“The Tale of the Girl Nastya and the Evil Invisible Woman” is the first book of the project “New Fairy Tales of the New Time”, which was written by the scientist, TV journalist and writer Yuri Vyazemsky. And even if fairy tales are not the genre he most expected from him, he is sure that new times require new fairy tales. About the most important thing ... Recommended for first-priority reading by adults: smart dads and mothers, as well as the kind grandfathers and grandmothers of our kids.

Not a fairy tale about white geese Tamara Likhotal

You took in hand new book, looked at the pictures, read the title. "What is she about?" you ask. Sometimes this question can be answered right away: "This is a story about a heroic deed" or "This is a story about a fun journey and exciting adventures." But it also happens in another way. The book talks about Everyday life... And you gradually get to know this life. As if nothing special is happening, you just recognize the hero of the book as you would recognize a new friend. You see what he's doing, what he's thinking. You will also recognize the people who live around him - his relatives, ...

A summary of the works of the Russian ... Unknown Unknown

Tales about Vova, presidents and magic Sergey Sedov

Sergey Sedov is a kind and a little sad storyteller. And he is also a philosopher and a magician, very real, and very modest. He himself will never tell you how good he is - his stories will tell about it. Like any good magic stories, Sergei Sedov's fairy tales give hope, but they do not push it, like an experienced tradeswoman in a bazaar, but show the very edge, and the reader, if he is, of course, an attentive person, is free to pull this edge, pull, and indeed to draw out all hope for freedom, from the dusty corner where it lurks. Sergey Sedov is amazing ...

The Tale of the Moonlight Nina Gernet

There was once a children's magazine "Chizh" in Leningrad. Every day they brought and sent there stories, fairy tales, poems - in envelopes, notebooks, on pieces of paper. One manuscript was in a bright pink notebook, and in it a fairy tale, it seems, is English, about a kitten that jumped to the moon. More than thirty years and many, many events have passed since then. And then one day, sorting out old papers, I saw that very pink notebook. But who wrote the tale? Who translated into Russian? Then, in the editorial office, I knew it, now I forgot. And there was no name in the notebook. I decided to retell ...

If you guys think that there are no water ones, then I can tell you that there are, and some more!

For example, even if we, when we were just born, already lived one water in the river Upa, under the dam, and the other in Havlovitsy - you know, there, near the wooden bridge. And one more lived in the Radech brook. He just once came to my father's doctor to pull out a tooth and for this he brought him a basket of silver and pink trout, arranged with nettles so that they would be fresh all the time. Everyone immediately saw that it was a water one: while he was sitting in the dentist's chair, a puddle had flowed under him. And another one was at my grandfather's mill, in Gronov; he kept sixteen horses under water, by the dam, which is why the engineers said that in this place in the river there are sixteen Horse power... These sixteen white horses kept running and running without stopping, and therefore the millstones were turning all the time. And when our grandfather died one night, the water-maker came, slowly unharnessed all sixteen horses, and the mill did not work for three days. On the big rivers there are water-breeders who have even more horses - say, fifty or a hundred; but there are also such poor people that they don’t even have a wooden horse.

Of course, a water-breeder, say, in Prague, on the Vltava, lives as a master: he probably has powerboat, and for the summer he goes to the sea. Why, in Prague, and at some other swindler-sinner, sometimes the hens do not peck money, and he rolls it in the car - tu-tu! - only dirt flies from under the wheels! And there are also such seedy aquatic ones, who have all the good - a puddle with a palm the size of, and in it a frog, three mosquitoes and two swimming beetles. Others vegetate in such a scanty groove that even a mouse will not soak its abdomen in it. For the third, for a whole year, only income is that a couple of paper boats and a baby diaper, which the mother will miss during the wash ... Yes, this is really poverty! But, for example, there are no less than two hundred thousand carps from the Uratiborzh water carp, and in addition, tench, carp, crucian carp and, you see, a hefty pike ... What can I say, there is no justice in the world!

In fact, the aquatic people live alone, but once or twice a year, during a flood, they gather from all over the region and arrange, as they say, district conferences. In our land, they always came together during floods in the meadows near Kralovo Hradec, because there is such a beautiful surface of water, and beautiful pools, and bends, and backwaters lined with the softest silt of the highest grade. Usually it is yellow silt or a little brownish, but if it is red or gray, then it will no longer be as tender as Vaseline ... So, having found a suitable place for themselves, they all sit down and tell each other the news: let's say that in Sukhovershich people covered the shore with a stone, and the local water ... what, you mean, his? .. old Irechek, must move from there; that ribbons and pots have risen in price - it's just a misfortune: to catch someone, you have to buy ribbons for thirty crowns, and a pot costs at least three crowns, and even then with marriage, just give up your craft and take on something else! And then one of the watermen tells that the Yaromezhsky water Faltys ... well, that redhead! .. has already moved into the trade: he is selling mineral water; and the lame Slepanek became a locksmith and repairs water pipes; and many others also changed their profession.

You see, children, a waterman can only be engaged in a craft in which there is something of water: well, for example, he can be a submariner or a guide, or, say, he can write an introductory chapter in books; either to be a ringleader or a tram driver, or to pretend to be a manager or a plant owner - in a word, there must be some kind of water here.

As you can see, there are enough professions for waterbirds, which is why there are fewer and fewer waterbeds, so when they count each other at annual meetings, sad speeches are heard:

"Again, there are five fewer souls of us, guys! So our profession will gradually die out completely."

Y-yes - says old Kreutzmann, Trutnovskiy waterman, - there is no such thing as it was! Oh-ho-ho-ho-ho, many thousands of years have passed since the whole Czech Republic was under water, and a man - or rather, ugh, you water, because then there were no people, the time was not right ... Ah , priests, where did I stop?

On the fact that the whole Czech Republic was under water, - the Gavlovitsky water Zelinka helped him.

Yeah, ”said Kreutzmann. - Then, therefore, the whole Czech Republic was under water, and Zhaltman, and Red Mountain, and Krakorka, and all the other mountains, and our brother could, without drying his feet, walk perfectly under water even from Brno to Prague! Even over Mount Snezhka there was water on the elbow ... Yes, brothers, it was a time!

It was, it was ... - said the ratiborzh water Kulda thoughtfully. - Then we, the mermen, were not such hermits-hermits as we are now. And we had underwater cities built of water bricks, and all the furniture was carved from hard water, feather beds - from soft rain water, and were heated with warm water, and there was no bottom, no shores, no end or end of the water - only water And we.

Yeah, - said Lishka, nicknamed Leshy, a waterman from Zhabokvak swamp.

And what water was then! You could cut it like butter, and sculpt balls from it, and spin threads, and pull wire from it. She was like steel, and like flax, and like glass, and like a feather, thick like sour cream, but strong like an oak, and warmed like a fur coat. Everything, everything was made of water. What is there to interpret, now is this water! - And old Lishka spat so much that a deep pool was formed.

Yes, she was, yes, she swam, ”Kreutzmann said thoughtfully. - The water was good, as if it had recently been, but it was - yes, it swam. And besides, she was completely dumb!

How is it? - Zelinka was surprised, who was younger than the other mermen.

Well, the dumb one, she did not speak at all, ”Lishka-Leshy began to tell. - She had no voice. It was so quiet and dumb, as it happens now when it freezes or when it snows ... And at midnight, nothing moves, and all around it is so quiet, so quiet that it’s just creepy: you stick your head out of the water and listen, but your heart is so and shrinks from this terrible silence. It was so quiet at the time when the water was still dumb.

But what about, - asked Zelinka (he was only seven thousand years old), - how did she then cease to be dumb?

It happened like this, - said Lishka .. - My great-grandfather told me this and said that it was already a good million years ago ... So, there was at that time one water ... What was his name ? Rakosnik not Rakosnik ... Minarjik? Not either ... Gumple? No, not Gampl ... Pavlishek? Also no ... God, God, what was his name?

Arion, ”suggested Kreutzmann.

Arion! - Lishka confirmed. - Here, it was right on the tongue, Arion was his name. And this Arion had, I tell you, such a wonderful gift, such a talent was given to him from God, well, he had such a talent, understand? He knew how to speak and sing so beautifully that your heart was leaping with joy, then crying when he sang - he was such a musician.

Singer, ”Kulda corrected.

A musician or a singer there, - Lishka continued, - but he knew his business, darlings! Great-grandfather said that all the roars roared when he sang. It was with him, with that Arion. there is great pain in my heart. Nobody knows which one. Nobody knows what happened to him. But it must have been a great grief, since he sang so beautifully and so sadly ... And so, when he sang and complained like that under water, every drop of water trembled, as if it were a tear. And in every drop there was something of his song, while this song made its way through the water. Therefore, the water is no longer dumb. She sounds, sings, whispers and babbles, murmurs and gurgles, purrs and rumbles, rustles, rings, murmurs and complains, groans and howls, boils and roars, cries and thunders, sighs, groans and laughs; then it sounds like a silver harp, then it tinkles like a balalaika, then it sings like an organ, then it trumpets like a hunting horn, then it speaks like a person in joy or sorrow. Since that time, water speaks all languages ​​in the world and tells things that no one understands - they are so wonderful and beautiful. And least of all people understand them. But until Arion appeared and taught the water to sing, it was completely dumb, as the sky is dumb now.

But it wasn't Arion who lowered the sky into the water, ”said old Kreutzmann. - It was already later, with my father - eternal memory to him! - and the water Kwakwacoax did it, and all for the sake of love.

How it was? - asked young Zelinka.

It was so. Kwakwakoaks fell in love. He saw Princess Kuakuakunka and blazed with love for her, quack! Cuacuacunca was lovely. Imagine: a golden frog belly, and frog legs, and a frog's mouth from ear to ear, and she was all wet and cold. What a beauty she was! Now there are no such people ...

Well, what could have been? Cuacuacunca was beautiful, but proud. She just pouted and said "quack". Kwakwacoax was completely mad with love. "If you marry me," he told her, "I will give you whatever you want." And then she said to him: "Then give me the blue of heaven, quack!" - And what did Kwakwacoax do? - asked Zelinka.

What was he to do? He sat under the water and complained: "Kva-kva, kva-kva, kva, kva-kva, kva!" And then he decided to take his own life and therefore threw himself out of the water into the air to drown himself in it, quack! No one had thrown himself into the air before - Kwakwacoax was the first.

And what did he do in the air?

Nothing. He looked up, and above him there was a blue sky. He looked down, and under him there was also a blue sky. Kwakwakoaks was terribly surprised. After all, then no one knew that the sky was reflected in the water. And when Kwakwakoaks saw that the heavenly blue was already in the water, he exclaimed "Kwak" in surprise and again threw himself into the water. And then he put Cuacuacunka on his back and emerged with her into the air. Kuakuakunka saw a blue sky in the water and exclaimed with joy: "Kwa-kwa!" Because, it turns out, Kwakwakoaks gave her the blue of heaven.

Nothing. Then they both lived very happily, and they gave birth to many frogs. And from that time on, the aquatic ones sometimes crawl out of the water to see that they also have a sky at home. And when someone leaves his home, whoever he is, he looks back, like Kwakwakoaks, and sees that there, at home, that is, is the real sky. The most real, blue and beautiful sky.

Who proved it?

Kwakwacoax.

Long live Kwakwacoax!

And Cuacuacunca!

At that moment, a man walked by and thought: "What are the frogs croaking at the wrong time?" He picked up a stone and threw it into the swamp.

Something gurgled in the water, plopped; spray flew high, high. And it became quiet: all the mermen dived into the water and now only next year they will gather for their conference.

6 of votes

If you guys think that there are no water ones, then I can tell you that there are, and some more!
For example, even if we, when we were just born, already lived one water in the river Upa, under the dam, and the other in Havlovitsy - you know, there, near the wooden bridge. And one more lived in the Radech brook. He just once came to my father's doctor to pull out a tooth and for this he brought him a basket of silver and pink trout, arranged with nettles so that they would be fresh all the time. Everyone immediately saw that it was a water one: while he was sitting in the dentist's chair, a puddle had flowed under him. And another one was at my grandfather's mill, in Gronov; he kept sixteen horses under the water, near the dam, which is why the engineers said that in this place there are sixteen horse powers in the river. These sixteen white horses kept running and running without stopping, and therefore the millstones were turning all the time. And when our grandfather died one night, the water-maker came, slowly unharnessed all sixteen horses, and the mill did not work for three days. On large rivers there are water-breeders who have even more horses — say fifty or a hundred; but there are also such poor people that they don’t even have a wooden horse.
Of course, a water-breeder, say, in Prague, on the Vltava, lives as a master: he has, perhaps, a motor boat, and in the summer he goes to the sea. Why, in Prague, and at some other swindler-sinner, sometimes the hens do not peck money, and he rolls it in the car - tu-tu! - only dirt flies from under the wheels! And there are also such seedy aquatic ones, who have all the good - a puddle with a palm the size of, and in it a frog, three mosquitoes and two swimming beetles. Others vegetate in such a scanty groove that even a mouse will not soak its abdomen in it. For the third, for a whole year, only income is that a couple of paper boats and a baby diaper, which the mother will miss during the wash ... Yes, this is really poverty! But, for example, there are no less than two hundred thousand carps of the Uratiborz water carp, and in addition tench, carp, crucian carp and, you see, a hefty pike ... What can I say, there is no justice in the world!
In fact, the aquatic people live alone, but once or twice a year, during a flood, they gather from all over the region and arrange, as they say, district conferences. In our region, they always came together during floods in the meadows near Kralovo Hradec, because there is such a beautiful surface of water, and beautiful pools, and bends, and backwaters, lined with the softest silt of the highest grade. Usually it is yellow silt or a little brownish, if it is red or gray, then it will no longer be as tender as Vaseline ... So, having found a suitable place for themselves, they all sit down and tell each other the news: let's say that in Sukhovershich people the shore is a stone, and the local water ... what, you mean, his? .. old Irechek, must move from there; that ribbons and pots have risen in price - it's just a misfortune: to catch someone, you have to buy ribbons for thirty crowns, and a pot costs at least three crowns, and even then with marriage, just give up your craft and take on something else! And then one of the watermen tells that the Yaromezhsky water Faltys ... well, the red one! .. has already gone into the trade: he sells mineral waters; and the lame Slepanek became a locksmith and repairs water pipes; and many others also changed their profession.
You see, kids, a water can only be engaged in a craft in which there is something of water: well, for example, it can be under water driver or about water driver, or, say, can write in books in water chapter; or be for waters silt or waters a tram operator, or pretend to be a hand waters the owner or the owner of the plant - in a word, some water there should be.
As you can see, there are enough professions for waterbirds, which is why there are fewer and fewer waterbeds, so when they count each other at annual meetings, sad speeches are heard:
“Again there are five fewer souls of us, guys! So our profession will gradually die out. "
- Y-yes - says old Kreutzmann, Trutnovsky waterman, - there is no such thing as it was! Oh-ho-ho-ho-ho, many thousands of years have passed since the whole Czech Republic was under water, and a man - or rather, pah you, water, because then there were no people, the time was not right ... Ah, priests , where did I stop?
- On the fact that the whole Czech Republic was under water, - the Gavlovitsky water Zelinka helped him.
“Yeah,” said Kreutzmann. - Then, therefore, the whole Czech Republic was under water, and Zhaltman, and Red Mountain, and Krakorka, and all the other mountains, and our brother could, without drying his feet, walk perfectly under water even from Brno to Prague! Even over the mountain Snezhka water was on the elbow ... Yes, brothers, it was a time!
- It was, it was ... - said the ratiborzhsky water Kulda thoughtfully. - Then we, the mermen, were not such hermits-hermits as we are now. And we had underwater cities built of water bricks, and all the furniture was carved from hard water, feather beds - from soft rain water, and were heated with warm water, and there was no bottom, no shores, no end or end of the water - only water And we.
- Yeah, - said Lishka, nicknamed Leshy, a waterman from Zhabokvak swamp.
- And what water was then! You could cut it like butter, and sculpt balls from it, and spin threads, and pull wire from it. She was like steel, and like flax, and like glass, and like a feather, thick like sour cream, but strong like an oak, and warmed like a fur coat. Everything, everything was made of water. What is there to interpret, now is this water! - And old Lishka spat so much that a deep pool was formed.
“Yes, she was, but she swam,” Kreutzmann said thoughtfully. - The water was good, as if it had recently been, but it was - yes, it swam. And besides, she was completely dumb!
- How is it? - Zelinka was surprised, who was younger than the other mermen.
- Well, dumb, she didn't speak at all, - Lishka-Leshy began to tell. - She had no voice. It was so quiet and dumb, as it happens now when it freezes or when it snows ... And at midnight, nothing moves, and all around it is so quiet, so quiet that it’s just creepy: you stick your head out of the water and listen, but your heart squeezes from this terrible silence. It was so quiet at the time when the water was still dumb.
- And what about, - asked Zelinka (he was only seven thousand years old), - how did she then cease to be dumb?
- It happened like this, - said Lishka .. - My great-grandfather told me this and said that it was already a good million years ago ... So, there was at that time one waterman ... What was his name? Rakosnik not Rakosnik ... Minarjik? Also no ... Gumple? No, not Gumple ... Pavlishek? Also no ... Good heavens, what was his name?
“Arion,” suggested Kreutzmann.
- Arion! - Lishka confirmed. - Here, it was right on the tongue, Arion was his name. And this Arion had, I tell you, such a wonderful gift, such a talent was given to him from God, well, he had such a talent, understand? He knew how to speak and sing so beautifully that your heart was leaping with joy, then crying when he sang - he was such a musician.
“Singer,” Kulda corrected.
“A musician or a singer there,” Lishka continued, “but he knew his business, darlings! Great-grandfather said that all the roars roared when he sang. It was with him, with that Arion. there is great pain in my heart. Nobody knows which one. Nobody knows what happened to him. But it must have been a great grief, since he sang so beautifully and so sadly ... And so, when he sang and complained like that under water, every drop of water trembled, as if it were a tear. And in every drop there was something of his song, while this song made its way through the water. Therefore, the water is no longer dumb. She sounds, sings, whispers and babbles, murmurs and gurgles, purrs and rumbles, rustles, rings, murmurs and complains, groans and howls, boils and roars, cries and thunders, sighs, groans and laughs; then it sounds like a silver harp, then it tinkles like a balalaika, then it sings like an organ, then it trumpets like a hunting horn, then it speaks like a person in joy or sorrow. Since that time, water speaks all languages ​​in the world and tells things that no one understands - they are so wonderful and beautiful. And least of all people understand them. But until Arion appeared and taught the water to sing, it was completely dumb, as the sky is dumb now.
“But it wasn't Arion who lowered the sky into the water,” said old Kreutzmann. - It was already later, with my father - eternal memory to him! - and the water Kwakwacoax did it, and all for the sake of love.
- How it was? - asked young Zelinka.
- It was so. Kwakwakoaks fell in love. He saw Princess Kuakuakunka and blazed with love for her, quack! Cuacuacunca was lovely. Imagine: a golden frog belly, and frog legs, and a frog's mouth from ear to ear, and she was all wet and cold. What a beauty she was! Now there are no such people ...
- And then what? - the water Zelinka asked impatiently.
- Well, what could have been? Cuacuacunca was beautiful, but proud. She just pouted and said "quack." Kwakwacoax was completely mad with love. "If you marry me," he told her, "I will give you everything you want." And then she said to him: "Then give me the blue of heaven, quack!"
- And what did Kwakwacoax do? - asked Zelinka.
- What was he to do? He sat under the water and complained: "Kva-kva, kva-kva, kva, kva-kva, kva!" And then he decided to take his own life and therefore threw himself out of the water into the air to drown himself in it, quack! No one had thrown himself into the air before - Kwakwacoax was the first.
- And what did he do in the air?
- Nothing. He looked up, and above him there was a blue sky. He looked down, and under him there was also a blue sky. Kwakwakoaks was terribly surprised. After all, then no one knew that the sky was reflected in the water. And when Kwakwakoaks saw that the heavenly blue was already in the water, he exclaimed "Kwak" in surprise and again threw himself into the water. And then he put Cuacuacunka on his back and emerged with her into the air. Kuakuakunka saw a blue sky in the water and exclaimed with joy: "Kwa-kwa!" Because, it turns out, Kwakwakoaks gave her the blue of heaven.
- And what happened next?
- Nothing. Then they both lived very happily, and they gave birth to many frogs. And from that time on, the aquatic ones sometimes crawl out of the water to see that they also have a sky at home. And when someone leaves his home, whoever he is, he looks back, like Kwakwakoaks, and sees that there, at home, that is, is the real sky. The most real, blue and beautiful sky.
- Who proved it?
- Kwakwacoax.
- Long live Kwakwakoaks!
- And Kuakuakunka!
At that moment, one person walked by and thought: "What are the frogs croaking at the wrong time?"
He picked up a stone and threw it into the swamp.
Something gurgled in the water, plopped; spray flew high, high. And it became quiet: all the mermen dived into the water and now only next year they will gather for their conference.

I. S. Chernyavskaya

K. Chapek writes his "Nine Tales" for children during the most difficult period for him - a period of doubts about the reasonableness of human progress, reflections on the criteria of good and evil. This is 1932. Czapek's tales to some extent reflect his skepticism towards the generally accepted understanding of good and evil. This is especially clearly expressed in "The Robber's Tale" and "The Tramp's Tale", where the criterion of goodness and honesty is interpreted in a satirical sense. The courteous, kind robber Merzavio is ill-adapted to his craft. On the contrary, he turns into a real robber in the civil service, becoming a tax collector. In The Wandering Tale, the most honest person in the world is the vagrant Frantisek King, who was a black sheep among the so-called "honest" people, who did not even imagine that the lost money could be returned to the owner.
Through the humorous canvas of all Chapek's fairy tales, the ideas of humanism clearly pass, the carriers of which are the most inconspicuous people: a lumberjack, a vagabond, a postman and others - people who surround us in everyday life and do a lot of good deeds as a matter of course.
Czapek's tales are kind, albeit mocking. The author does not transfer the reader to the far-off kingdom, all events take place in specific Czech towns or villages. And even fairy-tale characters - aquatic, wizards - turn out to be completely ordinary creatures, just like people. In a water man, rheumatism is played out in old age, because he has lived all his life in dampness, and the wizard choked on a plum pit - they both need the help of a doctor ("The Big Doctor's Tale"). Conversely, ordinary people perform "magic" the woodcutter heals the princess fresh air, the postman is looking for an unknown girl, the doctor finds the waterman such a job, from which his old bones will not hurt. Such a mixture of fantastic and real images creates a special humorous flavor of fairy tales.
In his notes on children's literature, Chapek wrote: “A fairy tale is, first of all, an action. This means not only that which arises in the narration of the action, but also that the action arises in the narration of the fairy tale. Action is a product of storytelling: as soon as I start to tell, so immediately I have to bring my ideas into an effective connection. "
In his reflections on fairy tales as reading for children, Chapek devotes a special place to language. “When I see young children from four to five years of age and older, I am amazed at their incredible, intense need for language. How they love the word, how happy they find a new word! I think that is why a children's book should be written in the richest, most beautiful language. If a child takes few words from childhood, he will know little of them all his life. This for me is the problem of children's literature - to give children as many words, ideas and develop in them the ability to express their thoughts and feelings. Remember that words are thoughts, they are the entire spiritual foundation. "
Chapek pays special attention to word play, enriching the child's vocabulary. For example, in "The Robber's Tale", describing how old Merzavio paid for his son to the monastery, he lists the names of various coins. In the same place, a woman, scolding young Merzavio, pronounces in alphabetical order all the swear words that she knows: "Oh, you are the Antichrist, ah, a bandit, an atheist, an ugly, bashibuzuk, a thief, a gallows, a burglar, ah, you are a sinner, a thug, a brute ..." In combination with the young Merzavio's appeal to her as a lady, the humorous situation looks especially funny.
Chapek, just as funny, playfully and ironically, reveals to the child the basics of word-creation. Here's how he tells who the water can work as:
“You see, kids, a waterman can only be engaged in a craft in which there is something of water. Well, for example, he can be a sub-waterman, or a conductor, or, say, he can write a water chapter in books, or be a driver, or a tram driver, or pretend to be a driver or a the owner of the plant - in a word, there must be some kind of water here. "
In Czapek's tales, the conventionality of this genre is constantly visible, which he makes the reader feel. The writer often uses grotesque, emphasizing the relative unreality of the fairytale image. So, for example, he draws a robber - the elder Merzavio, who "walked in a bull's skin, covered himself with a horse blanket and ate raw meat directly with his bare hands, as befits all robbers."
It should be noted that these tales are not easy reading for children. Despite their external amusement, they require the reader to work hard in thought, certain skills in the perception of an artistic image.

In 1933, another book by K. Chapek for children was published - "Dasha, or the Story of a Puppy's Life". In a funny story about the puppy Dasha, the author combines a fabulous intonation with a realistic narration. The plug-in stories about the ancestors of the fox terrier, about why dogs live with a person, allegedly told to Dasha, are based on fiction, on a mischievous shape-shifter (when people saw that dogs live in packs, they themselves decided to unite in packs). Like many talented animalist writers, K. Chapek presents the child with real information about the morals and habits of animals, and at the same time he is very original in inventing ways of entertaining conversation with the reader.
The works of K. Chapek for children are perfectly translated by B. Zakhoder, who managed to preserve the charm of the original, to find adequate means of expression in the Russian language.