time. I see, as now, the host itself, a man of ages of fifty, fresh and vigorous, and his long green shade with three medals on polyny-tapes.

\u003e\u003e From the history of the creation of the "Agenda of Ivan Petrovich Belkin". "Stationander"

From the history of the creation of "Hanga of Ivan Petrovich Belkin"
In 1831, A. S. Pushkin published the "Tale of Belkina" ("Shot", "Misel", "Ummaker", "Stationery", "Baryshnya-peasant"). The story was attributed to Pushkin Ivan Petrovich Belkin, what was said in the preface "from the publisher." This, Pushkin immediately gave readers the key to understand their leaders.

Announcing I. P. Belkin's author, he clarified his thought: Belkin did not "invented", but only recorded some stories, or, as he was expressed, "jokes", from several narrator. Readers - Contemporaries Pushkin - understood that Alexander Pushkin was a true writer, who was "publisher D. P.", which "invented" and Belkin and Narlastors was jokingly hidden behind the name "Publisher D. P.". So, he had some kind of purpose, his look at the events depicted, on the heroes, to Russian life, to Russian literature. Pushkin, as it were, forced Belkina to record not random stories of their friends, but those that were thoughtfully selected. They had to help Pushkina put in front of readers who worried many questions: what are the acts of a person, his moral beliefs and that more determines his life and fate?

Stationery
College registrar,
Post station dictator.
Prince Vyazemsky

Who did not curse station caretakers, who did not scold with them? Who, per minute of anger, did not require a fatal book from them, in order to enter his useless complaint about oppression, rudeness and malfunction? Who does not honor their monsters of the human race, the early deceased fiction1 or, at least, Muromsky robber? We will, however, are fair, we will try to enter their position and maybe we will judge them much more condescending. What is a station caretaker? The fourteenth-class martyr, fenced with its rank of Tokmo from beatings, is not always (refer to the conscience of my readers). What is the position of this dictator, how does the prince of Vyazemsky call him? Is not a real cautious? Running neither day or night.

1 Council - Assistant Deca, stationery.

All the annoyance accumulated during the boring ride, the traveler will take place on a caretaker. The weather is bad, the road is bad, the yamper is stubborn, the horses are not lucky - and the caretaker is to blame. Entering his poor housing, passing looks at him as an enemy; Well, if he succeeds to him to get rid of the unborn guest; But if the horses do not happen? .. God! What kind of curses, what threats will fall on his head! In the rain and slush is forced to run around the courtyards; In a storm, in the Epiphany frost, he leaves in Song, so that only a minute to rest from the scream and the joy of an irritated guest.

General comes; The trembling caretaker gives him the last three, including the courier. The general goes, without saying thanks to him. Five minutes later - the bell! "And Feldgerer1 throws him to the table his zaigorozhnaya! .. In addition to all this well, and instead of indignation, our heart turns with sincere compassion. A few more words: For twenty years, I have sold off the whole of Russia, but all directions; Almost all postal paths are known to me; Several generations of yammchikov know me; I don't know a rare caretaker in my face, I didn't have things with rare; Curious stock of my observations I hope to publish in a short time; I will only say that the estational caretaker is submitted to the general opinion in the most false form. These are so slandered caretakers in general, people are peaceful, from nature helpful, prone to hostel, modest in attractions for honors and not too sober. From their conversations (by koim, the gentlemen neglect the gentlemen) you can learn a lot of curious and instructive. As for me, I confess, I prefer their conversation speeches of any official of the 6th grade, following the treason need.

Now it seems to me in the order of things. In fact, what would be with us if instead of the general rule: rank rank - was used to use something else, for example: mind mind read? What an iIffegere neplory would arise! And servants from whom would the dishes begin to serve? But I appeal to my story.

The day was hot. In three versts from the station ***, it began to stick up, and after a minute, torrential rain pulled me to the last thread. Upon arrival at the station, the first concern was quickly changed, the second is to ask himself. "Hey, Dunya! - shouted the caretaker, - put samovar yes, go for cream. " With these words, a girl of fourteen years old was released due to the partition and ran in Song. Beauty struck her me. "Is this your daughter?" - I asked the caretaker. "Daughter-C," he answered with a view of a satisfied pride, "yes so reasonable, such a prompt, all the mother in the late man." Here he began to rewrite my zaeznaya, and I took the consideration of the pictures that were decorated with a humble, but neat abode. They portrayed the history of the prodigal son. In the first, the honorable old man in the cap and Slagoruk releases a restless young man who hastily takes his blessing and bag with money. In another bright features, the depraved behavior of a young man is depicted: he sits at the table, surrounded by false friends and shameless women. Next, trampled
the young man, in a rubbish and a triangular hat, grabs pigs and shares with them a meal; In his face depicted deep sadness and repentance.

Finally, his return to his father is presented; Good old man in the same cap and salafoot runs to him towards him; The prodigal son is on his knees; In the future, the cook kills the still calf, and the elder brother promises servants about the reason for such joy. Under each picture I read decent German poems.

All this donny has been preserved in my memory, as well as pots with a balsamine, and a bed with a pan-curtain, and other items, surrounding me at that time. I see, as now, the host itself, a man of ages of fifty, fresh and vigorous, and his long green ditch with three medals on polynyaya tapes.

I did not have time to pay with the old my yammer, as Dunya returned with a samovar. Little coquette from the second look noticed the impression of her on me; She raised big blue eyes; I began to talk with her, she answered me without any timidity, like a girl who saw the light. I suggested the Father her glass punch; I filed a cup of tea, and we threatened to talk to talk, as if the eyelids were familiar.

Horses were ready for a long time, and I didn't want to part with the caretaker and his daughter. Finally I used to say goodbye to them; Father wished me a good way, and my daughter spent to cart. In the saint, I stopped and asked her permission to kiss her; Dunya agreed ... I can count a lot of kisses, "Since I have been doing this," but no one has left so long, such a pleasant memories.

Several years have passed, and the circumstances led me to the very tract, in the very places. I remembered the daughter of the old caretaker and delighted with the thought that I would see her again. But I thought, the old caretaker, maybe already replaced; Probably the Dunya is already married. The thought of death of this or the other also flashed in my mind, and I
approached the *** station with sad premonition. Horses have become a postal house. Included in the room, I immediately recognized pictures depicting the story of the prodigal son; The table and bed stood in former places; But there were no colors on the windows, and everything and negligence showed everything around. The caretaker slept under Tulup; my arrival woke it up; He brought ... It was precisely Samson Vyrin; But how he aged! Ponyatsky was going to rewrite it my zaezhnaya, I looked at his gray, on deep wrinkles a long time ago not a shared face, on the ground back - and could not put as it was how three or four years could turn a vigorous man in a scaled old man. "Did you find me? I asked him. - We are with you old familiar. " - "It may be," he answered sullenly, - here the road is large; I had a lot of passage. " - "Is your Dunya health?" - I continued. The old man frowned. "And God knows her," he answered. "So, you can see, she is married?" - I said. The old man pretended, as if he did not hear my question, and continued to read my zippening with a whisper. I stopped my questions and ordered to put the kettle. Curiosity began to disturb me, and I hoped that Punche would allow my old acquaintance language.

"So you knew my Dunya? - He began. - Who did not know her? Ah, Dunya, Dunya! What a girl was! It happened who would emit, all praise, no one will condemn. Baryni gave her, that boilers, that sergents. Gentlemen, the passage was deliberately stopped, as if dine alone, but in fact only to look at it. It happened, Barin, whatever angry, with her subsides and mercifully talks to me. Believe it, sir: couriers, Feldgerer with her halfcase spoken. Her house kept: what to get,
what to cook, I managed for everything. And I, the old fool, I will not know, I happened, I do not think; I didn't love my Duni, I didn't cherish my childhood; Has her no live? Yes no, you will not give up the trouble; What is destined, not to be avoided. "

Here he began to tell my grief in detail. Three years ago, one day, in the winter evening, when the caretaker launched a new book, and his daughter behind the partition was sewed for his dress, the Troika arrived, and passing in the Circassian hat, in the military overhang, enveloped by the shawl, entered the room, demanding horses. Horses were all in acceleration. In case of the news, the traveler elevated his voice and Nagayka; But the Danny, accustomed to such scenes, ran out due to the partition and gently turned to the carriage with the question: would it not please anyone to eat something? The appearance of the Duni made an ordinary effect. The driving anger passed; He agreed to wait for the horses and ordered his dinner. Having removed the wet, the ridiculous cap, releasing the shawl and climbing the sinel,
the passage was young, slender hussar with black mustache.

He is located near the caretaker, he began having fun to talk to his daughter. Sung dinner. Meanwhile, the horse came, and the caretaker ordered that he would immediately, but feed, harnessed them into a kibitka of the carriage; But, returning, he found a young man with almost no memory of the bed lying on the shop: he was mistaken badly, the head was painful, it was impossible to go ... how to be! The caretaker gave him his bed, and was put on the other day in the morning to send in from *** for Lekarek.

The next day, Gusaru became worse. The man drove him riding in the city of the lacker. Dunya granted his head with a handkerchief, wet vinegar, and sat with her sewing from his bed. The patient with a champion of Ohl and did not speak almost a word, however, he drank two cups of coffee and, ohae, ordered lunch. Dunya did not leave him. He remembered to drink, and Dunya brought him a mug of a harvested lemonade.

Fucking the lips and every time, returning the mug, as a sign of gratitude weak his own hand shook his hand. Head came to dinner. He felt the patient's pulse, talked to him in German and in Russian announced that he needed one tranquility and that two days he could go on the road. Gusar handed him twenty-five rubles for a visit, invited him to dine; The doctor agreed; Both ate with a big appetite, drank a bottle of wine and parted very satisfied with each other.

Milashevsky. "Stationander"

What mood is this illustration to the story "Stationander"?

She passed another day, and the hussar completely recovered. He was extremely cheerful, she joked without celestial, then with a caretaker; Durable songs, talked to the passage, entered their rigorous in the postal book, and so fell in love with a good caretaker, that on the third morning it was a pity to part with the courtesy of the guests. The day was Sunday; Dunya was going to dinner. Hussari filed a kibituka. He said goodbye to the caretaker, generously awarding him for the post and treat; I said goodbye to the Dunne and volunteered to take it to the church, which was on the edge of the village. Dunya stood in bewilderment ... "What are you afraid of? - Told her father. "After all, his gradually wolf is not a wolf and you will not eat: ride to cerebry." Dunya sat down into a kibitka near Gusar, the servant jumped on the iris, the yamper whistled, and the horses rocked. The poor caretaker did not understand how he could afford his dune to go along with Husar, as I found himself blinded and that then was with his mind.

Did not go and half an hour, as a heart began to whine, whining, and anxiety took possession of it to such an extent that
he did not lose and walked himself for lunch. Approaching the church, he saw that the people had already diverged, but the Duni was not in a fence or in pellets. He hurriedly entered the church: the priest came out of the altar; Dyachie quit candles, two old women prayed in the corner; But Duni in the church was not. The poor father of Nasil decided to ask Dyachka if she had a lunch. Dyacier answered that he did not happen. The caretaker went home nor dead. One remained His hope: Dunya on the windy of young years did he think, maybe ride until the next station, where her shameful mother lived. In painful excitement, he expected the return of the troika on which he let her go. The bar did not return. Finally, in the evening he arrived alone and Hamlen, with a murderous news: "Dunya from that station went further with Gusar."

The old man did not fuck her misfortune; He is right there in the same bed where the young deceiver was lying on the day before. Now the caretaker, thinking all the circumstances, guessed that the disease was pretended. Poorly zalenor is strong hot; He was brought in from *** and on his place were determined for the time of another. The same doctor who came to Gusaru, treated him. He assured the caretaker that the young man was completely healthy and that then he also guessed him about his evil intention, but silent, fearing his Nagayki. The truth was the German or
just wished to boast foresight, but he did not comfort the poor patient. As soon as it is rushing from the disease, the caretaker screamed from from *** postmaster vacation for two months and, without saying any word about his intention, went on foot for his daughter.

He knew from Zaporzhennaya that Rothmist Minsk was driving from Smolensk to St. Petersburg. A spacing, who had him, told him that the whole path was crying, although it seemed to be riding his hunt. "Avos," the caretaker thought, "I'll give my home lamb home." He arrived in St. Petersburg with this thought, he stopped at the Izmailovsky regiment, in the house of the retired Unter-Officer, his old colleague, and began his searches. Soon he learned that the Rothmist Minsk in St. Petersburg and lives in the Demete Tractor. The caretaker decided to appear to him. Early in the morning he came to his front and asked him to report his gradually, that the old soldier coordinates Mime to see. Military lacquer, cleaning boots on the block, explained that the barin is revealed and that before eleven hours does not accept
no one. The caretaker went and returned at the appointed time. Minsk nisch himself in a bathrobe, in red Skuchery. "What, brother, is you needed?" He asked him. The heart of the old man boiled, tears felt in front of her eyes, and he only pronounced a trembling voice: "Your gradually! Make such a divine mercy! .. "Minsk
neither looked at him quickly, broke out, took him by the hand, he led to the office and locked the door. "Your gradually! - continued the old man. - What fell with the car, it was gone; Give me at least poor my Dunya. After all, you have come across it; Do not destroy her laughing *. - "What is done, he does not turnover," the young man said in extreme confusion, - to blame to you and glad to ask for forgiveness; But do not think that I could leave the Dunya: she will be happy, give you an honest word. Why do you need her? She loves Me; She looked away from the previous state. Neither you nor she - you will not forget what happened. " Then, putting him to him for the sleeve, he opened the door, and the caretaker himself did not remember how, found himself on the street.

He stood for a long time, he was still motionless, finally saw his sleeves for a crust of his sleeve; He took them out and deployed several five and ten-membered crumpled assignments. Tears again felt in front of him, tears of indignation! He squeezed the papers in a lump, threw them the ground, he poured it with a heel and went ... he had heard a few steps, he stopped, thought ... and turned back ... but there was no time offended. A well-dressed young man, having seen him, ran to the cabovka, sat down hastily and shouted: "I went! .." The caretaker feared him. He decided to go home to his station, but before he wanted to see his poor Dunya once again. For these days, he turned back to Minsk; But Military Lacius told him harshly that the barin does not accept anyone, the breasts pushed him out of the front and slapped the door to him under his breath. The caretaker stood, stood - and went. On this very day, in the evening, he walked through the foundry, after serving the prayer to all the grief. Suddenly they were rushed in front of him with shruzki, and the caretaker recognized the Minsk. The yeast stopped in front of the three-story house, at the entrance itself, and the hussar ran into the porch. Happy thought flashed in the head of the caretaker. He has grown and, having gone with Kucher: "Whose, brother, horse? He asked, - Does not Minsk? " -
"Different way," answered Kucher, "and what do you?" "Yes, that's what: Your Barin ordered me to attribute a note to his dun, and I also forget where Dunya lives him." - "Yes, here, in the second floor. Late you, brother, with yours
note; Now he himself has it. " "There is no need," the caretaker objected with the inexplicable movement of the heart, "Thank you for supervised, and I will do my job." And with this word he went on the stairs. The doors were locked; He called, passed a few seconds in his waiting for him. The key was drunk, he was discharged. "Here
is avdotya Samsonovna? \u200b\u200b" - he asked. "Here," the young maid answered, why should you need her? "
The caretaker, not answering, entered the floor. "It is impossible, it is impossible! - screamed after his maid, - Avdoti Samsonovna guests. " But the caretaker, not listening, went further. The two first rooms were dark, there was a fire in the third. He approached the dissolved door and stopped. In the room, perfectly cleaned, Minsk sat in thought.

Dunya, dressed with all the luxury of fashion, sat on his handle his chairs like a rider in his English saddle *. She looked at the Minsk with tenderness, winding his sparkling fingers. Poor caretaker! Never daughter did not seem to him so beautiful; He unwittingly admired her. "Who's there?" She asked, not rising heads. He was silent everything. Without receiving an answer, Dunya raised his head ... And with a screaming fell on the carpet. The frightened Minsk rushed to raise her and, suddenly seeing the doors of the old caretaker, left the Dunya and walked to him, trembling from anger. "What is needed? - He told him, gritting his teeth. - What are you thinking about me everywhere like a robber? Or do you want to slaughter me? Go away!" "And, by a strong hand grabbed the old man by the gate, pushed him into the stairs.

N. Kompanant. Illustration to Tale

How does the artist pass the inner state of the Father after meeting with his daughter?

The old man came to his apartment. The buddy advised him to complain; But the caretaker thought, waved his hand and decided to retreat. Two days later, he went from St. Petersburg back to his station and began again for his position. "For the third year already, he concluded," as I live without Duni and how neither a rumor neither spirit. Lives whether God does not know her. Everything happens. Not her first, not her last cleaned the passage of the lunch, and there he pulled and threw. Many of them in St. Petersburg, young fools today in the atlasa and velvet, and tomorrow, you will see, watch the street together with Gol Kabatskoy.

How I think sometimes that the Dunya, maybe, immediately disappears, so they imagine will be sinned yes you wish her graves ... "

That was the story of my friend of my, the old caretaker, the story, repeatedly interrupted by tears, which was picturesquely pleased with his body, as a diligent terrentie in the beautiful ballad Dmitrine1. The tears of these partially excited were the punch, which he pulled out five glasses to continue his narration; but however
it was, they greatly touched my heart. I stop with him, I could not forget the old caretaker for a long time, I thought about the poor man for a long time ... Recently, I also, driving through the place ***, I remembered my friend; I learned that the station on which he bought was already destroyed. To my question: "Is the old caretaker live?" - no one
i could not give me a satisfactory answer. I decided to visit the familiar side, took free horses and went to the village of N. It happened in the fall. Serious clouds covered the sky; Cold Eastr dulled with firefields, having taken red and yellow leaves from counter trees. I arrived in the village at sunset and stopped at
postal house. In Seni (where the poor Dunya had once kissed me) I've a fat woman and my questions answered that the old caretaker since the year as died that the brewer was settled in his house, and that she was a brewing wife.

I felt a pity of my vain trips and seven rubles, spent by gift. "Why did he die?" I asked my wife's brewer. "Spark, father," she answered. "And where did you bury him?" - "For the Occolta, the deceased hostess of it." - "Is it possible to bring me to his grave?" - "Why can't you. Hey, Vanka! Fully you mess around with the cat. Conduct the Barin on the cemetery, but point him to the cloth grave. "

While the words, a broken boy, a redhead and curve, ran out to me and immediately told me for the Occolic.
Did you know the dead man? I asked him dear.
How not to know! He learned me cutting me. It happened (the kingdom he heaven!), Comes from the Kabak, and we are behind him: "Grandfather! Grandpa! nuts! " - And he puts us on nuts. Everything happened, we will be hired.

And the passage remember him?
Yes nonon little passage; Did the attor, and not to the dead. In the summer he droveed the lady, so she asked about the old cavering and went to him on the grave.
- What a lady? - I asked with curiosity.
"A wonderful lady," answered the boy, "she drove into six horses in a carriage, with three small barcats and with a cormal, and with a black Moskoy; And as she was told that the old caretaker died, so she was crying and told the children: "Sit to sleep, and I go to the cemetery." And I was volunteered to bring it. And the lady said: "I know the way myself." And he gave me a plot of silver - such a good lady! ..

We came to the cemetery, a bare place, nothing fenced, littered with wooden crosses, not autonated with a single tree. The father did not see such a sad cemetery.
"Here is the grave of an old caretaker," the boy told me, bothering his sand into his pile, into which the black cross was sworn with a copper way.
- And the lady came here? - I asked,
"I came," Vanka answered, "I looked at it from published." She lay here and lying long. And there the lady went to the village and urged "the pop, gave him money and went, and I gave me a plot with silver - a glorious lady!

And I gave the boy in Piglet and did not regret anything about the trip, nor about seven rubles, I was spent.

Share first impressions
1. What is interested in the topic of the story of Alexander Pushkin "Stationander"? What feelings and thoughts awakens the modern reader?
2. What questions would you suggest to discuss the story "Stationander" in the classroom?
3. What kind of talented tale would you like to illustrate and why?

The work refers to the cycle of the "Agens of the late Ivan Petrovich Belkin", wherees, in addition to the "stationander" there are four more works and preface of the publisher. The story "Stationander" is listed by the fourth in the cycle, the text was written on September 14, 1830 in Boldino. A year later, it was published as part of the cycle.

The story is conducted on the face of the foremost landlord of Ivan Petrovich Belkin, invented by Pushkin. Fictional Belkin recalls a semi-forgotten story that Samson Vyrin told him - the caretaker of the station in one of the Russian provinces.

Wasina Dunya's daughter, a beautiful and coquettle girl, captivated by Husar Minsk with his grace. In order not to part with the Duna, Minsk pretended to be sick and used for several days by the Society of the Young Charmany, who cared for him. Samson Vyrin did not suspect deception, and when the "recovered" hussar offered to ride the Dunya to the nearest church, he convinced her daughter to sit in the crew of a decent person. Minskie took the girl to Petersburg and made it with his own content. The father killed by Hormed went to search for her daughter. Minsk tried to pay off from Võined money and convince him that the Dunya lives in brilliance and luxury, in love with him and will not want to return to the father's house. So it turned out. Seeing the Father's threshold, the girl falls into fainting, and Samson wary of the lakes pushed out into the street. Without coping with grief, the old man died. Many years later on his grave, a young lady comes with three children and loosely crying, hugging the hormick overgrown with grass.

The story of Pushkin "Stationander" is written in the style of sentimentalism. This is one of the directions that dominated Russian literature of the first half of the 19th century.

The story of Pushkin "Stationander" was written in 1830 and entered the cycle of the "Agenda of the late Ivan Petrovich Belkin". The leading theme of the work is the topic of a "little man", represented by the submarine caretaker Samson Vyrina. The story belongs to the literary direction sentimentalism.

The compressed statement of the station caretaker will be interested in grade 7 students, as well as to all who are interested in classical Russian literature. On our site you can read the summary of the "station caretaker" online.

main characters

The narrator - An official, who "for twenty years, sought, from Russia," from his face is a narrative in the work.

Samson Sharin - Male of the age of fifty, the stationeer "from the respectable class of caretaker", the father of Duni.

Other heroes

Avdota Samsonovna (Dunya) - Daughter Wyrina, a very beautiful girl, at the beginning of the story for her about 14 years old - "Little coquette" with big blue eyes.

Rothmist Minsk - Young hussar, tricking the dangling.

Son of Brewwara "The boy who showed a storyteller, where the grave of Wyrina is.

The story begins with the reflection of the story about the fate of station caretakers: "What is a station caretaker? The fourteenth-class martyr, fenced with its rank of Tokmo from beatings, is not always. " At the same time, according to the narrative observations, "caretakers are generally the essence of people peaceful, from nature helpful."

In May 1816, the narrator drove through *** Skoy province. The man fell under torrential rain and stopped at the station to change clothes and drink tea. She covered the daughter of the caretaker - Dunya, hitting the story of his beauty.

While the owners were harvested, the narrator examined the room - the pictures depicting the history of the prodigal son hung on the walls. The narrator with the caretaker and Duna drank tea, nicely chatting "as if the ages were familiar." Leaning, the narrator kissed the Dunya in the Seine with her permission.

A few years later, the narrator visited this station again. Entering into the house, he was amazed by negligence and dilapidation of the situation. The caretaker himself, Samson screamed, very old and has tripled. The old man did not want to answer the questions about the daughter of the old man, but after two glasses, Punzha talked.

Vinne said that young hussar was driving three years ago. At first, the visitor was very angry that he was not served by horses, but he saw the Dunya, softened. After dinner, the young man allegedly became bad. Bribeling the doctor caused by the next day, Gusar stayed a couple of days at the station. On Sunday, the young man recovered and, leaving, offered to give a girl to the church. Vyrin let go daughter with hussar.

"It's not half an hour," as the caretaker began to worry and went to the church himself. From a familiar Dycachka, Vyrin found out that the Duni was not on dinner. In the evening, the rummer arrived, a lucky officer, and told that the Dunya went with Husar to the next station. The old man realized that Gusar's disease was pretended. From the grief, the "Zalenor's strong hot".

"Already rushing from the disease," the caretaker took his vacation and went on foot to seek his daughter. From the routine of Minsk Samson knew that Gusar was driving in St. Petersburg. To find out the address of the Rothmistra in St. Petersburg, it comes to him and a trembling voice asks to give him his daughter. Minsk replied that he was asking for Samson forgiveness, but he would not give him to the Dunya - "She will be happy, I give you a honest word." Rusing, Gusar put a caretaker to the street, putting several assignations for his sleeve.

Seeing the money, the sculpt was broken and threw them away. After a couple of days, walking through the foundry, Vinin noticed Minsk. To find out of his kucher, where Dunya lives, the caretaker hurried his daughter in the apartment. Going to the room, Samson caught there a luxuriously dressed dressed man and Minsk. Seeing his father, the girl fainted. The angry Minsk "strong hand grabbed the old man by the gate pushed him into the stairs." Two days later, the virin went back to the station. For the third year, he does not know anything about her and is afraid that her fate is the same as the fate of other "young fools."

After some time, the narrator again drove through those places. Where there used to be the station, now there lived a brewer's family, and screamed, sagging, "since the year as died." The narrator asked him to hold him to Samson's grave. The boy, the son of the brewer, told him on the road that the "beautiful lady" came here here "with three little barcats", which, having come to the grave of the caretaker, "lay down here and lay for a long time."

Output

In story « Stationander "A. S. Pushkin identified a special nature of the conflict, differing from the sedimentalism depicted in the traditional works - a conflict of choosing between personal happiness is written (father's happiness) and happiness of his daughter. The author emphasized the moral superiority of the caretaker ("little man"), over the rest of the heroes, depicting an example of the selfless love of the parent to her child.

A brief retelling of the station caretaker is designed to quickly familiarize themselves with the plot of the work, so for a better understanding of the story we advise you to read it completely.

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