Retelling plan

1. The narrator's quarrel with his nephew.
2. The boy is eager to receive gifts from his uncle, but he does not want to spoil him.
3. The child does not respond to the comments of adults, playing a noisy game. Uncle punishes him. The boy is crying.
4. When he calms down, the adults convince him that he should ask his uncle for forgiveness. The boy is relentless.
5. The boy softens, and his uncle shows him how to write numbers.

retelling
I

The narrator recalls a quarrel with his nephew. The boy is a big jerk. Usually, after a wildly spent day, he comes up, presses against his shoulder, and one kind word is enough for him to forget all insults and rush to kiss and hug his uncle.

But this time there was too much quarrel. And the boy did not dare to come close, but only wished "good night" and shuffled his foot like a very well-mannered child. But “having suffered his grief”, forgetting the grievances, the boy again asked to show him the numbers: “Uncle, forgive me ... I won’t do it anymore ... And, please, still show me the numbers! Please!" Uncle hesitated to answer.

On this day, the boy woke up with a new dream: “to have his own picture books, a pencil case, colored pencils - certainly colored ones! - and learn to read, draw and write numbers. And all this at once, in one day, as soon as possible.

Waking up, he immediately called his uncle to him and "fell asleep with ardent requests." Tom did not want to go to the city, and he began to come up with various reasons for not doing this, promising to buy everything tomorrow. The heart suggested that one should not refuse and deprive the child of joy, but a rule popped up in my head that one should not spoil children either. The boy got excited and boldly threatened: "Remember this for yourself." All day he behaved very badly.

In the evening, when grandmother, mother and uncle gathered for tea, the boy found another outlet for his emotions.

He came up with a wonderful game: "jump, kick with all his might on the floor and at the same time scream so loudly that our eardrums almost burst." The boy did not respond to the requests of his grandmother and mother. Then his uncle reprimanded him. But the boy in response jumped even stronger and shouted even more piercingly. Uncle pretended not to notice him anymore. This is where the story begins. The boy shouted again and with such divine joy that "the Lord God himself would have smiled at this cry." But my uncle jumped up from his chair in a rage and shouted at the top of his voice: “Stop it!”

The boy's face contorted for a moment in horror, but to hide it, he kicked the floor again miserably. Uncle rushed to him and pulled his hand so that the boy turned over like a top, slapped him and, pushing him out of the room, closed the door.

From resentment and unexpected insult, the boy "rolled up in such a terrible, such a piercing viola, which no singer in the world is capable of." The boy screamed, sobbed, asked for help, but the adults were inexorable. Grandmother could hardly hold back her tears and the desire to run into the nursery.

Exhausted by his sobs, reveled in his childish grief, with which, perhaps, not a single human grief can be compared, he calmed down.

The uncle kept his temper and half an hour later, after the child had calmed down, looked into the nursery. The boy sat on the floor, twitching with sighs, and played. Uncle's heart sank, but he didn't show it. The child raised his head and looked with eyes full of contempt: “Now I will never love you again!” Then he threatened his uncle that he would not buy anything for him and would even take away the Japanese penny he had once been given. To which the uncle replied: “Please!”

Then the grandmother and mother came to the boy. They said that it is not good when children grow up naughty, they advised the boy to go to his uncle and ask for forgiveness. But the child persisted, and then everyone pretended to have forgotten about him.

Uncle was worried and decided to wander around the city. The grandmother began to shame the boy, then, after a pause, "hit the most sensitive string" of his heart. She said: “Who will buy you a pencil case, papers, a picture book? And the numbers? This crushed the boy's pride. The adults made him reconcile, if he did not want to endure. And he reconciled.

Coming out of the nursery, the boy asked his uncle for forgiveness, begged him to give at least a drop of happiness, which he so longs for. Uncle scolded him a little more and agreed. The boy's eyes shone with great joy. With extraordinary diligence, he began to write out the numbers: one ... two ... five ... Meanwhile, my uncle enjoyed the joy of the child, looking at him with tenderness.

The story is written in the form of a confession of an adult man to a little boy. Once the author had a serious quarrel with his nephew Zhenya. In this work, he refers specifically to him, trying to explain to both the boy and himself why he behaved this way at that moment.

Ivan Bunin "Numbers". Summary of chapters 1-2

The author calls the boy a naughty boy who tirelessly screams and runs around all the rooms from morning to night. But the more touching he, an adult, sees those moments when the child, having calmed down, clings to him, or when he impulsively kisses him after reconciliation. By evening, the boy apologized to his uncle and asked to show him the numbers after all. In the morning, the kid was on fire with the desire to buy a pencil case for him, write out a children's magazine. But my uncle was not in the mood to go to the city to acquire all this. He said that today is the royal day, everything is closed. Then the boy asked at least to show the numbers.

Perhaps the baby will not remember when he grows up, how he once left the dining room with a very sad face after a quarrel with his uncle.

I. A. Bunin "Numbers". Summary of chapter 3

In the evening, the restless Zhenya came up with a new game for himself: to bounce and at the same time scream loudly to the beat. Mom and grandma tried to stop him, but he did not react. Boldly responded to the remark of his uncle. He barely restrained himself from flaring up. But after another jump and scream, the uncle broke loose, yelled at the boy, grabbed his hand, slapped him and pushed him out of the room.

From pain and insult, Zhenya began to yell outside the door. First with pauses, then incessantly and with sobs. Then he began to simply play on feelings, to call. Uncle said that nothing would happen to him, my mother tried to be cool. Only grandmother's lips trembled, she turned away from everyone, but she braced herself, did not go to help. Zhenya realized that adults also decided to stand their ground. He could no longer cry, his voice was hoarse, but he continued to scream anyway. Already my uncle wanted to open the door to the nursery and stop these sufferings with one ardent word. But this is not consistent with the rules of adult behavior. Finally, the boy calmed down.

Uncle could not stand it and looked into the room, pretending to be looking for a cigarette case. Zhenya played on the floor with empty matchboxes. He raised his head and told his uncle that he would never love him again. Mom and grandmother also went to him and taught that it was not good to behave like that, you had to ask your uncle for forgiveness, otherwise he would leave for Moscow. But Gene didn't care. The adults began to ignore him again.

Summary of “Numbers” by Bunin I. A .: Chapter 6

It was already dark in the nursery. Zhenya continued to shift the boxes on the floor. Grandmother began to whisper to him that he was shameless, that his uncle would not only not buy gifts for him, but most importantly, he would not show the numbers. This pissed off Zhenya. There were sparks in his eyes. He asked to start soon. But my uncle was in no hurry.

Summary of “Numbers” by Bunin I. A .: Chapter 7

Zhenya finally apologized to his uncle, said that he also loved him, and he had mercy and ordered pencils and paper to be brought to the table. The boy's eyes shone with joy, but there was also fear in them: what if he changes his mind. With pleasure, under the supervision of his uncle, Zhenya deduced his first numbers on paper.

Bunin Ivan Alekseevich
The work "Numbers"

“My dear, when you grow up, will you remember how one winter evening you went out of the nursery into the dining room - this was after one of our quarrels - and, lowering your eyes, made such a sad face? You're a big naughty, and when something captivates you, you don't know how to hold back. But I don’t know anyone more touching than you, when you quiet down, come up and cling to my shoulder! If this happens after a quarrel, and I say an affectionate word to you, how impetuously you kiss me, in excess of devotion

And tenderness, which only childhood is capable of! But it was too big a fight.”
That evening, you didn’t even dare to approach me: “Good night, uncle,” you said and, bowing, shuffled your foot (after a quarrel, you wanted to be a particularly well-bred boy). I answered as if there was nothing between us: "Good night." But could you be satisfied with that? Forgetting the offense, you again returned to the cherished dream that captivated you all day: “Uncle, forgive me. I won't do it again. And please show me the numbers!” Was it possible to delay the answer after that? I hesitated, because I am a very smart uncle.
That day you woke up with a new dream that captured your whole soul: to have your own picture books, pencil case, colored pencils and learn to read and write numbers! And all this at once, in one day! As soon as you woke up, you called me into the nursery and bombarded me with requests: to buy books and pencils and immediately take up the numbers. “Today is the royal day, everything is locked up,” I lied, I really did not want to go to the city. “No, not royal!” you shouted, but I threatened, and you sighed: “Well, what about the numbers? Is it possible, after all?” “Tomorrow,” I snapped, realizing that by doing so I deprive you of happiness, but you are not supposed to spoil children.
“Well, well!” you threatened, and as soon as you got dressed, muttered a prayer and drank a cup of milk, began to play pranks, and it was impossible to appease you all day. Joy, mixed with impatience, worried you more and more, and in the evening you found a way out for them. You started jumping up and down, kicking the floor with all your might and screaming loudly. And you ignored your mother's remark, and grandmother's, and in response to me you shouted especially piercingly and hit the floor even harder. And this is where the story begins.
I pretended not to notice you, but inside I went cold from sudden hatred. And you shouted again, completely surrendering to your joy so that the Lord himself would have smiled at this cry. But I jumped out of my chair in a rage. How horrified your face is! You shouted again in confusion, in order to show that you were not afraid. And I rushed to you, pulled your hand, slapped you hard and with pleasure, and, pushing you out of the room, slammed the door. Here are the numbers for you!
From pain and cruel resentment, you rolled up with a terrible and piercing cry. One more time, one more time Then the screams flowed incessantly. Sobs were added to them, then cries for help: “Oh, it hurts! Oh, I'm dying!" “You probably won’t die,” I said coldly. “Scream and shut up.” But I was ashamed, I did not raise my eyes to my grandmother, whose lips suddenly trembled. “Oh, grandma!” you called to the last resort. And my grandmother, for the sake of me and my mother, fastened, but barely sat still.
You understood that we decided not to give up, that no one would come to comfort you. But it was impossible to stop screaming at once, if only because of pride. You were hoarse, but you kept screaming and screaming. And I wanted to get up, enter the nursery like a big elephant and stop your suffering. But is this consistent with the rules of upbringing and with the dignity of a just, but strict uncle? Finally you are quiet.
Only half an hour later I looked into the nursery, as if on extraneous business. You sat on the floor all in tears, sighed convulsively and amused yourself with your unpretentious toys - empty boxes of matches. How my heart sank! But I barely looked at you. “Now I will never love you again,” you said, looking at me with angry, contemptuous eyes. And I will never buy you anything! And even the Japanese penny, which I then gave, I will take away!”
Then my mother and grandmother came in, and also pretending that they had entered by chance. They started talking about bad and naughty children, and advised to ask for forgiveness. “Or I’ll die,” my grandmother said sadly and cruelly. “And die,” you replied in a gloomy whisper. And we left you, and pretended to have completely forgotten about you.
Evening fell, you still sat on the floor and moved the boxes. It became painful for me, and I decided to go out and wander around the city. “Shameless! Grandma whispered then. "Uncle loves you!" Who will buy you a pencil case, a book? And the numbers? And your pride was broken.
I know that the more my dream is dear to me, the less hope I have of achieving it. And then I'm cunning: I pretend to be indifferent. But what could you do? You woke up filled with a thirst for happiness. But life answered: “Be patient!” In response, you rampaged, unable to subdue this thirst. Then life struck with resentment, and you screamed about the pain. But even here life did not falter: “Humble yourself!” And you reconciled.
How timidly you left the nursery: “Forgive me, and give me at least a drop of happiness that so sweetly torments me.” And life took pity: "Well, give me pencils and paper." What joy your eyes shone with! How afraid you were to anger me, how greedily you hung on my every word! With what diligence you drew dashes full of mysterious meaning! Now I have enjoyed your joy. "One. Two. Five." - you said, with difficulty leading over the paper. “No, not like that. One two three four". “Yes, three! I know, ”you answered joyfully and printed three, like a large capital letter E.

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To look at the world through the eyes of a child, to understand what he dreams of, what feelings he feels, the story "Numbers" by Bunin will help. The work was written in 1906, a year after the death of the writer's only son, five-year-old Kolya. The story is permeated with great love for children, their sincerity, spontaneity, thirst for new discoveries.

main characters

Zhenya- an incredibly active, inquisitive, but at the same time a capricious and spoiled boy with a sensitive loving heart.

Uncle- Zhenya's uncle, acts as a narrator. A reserved man who loves his nephew very much, but is afraid to spoil him.

Other characters

Zhenya's mom- acts on the side of his brother, and tries to support his methods of education.

Zhenya's grandmother- a loving woman who cannot calmly look at the mental suffering of a child, even if he is punished according to his deserts.

Chapter I

An uncle shares with his nephew memories of a long-standing major quarrel between them, when he was still a little boy.

Zhenya is a “big naughty man”, ready to frolic without restraint from morning to night. Quarrels often break out between him and his uncle, but they quickly reconcile and forget mutual grievances. However, this conflict took on a completely different scale, and its quick resolution was impossible.

Chapters II-III

Zhenya desperately dreams of learning how to write numbers. He wakes up in a good mood, anticipating an interesting pastime full of amazing discoveries. The boy asks his uncle to go to the store and buy everything he needs: a children's magazine, paper and colored pencils.

However, uncle is too lazy to leave the house, and he finds a suitable excuse - "Royal Day!". Zhenya is indignant at this state of affairs, because he wants to write numbers here and now, and no royal day will give him a decree. But the beloved uncle flatly refuses to compromise, and agrees to teach his nephew the numbers the next day.

Realizing that he will not achieve anything from a stubborn adult, the boy decides to take revenge on him properly and with a vengeance takes on pranks. Running around the house, Zhenya finds a new entertainment, which is to "jump, kick the floor with all his might and scream loudly at the same time."

The mother and grandmother of the naughty are the first to not withstand such an attack. They ask Zhenya to calm down, but he does not pay any attention to them, because he has one goal - to annoy the intractable uncle. And he soon succeeds. Uncle yells at the prankster, spanks him and locks him in the nursery.

Chapters IV-V

From the "sharp and sudden insult" Zhenya begins to scream piercingly at the highest note. Tired of screaming and sobbing, he resorts to more effective manipulation, pretending to be dying. However, even this measure has no decisive effect on adults.

Then Zhenya grabs the last chance and starts calling for her grandmother, whose heart can hardly stand such a test. But, without waiting for consolation in the face of his grandmother, the boy calms down.

After some time, the uncle comes into the nursery to make sure that Zhenya is all right. But, in order to withstand the character, he does not pay any attention to the prankster, but pretends to be looking for a cigarette case.

Wanting to punish his uncle as painfully as possible for his indifference, Zhenya promises that she will never love him again. Moreover, he even threatens to take away from him the “Japanese penny”, which he gave him as a sign of special favor.

The mother and grandmother ask the boy to reconcile with his uncle, but he does not agree, and the adults leave him alone.

Chapters VI-VII

Before going to bed, the grandmother once again persuades her grandson to ask for forgiveness from his uncle. Failing to succeed, she sets in motion heavy artillery and reminds the boy that if he does not make peace with his uncle, he will never teach him how to write numbers.

In the morning, Zhenya, "exhausted by the struggle for happiness", timidly asks his uncle's forgiveness for his disgusting behavior yesterday. Finally, peace and harmony reign between them, and they get to work.

The boy, with undisguised pleasure and great diligence, deduces the numbers, while the uncle, who no longer needs to keep the brand of a strict and demanding adult, rejoices in their rapprochement. He inhales with pleasure the smell of his beloved nephew's hair, because children's hair smells so wonderful, "just like little birds."

Conclusion

With his book, Bunin clearly demonstrates how important mutual understanding between adult children is. It is necessary to encourage the curiosity of the child in every possible way, but in no case should you indulge or indulge his whims. Only then will an educated and well-mannered person grow out of the baby.

The retelling of "Numbers" is useful both for the reader's diary and for preparing for a literature lesson.

Story test

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Retelling rating

Average rating: 4.7. Total ratings received: 1736.

In the story "Numbers" Bunin describes a quarrel between a little restless boy Zhenya and his uncle. The story begins with a scene of forgiveness, when a little boy, having looked at his uncle in the evening before going to bed, wishes him good night and, unable to resist, turns to his uncle with a request that has tormented him for so long. “And please, show me the numbers!” Zhenya exclaims, full of fear that the strict uncle might refuse again. The uncle is slow to answer because he is "very, very smart."

Zhenya is not just a boy, he is a happy owner of wonderful things, picture books, a pencil case, and of course colored pencils. In the morning, barely opening his eyes, little Zhenya called his uncle into his bedroom, bombarding the adult with requests. The boy wanted to get down to numbers as soon as possible, to get a children's magazine, books, pencils and paper.

My uncle didn't want to shop. That is why he lied about the royal day to Zhenya. Royal day, everything is locked up, he told his nephew. Zhenya did not agree with his uncle, but nevertheless gave in, because his uncle threatened that if Zhenya would bother with requests, he would not receive anything at all.

Although shops are closed on royal day, there is no such decree forbidding boys to show numbers on royal days. Here Zhenya's grandmother intervened in the conversation. She told her grandson not to pester his uncle, otherwise a policeman would come after them and arrest those who decided to show the numbers on the royal day. Uncle resolutely dismissed such a statement and simply admitted to Zhenya that now he was reluctant to deal with numbers. In the evening or tomorrow, better tomorrow, he will definitely take time for his nephew and introduce Zhenya to the numbers.

Zhenya was skeptical about such a promise. In the end, who knows how long that long-awaited tomorrow can last. No, the boy decided, he needed the numbers today. Uncle saw how the boy was exhausted on the threshold of a great discovery, waiting for a wise guide, ready to show him the new world. And the guide, it turns out, is not in the spirit of showing numbers. In addition, the uncle decided firmly, and it is not supposed to indulge children with concessions.

Zhenya was not himself all day. It was impossible to take him down. He ran around the house, overturned chairs, shouted, dangled his legs at dinner. Joy, mixed with impatience, turned into an evil prank that caused a quarrel between the boy and his uncle.

Sitting at evening tea, Zhenya came up with a new game. The boy jumped up and down, kicked the floor and shouted so loudly that the adults sitting at the table “almost burst their eardrums.” Zhenya was repeatedly asked to stop the fun, but will a child listen, all in anticipation of a joyful tomorrow. Therefore, when once again Zhenya shouted and kicked, the uncle took off, grabbed the boy, slapped him, spun him around his axis and pushed him out the door. At that moment, the devil himself doused the uncle with a whole bowl of anger.

Zhenya burst into tears. He cried plaintively and for a long time, but no one came up to him for the whole evening, neither his mother, nor even his grandmother, although she had the hardest time of all. The uncle himself looked into his nephew's room later, and the grown-up's heart sank at what he saw. Little Zhenya sat on the floor and played with empty matchboxes.

Gloomy and gloomy, in a voice hoarse from shouting, he declared that he did not love his uncle and would even take away the kopeck he was given. Attempts at reconciliation undertaken by Zhenya's mother and grandmother did not lead to anything. In the end, the adults pretended to forget about the offended child. But now, the wise grandmother found a way out. Who, she asked Zhenya, will show you the numbers. You can buy a pencil case and books, but you can't buy numbers for any amount of money. Zhenya was broken.

He reconciled with his uncle. Evening caught a smart adult and restless boy for a simple lesson. Zhenya, drooling over a pencil stub, drew magical mysterious numbers on paper, and uncle sat enjoying the joy of a boy, smelling the smell of children's hair. Zhenya constantly lost count, and the adult tirelessly corrected him and looked at how the boy was deducing the number three, "like a big capital E."