Malchish-Kibalchish is the origin of the name. The meaning of the word malchish-kibalchish in the literary encyclopedia In which family did the kibalchish boy live

A fairy tale about a military secret, Malchish-Kibalchish and his firm word.
- Tell me, Natka, a fairy tale, - the blue-eyed girl asked and smiled guiltily.
- A fairy tale? thought Natka. - I don't know fairy tales. Or not... I'll tell you Alkin's tale. Can? she asked the alerted Alka.
- You can, - Alka allowed, proudly looking at the hushed Octobrists.
- I will tell Alkin a fairy tale in my own words. And if I forgot something or say something wrong, then let him correct me. Well, listen!

“In those distant, distant years, when the war had just died down throughout the country, there lived and was Malchish-Kibalchish.
At that time, the Red Army drove the white troops of the damned bourgeois far away, and it became quiet in those wide fields, in green meadows where rye grew, where buckwheat bloomed, where among the dense gardens and cherry bushes stood the little house in which Malchish lived, nicknamed Kibalchish Yes, Malchish's father, and Malchish's older brother, but they didn't have a mother.
The father works - he mows hay. My brother works - he carries hay. Yes, and the Malchish himself either helps his father or his brother, or simply jumps and indulges with other boys.
Hop!.. Hop!.. Good! Bullets do not squeal, shells do not rumble, villages do not burn. No need to lie down on the floor from bullets, no need to hide in the cellars from shells, no need to run from fires into the forest. There is nothing to be afraid of the bourgeoisie. Someone to bow to the waist. Live and work - a good life!
One day - it was towards evening - Malchish-Kibalchish came out onto the porch. He looks - the sky is clear, the wind is warm, the sun sets behind the Black Mountains at night. And everything would be fine, but something is not good. Malchish hears, as if something is rattling, or something is knocking. It seems to the Malchish that the wind smells not of flowers from gardens, not of honey from meadows, but that the wind smells either of smoke from fires, or of gunpowder from explosions. He said to his father, and his father came tired.
- What you? he says to Malchish. - These are distant thunderstorms thundering beyond the Black Mountains. These are the shepherds smoking bonfires across the Blue River, herds grazing and cooking dinner. Go, Boy, and sleep well.
Malchish left. Went to sleep. But he can't sleep - well, he can't fall asleep at all.
Suddenly he hears a clatter in the street, a knock at the windows. Malchish-Kibalchish looked, and he saw: a rider was standing at the window. The horse is black, the saber is light, the hat is gray, and the star is red.
- Hey, get up! shouted the rider. - Trouble came from where they did not expect. The accursed bourgeois attacked us from behind the Black Mountains. Bullets are already whistling again, shells are already exploding again. Our detachments are fighting with the bourgeois, and messengers are rushing to call for help from the distant Red Army.
So the red-star rider said these disturbing words and sped away. And Malchish's father went up to the wall, took off his rifle, threw in his bag and put on a bandolier.
- Well, - he says to his eldest son, - I sowed rye thickly - it is clear that you will have to harvest a lot. Well, - he says to Malchish, - I lived my life coolly, and you, Malchish, will have to live quietly for me.
So he said, kissed Malchish warmly and left. And he had no time to kiss a lot, because now everyone could see and hear how explosions hum beyond the meadows and the dawns burn behind the mountains from the glow of smoky fires ... "

So I say, Alka? - Asked Natka, looking around the hushed guys.
- So ... so, Natka, - Alka answered quietly and put his hand on her tanned shoulder.

- “Well ... A day passes, two passes. Malchish will come out onto the porch: no ... the Red Army will not be seen yet. The boy will climb onto the roof. All day from the roof does not get off. No, you can't see. He went to bed at night. Suddenly he hears a clatter in the street, a knock at the window. Malchish looked out: the same rider was standing at the window. Only the horse is thin and tired, only the saber is bent, dark, only the hat is shot through, the star is chopped, and the head is tied.
- Hey, get up! shouted the rider. - It was half the trouble, and now the trouble is all around. Many bourgeois, but few of ours. Clouds of bullets in the field, thousands of shells on detachments. Hey, get up, let's help!
Then the elder brother got up and said to Malchish:
- Farewell, Malchish ... You are left alone ... Cabbage soup in the cauldron, a loaf on the table, water in the keys, and your head on your shoulders ... Live as you can, but don't wait for me.
A day passes, two passes. Malchish is sitting by the chimney on the roof, and Malchish sees an unfamiliar rider galloping from afar.
The rider galloped to Malchish, jumped off his horse and said:
- Give me, good Malchish, some water to drink. I didn’t drink for three days, I didn’t sleep for three nights, I drove three horses. The Red Army found out about our misfortune. The trumpeters blew on all signal trumpets. The drummers beat on all the loud drums. The standard-bearers unfurled all the battle banners. Rushing and galloping to the aid of the entire Red Army. oskazkah.ru - site If only we, Malchish, could hold out until tomorrow night.
Tears Malchish from the roof, brought to drink. The messenger got drunk and rode on.
Here evening comes, and the Malchish went to bed. But the Boy can't sleep - well, what kind of dream is that?
Suddenly he hears steps on the street, a rustle at the window. Malchish looked and saw: the same man was standing at the window. That one, but not that one: there is no horse - the horse is gone, and there is no saber - the saber is broken, and there is no hat - the hat has fallen off, and he himself is standing - staggering.
- Hey, get up! he shouted for the last time. - And there are shells, but the arrows are beaten. And there are rifles, but there are few fighters. And help is close, but there is no strength. Hey, get up, who else is left! If only we could stand the night and last the day.
Malchish-Kibalchish looked into the street: an empty street. The shutters do not slam, the gates do not creak - there is no one to get up. And the fathers left, and the brothers left - no one was left.
Only the Malchish sees that one old grandfather at a hundred years old has come out of the gate. Grandfather wanted to pick up a rifle, but he is so old that he won't pick it up. Grandfather wanted to fasten a saber, but he is so weak that he will not fasten. Then the grandfather sat down on the mound, lowered his head and cried ...

So I say, Alka? - Asked Natka to take a breath, and looked around.

More than one Octobrist listened to this Alka's tale. Who knows when, the entire pioneer Ioskino link crawled silently. And even the Bashkir Emine, who only barely understood Russian, sat thoughtful and serious. Even the mischievous Vlad, who was lying at a distance, pretending that he was not listening, actually listened, because he was lying quietly, not talking to anyone and not hurting anyone.

So, Natka, so ... Even better than that, - Alka answered, moving even closer to her.

- “Well ... The old grandfather sat down on the mound, lowered his head and cried.
It hurt then the Malchish became. Then Malchish-Kibalchish jumped out into the street and shouted loudly:
- Hey, you boys, boys, babies! Or should we boys just play with sticks and jump rope? And the fathers are gone, and the brothers are gone. Or should we boys sit and wait for the bourgeoisie to come and take us to their damned bourgeoisie?
How did the little boys hear such words, how they will scream in all voices! Who runs out the door, who climbs out the window, who jumps through the wattle fence.
Everyone wants to help. Only one Malchish-Plokhish wanted to go to the bourgeoisie. But this bad guy was so cunning that he didn’t say anything to anyone, but pulled up his pants and rushed along with everyone, as if to help.
Boys fight from dark night to bright dawn. Only one Plokhish does not fight, but keeps walking and looking out for how to help the bourgeoisie. And Plokhish sees that there is a mass of boxes behind the hill, and black bombs, white shells and yellow cartridges are hidden in those boxes. "Hey," thought Bad Boy, "that's what I need."
Meanwhile, the Chief Burzhuin asks his bourgeois:
- Well, bourgeois, have you achieved victory?
- No, the Chief Bourgeois, - the bourgeois answer, - we defeated our fathers and brothers, and our victory was completely, but Malchish-Kibalchish rushed to their aid, and we still can’t cope with him.
Then the Chief Burzhuin was very surprised and angry, and he shouted in a menacing voice:
- Is it possible that they could not cope with Malchish? Oh, you worthless cowards-bourgeoischi! How can you not break such a small one? Download quickly and don't come back without a win.
Here the bourgeois sit and think: what is it for them to do? Suddenly they see: Malchish-Plokhish crawls out from behind the bushes and straight to them.
- Rejoice! he shouts at them. - It's all I, Bad Boy, did. I chopped wood, I hauled hay, and I set fire to all the boxes with black bombs, white shells and yellow cartridges. That's going to crash now!
The bourgeois were delighted then, they quickly enrolled Malchish-Plokhish in their bourgeoisie and gave him a whole barrel of jam and a whole basket of cookies.
The Malchish-Plohish sits, eats and rejoices.
Suddenly, the lit boxes exploded! And it sounded so loud, as if thousands of thunders struck in one place and thousands of lightnings flashed from one cloud.
- Treason! shouted Malchish-Kibalchish.
- Treason! - shouted all his faithful boys.
But then, because of the smoke and fire, a bourgeois force swooped in, and grabbed and twisted Malchish-Kibalchish.
They chained the Malchish in heavy chains. They put Malchish in a stone tower. And they rushed to ask: what will the Chief Bourgeois now order to do with the captive Malchish?
The Chief Bourgeois thought for a long time, and then he came up with and said:
- We will destroy this Malchish. But let him first tell us the whole of their Military Secret. You go, bourgeois, and ask him:
Why, Malchish, did Forty Tsars and Forty Kings fight with the Red Army, fought, fought, but only crashed themselves?
“Why, Malchish, are all the prisons full, and all the penal servitudes full, and all the gendarmes at the corners, and all the troops on their feet, but we have no rest either on a bright day or on a dark night?
- Why, Malchish, damned Kibalchish, and in my High Bourgeoisdom, and in another - the Plain Kingdom, and in the third - the Snow Kingdom, and in the fourth - Sultry State on the same day in early spring and on the same day in late autumn on different languages, but they sing the same songs, in different hands, but they carry the same banners, they say the same speeches, they think the same and do the same?
You ask, bourgeois:
- Isn't it, Malchish, the Red Army has a military secret? Let him tell the secret.
- Do our workers have someone else's help? And let him tell you where help comes from.
- Isn't there, Malchish, a secret passage from your country to all other countries, on which, as they click on you, they respond to us, as they sing from you, so they pick up from us, what they say from you, we think about it?
The bourgeois left, but soon returned back:
- No, Chief Bourgeois, Malchish-Kibalchish did not reveal the Military Secret to us. He laughed in our face.
- There is, - he says, - and a powerful secret in the strong Red Army. And whenever you attack, you will not win.
- There is, - he says, - and innumerable help, and no matter how much you throw into prisons, you still don’t throw it, and you will not have peace either on a bright day or on a dark night.
- There are, - he says, - and deep secret passages. But no matter how much you search, you still won't find it. And they would have found it, so don’t fill it up, don’t lay it down, don’t fall asleep. And I won’t say anything more to you, the bourgeois, but you damned ones yourself will never guess.
Then the Chief Bourgeois frowned and said:
- Make, bourgeois, this secretive Malchish-Kibalchish the most terrible Torment that exists in the world, and extort from him the Military Secret, because we will have neither life nor peace without this important Secret.
The bourgeois have gone, but now they will not return soon. They walk and shake their heads.
- No, - they say, - our chief Bourgeois. He stood pale, Malchish, but proud, and he did not tell us the Military Secret, because he had such a firm word. And when we were leaving, he sank to the floor, put his ear to the heavy stone of the cold floor, and, would you believe it, O Chief Burzhuin, he smiled so that we, the bourgeois, shuddered, and we were afraid that he had not heard, how our inevitable death walks along the secret passages? ..
- This is not a secret ... this is the Red Army galloping! - Karasikov, who could not bear the october, shouted enthusiastically.
And he waved his hand with an imaginary saber so belligerently that the same girl who until recently, jumping on one leg, fearlessly teased him “Karasik-rugasik”, looked at him with displeasure and, just in case, moved away.

Here Natka interrupted the story, because from afar there was a signal for dinner.
- Tell me, - commandingly said Alka, angrily looking into her face.
- Tell me, - Ioska, flushed, said convincingly. - We will quickly line up for this.
Natka looked around: none of the children got up. She saw many, many childish heads - blond, dark, chestnut, golden-haired. Eyes looked at her from everywhere: big, brown, like Alka's; clear, cornflower blue, like that blue-eyed woman who asked for a fairy tale; narrow, black, like Emine's. And many, many other eyes - usually cheerful and mischievous, but now thoughtful and serious.
- Okay guys, I'll tell you.

“... And we became afraid, Chief Bourgeois, that he hadn’t heard our inevitable death walking through the secret passages? ..
- What country is it? - then exclaimed the surprised Chief Bourgeois. - What kind of incomprehensible country is this, in which even such kids know the Military Secret and keep their firm word so tightly? Hurry up, bourgeois, and destroy this proud Malchish. Load up your cannons, take out your sabers, unfurl our bourgeois banners, because I can hear our signalmen trumpeting the alarm and our wavers waving their flags. It can be seen that we will now have not an easy battle, but a hard battle.

And Malchish-Kibalchish died ... "- said Natka.
At these unexpected words, the face of the Octobrist Karasikov suddenly became sad, bewildered, and he no longer waved his hand. The blue-eyed girl frowned, and Ioska's freckled face became angry, as if he had just been deceived or offended. The guys stirred, whispered, and only Alka, who already knew this tale, sat quietly alone.

“But… did you guys see the storm? Just like the thunders, the military guns rumbled. Just like lightning, fiery explosions flashed. Just like the winds, cavalry detachments burst in, and just like clouds, red banners swept through. This is how the Red Army advanced.
Have you seen torrential thunderstorms in a dry and hot summer? Just as the streams, running down from the dusty mountains, merged into turbulent, foamy streams, just at the first rumble of war, uprisings began to boil in the Mountain bourgeoisie, and thousands of angry voices responded from the Plain Kingdom, and from the Snow Kingdom, and from the Sultry State .
And the broken Chief Bourgeois fled in fear, loudly cursing this country with its amazing people, with its invincible army and with its unsolved Military Secret.
And Malchish-Kibalchish was buried on a green mound near the Blue River. And they put a big red flag over the grave. Steamboats are sailing - hello to Malchish!
Pilots are flying by - hello to Malchish!
Steam locomotives will run - hello to Malchish!
And the pioneers will pass - salute to the Malchish!

Here you guys, and the whole fairy tale.

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In those distant, distant years, when the war had just died down throughout the country, there lived and was Malchish-Kibalchish.

At that time, the Red Army drove the white troops of the damned bourgeois far away, and it became quiet in those wide fields, in green meadows where rye grew, where buckwheat bloomed, where among the dense gardens and cherry bushes stood the little house in which Malchish lived, nicknamed Kibalchish Yes, Malchish's father, and Malchish's older brother, but they didn't have a mother.

The father works - he mows hay. My brother works - he carries hay. Yes, and the Malchish himself either helps his father or his brother, or simply jumps and indulges with other boys.

Hop!.. Hop!.. Good! Bullets do not squeal, shells do not rumble, villages do not burn. No need to lie down on the floor from bullets, no need to hide in the cellars from shells, no need to run from fires into the forest. There is nothing to be afraid of the bourgeoisie. Someone to bow to the waist. Live and work - a good life!

One day - it was towards evening - Malchish-Kibalchish came out onto the porch. He looks - the sky is clear, the wind is warm, the sun sets behind the Black Mountains at night. And everything would be fine, but something is not good. Malchish hears, as if something is rattling, or something is knocking. It seems to the Malchish that the wind smells not of flowers from gardens, not of honey from meadows, but that the wind smells either of smoke from fires, or of gunpowder from explosions. He said to his father, and his father came tired.

What you? he says to Malchish. - These are distant thunderstorms thundering beyond the Black Mountains. These are the shepherds smoking bonfires across the Blue River, herds grazing and cooking dinner. Go, Boy, and sleep well.

Malchish left. Went to sleep. But he can't sleep - well, he can't fall asleep at all.

Suddenly he hears a clatter in the street, a knock at the windows. Malchish-Kibalchish looked, and he saw: a rider was standing at the window. The horse is black, the saber is light, the hat is gray, and the star is red.

Hey, get up! shouted the rider. - Trouble came from where they did not expect. The accursed bourgeois attacked us from behind the Black Mountains. Bullets are already whistling again, shells are already exploding again. Our detachments are fighting with the bourgeois, and messengers are rushing to call for help from the distant Red Army.

So the red-star rider said these disturbing words and sped away. And Malchish's father went up to the wall, took off his rifle, threw in his bag and put on a bandolier.

Well, - he says to his eldest son, - I sowed rye thickly - it is clear that you will have to harvest a lot. Well, - he says to Malchish, - I lived a cool life, and you, Malchish, will have to live quietly for me.

So he said, kissed Malchish warmly and left. And he had no time to kiss much, because now everyone could see and hear how explosions hum beyond the meadows and the dawns burn behind the mountains from the glow of smoky fires ...

A day passes, two passes. Malchish will come out onto the porch: no ... the Red Army will not be seen yet. The boy will climb onto the roof. All day from the roof does not get off. No, you can't see. He went to bed at night. Suddenly he hears a clatter in the street, a knock at the window. Malchish looked out: the same rider was standing at the window. Only the horse is thin and tired, only the saber is bent, dark, only the hat is shot through, the star is chopped, and the head is tied.

Hey, get up! shouted the rider. - It was half the trouble, and now the trouble is all around. Many bourgeois, but few of ours. Clouds of bullets in the field, thousands of shells on detachments. Hey, get up, let's help!

Then the elder brother got up and said to Malchish:

Farewell, Malchish... You are left alone... Cabbage soup in the cauldron, a loaf on the table, water in the springs, and your head on your shoulders... Live as best you can, but don't wait for me.

A day passes, two passes. Malchish is sitting by the chimney on the roof, and Malchish sees an unfamiliar rider galloping from afar.

The rider galloped to Malchish, jumped off his horse and said:

Give me, good Malchish, some water to drink. I didn’t drink for three days, I didn’t sleep for three nights, I drove three horses. The Red Army found out about our misfortune. The trumpeters blew on all signal trumpets. The drummers beat on all the loud drums. The standard-bearers unfurled all the battle banners. Rushing and galloping to the aid of the entire Red Army. If only we, Malchish, hold out until tomorrow night.

Tears Malchish from the roof, brought to drink. The messenger got drunk and rode on.

Here evening comes, and the Malchish went to bed. But the Boy can't sleep - well, what kind of dream is that?

Suddenly he hears steps on the street, a rustle at the window. Malchish looked and saw: the same man was standing at the window. That one, but not that one: there is no horse - the horse is gone, and there is no saber - the saber is broken, and there is no hat - the hat has fallen off, and he himself is standing - staggering.

Hey, get up! he shouted for the last time. - And there are shells, but the arrows are beaten. And there are rifles, but there are few fighters. And help is close, but there is no strength. Hey, get up, who else is left! If only we could stand the night and last the day.

Malchish-Kibalchish looked into the street: an empty street. The shutters do not slam, the gates do not creak - there is no one to get up. And the fathers left, and the brothers left - no one was left.

Only the Malchish sees that one old grandfather at a hundred years old has come out of the gate. Grandfather wanted to pick up a rifle, but he is so old that he won't pick it up. Grandfather wanted to fasten a saber, but he is so weak that he will not fasten. Then the grandfather sat down on the mound, lowered his head and began to cry.

It hurt then the Malchish became. Then Malchish-Kibalchish jumped out into the street and shouted loudly:

Hey, you boys, boys, babies! Or should we boys just play with sticks and jump rope? And the fathers are gone, and the brothers are gone. Or should we boys sit and wait for the bourgeoisie to come and take us to their damned bourgeoisie?

How did the little boys hear such words, how they will scream in all voices! Who runs out the door, who climbs out the window, who jumps through the wattle fence.

Everyone wants to help. Only one Malchish-Plokhish wanted to go to the bourgeoisie. But this bad guy was so cunning that he didn’t say anything to anyone, but pulled up his pants and rushed along with everyone, as if to help.

Boys fight from dark night to bright dawn. Only one Plokhish does not fight, but keeps walking and looking out for how to help the bourgeoisie. And Plokhish sees that there is a mass of boxes behind the hill, and black bombs, white shells and yellow cartridges are hidden in those boxes. Hey, Bad Boy thought, this is what I need.

Meanwhile, the Chief Burzhuin asks his bourgeois:

Well, bourgeois, have you achieved victory?

No, Chief Burzhuin, - the bourgeois answer, - we defeated our fathers and brothers, and our victory was completely, but Malchish-Kibalchish rushed to their aid, and we still can’t cope with him.

Then the Chief Burzhuin was very surprised and angry, and he shouted in a menacing voice:

Could it be that they could not cope with Malchish? Oh, you worthless cowards-bourgeoischi! How can you not break such a small one? Download quickly and don't come back without a win.

Here the bourgeois sit and think: what is it for them to do? Suddenly they see: Malchish-Plokhish crawls out from behind the bushes and straight to them.

Rejoice! he shouts at them. - It's all I, Bad Boy, did. I chopped wood, I hauled hay, and I set fire to all the boxes with black bombs, white shells and yellow cartridges. That's going to crash now!

The bourgeois were delighted then, they quickly enrolled Malchish-Plokhish in their bourgeoisie and gave him a whole barrel of jam and a whole basket of cookies.

The Malchish-Plohish sits, eats and rejoices.

Suddenly, the lit boxes exploded! And it sounded so loud, as if thousands of thunders struck in one place and thousands of lightnings flashed from one cloud.

Treason! shouted Malchish-Kibalchish.

Treason! - shouted all his faithful boys.

But then, because of the smoke and fire, a bourgeois force swooped in, and grabbed and twisted Malchish-Kibalchish.

They chained the Malchish in heavy chains. They put Malchish in a stone tower. And they rushed to ask: what will the Chief Bourgeois now order to do with the captive Malchish?

The Chief Bourgeois thought for a long time, and then he came up with and said:

We will destroy this Malchish. But let him first tell us the whole of their Military Secret. You go, bourgeois, and ask him:

Why, Malchish, did Forty Tsars and Forty Kings fight with the Red Army, fought, fought, but only crashed themselves?

Why, Malchish, are all the prisons full, and all the penal servitudes full, and all the gendarmes at the corners, and all the troops on their feet, but we have no rest either on a bright day or on a dark night?

Why, Malchish, accursed Kibalchish, and in my High Bourgeoisdom, and in another - the Plain Kingdom, and in the third - the Snow Kingdom, and in the fourth - Sultry State on the same day in early spring and on the same day in late autumn on different languages, but they sing the same songs, in different hands, but they carry the same banners, they speak the same speeches, they think the same and they do the same?

You ask, bourgeois:

Doesn't the Red Army have a military secret, Malchish?

And let him tell the secret.

Do our workers have foreign help?

And let him tell you where help comes from.

Isn't there, Malchish, a secret passage from your country to all other countries, on which, as they click on you, they respond to us, as they sing from you, so they pick up from us, what they say from you, about what we think about?

The bourgeois left, but soon returned back:

No, Chief Burzhuin, Malchish-Kibalchish did not reveal the Military Secret to us. He laughed in our face.

There is, - he says, - and a powerful secret in the strong Red Army. And whenever you attack, you will not win.

There is, - he says, - and innumerable help, and no matter how much you throw into prisons, you still don’t throw it, and you will have no rest either on a bright day or on a dark night.

There are, - he says, - and deep secret passages. But no matter how much you search, you still won't find it. And they would have found it, so don’t fill it up, don’t lay it down, don’t fall asleep. And I won’t say anything more to you, the bourgeois, but you damned ones yourself will never guess.

Then the Chief Bourgeois frowned and said:

Make, bourgeois, this secretive Malchish-Kibalchish the most terrible Torment that exists in the world, and extort from him the Military Secret, because we will have neither life nor peace without this important Secret.

The bourgeois have gone, but now they will not return soon.

They walk and shake their heads.

No, they say, our chief is Chief Burzhuin. He stood pale, Malchish, but proud, and he did not tell us the Military Secret, because he had such a firm word. And when we were leaving, he sank to the floor, put his ear to the heavy stone of the cold floor, and, would you believe it, O Chief Burzhuin, he smiled so that we, the bourgeois, shuddered, and we were afraid that he had not heard, how our inevitable death walks along the secret passages? ..

What country is it? - then exclaimed the surprised Chief Bourgeois. What kind of incomprehensible country is this, in which even such kids know the Military Secret and keep their firm word so firmly? Hurry up, bourgeois, and destroy this proud Malchish. Load up your cannons, take out your sabers, unfurl our bourgeois banners, because I can hear our signalmen trumpeting the alarm and our wavers waving their flags. It can be seen that we will now have not an easy battle, but a hard battle.

And Malchish-Kibalchish died...

But... did you guys see the storm? Just like the thunders, the military guns rumbled. Just like lightning, fiery explosions flashed. Just like the winds, cavalry detachments burst in, and just like clouds, red banners swept through. This is how the Red Army advanced.

Have you seen torrential thunderstorms in a dry and hot summer? Just as the streams, running down from the dusty mountains, merged into turbulent, foamy streams, just at the first rumble of war, uprisings began to boil in the Mountain bourgeoisie, and thousands of angry voices responded from the Plain Kingdom, and from the Snow Kingdom, and from the Sultry State .

And the broken Chief Bourgeois fled in fear, loudly cursing this country with its amazing people, with its invincible army and with its unsolved Military Secret.

And Malchish-Kibalchish was buried on a green mound near the Blue River. And they put a big red flag over the grave.

Steamboats are sailing - hello to the Malchish!

Pilots are flying by - hello to Malchish!

Steam locomotives will run - hello to Malchish!

And the pioneers will pass - salute to the Malchish!

I know I know! Now you will say that this fairy tale written by Arkady Gaidar is not called

Yes, it has a different name. But admit it, and you yourself remember by heart with all the details this difficult text: "A fairy tale about a military secret, Malchish-Kibalchish and his firm word"?

If you now say “Yes”, then I congratulate you! You have an excellent memory, which, unfortunately, most adults do not have. For example, I didn't remember.

But in the end, the content of the tale about Malchish Kibalchish is much more important than the name.

Just think: 100 years have passed!!! HUNDRED!!!

And there is no such country anymore. And we now perceive many things in a completely different way. And many moments they would not like to read in a fairy tale about Malchish Kibalchish.

But despite all this, the fairy tale about the brave Kibalchish lives on. And still, with bated breath, the kids are waiting for how the fight between Kibalchish and the bad guys will end.

It doesn't matter what their names are. It is important that they are against our Malchish. And we are still sad when Malchish Kibalchish dies. For 100 years, children have been reading this fairy tale. Despite the political system and beliefs. Believe, worry, grieve. And for some reason it seems to me that you, just like me, without any fear that they will not understand something, will read about the brave Malchish Kibalchish to your children. Otherwise, why are you here? 🙂

Arkady Gaidar

"A fairy tale about a military secret, Malchish-Kibalchish and his firm word"

Tell me, Natka, a fairy tale, - the blue-eyed girl asked and smiled guiltily.

Fairy tale? thought Natka. - I don't know fairy tales. Or not... I'll tell you Alkin's tale. Can? she asked the alerted Alka.

You can, - Alka allowed, proudly looking at the hushed Octobrists.

I will tell Alkin the story in my own words. And if I forgot something or say something wrong, then let him correct me. Well, listen!

“In those distant, distant years, when the war had just died down throughout the country, there lived and was Malchish-Kibalchish.

The father works - he mows hay. My brother works - he carries hay. Yes, and the Malchish himself either helps his father or his brother, or simply jumps and indulges with other boys.

Malchish left. Went to sleep. But he can't sleep - well, he can't fall asleep at all.

So the red-star rider said these disturbing words and sped away. And Malchish's father went up to the wall, took off his rifle, threw in his bag and put on a bandolier.

So he said, kissed Malchish warmly and left. And he had no time to kiss a lot, because now everyone could see and hear how explosions hum beyond the meadows and the dawns burn behind the mountains from the glow of smoky fires ... "

So I say, Alka? - Asked Natka, looking around the hushed guys.

So ... so, Natka, - Alka answered quietly and put his hand on her tanned shoulder.

Then the elder brother got up and said to Malchish:

Farewell, Malchish ... You are left alone ... Cabbage soup in the cauldron, a loaf on the table, water in the keys, and your head on your shoulders ... Live as you can, but don't wait for me.

A day passes, two passes. Malchish is sitting by the chimney on the roof, and Malchish sees an unfamiliar rider galloping from afar.

The rider galloped to Malchish, jumped off his horse and said:

Tears Malchish from the roof, brought to drink. The messenger got drunk and rode on.

Here evening comes, and the Malchish went to bed. But the Boy can't sleep - well, what kind of dream is that?

So I say, Alka? - Asked Natka to take a breath, and looked around.

More than one Octobrist listened to this Alka's tale. Who knows when, the entire pioneer Ioskino link crawled silently. And even the Bashkir Emine, who only barely understood Russian, sat thoughtful and stern. Even the mischievous Vlad, who was lying at a distance, pretending that he was not listening, actually listened, because he was lying quietly, not talking to anyone and not hurting anyone.

So, Natka, so ... Even better than that, - Alka answered, moving even closer to her.

- “Well ... The old grandfather sat down on the mound, lowered his head and cried.

It hurt then the Malchish became. Then Malchish-Kibalchish jumped out into the street and shouted loudly:

How did the little boys hear such words, how they will scream in all voices! Who runs out the door, who climbs out the window, who jumps through the wattle fence.

Meanwhile, the Chief Burzhuin asks his bourgeois:

Well, bourgeois, have you achieved victory?

No, Chief Burzhuin, - the bourgeois answer, - we defeated our fathers and brothers, and our victory was completely, but Malchish-Kibalchish rushed to their aid, and we still can’t cope with him.

Then the Chief Burzhuin was very surprised and angry, and he shouted in a menacing voice:

Could it be that they could not cope with Malchish? Oh, you worthless cowards-bourgeoischi! How can you not break such a small one? Download quickly and don't come back without a win.

Here the bourgeois sit and think: what is it for them to do? Suddenly they see: Malchish-Plokhish crawls out from behind the bushes and straight to them.

Rejoice! he shouts at them. - It's all I, Bad Boy, did. I chopped wood, I hauled hay, and I set fire to all the boxes with black bombs, white shells and yellow cartridges. That's going to crash now!

The bourgeois were delighted then, they quickly enrolled Malchish-Plokhish in their bourgeoisie and gave him a whole barrel of jam and a whole basket of cookies.

The Malchish-Plohish sits, eats and rejoices.

Suddenly, the lit boxes exploded! And it sounded so loud, as if thousands of thunders struck in one place and thousands of lightnings flashed from one cloud.

Treason! shouted Malchish-Kibalchish.

Treason! - shouted all his faithful boys.

But then, because of the smoke and fire, a bourgeois force swooped in, and grabbed and twisted Malchish-Kibalchish.

They chained the Malchish in heavy chains. They put Malchish in a stone tower. And they rushed to ask: what will the Chief Bourgeois now order to do with the captive Malchish?

The Chief Bourgeois thought for a long time, and then he came up with and said:

We will destroy this Malchish. But let him first tell us the whole of their Military Secret. You go, bourgeois, and ask him:

Why, Malchish, did Forty Tsars and Forty Kings fight with the Red Army, fought, fought, but only crashed themselves?

You ask, bourgeois:

Doesn't the Red Army have a military secret, Malchish? Let him tell the secret.

Do our workers have foreign help? And let him tell you where help comes from.

The bourgeois left, but soon returned back:

No, Chief Burzhuin, Malchish-Kibalchish did not reveal the Military Secret to us. He laughed in our face.

There is, - he says, - and a powerful secret in the strong Red Army. And whenever you attack, you will not win.

There is, - he says, - and innumerable help, and no matter how much you throw into prisons, you still don’t throw it, and you will have no rest either on a bright day or on a dark night.

Then the Chief Bourgeois frowned and said:

The bourgeois have gone, but now they will not return soon. They walk and shake their heads.

It's not secret... it's the Red Army galloping! - Karasikov, who could not bear the october, shouted enthusiastically.

And he waved his hand with an imaginary saber so belligerently that the same girl who until recently, jumping on one leg, fearlessly teased him “Karasik-rugasik”, looked at him with displeasure and, just in case, moved away.

Here Natka interrupted the story, because from afar there was a signal for dinner.

Tell me, - Alka said imperiously, angrily looking into her face.

Tell me, - Ioska, flushed, said convincingly. - We will quickly line up for this.

Natka looked around: none of the children got up. She saw many, many childish heads - blond, dark, chestnut, golden-haired. Eyes looked at her from everywhere: big, brown, like Alka's; clear, cornflower blue, like that blue-eyed woman who asked for a fairy tale; narrow, black, like Emine's. And many, many other eyes - usually cheerful and mischievous, but now thoughtful and serious.

Okay guys, I'll tell you.

“... And we became afraid, Chief Bourgeois, that he hadn’t heard our inevitable death walking through the secret passages? ..

What country is it? - then exclaimed the surprised Chief Bourgeois. - What kind of incomprehensible country is this, in which even such kids know the Military Secret and keep their firm word so tightly? Hurry up, bourgeois, and destroy this proud Malchish. Load up your cannons, take out your sabers, unfurl our bourgeois banners, because I can hear our signalmen trumpeting the alarm and our wavers waving their flags. It can be seen that we will now have not an easy battle, but a hard battle.

And Malchish-Kibalchish died ... "- said Natka.

At these unexpected words, the face of the Octobrist Karasikov suddenly became sad, bewildered, and he no longer waved his hand. The blue-eyed girl frowned, and Ioska's freckled face became angry, as if he had just been deceived or offended. The guys stirred, whispered, and only Alka, who already knew this tale, sat quietly alone.

And the broken Chief Bourgeois fled in fear, loudly cursing this country with its amazing people, with its invincible army and with its unsolved Military Secret.

And Malchish-Kibalchish was buried on a green mound near the Blue River. And they put a big red flag over the grave.

Steamboats are sailing - hello to the Malchish!

Pilots are flying - hello to Malchish!

Steam locomotives will run - hello to Malchish!

And the pioneers will pass - salute to the Malchish!

Here you guys, and the whole fairy tale.

Arkady Petrovich Gaidar

The tale of military secrets, of Malchish-Kibalchish and his firm word

In those distant, distant years, when the war had just died down throughout the country, there lived and was Malchish-Kibalchish.

The father works - he mows hay. My brother works - he carries hay. Yes, and the Malchish himself either helps his father or his brother, or simply jumps and indulges with other boys.

Malchish left. Went to sleep. But he can't sleep - well, he can't fall asleep at all.

So the red-star rider said these disturbing words and sped away. And Malchish's father went up to the wall, took off his rifle, threw in his bag and put on a bandolier.

A day passes, two passes. Malchish will come out onto the porch: no ... the Red Army will not be seen yet. The boy will climb onto the roof. All day from the roof does not get off. No, you can't see.

He went to bed at night. Suddenly he hears a clatter in the street, a knock at the window. Malchish looked out: the same rider was standing at the window. Only the horse is thin and tired, only the saber is bent, dark, only the hat is shot through, the star is chopped, and the head is tied.

Then the elder brother got up and said to Malchish:

Farewell, Malchish ... You are left alone ... Cabbage soup in the cauldron, a loaf on the table, water in the keys, and your head on your shoulders ... Live as you can, but don't wait for me.

A day passes, two passes. Malchish is sitting by the chimney on the roof, and Malchish sees an unfamiliar rider galloping from afar.

The rider galloped to Malchish, jumped off his horse and said:

Tears Malchish from the roof, brought to drink. The messenger got drunk and rode on.

Here evening comes, and the Malchish went to bed. But the Boy can't sleep - well, what kind of dream is that?

It hurt then the Malchish became. Then Malchish-Kibalchish jumped out into the street and shouted loudly:

How did the little boys hear such words, how they will scream in all voices! Who runs out the door, who climbs out the window, who jumps through the wattle fence.

Meanwhile, the Chief Burzhuin asks his bourgeois:

Well, bourgeois, have you achieved victory?

No, Chief Burzhuin, - the bourgeois answer, - we defeated our fathers and brothers, and our victory was completely, but Malchish-Kibalchish rushed to their aid, and we still can’t cope with him.

Then the Chief Burzhuin was very surprised and angry, and he shouted in a menacing voice:

Could it be that they could not cope with Malchish? Oh, you worthless cowards-bourgeoischi! How can you not break such a small one? Download quickly and don't come back without a win.

What is this Malchish-Kibalchish? From what hangover, sorry? And you read in French the caption on the police photograph.

"Kibalchish", yes, that's how they wrote and pronounced his surname in French, i.e. in the language in which he himself thought and wrote, Viktor Lvovich Kibalchich (1890 - 1947), aka Viktor Serge, Arkady Gaidar's elder friend and political mentor.

Viktor Kibalchich was born in Brussels into a family of revolutionary emigrants from Russia. Father Lev Kibalchich was a non-commissioned officer of the Russian Horse Guards and was a member of the military organization Narodnaya Volya. His distant relative was the revolutionary and inventor N. I. Kibalchich. Victor's parents "wandered between London, Paris, Switzerland and Belgium in search of daily bread and good libraries

The national hatred in the Russian Federation for the descendant of Arkady Gaidar in our time has prompted active and inquisitive people to delve into the punitive exploits of his ancestor during the civil war, as a result of which many have such a logical picture of the Adams family ... sorry ... well, freaks anyway. However, life is more difficult. It's one thing if you serve as Chikatil / Himmler from childhood to death, another thing is when you were fooled and tied with blood as a teenager, and then it began to reach you. After all, Arkady Gaidar had gone mad, the executed were constantly coming to him in his dreams. And the fact that he was not afraid to leave in one of his texts - which all actually tell children about the ideal, "correct", devoted revolution - the name of one of the main, and most effective, enemies of Stalinism, albeit in such an encrypted form - says about the character of the author and his understanding of the surrounding reality. He wanted to tell us, future readers, something about himself - it's like a letter from a sunken ship in a corked bottle.

So, Victor Serge (Kibalchich). He was a genius, although not always kind. But we, without noticing it, live in the paradigm formed by him.

It was he who coined the word "totalitarianism" and developed the whole concept. Before the war. On the example of the Stalinist USSR. Then it was only finalized; Nazi Germany was built into a ready-made context.

It was he who introduced into French the special meaning of the word Résistance, and the whole concept. The French Resistance was built into a ready-made (in French culture) context. And yes, initially the concept referred to resistance to Stalinism.

I do not remember other examples when international solidarity snatched an already arrested person from the Stalinist regime. His relatives, of course, were killed, but they managed to pull him out with his wife and children.

The correct understanding of what the shooting of the Kronstadt uprising turned out to be for the Russian revolution is from him, he was the first to explain the historical significance. Trotsky did not like him very much for this (Natalya Sedova reconciled with him after the death of her husband, because Serge turned out to be the first fundamental researcher of Trotsky - Deutscher was later).

He was the first to explain the Stalinist processes objectively and with full knowledge of the matter; it became the basic, unrevised material of any course in the history of the Soviet period.

I think that I still don’t know everything, it was all too under the carpet (Spain, for example - he tried to explain to the POUM what Stalin was doing there). But one thing I especially liked about his biography. Why do you think Daniil Kharms was so advanced, not provincial at all. After all, he became a figure of world literature because he took a step forward from his contemporary level of European modernism. Here you read, say, Zoshchenko, Daniil Andreev - it just hurts, smart people inventing a litwheel. How did Kharms know at such a level, alive? Yes, from there. He was introduced to all this by Victor Serge, who was an active participant in the literary process in Europe (later, when they had to flee from the Nazis, the Serge family sailed away on the same philosophical ship from Marseilles as Andre Breton and Claude Lévi-Strauss).

Here is such a Kibalchish, yes.