The story of Boris Viktorovich Shergin "Misha Laskin" is conducted on behalf of the writer himself. When the author was still a child, he lived in a town on the banks of a large navigable river. He recalls his friendship with the boy Misha Laskin.

The acquaintance of the hero with Misha happened unusually, he shouted from the window, and so simply invited him to visit him for dinner, right from the same cup. Since then, the guys became friends, and the parents approved of this friendship. After all, Misha's dad is a sailor, he even went on a long voyage.

Misha was fighting, but a very kind guy and always helped everyone. Confirmation of this is the cases from life described in the story.

How Misha saved guys he didn't know who were going to fish at night. The red sky at sunset meant that there would be strong winds. Misha knew this and simply hid the oars of those boys so that they would not sail away. How he helped Vasya Ershov to carry a heavy mast. Although the author and Vasya constantly quarreled. But since then, the guys have become friends three of them. Also because Misha set a good example - to help those in need. As for beauty, they planted a wild rose on the shore.

The children often went to watch the storyteller's father build a ship. He loved Misha very much, was affectionate with him. But one day, the hero did not call Misha and went to his father alone. But dad taught his son a lesson, and forced him to apologize for this to a friend.

Three friends in the winter loved to copy books and make drawings for them. They did great. So they were able to earn their own boat to go fishing. The founder of the museum helped them in this, entrusting them to rewrite a large ancient book. Everyone liked the work done very much, for which the guys were given a gold coin. Misha tried to refuse this award, because he did not participate in the census of the book. This offended the two guys very much, because the main inspirer, and most importantly, a friend, was Misha.

Even after many years, having become adult men, Mikhail writes letters to the author of the story and sends rosehip petals.

This story is an example of kindness, sincerity, responsiveness and true friendship.

Picture or drawing by Misha Laskin

Other retellings and reviews for the reader's diary

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It was a long time ago when I was in school. I'm in a hurry to go home for dinner, and from a strange house an unfamiliar boy shouts to me:

Hey student! Come in for a minute! I go and ask:

What is your name?

Misha Laskin.

Do you live alone?

No, I came to my aunt. She ran away to work, ordered me to have dinner. I can't have lunch alone. I'm used to being on a ship with comrades. Sit down soon, eat with me from the same cup!

I told at home that I was visiting Misha Laskin. They tell me:

Good time! You call him to you. It is heard that his father has gone on a long voyage.

So I became friends with Misha.

Opposite our city the river is so wide that the other bank can hardly be seen. In the wind, waves with white crests roll along the river, as if gray horses run with white manes.

Once Misha and I were sitting on the shore. The calm river reflected the red cloudy sunset. About half a dozen guys were putting oars into the boat.

The eldest of the guys shouted:

Listen to my command! Everyone should be here in an hour. Now go get some bread. And they all left. Misha says:

It was they who gathered across the river for the night. In the morning they will fish. And they won't be home soon. Their stupid captain - does not understand that if the sky is red in the evening, then there will be a strong wind in the morning. If you talk, they won't listen. We must hide their oars.

We took the oars from the boat and pushed them under the pier, into the far corner, so that the mice could not be found.

Misha correctly guessed the weather. The sea wind blew in the morning. Seagulls screamed. Waves crashed against the shore. Yesterday's guys roamed the sand, looking for oars.

Misha said to the older boy:

You would have climbed from the night to the other side and would have roared there until tomorrow.

Boy says:

We have lost our oars. Misha laughed.

I hid the oars.

One day we went fishing. It was difficult to descend from the clay bank after the rain. Misha sat down to take off his shoes, I ran to the river. And towards Vasya Ershov. He drags the mast from the boat on his shoulder. I was not friends with him and I shout:

Vasya Yorsh, where are you crawling?

He scooped up clay with his free hand and blurted out at me. And Misha is running from the mountain. Vasya thinks: "This one will fight" - and jumped off the path into the mud.

And Misha grabbed the end of Vasya's mast and shouted:

Why are you in the dirt, buddy? Let me help you.

He carried Vasya's mast to the very top, to a flat road. I was waiting for him and thought: "Misha is only looking to help someone with something."

In the morning I took a wooden sailing boat of my own making and went to the Ershovs. Sat on the porch. Vasya came out and looked at the boat.

I speak:

This is for you.

He smiled and blushed. And I felt so much fun, as if on a holiday.

Once my father was building a ship near the city, and Misha and I went to look at his work. At lunchtime, my father treated us to fish pies. He stroked Misha on the head and said:

Eat, my dove.

Then he pours kvass into a ladle and gives it to Misha first:

Drink, my beloved.

I always went to the construction site with Misha. But one day I thought: "I won't take Misha today. I know how to talk to someone better than him."

And he did not tell his friend, one ran away.

The ship has already been launched. Can't get there without a boat. I shout from the shore to send a boat. My father looks at me, and he fixes the mast with his assistants. And it's like he doesn't recognize me.

For an hour I screamed in vain. I was about to go home. And suddenly Misha comes along. Asks me:

Why didn't you follow me?

I haven’t had time to lie yet, and a boat is sailing from the ship. Father saw that I was standing with Misha and sent for us.

On the ship, my father said to me sternly and sadly:

You ran away from Misha on the sly. You offended a true comrade. Ask him for forgiveness and love him without cunning.

Misha wanted to decorate the place where ships are being built. We began to dig wild rose bushes in the forest and plant them on the ship's shore. The next summer, the garden began to bloom.

Misha Laskin loved to read and copied what he liked into a notebook. On the free pages, I drew pictures, and we got a book. Vasya was also captivated by book art: he wrote as if he were typing. It was marvelous to us what kind of albums Misha gets from our painted sheets.

Books, and writing, and drawing are winter things. In the summer our thoughts turned to fishing. The spring drops will whisper a little, we have a conversation here: how we will sail to the islands, how we will hunt fish and get ducks.

We dreamed of a light boat. And then such a boat showed up in a distant village, with Misha's acquaintances. Misha went there himself, still along the winter path. The boat was not cheap, but the master liked Mishin's conversation, Mishin's desire and diligence, and he not only lowered the price, but also made a benefit: half the money now, half before the start of navigation.

Our fathers considered this undertaking expensive fun, however, trusting Misha, they gave money for a deposit.

Vasya and I rejoiced, called Misha a feeder and a skipper, swore that we would be obedient and helpful to him until death.

Just before the rabble, the three of us went into the Fishery Museum. We admire the models of ships, and Vasya says:

Soon we will have a beautiful boat! Misha paused and said:

One thing is not beautiful: again to rule the money on the fathers. I sighed too:

Oh, if only our writing and drawing could make money!..

We did not notice that Verpakhovsky, the founder of the museum, was listening to the conversation. He comes up to us and says:

Show me your writing and drawing. An hour later he was already looking at our homemade publications.

Fabulous! I was just looking for such craftsmen. A rare book is now in the Maritime Collection. It must be hastily written off and copied. You get a good price for good work.

And so we received a hundred-year-old, wise, book for rewriting, called: " Maritime Knowledge and skill."

The book had three hundred pages. We've been given two weeks. We reasoned that each of us would write off ten pages a day. Three will write thirty pages. This means that the correspondence can be completed in ten days.

Today, let's say, we distributed the hours of work for everyone, and the next day Misha Laskin had an opportunity.

For urgent matters he ran to his father on the ship. He spent the night with his father, and at night spring water broke the ice, and a great debauchery began. There was no communication with the city.

People - to think, and Vasya and I to do.

Come on, - we say, - let's surprise our skipper, write a book without him.

So they worked - they didn’t have time to wipe their nose. The old book was intricate, handwritten, but let's think about Misha - and the mind will become light and the concept will appear. Three of us could not understand this marine wisdom in two weeks, but the two of us wrote it off, copied it in nine days.

Verpakhovsky praised the work and said:

Tomorrow the Naval Assembly will sit sedate, I will show your work. And you get there at noon.

The next day we ran to the meeting, and Misha met us:

Guys, I ruined the book?

Misha, you are not a destroyer, you are a builder. Go with us.

In the Naval Assembly sit sedate, and in front of them is our brand new book. Misha realized that the work was done, and looked at us with such a cheerful look.

The staid Vorobyov, an old man with a formidable beard, said:

Well done boys! Take even small gifts from us.

The old man takes three patterned bone boxes from the table and gives them to Misha, me and Vasya. In each box, a golden gold piece gleams. Misha turned pale and put the box on the table.

Powerful sir, - said Misha, - this book is the work of my comrades. Wouldn't it be wild for me to take a reward for someone else's work?

With these words, Misha whipped us like a whip. Vasya twisted his mouth, as if he had swallowed something bitter, very bitter. And I cried out with tears:

Misha! How long have we become strangers to you? Misha, you took away our joy from us!

Everyone is silent, looking at Misha. He stands straight like a statue. But then two tears glistened from under lowered eyelashes and slowly rolled down his cheeks.

Elder Vorobyov took Mishin's box, put it in his hand, kissed all three of us and said:

There is bad weather, rain, but here we have a fragrant spring.

Many years have passed since then. I left a long time ago hometown. But recently I received a letter from Mikhail Laskin. The letter contains dried rosehip petals.

old friend writes to me:

"Our wild rose has grown widely, and when it blooms, the whole coast smells of roses."

Misha Laskin
Boris Shergin

Shergin Boris

Misha Laskin

Boris Viktorovich Shergin

Misha Laskin

It was a long time ago when I was in school. I'm in a hurry to go home for dinner, and from a strange house an unfamiliar boy shouts to me:

Hey student! Come in for a minute! I go and ask:

What is your name?

Misha Laskin.

Do you live alone?

No, I came to my aunt. She ran away to work, ordered me to have dinner. I can't have lunch alone. I'm used to being on a ship with comrades. Sit down soon, eat with me from the same cup!

I told at home that I was visiting Misha Laskin. They tell me:

Good time! You call him to you. It is heard that his father has gone on a long voyage.

So I became friends with Misha.

Opposite our city the river is so wide that the other bank can hardly be seen. In the wind, waves with white crests roll along the river, as if gray horses run with white manes.

Once Misha and I were sitting on the shore. The calm river reflected the red cloudy sunset. About half a dozen guys were putting oars into the boat.

The eldest of the guys shouted:

Listen to my command! Everyone should be here in an hour. Now go get some bread. And they all left. Misha says:

It was they who gathered across the river for the night. In the morning they will fish. And they won't be home soon. Their stupid captain - does not understand that if the sky is red in the evening, then there will be a strong wind in the morning. If you talk, they won't listen. We must hide their oars.

We took the oars from the boat and pushed them under the pier, into the far corner, so that the mice could not be found.

Misha correctly guessed the weather. The sea wind blew in the morning. Seagulls screamed. Waves crashed against the shore. Yesterday's guys roamed the sand, looking for oars.

Misha said to the older boy:

You would have climbed from the night to the other side and would have roared there until tomorrow.

Boy says:

We have lost our oars. Misha laughed.

I hid the oars.

One day we went fishing. It was difficult to descend from the clay bank after the rain. Misha sat down to take off his shoes, I ran to the river. And towards Vasya Ershov. He drags the mast from the boat on his shoulder. I was not friends with him and I shout:

Vasya Yorsh, where are you crawling?

He scooped up clay with his free hand and blurted out at me. And Misha is running from the mountain. Vasya thinks: "This one will fight" - and jumped off the path into the mud.

And Misha grabbed the end of Vasya's mast and shouted:

Why are you in the dirt, buddy? Let me help you.

He carried Vasya's mast to the very top, to a flat road. I was waiting for him and thought: "Misha is only looking to help someone with something."

In the morning I took a wooden sailing boat of my own making and went to the Ershovs. Sat on the porch. Vasya came out and looked at the boat.

I speak:

This is for you.

He smiled and blushed. And I felt so much fun, as if on a holiday.

Once my father was building a ship near the city, and Misha and I went to look at his work. At lunchtime, my father treated us to fish pies. He stroked Misha on the head and said:

Eat, my dove.

Then he pours kvass into a ladle and gives it to Misha first:

Drink, my beloved.

I always went to the construction site with Misha. But one day I thought: "I won't take Misha today. I know how to talk to someone better than him."

And he did not tell his friend, one ran away.

The ship has already been launched. Can't get there without a boat. I shout from the shore to send a boat. My father looks at me, and he fixes the mast with his assistants. And it's like he doesn't recognize me.

For an hour I screamed in vain. I was about to go home. And suddenly Misha comes along. Asks me:

Why didn't you follow me?

I haven’t had time to lie yet, and a boat is sailing from the ship. Father saw that I was standing with Misha and sent for us.

On the ship, my father said to me sternly and sadly:

You ran away from Misha on the sly. You offended a true comrade. Ask him for forgiveness and love him without cunning.

Misha wanted to decorate the place where ships are being built. We began to dig wild rose bushes in the forest and plant them on the ship's shore. The next summer, the garden began to bloom.

Misha Laskin loved to read and copied what he liked into a notebook. On the free pages, I drew pictures, and we got a book. Vasya was also captivated by book art: he wrote as if he were typing. It was marvelous to us what kind of albums Misha gets from our painted sheets.

Books, and writing, and drawing are winter things. In the summer our thoughts turned to fishing. The spring drops will whisper a little, we have a conversation here: how we will sail to the islands, how we will hunt fish and get ducks.

We dreamed of a light boat. And then such a boat showed up in a distant village, with Misha's acquaintances. Misha went there himself, still along the winter path. The boat was not cheap, but the master liked Mishin's conversation, Mishin's desire and diligence, and he not only lowered the price, but also made a benefit: half the money now, half before the start of navigation.

Our fathers considered this undertaking expensive fun, however, trusting Misha, they gave money for a deposit.

Vasya and I rejoiced, called Misha a feeder and a skipper, swore that we would be obedient and helpful to him until death.

Just before the rabble, the three of us went into the Fishery Museum. We admire the models of ships, and Vasya says:

Soon we will have a beautiful boat! Misha paused and said:

One thing is not beautiful: again to rule the money on the fathers. I sighed too:

Oh, if only our writing and drawing could make money!..

We did not notice that Verpakhovsky, the founder of the museum, was listening to the conversation. He comes up to us and says:

Show me your writing and drawing. An hour later he was already looking at our homemade publications.

Fabulous! I was just looking for such craftsmen. A rare book is now in the Maritime Collection. It must be hastily written off and copied. You get a good price for good work.

And so we received a hundred-year-old, wise book for rewriting, called: "Marine Knowledge and Skill".

The book had three hundred pages. We've been given two weeks. We reasoned that each of us would write off ten pages a day. Three will write thirty pages. This means that the correspondence can be completed in ten days.

Today, let's say, we distributed the hours of work for everyone, and the next day Misha Laskin had an opportunity.

For urgent matters he ran to his father on the ship. He spent the night with his father, and at night spring water broke the ice, and a great debauchery began. There was no communication with the city.

People - to think, and Vasya and I to do.

Come on, - we say, - let's surprise our skipper, write a book without him.

So they worked - they didn’t have time to wipe their nose. The old book was intricate, handwritten, but let's think about Misha - and the mind will become light and the concept will appear. Three of us could not understand this marine wisdom in two weeks, but the two of us wrote it off, copied it in nine days.

Verpakhovsky praised the work and said:

Tomorrow the Naval Assembly will sit sedate, I will show your work. And you get there at noon.

The next day we ran to the meeting, and Misha met us:

Guys, I ruined the book?

Misha, you are not a destroyer, you are a builder. Go with us.

In the Naval Assembly sit sedate, and in front of them is our brand new book. Misha realized that the work was done, and looked at us with such a cheerful look.

The staid Vorobyov, an old man with a formidable beard, said:

Well done boys! Take even small gifts from us.

The old man takes three patterned bone boxes from the table and gives them to Misha, me and Vasya. In each box, a golden gold piece gleams. Misha turned pale and put the box on the table.

Powerful sir, - said Misha, - this book is the work of my comrades. Wouldn't it be wild for me to take a reward for someone else's work?

With these words, Misha whipped us like a whip. Vasya twisted his mouth, as if he had swallowed something bitter, very bitter. And I cried out with tears:

Misha! How long have we become strangers to you? Misha, you took away our joy from us!

Everyone is silent, looking at Misha. He stands straight like a statue. But then two tears glistened from under lowered eyelashes and slowly rolled down his cheeks.

Elder Vorobyov took Mishin's box, put it in his hand, kissed all three of us and said:

There is bad weather, rain, but here we have a fragrant spring.

Many years have passed since then. I left my hometown a long time ago. But recently I received a letter from Mikhail Laskin. The letter contains dried rosehip petals.

An old friend writes to me:

"Our wild rose has grown widely, and when it blooms, the whole coast smells of roses."

It was a long time ago when I was in school. I'm in a hurry to go home for dinner, and from a strange house an unfamiliar boy shouts to me:
- Hey, student! Come in for a minute!
I go and ask:
- What is your name?
- Misha Laskin.
- Do you live alone?
- No, I came to my aunt. She ran away to work, ordered me to have dinner. I can't dine alone, I'm used to being on a ship with comrades. Sit down soon, eat with me from the same cup!
I told at home that I was visiting Misha Laskin. They tell me:
- Good afternoon! You call him to you. It is heard that his father has gone on a long voyage.
So I became friends with Misha.
Opposite our city the river is so wide that the other bank can hardly be seen. In the wind, waves with white crests roll along the river, as if gray horses run with white manes.
Once Misha and I were sitting on the beach. The calm river reflected the red cloudy sunset. About half a dozen guys were putting oars into the boat.
The eldest of the guys shouted:
- Listen to my command! Everyone should be here in an hour. Now go get some bread.
And they all left. Misha says:
“They are gathered across the river for the night. In the morning they will fish. And they won't be home soon. Their stupid captain - does not understand that if the sky is red in the evening, then there will be a strong wind in the morning. If you talk, they won't listen. We must hide their oars.
We took the oars from the boat and pushed them under the pier, into the far corner, so that the mice could not be found.
Misha correctly guessed the weather. The sea wind blew in the morning. Seagulls screamed. Waves crashed against the shore. Yesterday's guys roamed the sand, looking for oars.
Misha said to the older boy:
- You would climb from the night to the other side and roar there until tomorrow.
Boy says:
We have lost the oars.
Misha laughed.
- I hid the oars.
One day we went fishing. It was difficult to descend from the clay bank after the rain. Misha sat down to take off his shoes, I ran to the river. And towards Vasya Ershov. He drags the mast from the boat on his shoulder. I was not friends with him and I shout:
- Vasya Ersh, where are you crawling?
He scooped up clay with his free hand and blurted out at me. And Misha is running from the mountain. Vasya thinks: "This one will fight" - and jumped off the path into the mud.
And Misha grabbed the end of Vasya's mast and shouted:
“Why are you in the dirt, buddy? Let me help you.
He carried Vasya's mast to the very top, to a flat road. I was waiting for him and thought: "Misha is only looking, as if to help someone with something."
In the morning I took a wooden sailing boat of my own making and went to the Ershovs. Sat on the porch. Vasya came out and looked at the boat.
I speak:
- This is for you.
He smiled and blushed. And I felt so much fun, as if on a holiday.
Once my father was building a ship near the city, and Misha and I went to look at his work. At lunchtime, my father treated us to fish pies. He stroked Misha on the head and said:
- Eat, my darling.
Then he pours kvass into a ladle and gives it to Misha first:
- Drink, my beloved.
I always went to the construction site with Misha. But one day I thought: “I won’t take Mishka today. I know how to talk to someone better than him.
And he did not tell his friend, one ran away.
The ship has already been launched. Can't get there without a boat. I shout from the shore to send a boat. My father looks at me, and he fixes the mast with his assistants. And it's like he doesn't recognize me.
For an hour I screamed in vain. I was about to go home. And suddenly Misha comes along. Asks me:
- Why didn't you follow me?
I haven’t had time to lie yet, and a boat is sailing from the ship. Father saw that I was standing with Misha and sent for us.
On the ship, my father said to me sternly and sadly:
- You ran away from Misha on the sly. You offended a true comrade. Ask him for forgiveness and love him without cunning.
Misha wanted to decorate the place where ships are being built. We began to dig wild rose bushes in the forest and plant them on the ship's shore. The next summer, the garden began to bloom.
Misha Laskin loved to read and copied what he liked in his notebooks. On the free pages, I drew pictures, and we got a book. Vasya was also captivated by book art: he wrote as if he were typing.
It was marvelous to us what kind of albums Misha gets from our painted sheets.
Books, and writing, and drawing are winter business. In summer, our thoughts turn to fishing. The spring drops will whisper a little, we have a conversation here: how we will sail to the islands, how we will trade fish and get ducks.
We dreamed of a light boat. And then such a boat showed up in a distant village, with Misha's acquaintances. Misha himself went there, still along the winter path. The boat was not cheap, but the master liked Mishin's conversation, Mishin's desire and effort, and he not only lowered the price, but also made a benefit: half the money now, half before the start of navigation.
Our fathers considered this undertaking expensive fun, however, trusting Misha, they gave money for a deposit.
Vasya and I rejoiced, called Misha a feeder and a skipper, swore that we would be obedient and helpful to him until death.
Just before the rabble, the three of us went into the Fishery Museum. We admire the ship models, and Vasya says:
- Soon we will have a beautiful boat!
Misha paused and said:
- One thing is not beautiful: again to rule the money on the fathers.
I sighed too:
- Oh, if only our writing and drawing could earn money! ...
We did not notice that Verpakhovsky, the founder of the museum, was listening to the conversation. He comes up to us and says:
Show me your writing and drawing.
An hour later he was already looking at our homemade publications.
- Fabulous! I was just looking for such craftsmen.
A rare book is now in the Maritime Collection. It must be hastily written off and copied. You get a good price for good work.
And so we received a hundred-year-old wise book for rewriting, called “Marine Knowledge and Skill”.
The book had three hundred pages. We've been given two weeks. We reasoned that each of us would write off ten pages a day. Three will write thirty pages. This means that the correspondence can be completed in ten days.
Today, let's say, we distributed the hours of work for everyone, and the next day Misha Laskin had an opportunity. For urgent matters he ran to his father on the ship. He spent the night with his father, and at night spring water broke the ice, and a great debauchery began. There was no communication with the city.
People - to think, and Vasya and I - to do.
“Come on,” we say, “we will surprise our skipper, write a book without him.”
So they worked - lack of time to wipe the nose. The old book was intricate, handwritten, but let's think about Misha - and the mind will become light and the concept will appear. Three of us could not understand this Pomeranian wisdom in two weeks, but the two of us wrote it off, copied it in nine days.
Verpakhovsky praised the work and said:
- Tomorrow the Naval Assembly will sit sedate, I will show your work. And you get there at noon.
The next day we run to the meeting, and Misha meets us:
- Guys, I ruined the book?
- Misha, you are not a destroyer, you are a builder. Go with us.
In the Naval Assembly sit sedate, and in front of them is our brand new book. Misha realized that the work was done, and looked at us with such a cheerful look.
The staid Vorobyov, an old man with a formidable beard, said:
- Well done boys! Take even small gifts from us.
The old man takes three patterned bone boxes from the table and gives them to Misha, me and Vasya. In each box, a golden gold piece gleams. Misha turned pale and put the box on the table.
“Sir, sedate,” Misha said, “this book is the work of my comrades. Wouldn't it be wild for me to take a reward for someone else's work?
With these words, Misha whipped us like a whip. Vasya twisted his mouth, as if he had swallowed something bitter, very bitter. And I cried out with tears:
- Misha! How long have we become strangers to you? Misha, you took away our joy from us! ...
Everyone is silent, looking at Misha. He stands straight like a statue. But then two tears glistened from under lowered eyelashes and slowly rolled down his cheeks.
Elder Vorobyov took Mishin's box, put it in his hand, kissed all three of us and said:
- It's bad weather outside, it's raining, but here we have a fragrant spring.
Many years have passed since then. I left my hometown a long time ago. But recently I received a letter from Mikhail Laskin. The letter contains dried rosehip petals.
An old friend writes to me:
“Our wild rose has grown widely, and when it blooms, the whole coast smells of roses.”

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SHERGIN
Boris Viktorovich
Misha Laskin
It was a long time ago when I was in school. I'm in a hurry to go home for dinner, and from a strange house an unfamiliar boy shouts to me:
- Hey, student! Come in for a minute! I go and ask:
- What is your name?
- Misha Laskin.
- Do you live alone?
- No, I came to my aunt. She ran away to work, ordered me to have dinner. I can't have lunch alone. I'm used to being on a ship with comrades. Sit down soon, eat with me from the same cup!
I told at home that I was visiting Misha Laskin. They tell me:
- Good afternoon! You call him to you. It is heard that his father has gone on a long voyage.
So I became friends with Misha.
Opposite our city the river is so wide that the other bank can hardly be seen. In the wind, waves with white crests roll along the river, as if gray horses run with white manes.
Once Misha and I were sitting on the shore. The calm river reflected the red cloudy sunset. About half a dozen guys were putting oars into the boat.
The eldest of the guys shouted:
- Listen to my command! Everyone should be here in an hour. Now go get some bread. And they all left. Misha says:
“They are gathered across the river for the night. In the morning they will fish. And they won't be home soon. Their stupid captain - does not understand that if the sky is red in the evening, then there will be a strong wind in the morning. If you talk, they won't listen. We must hide their oars.
We took the oars from the boat and pushed them under the pier, into the far corner, so that the mice could not be found.
Misha correctly guessed the weather. The sea wind blew in the morning. Seagulls screamed. Waves crashed against the shore. Yesterday's guys roamed the sand, looking for oars.
Misha said to the older boy:
- You would climb from the night to the other side and roar there until tomorrow.
Boy says:
We have lost the oars.
Misha laughed.
- I hid the oars.
One day we went fishing. It was difficult to descend from the clay bank after the rain. Misha sat down to take off his shoes, I ran to the river. And towards Vasya Ershov. He drags the mast from the boat on his shoulder. I was not friends with him and I shout:
- Vasya Yorsh, where are you crawling?
He scooped up clay with his free hand and blurted out at me. And Misha is running from the mountain. Vasya thinks: "This one will fight" - and jumped off the path into the mud.
And Misha grabbed the end of Vasya's mast and shouted:
“Why are you in the dirt, buddy? Let me help you.
He carried Vasya's mast to the very top, to a flat road. I was waiting for him and thought: "Misha is only looking to help someone with something."
In the morning I took a wooden sailing boat of my own making and went to the Ershovs. Sat on the porch. Vasya came out and looked at the boat.
I speak:
- This is for you.
He smiled and blushed. And I felt so much fun, as if on a holiday.
Once my father was building a ship near the city, and Misha and I went to look at his work. At lunchtime, my father treated us to fish pies. He stroked Misha on the head and said:
- Eat, my darling.
Then he pours kvass into a ladle and gives it to Misha first:
- Drink, my beloved.
I always went to the construction site with Misha. But one day I thought: "I won't take Misha today. I know how to talk to someone better than him."
And he did not tell his friend, one ran away.
The ship has already been launched. Can't get there without a boat. I shout from the shore to send a boat. My father looks at me, and he fixes the mast with his assistants. And it's like he doesn't recognize me.
For an hour I screamed in vain. I was about to go home. And suddenly Misha comes along. Asks me:
- Why didn't you follow me?
I haven’t had time to lie yet, and a boat is sailing from the ship. Father saw that I was standing with Misha and sent for us.
On the ship, my father said to me sternly and sadly:
- You ran away from Misha on the sly. You offended a true comrade. Ask him for forgiveness and love him without cunning.
Misha wanted to decorate the place where ships are being built. We began to dig wild rose bushes in the forest and plant them on the ship's shore. The next summer, the garden began to bloom.
Misha Laskin loved to read and copied what he liked into a notebook. On the free pages, I drew pictures, and we got a book. Vasya was also captivated by book art: he wrote as if he were typing. It was marvelous to us what kind of albums Misha gets from our painted sheets.
Books, and writing, and drawing are winter things. In the summer our thoughts turned to fishing. The spring drops will whisper a little, we have a conversation here: how we will sail to the islands, how we will hunt fish and get ducks.
We dreamed of a light boat. And then such a boat showed up in a distant village, with Misha's acquaintances. Misha went there himself, still along the winter path. The boat was not cheap, but the master liked Mishin's conversation, Mishin's desire and effort, and he not only lowered the price, but also made a benefit: half the money now, half before the start of navigation.
Our fathers considered this undertaking expensive fun, however, trusting Misha, they gave money for a deposit.
Vasya and I rejoiced, called Misha a feeder and a skipper, swore that we would be obedient and helpful to him until death.
Just before the rabble, the three of us went into the Fishery Museum. We admire the models of ships, and Vasya says:
- Soon we will have a beautiful boat! Misha paused and said:
- One thing is not beautiful: again to rule the money on the fathers. I sighed too:
- Oh, if only our writing and drawing could earn money! ..
We did not notice that Verpakhovsky, the founder of the museum, was listening to the conversation. He comes up to us and says:
Show me your writing and drawing. An hour later he was already looking at our homemade publications.
- Fabulous! I was just looking for such craftsmen. A rare book is now in the Maritime Collection. It must be hastily written off and copied. You get a good price for good work.
And so we received a hundred-year-old, wise book for rewriting, called: "Marine Knowledge and Skill".
The book had three hundred pages. We've been given two weeks. We reasoned that each of us would write off ten pages a day. Three will write thirty pages. This means that the correspondence can be completed in ten days.
Today, let's say, we distributed the hours of work for everyone, and the next day Misha Laskin had an opportunity.
For urgent matters he ran to his father on the ship. He spent the night with his father, and at night spring water broke the ice, and a great debauchery began. There was no communication with the city.
People - to think, and Vasya and I to do.
“Come on,” we say, “we will surprise our skipper, write a book without him.”
So they worked - lack of time to wipe the nose. The old book was intricate, handwritten, but let's think about Misha - and the mind will become light and the concept will appear. Three of us could not understand this marine wisdom in two weeks, but the two of us wrote it off, copied it in nine days.
Verpakhovsky praised the work and said:
- Tomorrow the Naval Assembly will sit sedate, I will show your work. And you get there at noon.
The next day we ran to the meeting, and Misha met us:
- Guys, I ruined the book?
- Misha, you are not a destroyer, you are a builder. Go with us.
In the Naval Assembly sit sedate, and in front of them is our brand new book. Misha realized that the work was done, and looked at us with such a cheerful look.
The staid Vorobyov, an old man with a formidable beard, said:
- Well done boys! Take even small gifts from us.
The old man takes three patterned bone boxes from the table and gives them to Misha, me and Vasya. In each box, a golden gold piece gleams. Misha turned pale and put the box on the table.
“Sir, sedate,” Misha said, “this book is the work of my comrades. Wouldn't it be wild for me to take a reward for someone else's work?
With these words, Misha whipped us like a whip. Vasya twisted his mouth, as if he had swallowed something bitter, very bitter. And I cried out with tears:
- Misha! How long have we become strangers to you? Misha, you took away our joy from us!
Everyone is silent, looking at Misha. He stands straight like a statue. But then two tears glistened from under lowered eyelashes and slowly rolled down his cheeks.
Elder Vorobyov took Mishin's box, put it in his hand, kissed all three of us and said:
- It's bad weather outside, it's raining, but here we have a fragrant spring.
Many years have passed since then. I left my hometown a long time ago. But recently I received a letter from Mikhail Laskin. The letter contains dried rosehip petals.
An old friend writes to me:
"Our wild rose has grown widely, and when it blooms, the whole coast smells of roses."
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