Porridge from an axe. Russian folktale

Porridge from an ax

The old soldier was on leave. I'm tired from the journey and want to eat. I reached the village, knocked on the last hut:

Let the dear man rest! The door was opened by an old woman.

Come in, servant.

Do you, hostess, have anything to snack on? The old woman had plenty of everything, but she was stingy with feeding the soldier and pretended to be an orphan.

Oh, good man, I myself haven’t eaten anything today: nothing.

Well, no, no, the soldier says. Then he noticed an ax under the bench.

If there is nothing else, you can cook porridge with an axe.

The hostess clasped her hands:

How can you cook porridge from an ax?

Here's how, give me the boiler.

The old woman brought a cauldron, the soldier washed the ax, lowered it into the cauldron, poured water and put it on the fire.

The old woman looks at the soldier, does not take her eyes off.

The soldier took out a spoon and stirred the brew. I tried it.

Well, how? - asks the old woman.

“It will be ready soon,” the soldier replies, “it’s just a pity that there is nothing to add salt to.”

I have salt, salt it.

The soldier added salt and tried it again.

Good! If only I could get a handful of cereal here! The old woman began to fuss and brought a bag of cereal from somewhere.

Take it, fill it up as needed. Seasoned the brew with cereal. I cooked, cooked, stirred, tried. The old woman looks at the soldier with all her eyes, and cannot look away.

Oh, and the porridge is good! - the soldier licked his lips. “If only a little butter would come here, it would be completely delicious.”

The old woman also found oil.

The porridge was flavored.

Well, old woman, now give me some bread and get to work with a spoon: let’s start eating porridge!

“I didn’t think that you could cook such a good porridge from an ax,” the old woman marvels.

The two of us ate porridge. The old woman asks:

Servant! When will we eat the axe?

“Yes, you see, it’s not cooked down,” the soldier answered, “I’ll finish cooking it somewhere on the road and have breakfast!”

He immediately hid the ax in his backpack, said goodbye to the hostess and went to another village.

That's how the soldier ate the porridge and took away the ax!

The Russian people have many tales about the brave soldier, savvy and enterprising. One of them is “Porridge from an axe”. An everyday tale about how a soldier deceived a greedy old woman. It seems like there is a moral in this fairy tale, that greed is a vice, that it is not good to be greedy, and in those ancient times soldiers were honored and respected as protectors. But think about it, why on earth would an old woman feed some lost soldier for free in difficult peasant times? Well, she lied that there was no food, or maybe she had the last handful of cereal and tomorrow the old woman will starve? I would say thank you for at least letting me spend the night. And in Afanasyev’s adaptation, the soldier also took the ax from the old woman for “breakfast”; this is basically robbery in broad daylight. Just don’t think of saying this to your teacher... We read the fairy tale and draw our own conclusions.

Porridge from an ax

Russian folktale

The old soldier was going home on leave. I got tired from the journey and wanted to eat. He reached the nearest village and knocked on the last hut:

Let the dear man rest!

The old woman opened the door:

Come in, servant...

Do you, hostess, have anything to snack on?

The old woman is rich, but stingy, you can’t beg for ice in winter:

Oh, good man, I haven’t eaten anything today myself... There’s nothing!

Well, there is no trial, says the soldier.

Then he noticed an ax without an ax under the bench:

If there is nothing else, you can cook porridge with an ax!

The hostess clasped her hands:

How can you cook porridge from an ax?

Give me the cauldron, I’ll show you how to cook porridge from an axe.

The old woman brought a cauldron. The soldier washed the ax, put it in the cauldron, poured water and put it on the fire. The old woman looks at the soldier, does not take her eyes off.

The soldier took out a spoon, stirred the brew, tried it...

Well, how? - asks the old woman.

“It will be ready soon,” the soldier answers. - It's a pity that there is no salt.

I have salt, salt it.

The soldier added salt and tried again:

Oh, if only I had a handful of cereal here!

The old woman brought cereal from the closet:

Well, here you go, fill it up as it should...

The soldier cooked and cooked, stirring the porridge with an axe. The old woman looks at her and can’t look away.

Oh, and good porridge! - the soldier praises. - If only there was a little butter here, it would be absolutely delicious!

The old woman also found oil. Oiled the porridge.

Well, take a spoon, mistress!

They began to eat the porridge and praise it.

I really didn’t think that you could cook such a mess with an axe! - the old woman marvels.

And the soldier eats and chuckles.

In this version of the tale, in my opinion, the soldier behaved more humanely. He did not call the old woman names and did not take the ax from her, but only cunningly lured food from the greedy granny :) And below is the same folk tale in the adaptation of another author - Afanasyev. There the soldier almost threw his fists at the old woman, called her names, took the ax away... In general, he did not show himself at his best. Who knows, maybe he behaved like an ordinary soldier of that time... But then the conclusions from the fairy tale are different.

Folk tale retold by A.N. Afanasyev

Porridge from an ax

A soldier came to the apartment and said to the landlady:
- Hello, God's old lady! Give me something to eat.
And the old woman answered:
- Hang it there on the nail!
- Are you completely deaf, why can’t you hear?
- Wherever you want, you can spend the night there!
- Oh, you old witch! I will cure your deafness! - And he climbed up with his fists. - Bring it to the table!
- No problem, darling!
- Cook the porridge!
- Yes, not from anything, darling!
- Give me an axe, I’ll cook it from an axe!
“What a miracle! - the woman thinks. “Let me see how a soldier cooks porridge with an ax!”
She brought him an ax; the soldier took it, put it in a pot, poured water and let it cook. He cooked and cooked, tried it and said:
- Everyone should have some porridge, just add a little grain!
Baba brought him cereal. He cooked and cooked again, tried it and said:
- It would be completely ready, if only it were seasoned with butter!
Baba brought him oil. The soldier cooked porridge:
- Well, old woman, now give me some bread and salt and get to work with a spoon: let’s start eating porridge!
The two of us sipped the porridge.
The old woman asks:
- Servant! When will we eat the axe?
“Yes, you see, it’s not cooked down,” answered the soldier, “I’ll finish cooking it somewhere on the road and have breakfast!”
He immediately hid the ax in his backpack, said goodbye to the hostess and went to another village.
That's how the soldier ate the porridge and took away the ax!

Brothers Grimm

Once upon a time there lived a girl. The girl went into the forest to pick berries and met an old woman there.

“Hello, girl,” the old woman told her. - Give me some berries, please.

One two Three,
Pot, cook!
and he will begin to cook delicious, sweet porridge. And you tell him:

One two Three,
Don't cook anymore!

And he will stop cooking.

“Thank you, grandma,” the girl said, took the pot and went home to her mother. The mother was delighted with this pot. And how can you not be happy? Without labor or hassle, delicious, sweet porridge is always ready for lunch.

One two Three,
Pot, cook!

It was necessary to say:

One two Three,
Don't cook anymore!

Yes, the mother forgot these words, and the girl was not at home. The pot cooks and cooks. The whole room is full of porridge, there’s porridge in the hallway, there’s porridge on the porch, there’s porridge on the street, and he cooks and cooks. The mother got scared and ran after the girl, so as not to get her across the road - the hot porridge was flowing like a river.

One, two, three, Don't cook anymore!

And the pot stopped cooking porridge. And he cooked so much of it that anyone who had to travel from the village to the city had to eat his way through the porridge.

But no one complained about it. The porridge was very tasty and sweet.

"Porridge from an axe"

The old soldier was going home on leave. I got tired from the journey and wanted to eat. I reached the village and knocked on the last hut:

Let the dear man rest!

The old woman opened the door:

Come in, servant...

Do you, hostess, have anything to snack on?

The old woman is rich, but stingy, you can’t beg for ice in winter:

Oh, good man, I haven’t eaten anything today myself... There’s nothing!

Well, there is no trial, says the soldier.

Then he noticed an ax without an ax under the bench:

If there is nothing else, you can cook porridge with an ax!

The hostess clasped her hands:

How can you cook porridge from an ax?

Give me the cauldron, I’ll show you how to cook porridge from an axe.

The old woman brought a cauldron. The soldier washed the ax, put it in the cauldron, poured water and put it on the fire. The old woman looks at the soldier, does not take her eyes off. The soldier took out a spoon, stirred the brew, tried it...

Well, how? - asks the old woman.

“It will be ready soon,” the soldier replies, “it’s a pity that there is no salt.”

I have salt, salt it.

The soldier added salt and tried again:

Oh, if only I had a handful of cereal here!

The old woman brought cereal from the closet:

Well, here you go, fill it up as it should...

The soldier cooked and cooked, stirring the porridge. The old woman looks at her and can’t look away.

Oh, and the porridge is good! - the soldier praises, - if only there was a little butter here, it would be absolutely delicious!

The old woman also found some butter and buttered the porridge.

Well, take a spoon, mistress!

They began to eat porridge and praise.

I really didn’t think that you could cook such a mess with an axe! - the old woman marvels.

And the soldier eats and chuckles.

"About porridge"

There lived an old man and an old woman, but they lived so poorly that they had absolutely nothing to eat. The old woman will light the stove, put an empty pot in the stove - big, big - and say:

Leisya, water, leisya, water.

Lo and behold, she already had a full pot of water. Here she says again:

Gusni, khryasni, gusni, khryasni (to make the porridge thicker, crunchier).

Here she has a full pot and is brewing some porridge. They will sit down and eat with grandfather.

One day my grandmother went to the village for a conversation. Grandfather sat and sat on the stove - he really wanted to eat porridge! He took it, lit the stove (like grandma did), put the empty pot in the stove and mashed it:

Leisya, water, leisya, water.

He said so much that the hut was full of water. And he forgot the second sentence. As I remembered, I immediately started to say:

Blast, honk, honk, honk, - he kept saying this for a long time. Everything in his hut had become rotten and stale, everything had become porridge, he was afraid.

The old man is sitting on the stove and doesn’t know what to do. He took a knife, took a log for splinters from the old woman, sits on the stove, makes a shovel: that’s how he eats porridge.

And at this time the old woman returned and was banging on the door (he had blocked the door).

Dedko, let me go!

He answers:

Wait, old woman, the hut is full of porridge.

The old woman behind the door is swearing.

Eh, old devil, open the door quickly!

Wait, old woman, I’ll make a shovel, I’ll shovel it, and you can come in and eat some porridge.

The old man ate porridge and ate it, but it didn’t go away. And the old woman is still sitting behind the door. The old woman is tired of waiting. He shouts again outside the door:

Open up, old devil, how long will I wait for you?

Wait, old woman, I’ll shovel a little and you’ll come in!

The old man ate how much he ate, and scooped up the rest with a shovel. The old woman went up to the old man on the stove. The old man made a shovel for the old woman and they began to eat porridge for a whole week.

"The Tale of Buckwheat Porridge"

One day a pig sat down at the table and wanted to eat a bowl of buckwheat porridge. A wolf slowly crept up behind him and wanted to eat a pig with buckwheat porridge.

And a tiger silently crawled up to him from behind, who wanted to eat the pig and the wolf with buckwheat porridge.

And a bear approached him from behind, who wanted to eat a pig, a wolf and a tiger with buckwheat porridge.

And an elephant approached him from behind (with cushions on his feet so as not to stomp), who wanted to eat a pig, a wolf, a tiger and a bear with buckwheat porridge.

And a small bee flew up to him from behind, sat on the elephant’s trunk and made scary eyes.

Oh, who is this?! - the elephant trumpeted.

Oh, who's here?! - the bear turned around and roared.

Oh, who's here?! - the tiger turned around and barked.

Oh, who's here?! - the wolf turned around and howled.

Oh, who's here?! - the piglet turned around and squealed.

Oh, mommies! - Buckwheat porridge was scared.

Oh! Oh! Oh!

And they all rushed out of fear into different stolons.

So that day no one ate anyone.

SWEET PORRIDGE (Brothers Grimm)

Once upon a time there was a poor God-fearing girl; She lived alone with her mother, and they had nothing to eat.

Then she went out into the forest and met there an old woman, who already knew in advance what her grief was. And that old woman gave her a pot, and such that he only had to say:

“Pot, cook!” - and he began to cook a wonderful, sweet porridge. And you tell him:

“Pot, it’s full!” - and he immediately stopped cooking.

The girl brought her pot to her mother’s house, and thus they were freed from hunger and poverty and could eat sweet porridge to their heart’s content.

It happened one day that the girl was not at home, and her mother took her and said:

“Pot, cook!” And he began to cook, and she ate her fill; then his mother wanted him not to cook anymore, but she forgot the word...

And the pot cooks and cooks:

the porridge is already overflowing, and he cooks everything; the kitchen and the whole house were already filled with porridge, and then the neighboring house and the whole street were filled with porridge, as if the pot was planning to cook porridge for the whole world.

And trouble came for everyone, and no one could help that trouble.

Finally, when out of the entire village only one house remained unfilled with porridge, the girl returned home and just said: “The pot is full!”

And I stopped cooking the pot...

And he made so much that if anyone had to go to the city from the village, he had to eat his way through the porridge!

Fairy tale “About porridge”

A long time ago there was a town where not people lived, but food. Everyone lived well here, except for the porridge. Everyone loved soup, compote, cutlets, and even mashed potatoes; they only disliked porridge. And how it was to love it, sometimes salty, sometimes sweet, sometimes liquid, sometimes burnt, sometimes half-raw.

The porridge grieved and grieved and she decided to go around the world to seek happiness. Here comes the porridge along the road, and it comes across a china shop. The porridge was glad that she could relax here and went into it. And there you’ve seen - never seen any dishes - aluminum, cast iron, enameled, whatever you want. The porridge began to tell the dishes about its grief, and the dishes said: “We will help you! Not all cookware is suitable for you, only those with a thick bottom and you won’t burn in it, choose cast iron cookware as your friends, and you will be friends.”

The porridge rested and moved on, walked and walked and saw the fire, the porridge greeted him and told him about her grief, and the fire said: “You need to be friends with me and you will always be tasty - neither burnt nor raw. After all, I am also cunning. I have to be quiet at the beginning - quiet until fully cooked. And it would be better for you to wrap yourself in a warm blanket after me and sit there until you are completely swollen.”

The mess brightened from the words of fire and moved on. She walked and walked and saw a house, and water and milk lived in it. Kasha came to them and asked which of them she should take as a friend. And they answer: “How to look. If you cook viscous and liquid porridge, take milk and water, and if you want to get crumbly porridge, which goes as a side dish, it’s better to use water. Of course, you can use just milk, but don’t forget, before you pour me into the cauldron, pour a little water at the bottom and let it boil, and then pour in the milk and you will never burn.”

The porridge thanked them too. I walked further, walked and walked, and saw a cereal shop. She went there, and there was rice, millet, pearl barley, and even Artek cereal. They sat the porridge down and began asking about her grief. The porridge told them everything, and they told her: “A lot depends on us, what kind of person you should be. We only need to be poured into boiling water, poured strictly according to the norm for each type of porridge.” - And they gave her a table of the norm for laying cereals as a souvenir, and showed her so that she would not forget: semolina must be dried on sheets in the oven before cooking, and buckwheat fry in a frying pan without fat: “And you will taste much better.”

The porridge said goodbye to them and decided to go home, and in front of them there was a tower, and sugar, salt and butter lived there. “Oh,” the porridge thinks, “I’ll go there, maybe they’ll recommend something.” I went to their mansion, they were delighted to have a guest there. They don’t know where to put her, and then they ask what business she has with them. They listened to the porridge and said: “You should have come to us.” We are the final touch to your deliciousness. Place sugar and salt in the liquid after boiling, but watch strictly according to the norm. And put butter in the finished porridge, but don’t be afraid, it’s not for nothing that people say: “You can’t spoil porridge with butter.”

The happy porridge left them and headed home. They say that since then she has had no end to clients.

They loved her. And it’s not for nothing that they say in Rus': “Shchi and porridge are our food”!

Buckwheat porridge is our mother, rye bread is our dear father!

The hero lived in the world,

He loved to eat buckwheat.

I ate a whole pot of iron,

I ate black bread.

Buckwheat is like my dear mother,

I'm weak without her.

Fragrant rye bread

Like a dear father to me!

Bogatyrskaya porridge

There was silence in the store. It was night outside, and all the products were dozing peacefully on their shelves.

The Cereal Fairy chose a secluded corner on one of the lower shelves and fell asleep sweetly. She woke up because a man was muttering in frustration:

Is there really not a single bag of buckwheat in this store, I really need it!

The fairy realized that it was already morning, and the first customer came to the store.

At this moment, the package on which the fairy was lying said with concern:

They placed me in an unfortunate place: here the buyer will not notice me! Dear fairy, move me closer to the edge.

The fairy pushed the package with all her might to the edge of the shelf, and it fell noisily to the floor.

This, it turns out, is where the buckwheat lies! - the buyer was delighted and froze in surprise when he noticed a little fairy near the bag of buckwheat.

I'm the cereal fairy, and I want to know why you need buckwheat so much? - the fairy asked politely.

“Nice to meet you,” the buyer replied. - My wife urgently needs buckwheat: after a serious illness, her hemoglobin has decreased, and buckwheat is the first among cereals in terms of iron content. Besides, it will add strength to my wife. People have long called buckwheat porridge heroic.

“I completely agree with you,” buckwheat entered the conversation. - I will certainly strengthen your wife’s health: in addition to iron, I also have potassium, phosphorus, and iodine.

“I bow to you for your benefit,” the buyer thanked, “but it’s time for me to go.” If you don't mind, I'll take you.

» » » A pot of porridge. Fairy tale of the Brothers Grimm

there was one girl. The girl went into the forest to pick berries and met an old woman there.

“Hello, girl,” the old woman told her. - Give me some berries, please.

Here, grandma,” says the girl. The old woman ate some berries and said:

You gave me berries, and I’ll give you something too. Here's a pot for you. All you have to do is say:

One two Three,
Pot, cook!

and he will begin to cook delicious, sweet porridge. And you tell him:

One two Three,
Don't cook anymore!

and it will stop cooking.

“Thank you, grandma,” the girl said, took the pot and went home to her mother.

The mother was delighted with this pot. And how can you not be happy? Without labor or hassle, delicious, sweet porridge is always ready for lunch.

One day a girl left the house somewhere, and her mother put the pot in front of her and said:

One two Three,
Pot, cook!

He started cooking. I cooked a lot of porridge. Mother ate and became full. And the pot cooks and cooks porridge. How to stop him?

It was necessary to say:

One two Three,
Don't cook anymore!

Yes, the mother forgot these words, and the girl was not at home. The pot cooks and cooks.

The whole room is full of porridge, there’s porridge in the hallway, there’s porridge on the porch, there’s porridge on the street, and he cooks and cooks.

The mother got scared and ran after the girl, so as not to get her across the road - the hot porridge was flowing like a river.

It’s good that the girl was not far from home. She saw what was happening on the street and ran home. Somehow she climbed onto the porch, opened the door and shouted:

One two Three,
Don't cook anymore!

And the pot stopped cooking porridge.

And he cooked so much of it that anyone who had to travel from the village to the city had to eat his way through the porridge.

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A pot of porridge

Once upon a time there lived a girl. The girl went into the forest to pick berries and met an old woman there.

“Hello, girl,” the old woman told her. - Give me some berries, please.

Here, grandma,” says the girl. The old woman ate some berries and said:

You gave me berries, and I’ll give you something too. Here's a pot for you. All you have to do is say:

and he will begin to cook delicious, sweet porridge. And you tell him:

and it will stop cooking.

“Thank you, grandma,” the girl said, took the pot and went home to her mother.

The mother was delighted with this pot. And how can you not be happy? Without labor or hassle, delicious, sweet porridge is always ready for lunch.

One day a girl left the house somewhere, and her mother put the pot in front of her and said:

One, two, three, pot, cook!

He started cooking. I cooked a lot of porridge. Mother ate and became full. And the pot cooks and cooks porridge. How to stop him?

It was necessary to say:

Yes, the mother forgot these words, and the girl was not at home. The pot cooks and cooks. The whole room is full of porridge, there’s porridge in the hallway, there’s porridge on the porch, there’s porridge on the street, and he cooks and cooks.

The mother got scared and ran after the girl, so as not to get her across the road - the hot porridge was flowing like a river.

It’s good that the girl was not far from home. She saw what was happening on the street and ran home. Somehow she climbed onto the porch, opened the door and shouted:

One, two, three, Don't cook anymore!

And the pot stopped cooking porridge. And he cooked so much of it that anyone who had to travel from the village to the city had to eat his way through the porridge.

But no one complained about it. The porridge was very tasty and sweet.

I reached the village and knocked on the last hut:
- Let the dear man rest!

- Come in, servant...
- Do you, hostess, have anything to snack on?
The old woman is rich, but stingy, you can’t beg for ice in winter:
- Oh, good man, I haven’t eaten anything today... There’s nothing!
“Well, there’s no trial,” says the soldier.

Then he noticed an ax without an ax under the bench:
- If there is nothing else, you can cook porridge with an ax!
The hostess clasped her hands:
- How can you cook porridge from an ax?

“Give me the cauldron, I’ll show you how to cook porridge from an ax.”
The old woman brought a cauldron. The soldier washed the ax, put it in the cauldron, poured water and put it on the fire.
The old woman looks at the soldier, does not take her eyes off.

The soldier took out a spoon, stirred the brew, tried it...

- Well, how? - asks the old woman.
“It will be ready soon,” the soldier answers, “it’s a pity that there is no salt.”
- I have salt, salt it.

- Oh, if only I had a handful of cereal here!
The old woman brought cereal from the closet:
- Well, here you go, fill it up as it should...

The soldier cooked and cooked, stirring the porridge. The old woman looks at her and can’t look away.
- Oh, and the porridge is good! - the soldier praises, - if only there was a little butter here, it would be absolutely delicious!
The old woman also found some butter and buttered the porridge.