About the product
The story “The Eccentric from the Sixth “B”” by Zheleznikov was written in 1962. This is a story about the life of an ordinary schoolboy who was lucky to find a calling already in the sixth grade.
The work highlights an important topic - every person should have a favorite thing that gives meaning to life and makes him happy. The story also teaches mercy, philanthropy, and the ability to make friends.
For a reading diary and preparation for a literature lesson, we recommend reading online a summary of “The Oddball from “6-B.” You can test your knowledge using a test on our website.
The material was prepared jointly with a teacher of the highest category, Kuchmina Nadezhda Vladimirovna.
Experience as a teacher of Russian language and literature - 27 years.
Read for free the book The Eccentric from the Sixth "B" - Zheleznikov Vladimir
The eccentric from the sixth "B" Vladimir Karpovich Zheleznikov Vandal, barbarian, Hun! But unlike them, you bear the mark of a civilization of several centuries! Maybe you think it doesn't matter? We'll see…
_From_a_aunt_Oli's_statement_to_my_address._
Vladimir Karpovich ZHELEZNIKOV
FREAKING FROM SIXTH "B"
Tale
_Artist_O._Korovin_
NOTEBOOK WITH PHOTOS
This story began when my father, while leaving on a business trip, instructed me to buy a gift for my mother’s birthday. He left ten rubles, but before leaving, he still asked:
“I hope you won’t let me down?”
I, of course, reassured him in the most decisive way.
If Aunt Olya were next to us, she would definitely say under my arm: “We will not extinguish the spirit of a braggart!”
Am I the braggart?! We'll see…
Yes! You don’t know Aunt Olya. This is our relative and home soothsayer. She is a retired literature teacher, she is already over sixty. By the way, she was a great benefactor: she gave me her room, and she moved to her sister on the other side of Moscow. It turns out that she doesn’t show anything off with her kindness, like others. Well, I gave away the room and gave it away and doesn’t remind me. But boring! Ooh, bore number one.
She raised me from the cradle: they say she forbade me to pee and cry. And it seems that she managed to achieve something, but I think this is a legend that she spread herself. I can’t believe that with my character I would succumb to her. Never!
In general, she got tired, and thank God, because I don’t like being constantly raised. Sometimes I even want to do something good, but I specifically deny myself this so that they don’t think that I succumbed to my upbringing. Although Aunt Olya does this cunningly and unnoticed.
But you can't fool me. I have a trained eye. I learned long ago: the main thing in life is not to give in, otherwise all individuality will perish. And she must be protected.
For example, I don’t collect stamps on principle, because everyone in our class collects them; I study poorly, because everyone here studies well. I once made a joke in history that I learned a lesson, but I won’t answer. True, for this I was kicked out of the class and given a grade one, and my father called me a dunce and shouted that I understood the meaning of the word “individuality” topsy-turvy.
Heh heh heh, if only Aunt Olya had heard the word “got tired”! I wish I could make a fuss: “What are you doing with the great Russian language? This is the shrine of shrines! Pushkin himself spoke it!”
But let's leave Aunt Olya alone.
So, mind you, the very next day after my father left, I got ready to go for a gift. I don't like to put off important things.
As soon as I went outside, I met my best friend Sashka Smolin.
- Where are you going? - asked Sashka.
“Nowhere,” I answered. - And you?
“And I’m going nowhere,” said Sashka.
“And I,” I said, “have ten rubles,” I pulled out my father’s ten and crunched it in front of Sasha’s nose.
- Just think! - said Sashka.
- Yes, these are my own! - I was indignant.
- Lie, don’t lie. How can you prove it?
I should have stopped and not proved anything, but I wanted to finish off Sasha, and I casually said:
- Let's go to the cinema.
And exchanged my father's ten.
A few days later there was a long-distance telephone call. Of course, it was my father who called. He is a restless type: as soon as he leaves, he immediately starts calling almost every day. When he found out that his mother was not at home, he began to ask about the gift. I said that I had already gone somewhere and seen something.
- And where to? - he asked meticulously.
I answered:
- Naturally, to the store.
- Which one?
- “Everything for women.”
“I don’t know such a store,” the father said incredulously. - Aren’t you lying?
- I? What are you doing?!
And I liked the title “Everything for Women.” I think it's wonderful. And he’s so rude: “You’re not lying?” No wonder Aunt Olya said about him that distrust prevented him from enjoying life.
-Where is it? - he continued the interrogation.
- On Vesnina Street. As you turn, immediately on the left hand.
“There’s been a kerosene shop there all my life!” - Dad yelled.
“It was demolished,” I answered bravely. — And they built a new store.
Well, then in the same spirit. I told him what this store looks like and what they sell there, and the prices, the prices - where are our top ten! Then for some reason my dad sighed heavily and hung up.
It's a pity! I would have told him a lot more, but they wouldn’t let me fully describe the delights of the “Everything for Women” store.
By the way, I later went to this Vesnina street. Dad was right: there was a hardware store there, and it caused me great disappointment.
Just in case, I went into the shop and... for some reason I bought a tube of blue paint and a brush. I wouldn’t have bought it, but there was no one in the store, and the seller, a dry, malicious old man, grabbed me with the grip of a bulldog and forced me.
I think he worked in this shop even before the revolution, and at that time, as you know, there was competition, so he learned to sell. And without habit, I was confused: for no reason at all, I snatched another ruble from my father’s ten.
To somehow calm down, I decided to put paint to work. Came home and painted my bed blue. It turned out beautiful. The bed is old and peeling. True, when I finished painting, I was overcome by a slight doubt that my mother might not like my work. She could well find fault with the fact that there are no blue beds. Why, tell me, why can’t there be a blue bed?
We met my mother in the evening. No, she didn’t scold me, she just gave me a good slap on the head.
I don’t know why such forgotten medieval methods of influence should be used in our time. You can think of something worse. For example, do not call to the phone when Sashka calls, or turn off the TV in the most interesting place.
Mom’s hand is heavy, she is a physical education teacher, a gymnast, and after her slaps on the head my head buzzes for two hours. I checked by the hour. It’s like after attending an air parade: you’re already home, and there’s silence, and the planes aren’t flying, but there’s a buzz in your head.
Then, fortunately, the phone rang.
Mom picked up the phone. It was Aunt Olya who called.
- Come and admire what your pet has done! - Mom screamed. — He painted the bed blue. Maybe now you will say that he has a craving for painting! “Don’t limit the boy’s imagination (she repeated Aunt Olya’s words, imitating her), give him space.”
Mom hung up and looked at me. She was really upset. It's crazy, because of some bed she was ready to cry.
- Why are you? - I said. - Because of the bed...
“No,” she answered, “because of you.” You're growing up to be a fool.
“I will definitely improve,” I said. - Honestly. You will see.
Mom waved her hand hopelessly.
This hopelessness made me very sad. I thought about it for almost the whole day, but then I forgot. Moscow bustle!
*
Once Sasha and I dragged ourselves to school with all our strength. And suddenly an unfamiliar girl caught up with us.
She smiled at us as if we were old acquaintances and said:
- Hello, boys. Don't you recognize it? I'm Nastya Monakhova.
But I really didn’t recognize her, and Sashka didn’t recognize her either. She studied with us until the fourth grade, and then left for a year. I looked at her carefully. She was Nastya Monakhova, but somehow new.
And just before that we decided to skip the first two lessons and decided that we would lie, saying that a lonely old lady felt ill on the street and we had to take her home. We even wrote a note on behalf of this lonely old woman and, so that our handwriting would not be recognized, we wrote in two hands: the letter - I, the letter - Sashka.
I came up with all this because such an incident happened in my life, but it happened not on a weekday, but on Sunday, and I was not able to take advantage of it.
True, this old woman lived in our house, her name was Polina Kharitonyevna Veselova, but we did not know her before. And on the day when I saved her from almost certain death, she came to us with a cake for tea and spent a long time explaining to my mother what a wonderful boy I was. Well, now we wrote a note in her words, the ones she told my mother about me.
I looked carefully at Nastya Monakhova again and guessed what struck me about her: from a small fry, a dirty little thing, she turned into a real beauty. This is what happens to people when they are away for a long time!
And then for some reason I didn’t want to skip classes. And Sashka, apparently, too, because he walked next to the beautiful Monakhova and kept silent.
— Are you, Sasha, still studying at music school? - Nastya asked.
“He’s our famous flutist,” I answered for Sasha.
“Well done,” said Nastya. - And you, Borya, what are your hobbies?
- I? Nothing at all.
- Well, that’s not witty. Nowadays, don’t get carried away with anything!..
- Another teacher for my poor head! - I said.
“Sorry,” she replied quietly. “I didn’t intend to raise you.” I just said what I thought. I felt sorry for you.
That's how she nailed me. And while I was about to answer her, we had already entered the class, and all the guys curiously pounced on Nastya and pushed Sashka and me aside.
We sat down at our desks, but for some reason we both didn’t take our eyes off Monakhova.
She simply bewitched us. “But we’ll see, we’ll fight, I ran into the wrong ones,” I thought and immediately did the opposite.
The fact is that on that day I was appointed as a counselor in first grade “A”. This was reported by Kolobok, that is, our senior counselor Nina, who was nicknamed Kolobok because she is fat and always chews something. And imagine, I agreed. It was because of her, because of Nastya.
That's how it was. That means Nina flies into the classroom, finishing her pie as she goes. She is so enthusiastic and enthusiastic and always speaks solemnly, as if she were speaking in front of a crowd.
Once, when I was in the third grade, she clung to me, and not just anywhere, but on the street, and raised me for forty minutes.
At this time Sashka stood aside and ate ice cream. He had to eat three servings while waiting.
To get rid of it, I started hiccupping. This is a very good, proven method. She gives you a word, and you respond with “hic.” She told me to stop. And I responded with “hic” again. And then Nina found out that this was my way of getting off when being raised, and she disliked me. And now when she told me: “And I am after your soul, Zbanduto,” everything inside me went cold from a premonition of trouble.
- What is this suddenly? - I was surprised. “It seems like nothing has happened yet.”
- It happened. — Nina smiled mysteriously and enigmatically.
Nastya turned in our direction: this was an important moment.
“Interesting,” Sashka quickly entered the game.
- Guys, a moment of attention! - said Nina. — First of all, congratulations on the new school year!
- Hooray! - someone shouted in a thin voice.
I took advantage of the fact that Nina turned away, winked at Nastya and slid under the desk.
“And secondly...” Nina said in a solemn voice.
After this there was silence. Apparently, Nina turned her face to our desk, but I was not there, but I was there! He sat and giggled.
-Where is Zbanduto? - asked Nina.
“I don’t know,” answered Sashka. - I was just here.
At that moment I was attacked by a sneeze. I covered my nose with my hand, wrinkled my face and sneezed to myself, but miscalculated and cracked my head on the desk. The buzz spread throughout the class. It was clear that now I would be discovered.
And indeed, I saw that Nina was climbing under the desk. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back on the bench.
- What's wrong with you, Zbanduto? - Nina asked sympathetically.
“He fell asleep,” said Sashka. - It's stuffy here. I got used to the school environment over the summer.
“Water,” Nina ordered.
I heard someone helpfully run for water and come back. Then this someone raised my head and impudently poured half a carafe of water down my collar.
Then I jumped up. Well, of course, Sashka stood in front of me. He had a decanter of water in his hands. He was very pleased because he caused everyone to have fun. Even Nastya laughed. I think he humiliated me for her sake. I wouldn't do that if I were him.
- Well, how are you feeling? - Nina asked sympathetically. - Better?
“Nothing,” I said. - But why pour water down the collar? Couldn't you just spray it in the face?
“Okay,” said Nina, “next time.”
She mocked me.
“And now, guys, I’ll tell you the news,” Nina began solemnly again. — The squad council appointed one of you as a counselor in first grade “A.” “She turned to me and announced: “Boris Zbanduto.”
And then for some reason an unimaginable noise arose. Everyone started laughing, and most of all, my friend Sashka. Everyone made jokes as best they could, deliberately misinterpreting my last name.
- Donato! Ha ha ha! - Sashka shouted. - He will teach them how to get bad marks.
- Bandito! The trees in the school yard were crying!
- It's too inflated! Teach them how to hit girls!
- Break the windows!..
- Play smasher!..
All the guys laughed, and I didn’t lag behind them either. Indeed, what a counselor I am!
- Well, that's enough. We laughed - that's enough! - Nina said seriously. — Do you agree, Zbanduto?
“No,” I answered. - I have professional unfitness. I'm stuttering... stuttering... stuttering out of excitement.
The guys laughed again.
“Then you hiccup,” said Nina, “then you stutter.” Enough of fooling around. Tell me, do you agree or not?
- What will I do with them? - I asked.
“You’ll prepare it in October,” Nina answered.
- You will sit them on pots and wipe their noses! - Sashka shouted and looked at Nastya’s back.
He clearly wanted to please her. And then she looked back and said the very words that pulled me into this story. Then it turned out that she was just joking.
- What's funny here? - she said. - This is a serious matter.
For a second our eyes met, and suddenly, to my great surprise, I heard my own voice say:
- I agree.
- Unhappy Naduvato, I feel sorry for you! - Sashka was writhing with laughter.
- Maybe you should shut up? - I asked. - A?
“Well, that’s good, Zbanduto,” said Nina. - We know your weaknesses, but we trust you. And you must justify this trust.
“You can rely on me,” I answered loudly and looked around the silent class triumphantly.
Other characters
- Bori's parents are kind people who dream of seeing a decent person in their son.
- Sasha Smolin is Bori’s best friend, his like-minded person in many life issues.
- Nastya Monakhova is Bori and Sasha’s classmate, with whom they both fell in love.
- Nina (Kolobok) is the senior counselor, a responsible, proper high school student.
- Natasha Morozova is a first-grader, a very honest, principled, inquisitive girl.
And we also have:
for the most impatient -
A very brief summary of “The eccentric from the sixth “B””
Reviews of the book “The eccentric from the sixth “B”” by Vladimir Zheleznikov
You bear the mark of several centuries of civilization! I will probably never stop praising Soviet literature, especially children's literature, which is thought out to the core. So I just want to praise the eccentric Zhelyaznikov) For example, for such a cunning device at the very beginning of the book for all those who rebel, go against the system, but not far, not further than the essay and the teacher who accepts it. And all those who are free individuals and want to cut their braids like everyone else, because they are individuals. “In general, she got tired, and thank God, because I don’t like being constantly raised. Sometimes I even want to do something good, but I specifically deny myself this so that they don’t think that I succumbed to my upbringing. Although Aunt Olya does this cunningly and unnoticed. <…> I learned a long time ago: the main thing in life is not to give in, otherwise all individuality will perish. And she must be protected. For example, I don’t collect stamps on principle, because everyone in our class collects them; I study poorly, because everyone here studies well. I once made a joke in history that I learned a lesson, but I won’t answer. True, for this they kicked me out of class and gave me a grade, and my father called me a dunce and shouted that I understood the meaning of the word “individuality” topsy-turvy.” And this is what “free individuals” get caught up in, thinking that they are reading about someone like them. I really don’t understand how it doesn’t hurt them later to look at how the author shows them, how they aren’t ashamed of themselves. After all, at the beginning our hero appears as a very ugly person and only then gradually corrects himself, becoming a Man. But it was he who became a Man, and they remained “individuals” and remained so. The power of Soviet stories lies in the fact that the hero turns into a Man. It even shows how this happens. Step by step, with example, awareness, decision making. And it’s even somehow nice that this is all for a reason, but on the scientific basis of pedagogy. That when there is such a “vandal, barbarian, Hun!”, then he needs responsibility and all his eccentricities will finally go in the right direction. He has the rudiments of intelligence, so he just had to turn his brain in the right direction. When you don’t just read a book, but actually read it, you see that little Natasha, with eyes like nickels, like balloons, like a huge blue sea, acts as the boy’s conscience. It is she who is both difficult to deceive and impossible to deceive. And, alas, it is also impossible to agree. Thanks to this girl, our hero finally begins not just to look at life, but to analyze it. To understand what kind of guys are next to him, how hurt they are, how scared they are, how ashamed. And these are not necessarily first-graders, these are his classmates and older people. And through this he looks at himself. Yes, he will not become strict, he will remain an eccentric, but you can already see what an amazing, sensitive eccentric he will become) “I began to look at them, and under my gaze they stopped pushing each other - they sat without moving. How funny their faces were! No, really. Try it someday, take a closer look at the first-graders. These are very special people. You can look at their faces endlessly. They are always alive: what’s in the heart is on the face. <…> They undressed, gathered in a flock around me and trembled. They are cold and unusual. They are funny: thin, thin, long legs, matchsticks. How they walk on them is unclear. I smiled at the coach (even then I didn’t know that he was such a beast) and winked: look, they say, how funny the children are, real ostriches. <…> And Nastya, as if from a blow to the back, pulled her head into her shoulders, and her thin shoulder blades stuck out like folded wings.” There are many strong moments in the book. I want to highlight and analyze every moment. But this is like quoting an entire book and dissecting every sentence. There are no unnecessary words here, everything here is aimed at showing “free individuals” how they live and how it would be worth living if they were free. Here are tips for parents to remember to look at their children as individuals and still guide them on the right path. After all, we all want to see a Man next to us, and not a free-swimming fish. My result is the most common - read Soviet children's books. Read the sentences carefully, try to understand why the author wrote this, and the wonderful world of yourself will open up to you. Because the work of these writers is aimed specifically at you.
Summary
Before leaving on a business trip, his father instructed Bora to “buy a gift for mom for her birthday.” The boy took ten rubles, assuring his father that he would not let him down.
Borya was very principled, and by his age he had learned the truth: “... the main thing in life is not to give in, otherwise all individuality will perish.” He didn’t even specifically collect stamps, since everyone in the class collected them. For the same reason, Borya studied poorly: their class consisted entirely of excellent and good students.
Borya did not like to “put important things on the back burner,” and the very next day he went to buy a gift for his mother. On the street he met his best friend Sashka Smolin, to whom he proudly showed a crisp ten. To raise his authority, Borya said that this was his own money, which he could spend at his own discretion. He decided to exchange it and buy two movie tickets.
One day, on the way to school, Borya and Sashka met their former classmate, Nastya Monakhova, who studied with them until the fourth grade. During her absence, Nastya noticeably became prettier, and she literally “bewitched” her friends.
Arriving at school, Borya unexpectedly learned that he had been appointed first grade counselor. He was informed about this by “the senior counselor Nina, who was nicknamed Kolobok” - a fat girl who was always chewing something. Borya agreed to become a counselor, but only in order to impress Nastya.
Borya became inspired and began to imagine how wonderfully he would prepare his first-graders. For example, they can switch to “accelerated learning: three classes per year,” or organize “studies for them while they sleep.” He began to compose a speech for the first-graders, but then Sashka appeared and the friends went for a walk.
A few days later, when Borya had already forgotten that he had been appointed a counselor, two little girls appeared in his class. The “1A” students reminded Bora that the whole class had been waiting for him for a week. After lessons, he went to his mentees, who at first looked at him “with silent admiration, like a hippopotamus in a zoo,” and even wrote on the board in large letters “BORE HURRAY!”
It was difficult for Bora to immediately remember who’s name was. He invited the kids to go to “automatic photography” so that everyone would take a photo and sign their photo. After a while, he even became friends with Natasha Morozova, whose mother died and whose father disappeared on business trips in Africa. But it was difficult for Bora to admit to Sashka that he had become attached to the “smacker.”
Soon the first-graders overpowered Borya so much that he came to school with a prepared letter of resignation “from the high post of counselor.” The other day he had a wonderful time with Nastya, spending another ruble from his “mother’s” ten. She once said, “that there is no more boring activity in the world than messing around with first-graders,” and Borya decided to quit with “1B.” But, on reflection, he realized how much he had become attached to the children, and changed his mind.
Quite unexpectedly for himself, Borya learned from Nina that he was going to be removed from his post for the reason that he allegedly had a “bad influence on children.” The boy tried in every possible way to make the children better, but some parents did not approve of his methods and complained to the director.
When Borya was called into the director's office, he was surprised to find Natasha Morozova there. The girl, on behalf of the entire class, bravely stood up for her counselor, telling the director about all his merits. So Borya remained the 1A class counselor.
One day Borya decided to take the kids to the circus, and only two of them could not go to the show - Zina, who was swimming, and Gena, who was forced to help his mother clear the streets of snow and ice. The guys didn’t want to go to the circus without their classmate, and then Borya offered to help Genka get the job done quickly, which would allow everyone to go to the show together. The children, many of whom were at the circus for the first time, had great fun. It was further strengthened by a portion of ice cream, bought by Borya with his last “mother’s” money.
One day Borya “was put on guard for first-graders at a test.” Noticing that all his students were making the same annoying mistake, he wrote the correct answers on a piece of paper and turned away. As a result, the entire class, with the exception of honest Natasha Morozova, received A's and B's.
And finally my mother’s birthday came. Borya, who did not have a gift, pretended to have forgotten about this important event. Mom quietly left the house, and Borya realized how upset she was, because her closest people did not congratulate her, “as if she lived not in a family, but on a desert island.” The father called, who was only five minutes late and did not have time to congratulate his beloved woman personally. Borya was forced to admit to his father that he never bought the gift. Not knowing what to say in his defense, he replied that he “ate it for ice cream.”
In a depressed mood, Borya went to school, where he learned about the quarrel between Nastya and Sasha. Sashka never had time to make peace with her, because “her father unexpectedly arrived and took her with him” to the Far East. Deciding to improve and dot all the i’s, Borya admitted at school that he allowed first-graders to cheat on the test. He also called his mother at work and wished her a happy birthday. Borya made peace with Sashka and invited him to his home, “for a birthday cake.” Feeling that he could live the life he liked, Borya felt truly happy.
The eccentric from the sixth "B"
VITALY BIANCHI
SUMMER
FIRST TELEGRAM FROM THE FOREST
Summer has come. It's time to hatch the chicks. Everyone built a house for themselves in the forest. The entire forest from top to bottom is now occupied by housing. There was no free place left anywhere. They live on the ground, underground, on the water, under the water, on the trees, in the trees, in the air and in the air.
FOREST ACCIDENTS
WHO HAS THE BEST HOUSE?
The guys decided to find the best house. It turned out that it is not so easy to decide which house is better than all the others. The largest nest is the eagle's. It is made of thick branches and is placed on a huge thick pine tree. The smallest nest is that of the yellow-headed kinglet. His whole house is as big as a fist, and he himself is smaller than a dragonfly. The most cunning house is the mole's. He has so many emergency passages and exits that there is no way to cover him in his underground hole. The most skillful house is that of the leaf-rolling elephant - a small bug with a proboscis. The elephant gnawed the veins of birch leaves and, when the leaves began to wither, rolled them into a tube and glued them together with his saliva. The female elephant laid her testicles into this tube house. The simplest nests are found in the Ringed Sandpiper and Night Owl. The tie-jawed man laid his four eggs right in the sand on the bank of the river, and the nightjar - in a hole in the dry leaves under a tree. They both didn't put much effort into building the house. The most beautiful house is that of the Mocking Warbler. She made herself a nest on a birch branch, covered it with lichen and light birch peel, and wove in pieces of multi-colored paper that were lying in the garden of some dacha for decoration. The coziest nest is that of the long-tailed tit. This bird is also called polovnik, because it looks like a pouring spoon - a polovnik. Her nest is made from fluff, feathers and hairs on the inside, and from moss and pine cones on the outside. It's all round, like a little bottle, and the entrance to it is round, small, in the very middle of the nest. The most comfortable houses are those of caddisfly larvae. Caddisflies are winged insects. When they sit down, they fold their wings into a roof on their back and cover their entire body with them. And caddisfly larvae are wingless, naked, they have nothing to cover themselves with. They live at the bottom of streams and rivers. The larva will find a twig or reed the size of a match, glue a tube of sand grains onto them and climb into it backwards and backwards. It turns out very convenient: if you want, you can completely hide in a tube and sleep peacefully there, no one will see you; If you want, stick out your front legs and crawl along the bottom along with the house: the house is light. And one caddisfly found a thin piper lying on the bottom, climbed into it and continued to travel in it. The most amazing home is that of the silverback water spider. This spider stretched a web underwater between the algae, and brought air bubbles under the web on its shaggy abdomen. This is how a spider lives in a house made of thin air.
