Чудо-веточка - [3]

- Так уж и нет.

- Ну что ж пошли со мной - увидишь.

- Что ж, пройдусь с тобой. Все равно делать нечего. Посмотрю, какие у тебя чудеса.

Поднялись они по склону горы, белка и говорит тихо и загадочно:

- Вот здесь.

- Что здесь?

- Сейчас услышишь.

Оглянулся Хомяк. Стоят несколько сухих деревьев вокруг и больше ничего такого особенного.

- Где же тайна твоя?

- Молчи и слушай.

Со стороны подул ветерок, и полилась тихая трель:

- Тра-ля, тра-ля-ля.

То затихнет, то опять раздается.

- Так это же птенец выпал из гнезда. Тоже мне чудо.

- А вот и нет! Подойди к той сухой веточке, которая пустотелая и с дырочками на боку.

Хом подобрался к ветке и остановился. Она действительно играла каждый раз когда задувал ветер.

-Э-хэ-хэ-! - закричал он на весь лес и стал бегать по кругу от радости.

- Ты это чего? - белка была поражена, - Или тебя муха укусила?

- Мне нужна эта веточка-флейта, мне она очень нужна!

- Не дам я тебе ее, не дам! Это моя тайна.

Белка от возмущения развернулась и прошлась своим пышным хвостом прямо по мордочке Хомячка так, что тот на некоторое время перестал видеть. А Хом опомнился и с разбегу ткнул носом белку в бок.

- Стойте! - вдруг услышали они голос со стороны густого куста, который рос недалеко.

Перед ними стоял Джон с длинной палочкой в руках.

- Хом, не смей драться! Я тебя искал долго и вот нашел. - Джон подошел поближе, - Смотрите оба, у меня такая же веточка. Я ее здесь срезал и успел уже сделать из нее флейту. А у тебя я вижу - друг. Давайте вместе споем.

- Давайте! - обрадовался Хом, что Джон его нашел, и будет играть на флейте.

- Давайте! - обрадовалась белочка, что тайна ее осталась на месте.

И двинулись они по лесу с песенкой.

На веточке я прыгала, взлетала высоко,

Зеленую и гибкую любила я ее,

И вдруг поблекла веточка, засохла на корню,

Но не погибла веточка, играет на ветру.

Белочка пела, Джон играл на флейте, а Хом им радостно похрюкивал. Теперь-то он опять будет крутить свое колесо и рано или поздно все-таки доберется до заветной вершины.

Конец.

M. Belilovskiy

For Grandpa and Grandma whose courageous study of English and for your Grand child not to will forget his Russian

The Wonder Twig

In the dark, thickset forest stood a wooden house. There lived a father, mother, and their young son Johnny.

Once, the parents presented to him a live creature - a brown, downy, and very tiny hamster. He was named Ham.

The small beast was awfully curios. Everything was interesting for him. Generally, he was like a playful puppy. He had to muzzle everything, touching and smelling with his nose, viewing with his eyes. He intended to know everything.

Naturally, there was no end to his numerous monkey tricks.

Mama reasoned with Johnny, "Maybe it would be better to put the hamster into the cage."

"No, Mama, I beg you, let him be loose."

Mama agreed. And this is what soon happened....

It was a deep, dark night. The pale, round moon looked through the window. Everybody in the house was fast asleep. The silence was so deep, as they say, that there was a whistle in the ears. Fidgety Ham woke up from a tiresome fly and couldn't fall asleep again. He scratched one ear and then the other with his paws, snorted a couple of times, and began to walk toward the living room in the half darkness.

Afterward, Ham climbed up on the piano cover, slipped on the edge, and crashed with his whole body on the keyboard.

"Tararam-bamm!!!"

A piano accord sounded loudly in the darkness.

The hamster calmed down a few minutes from the surprise, lying on the keyboard. He soon collected himself, rising on his back paws and with his front paws began clambering again over the cover. But he was unsuccessful. So, he was playing his own whimsical melody and admiring it.

Who is to know how long Ham would have been playing if the light hadn't suddenly turned on. The small beast was frightened and disappeared deep into the Papa's boot.

Mama had lit the lamp. Half asleep, she was waking Papa,

"Dear, I can't believe it! Our son decided to play the piano himself. Now I hope he likes it. He will be playing! Our Johnny is a clever boy!"

"You're probably right," grumbled Papa, waking and feeling displeased, "but why so late at night?"

This thought compelled Mama and Papa, not realizing what the matter was, to jump up from the bed. First, they darted to the living room and didn't realize their son was hurrying to his room.

Meanwhile, Johnny was lying in his bed absolutely quiet with open eyes. He just wasn't frightened, but surprised of the piano sounds. He merely guessed what happened.

"Sweety," started Mama, "because of all that, I think the hamster's place has to be in the cage. Otherwise, it will prevent you from doing schoolwork and playing the piano."

Johnny frowned.

"Am I wrong?" Mama demanded.

"Please, Mama, don't take offense. I don't like playing the piano. Let me play the flute. My teacher began teaching me to play a little."

"I hope you know that the piano is the main instrument of almost any orchestra. You can use it for many more melodies. Sorry, my darling, you are wrong. I don't have anything against the flute, but it's nonsense to stop playing the piano. Your teacher plays the flute and piano, too."