Summary of a fairy tale in an old attic. Other books on similar topics
In an old attic, fifth-grader Sashka Kukushkin accidentally finds an ancient Magic Encyclopedia, from which he learns easy way avoid trouble. If, for example, you received a “D” in mathematics, read a magic spell and find a person who will believe that in your diary you have not a “D”, but a “Five”. And your lie will become true, everyone will believe in it, even the teacher who gave him a bad grade. And it would seem that a happy time for Sashka Kukushkin begins. Whatever he lies comes true. Fortunately, there is always a small, recklessly trusting Lelka nearby, for whom Sashka is an unconditional authority. The only problem is: even a small and harmless, at first glance, lie drags behind it a long chain of unforeseen and often terrible events. From one heatedly thrown phrase, a word thoughtlessly escaping the tongue, a special strange and extremely uncomfortable world is formed, where monkeys and bears settle in a city apartment, where rivers suddenly and catastrophically become shallow, and any attempt to correct the situation leads to even more terrible consequences: a breakthrough dam, shutdown of water supply and power plants, paralysis of urban transport, fire...
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It's rubbish! We must decide!
But for some reason what Sashka had in mind could not be done at home. You can't, that's all. Sashka himself didn’t even know why.
And then, as if some wind had blown him into the dark entrance of Katka’s house. This was probably the most an old house in their city. Only the church on the other side of the river, opposite the stadium, was probably even older.
Sashka tried to position himself next to the high dusty window, where a fly was kicking and buzzing sadly in the web.
But some people were constantly walking along the old Katka stairs to no avail. Some are up, others are down. And already two old women looked at Sashka suspiciously. Then they looked at each other with a knowing look and both shook their heads.
No, this was not the right place. Sashka was afraid: as soon as he opened his briefcase, a long nose would come out from behind his shoulder: “What are you doing here, boy, huh?”
Sashka began to climb up the stairs. But there were people everywhere outside the doors.
They laughed, talked, hammered something together.
Involuntarily standing on tiptoes, Sashka carefully walked past the door on which the sign hung.
“Dentist Petrova. Treatment and removal of teeth without pain."
An unpleasant chill ran down my spine.
From behind the door, covered with thick black oilcloth, Sashka heard the vile grinding of a drill and someone's groan.
“And it doesn’t hurt at all,” Dr. Petrova rasped.
Sashka climbed to the very top.
There was only one door, clogged with rough, rough boards. Sashka tore off the board, which was held on by a rusty nail, and crawled sideways into the attic.
The attic was dark. The light barely passed through semicircular window, similar to a cat's eye.
Some kind of rubbish was crawling out of the darkness everywhere. The dust and cobwebs made everything seem shaggy and shaggy.
A bicycle with one wheel hugged the handlebars of a broken chair. An extinct mirror was attached to its side.
Deep under the boards something glittered faintly. Something round metal. Sashka craned his neck with all his might. You can’t tell: it’s either a samovar or a knight’s helmet.
Sashka carefully extended his hands into the darkness and touched the dusty boards. The cobwebs silently tore under my fingers. Someone small, who had a lot of legs, ran up Sashka’s arm right into her sleeve. Sashka shook his sleeve furiously.
Yes... This attic is not easy! Why be surprised? In Katya’s house, the attic should be different from others.
It would be nice to rummage around here. But not now. There's no time for that now.
Sashka sat down on a box by the window. Or rather, it was not a box, but some kind of old, flimsy chest. He creaked piercingly, and the whole thing moved under Sashka, as if alive, when he sat down on him.
With a sigh that sounded like a groan, Sashka pulled out a diary from his briefcase and opened it.
My heart sank sadly.
Here she is, damned. Two. It's worth it, it's so cute. Such a squiggle, but it ruins a person’s whole life.
But before that everything was just fine. There were only Friday and Saturday left until Sashka's birthday. You just had to live through them somehow, endure them, and that’s all. Well, maybe sleep more so that time passes quickly.
And on Sunday, dad promised to take the entire Sashkin fifth “A” on his boat “Stepan Razin”. Dad was a captain there.
And Sashka imagined a million times how he was standing on the bow of the boat next to Katya. The ice has recently melted. It could still rain or even snow.
He will wait until Katya is thoroughly frozen, quivers like a sheep's tail, and her famous bangs get wet.
Then he will take off and give her everything: the scarf, the coat, and the hat. And Katya will look at him with her bright, adult eyes.
Or maybe it will be possible to save her. Suddenly she gets lucky and falls overboard. As a last resort, give her a kick somehow unnoticed. Borka will start screaming and come up with something clever. But Sashka doesn’t, he won’t think. Once overboard, he will save you. And when he saves her, no one will care how she ended up there.
But now everything has burst. Because dad was just some kind of crazy with this math.
No, it’s not for nothing that they say that Monday is the most miserable day. The test was just on Monday. And here you go - a deuce.
Sashka swallowed the prickly saliva. He resolutely pulled out an eraser from his pencil case, rubbed the dirty corner on his trouser leg, holding his breath in his chest, and carefully began to erase the deuce.
It had to be washed very carefully. The paper was coming off in sheets.
Sashka shifted on the chest to sit more comfortably, but suddenly something grunted under him, crunched, broke, and Sashka fell down, right into the chest, so that his knees were higher than his head. A sharp sliver hit my side. And on the left there was another nail. He passed through his pants and entered Sasha a little.
Sashka glanced at the diary and sucked in a breath with a hiss. In place of the deuce there was a black hole.
He floundered furiously and senselessly, trying to get out of the chest.
I ruined everything myself! You can’t show such a diary to your dad at all. From this hole, anyone can immediately guess everything.
Finally, Sashka struggled to his feet. Unable to bear it, he angrily kicked the chest with all his might. The dry, ringing boards fell apart and scattered to the sides.
It was then that Sashka saw everything.
At the bottom of the chest, in a pile, one on top of the other, lay some amazing books.
The books were not simple. Sashka understood this immediately. You probably won’t find these in any library. Maybe only in a museum.
The books were old, even quite ancient. With clasps made of copper, and maybe even gold. And they're fat! One book is like dad's briefcase.
With both hands, Sashka hardly lifted the top book. How heavy! And the dust on it...
Sashka spat on the cover and rubbed it with his sleeve.
Deep golden letters glittered on the old dark skin. Sashka read:
"THE COMPLETE MAGIC ENCYCLOPEDIA" Oker-poker, Dominoker,
Spin-span, Muskidan.
This “oker-poker” suddenly somehow sharply upset Sashka. He somehow ruined everything. Because of him, everything immediately became somehow stupid and frivolous. Is it really supposed to be like this if everything is real and magical?
"Note I. O liar! Your lies will only become true if they believe you. If they don’t believe you, your lies will remain just lies.
Note II. Oh, unfortunate one! If you, bending under the weight of lies, want everything to be again as before, then...”
Next, almost nothing could be made out. The bottom of the page was full of holes and stains. It was as if mice were chewing on the book. Moreover, one of the wizards read it during lunch and turned the pages with greasy fingers.
It's rubbish! We must decide!
But for some reason what Sashka had in mind could not be done at home. You can't, that's all. Sashka himself didn’t even know why.
And then, as if some wind had blown him into the dark entrance of Katka’s house. It was probably the oldest house in their city. Only the church on the other side of the river, opposite the stadium, was probably even older.
Sashka tried to position himself next to the high dusty window, where a fly was kicking and buzzing sadly in the web.
But some people were constantly walking along the old Katka stairs to no avail. Some are up, others are down. And already two old women looked at Sashka suspiciously. Then they looked at each other with a knowing look and both shook their heads.
No, this was not the right place. Sashka was afraid: as soon as he opened his briefcase, a long nose would come out from behind his shoulder: “What are you doing here, boy, huh?”
Sashka began to climb up the stairs. But there were people everywhere outside the doors.
They laughed, talked, hammered something together.
Involuntarily standing on tiptoes, Sashka carefully walked past the door on which the sign hung.
“Dentist Petrova. Treatment and removal of teeth without pain."
An unpleasant chill ran down my spine.
From behind the door, covered with thick black oilcloth, Sashka heard the vile grinding of a drill and someone's groan.
“And it doesn’t hurt at all,” Dr. Petrova rasped.
Sashka climbed to the very top.
There was only one door, clogged with rough, rough boards. Sashka tore off the board, which was held on by a rusty nail, and crawled sideways into the attic.
The attic was dark. The light barely passed through a semicircular window that looked like a cat's eye.
Some kind of rubbish was crawling out of the darkness everywhere. The dust and cobwebs made everything seem shaggy and shaggy.
A bicycle with one wheel hugged the handlebars of a broken chair. An extinct mirror was attached to its side.
Deep under the boards something glittered faintly. Something round metal. Sashka craned his neck with all his might. You can’t tell: it’s either a samovar or a knight’s helmet.
Sashka carefully extended his hands into the darkness and touched the dusty boards. The cobwebs silently tore under my fingers. Someone small, who had a lot of legs, ran up Sashka’s arm right into her sleeve. Sashka shook his sleeve furiously.
Yes... This attic is not easy! Why be surprised? In Katya’s house, the attic should be different from others.
It would be nice to rummage around here. But not now. There's no time for that now.
Sashka sat down on a box by the window. Or rather, it was not a box, but some kind of old, flimsy chest. He creaked piercingly, and the whole thing moved under Sashka, as if alive, when he sat down on him.
With a sigh that sounded like a groan, Sashka pulled out a diary from his briefcase and opened it.
My heart sank sadly.
Here she is, damned. Two. It's worth it, it's so cute. Such a squiggle, but it ruins a person’s whole life.
But before that everything was just fine. There were only Friday and Saturday left until Sashka's birthday. You just had to live through them somehow, endure them, and that’s all. Well, maybe sleep more so that time passes quickly.
And on Sunday, dad promised to take the entire Sashkin fifth “A” on his boat “Stepan Razin”. Dad was a captain there.
And Sashka imagined a million times how he was standing on the bow of the boat next to Katya. The ice has recently melted. It could still rain or even snow.
He will wait until Katya is thoroughly frozen, quivers like a sheep's tail, and her famous bangs get wet.
Then he will take off and give her everything: the scarf, the coat, and the hat. And Katya will look at him with her bright, adult eyes.
Or maybe it will be possible to save her. Suddenly she gets lucky and falls overboard. As a last resort, give her a kick somehow unnoticed. Borka will start screaming and come up with something clever. But Sashka doesn’t, he won’t think. Once overboard, he will save you. And when he saves her, no one will care how she ended up there.
But now everything has burst. Because dad was just some kind of crazy with this math.
No, it’s not for nothing that they say that Monday is the most miserable day. The test was just on Monday. And here you go - a deuce.
Sashka swallowed the prickly saliva. He resolutely pulled out an eraser from his pencil case, rubbed the dirty corner on his trouser leg, holding his breath in his chest, and carefully began to erase the deuce.
It had to be washed very carefully. The paper was coming off in sheets.
Sashka shifted on the chest to sit more comfortably, but suddenly something grunted under him, crunched, broke, and Sashka fell down, right into the chest, so that his knees were higher than his head. A sharp sliver hit my side. And on the left there was another nail. He passed through his pants and entered Sasha a little.
Sashka glanced at the diary and sucked in a breath with a hiss. In place of the deuce there was a black hole.
He floundered furiously and senselessly, trying to get out of the chest.
I ruined everything myself! You can’t show such a diary to your dad at all. From this hole, anyone can immediately guess everything.
Finally, Sashka struggled to his feet. Unable to bear it, he angrily kicked the chest with all his might. The dry, ringing boards fell apart and scattered to the sides.
It was then that Sashka saw everything.
At the bottom of the chest, in a pile, one on top of the other, lay some amazing books.
The books were not simple. Sashka understood this immediately. You probably won’t find these in any library. Maybe only in a museum.
The books were old, even quite ancient. With clasps made of copper, and maybe even gold. And they're fat! One book is like dad's briefcase.
With both hands, Sashka hardly lifted the top book. How heavy! And the dust on it...
Sashka spat on the cover and rubbed it with his sleeve.
Deep golden letters glittered on the old dark skin. Sashka read:
"THE COMPLETE MAGIC ENCYCLOPEDIA" Oker-poker, Dominoker,
Spin-span, Muskidan.
This “oker-poker” suddenly somehow sharply upset Sashka. He somehow ruined everything. Because of him, everything immediately became somehow stupid and frivolous. Is it really supposed to be like this if everything is real and magical?
"Note I. O liar! Your lies will only become true if they believe you. If they don’t believe you, your lies will remain just lies.
Note II. Oh, unfortunate one! If you, bending under the weight of lies, want everything to be again as before, then...”
Next, almost nothing could be made out. The bottom of the page was full of holes and stains. It was as if mice were chewing on the book. Moreover, one of the wizards read it during lunch and turned the pages with greasy fingers.
IN THE OLD ATTIC
Chapter 1
CHEST
It's rubbish! We must decide!
But for some reason what Sashka had in mind could not be done at home. You can't, that's all. Sashka himself didn’t even know why.
And then, as if some wind had blown him into the dark entrance of Katka’s house. It was probably the oldest house in their city. Only the church on the other side of the river, opposite the stadium, was probably even older.
Sashka tried to position himself next to the high dusty window, where a fly was kicking and buzzing sadly in the web.
But some people were constantly walking along the old Katka stairs to no avail. Some are up, others are down. And already two old women looked at Sashka suspiciously. Then they looked at each other with a knowing look and both shook their heads.
No, this was not the right place. Sashka was afraid: as soon as he opened his briefcase, a long nose would come out from behind his shoulder: “What are you doing here, boy, huh?”
Sashka began to climb up the stairs. But there were people everywhere outside the doors.
They laughed, talked, hammered something together.
Involuntarily standing on tiptoes, Sashka carefully walked past the door on which the sign hung.
“Dentist Petrova. Treatment and removal of teeth without pain."
An unpleasant chill ran down my spine.
From behind the door, covered with thick black oilcloth, Sashka heard the vile grinding of a drill and someone's groan.
“And it doesn’t hurt at all,” Dr. Petrova rasped.
Sashka climbed to the very top.
There was only one door, clogged with rough, rough boards. Sashka tore off the board, which was held on by a rusty nail, and crawled sideways into the attic.
The attic was dark. The light barely passed through a semicircular window that looked like a cat's eye.
Some kind of rubbish was crawling out of the darkness everywhere. The dust and cobwebs made everything seem shaggy and shaggy.
A bicycle with one wheel hugged the handlebars of a broken chair. An extinct mirror was attached to its side.
Deep under the boards something glittered faintly. Something round metal. Sashka craned his neck with all his might. You can’t tell: it’s either a samovar or a knight’s helmet.
Sashka carefully extended his hands into the darkness and touched the dusty boards. The cobwebs silently tore under my fingers. Someone small, who had a lot of legs, ran up Sashka’s arm right into her sleeve. Sashka shook his sleeve furiously.
Yes... This attic is not easy! Why be surprised? In Katya’s house, the attic should be different from others.
It would be nice to rummage around here. But not now. There's no time for that now.
Sashka sat down on a box by the window. Or rather, it was not a box, but some kind of old, flimsy chest. He creaked piercingly, and the whole thing moved under Sashka, as if alive, when he sat down on him.
With a sigh that sounded like a groan, Sashka pulled out a diary from his briefcase and opened it.
My heart sank sadly.
Here she is, damned. Two. It's worth it, it's so cute. Such a squiggle, but it ruins a person’s whole life.
But before that everything was just fine. There were only Friday and Saturday left until Sashka's birthday. You just had to live through them somehow, endure them, and that’s all. Well, maybe sleep more so that time passes quickly.
And on Sunday, dad promised to take the entire Sashkin fifth “A” on his boat “Stepan Razin”. Dad was a captain there.
And Sashka imagined a million times how he was standing on the bow of the boat next to Katya. The ice has recently melted. It could still rain or even snow.
He will wait until Katya is thoroughly frozen, quivers like a sheep's tail, and her famous bangs get wet.
Then he will take off and give her everything: the scarf, the coat, and the hat. And Katya will look at him with her bright, adult eyes.
Or maybe it will be possible to save her. Suddenly she gets lucky and falls overboard. As a last resort, give her a kick somehow unnoticed. Borka will start screaming and come up with something clever. But Sashka doesn’t, he won’t think. Once overboard, he will save you. And when he saves her, no one will care how she ended up there.
But now everything has burst. Because dad was just some kind of crazy with this math.
No, it’s not for nothing that they say that Monday is the most miserable day. The test was just on Monday. And here you go - a deuce.
Sashka swallowed the prickly saliva. He resolutely pulled out an eraser from his pencil case, rubbed the dirty corner on his trouser leg, holding his breath in his chest, and carefully began to erase the deuce.
It had to be washed very carefully. The paper was coming off in sheets.
Sashka shifted on the chest to sit more comfortably, but suddenly something grunted under him, crunched, broke, and Sashka fell down, right into the chest, so that his knees were higher than his head. A sharp sliver hit my side. And on the left there was another nail. He passed through his pants and entered Sasha a little.
Sashka glanced at the diary and sucked in a breath with a hiss. In place of the deuce there was a black hole.
He floundered furiously and senselessly, trying to get out of the chest.
I ruined everything myself! You can’t show such a diary to your dad at all. From this hole, anyone can immediately guess everything.
Finally, Sashka struggled to his feet. Unable to bear it, he angrily kicked the chest with all his might. The dry, ringing boards fell apart and scattered to the sides.
It was then that Sashka saw everything.
At the bottom of the chest, in a pile, one on top of the other, lay some amazing books.
The books were not simple. Sashka understood this immediately. You probably won’t find these in any library. Maybe only in a museum.
The books were old, even quite ancient. With clasps made of copper, and maybe even gold. And they're fat! One book is like dad's briefcase.
With both hands, Sashka hardly lifted the top book. How heavy! And the dust on it...
Sashka spat on the cover and rubbed it with his sleeve.
Deep golden letters glittered on the old dark skin. Sashka read:
"THE COMPLETE MAGIC ENCYCLOPEDIA"
Below, smaller golden letters glittered.
In six volumes.
These words somehow did not immediately reach Sashka, and suddenly seemed to explode in him. Sashka swayed. His hands clutched the book convulsively, as if it could break away from him, run away, or fly away like a bird.
Quietly, carefully, afraid to die, Sashka opened the book. The letters danced before his eyes: heavy, beautiful, all in curls.
“The witch is o-bull-no-ven-naya,” Sashka read from the warehouses. My head was empty and hollow. - Wow! Witch! And in brackets there is also written: “With and without a broom.” “Good wizards”, “Evil wizards”. "Liars and lies." And some other poems.
Not believing his eyes, Sashka read:
Wolves, howl at the moon!
Crayfish, crawl along the bottom!
At midnight the crow caws,
And all lies will become true!
Oker-poker, Dominoker,
Spin-span, Muskidan.
This “oker-poker” suddenly somehow sharply upset Sashka. He somehow ruined everything. Because of him, everything immediately became somehow stupid and frivolous. Is it really supposed to be like this if everything is real and magical?
"Note I. O liar! Your lies will only become true if they believe you. If they don’t believe you, your lies will remain just lies.
Note II. Oh, unfortunate one! If you, bending under the weight of lies, want everything to be again as before, then...”
Next, almost nothing could be made out. The bottom of the page was full of holes and stains. It was as if mice were chewing on the book. Moreover, one of the wizards read it during lunch and turned the pages with greasy fingers.
Sashka had difficulty reading:
Star Leo is my witness
Light of Sagittarius and Aquarius!
Break the seal of magic!
Just live... don't live...
And overcome myself...
Smo...smo...all on...
No, you can’t really make out anything, especially the last lines.
But Sashka didn’t bother to guess what was written there. Just think, some kind of star Leo... Nonsense!
The main thing was completely different. Magic! Does it really... exist?
Sashka gasped. He stepped to the window, leaned out and greedily took a breath of the sharp, cold air.
He saw an empty sunny courtyard. A red umbrella was crossing the street. In the house opposite, on the balcony, some aunt with bare hands, wrapping her head in a warm scarf, was beating a cotton blanket with a stick. Such a nice sparrow sat on the cornice. Then a well-fed, fat pigeon arrived.
Everything was very simple, ordinary. Yes, there is no magic. And it cannot be. Anna Semyonovna explained this at school. Where does he come from?
Sashka looked back into the darkness of the attic. Maybe there aren’t any books, it’s just my imagination?
But no. The old books still lay among the piles of boards, still important and faintly gleaming from the darkness with copper fasteners.
IN THE OLD ATTIC
Chapter 1
CHEST
It's rubbish! We must decide!
But for some reason what Sashka had in mind could not be done at home. You can't, that's all. Sashka himself didn’t even know why.
And then, as if some wind had blown him into the dark entrance of Katka’s house. It was probably the oldest house in their city. Only the church on the other side of the river, opposite the stadium, was probably even older.
Sashka tried to position himself next to the high dusty window, where a fly was kicking and buzzing sadly in the web.
But some people were constantly walking along the old Katka stairs to no avail. Some are up, others are down. And already two old women looked at Sashka suspiciously. Then they looked at each other with a knowing look and both shook their heads.
No, this was not the right place. Sashka was afraid: as soon as he opened his briefcase, a long nose would come out from behind his shoulder: “What are you doing here, boy, huh?”
Sashka began to climb up the stairs. But there were people everywhere outside the doors.
They laughed, talked, hammered something together.
Involuntarily standing on tiptoes, Sashka carefully walked past the door on which the sign hung.
“Dentist Petrova. Treatment and removal of teeth without pain."
An unpleasant chill ran down my spine.
From behind the door, covered with thick black oilcloth, Sashka heard the vile grinding of a drill and someone's groan.
“And it doesn’t hurt at all,” Dr. Petrova rasped.
Sashka climbed to the very top.
There was only one door, clogged with rough, rough boards. Sashka tore off the board, which was held on by a rusty nail, and crawled sideways into the attic.
The attic was dark. The light barely passed through a semicircular window that looked like a cat's eye.
Some kind of rubbish was crawling out of the darkness everywhere. The dust and cobwebs made everything seem shaggy and shaggy.
A bicycle with one wheel hugged the handlebars of a broken chair. An extinct mirror was attached to its side.
Deep under the boards something glittered faintly. Something round metal. Sashka craned his neck with all his might. You can’t tell: it’s either a samovar or a knight’s helmet.
Sashka carefully extended his hands into the darkness and touched the dusty boards. The cobwebs silently tore under my fingers. Someone small, who had a lot of legs, ran up Sashka’s arm right into her sleeve. Sashka shook his sleeve furiously.
Yes... This attic is not easy! Why be surprised? In Katya’s house, the attic should be different from others.
It would be nice to rummage around here. But not now. There's no time for that now.
Sashka sat down on a box by the window. Or rather, it was not a box, but some kind of old, flimsy chest. He creaked piercingly, and the whole thing moved under Sashka, as if alive, when he sat down on him.
With a sigh that sounded like a groan, Sashka pulled out a diary from his briefcase and opened it.
My heart sank sadly.
Here she is, damned. Two. It's worth it, it's so cute. Such a squiggle, but it ruins a person’s whole life.
But before that everything was just fine. There were only Friday and Saturday left until Sashka's birthday. You just had to live through them somehow, endure them, and that’s all. Well, maybe sleep more so that time passes quickly.
And on Sunday, dad promised to take the entire Sashkin fifth “A” on his boat “Stepan Razin”. Dad was a captain there.
And Sashka imagined a million times how he was standing on the bow of the boat next to Katya. The ice has recently melted. It could still rain or even snow.
He will wait until Katya is thoroughly frozen, quivers like a sheep's tail, and her famous bangs get wet.
Then he will take off and give her everything: the scarf, the coat, and the hat. And Katya will look at him with her bright, adult eyes.
Or maybe it will be possible to save her. Suddenly she gets lucky and falls overboard. As a last resort, give her a kick somehow unnoticed. Borka will start screaming and come up with something clever. But Sashka doesn’t, he won’t think. Once overboard, he will save you. And when he saves her, no one will care how she ended up there.
But now everything has burst. Because dad was just some kind of crazy with this math.
No, it’s not for nothing that they say that Monday is the most miserable day. The test was just on Monday. And here you go - a deuce.
Sashka swallowed the prickly saliva. He resolutely pulled out an eraser from his pencil case, rubbed the dirty corner on his trouser leg, holding his breath in his chest, and carefully began to erase the deuce.
It had to be washed very carefully. The paper was coming off in sheets.
Sashka shifted on the chest to sit more comfortably, but suddenly something grunted under him, crunched, broke, and Sashka fell down, right into the chest, so that his knees were higher than his head. A sharp sliver hit my side. And on the left there was another nail. He passed through his pants and entered Sasha a little.
Sashka glanced at the diary and sucked in a breath with a hiss. In place of the deuce there was a black hole.
He floundered furiously and senselessly, trying to get out of the chest.
I ruined everything myself! You can’t show such a diary to your dad at all. From this hole, anyone can immediately guess everything.
Finally, Sashka struggled to his feet. Unable to bear it, he angrily kicked the chest with all his might. The dry, ringing boards fell apart and scattered to the sides.
It was then that Sashka saw everything.
At the bottom of the chest, in a pile, one on top of the other, lay some amazing books.
The books were not simple. Sashka understood this immediately. You probably won’t find these in any library. Maybe only in a museum.
The books were old, even quite ancient. With clasps made of copper, and maybe even gold. And they're fat! One book is like dad's briefcase.
With both hands, Sashka hardly lifted the top book. How heavy! And the dust on it...
Sashka spat on the cover and rubbed it with his sleeve.
Deep golden letters glittered on the old dark skin. Sashka read:
"THE COMPLETE MAGIC ENCYCLOPEDIA"
Below, smaller golden letters glittered.
In six volumes.
These words somehow did not immediately reach Sashka, and suddenly seemed to explode in him. Sashka swayed. His hands clutched the book convulsively, as if it could break away from him, run away, or fly away like a bird.
Quietly, carefully, afraid to die, Sashka opened the book. The letters danced before his eyes: heavy, beautiful, all in curls.
“The witch is o-bull-no-ven-naya,” Sashka read from the warehouses. My head was empty and hollow. - Wow! Witch! And in brackets there is also written: “With and without a broom.” “Good wizards”, “Evil wizards”. "Liars and lies." And some other poems.
