Summary of the story of IA Bunin “Figures”

Uncle remembers the quarrel with his little nephew, who appeared one winter night. Mentally turning to the boy, he tells him that he is a big naughty boy, who, after being carried away by something, does not know how to hold it. But nothing is more touching than the same baby, when he, being dishonored, will squeeze in the evening to the shoulder of an adult and wrap his neck around his arms with such tenderness that only childhood can do.

One morning the child woke up with a new thought that seized his whole soul. Just opened for him new uncharted joy – to have books with pictures, colored pencils, a pencil case and learn to draw, read and write numbers. And all this in one day, as soon as possible. Opening his eyes in the morning, he called his uncle in the nursery and immediately fell asleep with requests – to buy him a children’s magazine with pictures, books, pencils, paper and certainly set to work on figures.

My uncle lied that today is the royal

day – everything is locked, because he did not want to go into the city. My uncle was supported by my grandmother. The boy agreed with a sigh. Well, the tsarist is so royal, but can you show figures on a royal day?

Grandmother came here to help my uncle, who said that today he does not want to do this, and they will figure in tomorrow. The heart told the adult man that he was depriving the child of joy, but remembering that children can not be pampered, he severely cut off that this is the end of the conversation.

The whole day the boy was naughty and indulged, reminding his uncle that tomorrow he promised him to show figures. Uncle agreed with this. But the joy, mixed with impatience, excited the child more and more. He found an outlet for him completely unexpected, and it happened for evening tea.

The boy came up with an excellent game – to jump up, beat with all his strength feet in the floor and at the same time so loudly scream that adults almost bursted with eardrums.

Mom and grandmother asked him to stop doing this, but he did not listen to them. Uncle, too, said to him: “Stop

it!” The boy shouted back: “Stop it yourself!” and even more shouted and kicked his feet on the floor.

Uncle only pretended not to pay attention to it, but in fact everything froze from sudden hatred towards the child. Outwardly, he should have seemed calm and reasonable.

But the boy shouted again, and made it so full of life that the Lord God himself would have smiled upon hearing this. My uncle jumped up from his chair in a frenzy and yelled at the child to stop it. The face of the child was momentarily distorted by the lightning of horror, but he once again shouted, bewildered and sorry, only to show that he was not afraid.

Uncle, seized with anger, jumped up, tugged the child’s hand, firmly and with pleasure slapped him and pushed him out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Here are the numbers for you!

From pain and acute sudden insult, the child, being behind the door, rolled up with such a piercing viola, which no singer in the world was capable of. Then he took air in the lungs and raised the alt to an incredible height.

The screams flowed incessantly, sobs were added to them, to sobs – cries for help. The child’s consciousness began to clear up, and he began to play the role of a dying man, appealing to his mother.

My uncle said coldly, they say, you lie, you will not die, you will shout, and you will be silent.

But the child did not stop.

Her grandmother suddenly trembled her lips and brows, and she, turning away from the window, began to quickly pound a teaspoon on the table. Mom tried to be impartial, said that the child was spoiled and terribly spoiled, and got out her knitting.

The boy appealed to his last resort – to his grandmother. But she was in place to please my mother and uncle and was fastened.

The child realized that the adults decided not to give up. And there were not enough tears. But it was impossible to stop immediately, at least because of one self-esteem. It was already clear that I did not want to shout, but the boy kept shouting.

My uncle was already ready to enter the nursery and, with some kind of hot word, stop the boy’s suffering. But this was not consistent with the rules of reasonable upbringing.

At last the child fell silent…

Uncle still withstood the character, looking into the nursery in only half an hour. In the meantime, the child was returning to normal life. He was still sobbing and sighing, sitting on the floor and placing toys in one, only known order to him.

Uncle’s heart contracted at the sight of this, but he, hardly glancing at the boy, pretended that their relationship was now interrupted. The boy suddenly looked up, looked at him with evil eyes and said in a hoarse voice that he would never love him again.

Then in the nursery, just like in the case, my mother and grandmother came in. They shook their heads and said that it is not good when children grow up disobedient, defiant and achieve that no one likes them. They advised the child to go and ask his uncle for forgiveness.

The child refused to do it. All adults pretended to forget about him.

The winter evening was behind the windows, and the room was gloomy and sad. The child was still sitting and rearranging the boxes. These boxes tormented his uncle’s heart, and he decided to wander around the city.

There was a whisper from my grandmother, who was reproaching the child. She said that his uncle loved him, carried toys and gifts. Then began to remind that the child is promised also books with pictures and a pencil case. Who will buy them now? And most importantly, who will show him the figures now?

Childish pride was defeated, the child was broken.

The boy timidly left the nursery and asked his uncle for forgiveness. My uncle made a pretended, touchy face. He said that he loves his boy, but he offends his uncle with his disobedience and does not like him. The child protested that this was not true, he loved his uncle, he loved him very much!

Uncle told him to take pencils and paper and sit down at the table.

The child’s eyes gleamed with joy, he was afraid of anger the adult, he caught every word of his uncle. Deep breathing with excitement, he produced mysterious, filled with some divine significance of a line.

Now the uncle also enjoyed the joy of the child, feeling even the smell of children’s hair tenderly.

The child was taking out the numbers, barely leading a pencil stub out of the paper. Uncle corrected him. The child looked embarrassedly at the adult, carefully deducing the number 3 as a large capital letter E.

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Summary of the story of IA Bunin “Figures”