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Kolobok
Specialization children's, musical
Periodicity 2 (1969), 4 (1970-1971), 6 (1972-1973, 1992), 12 (1974-1991) issues per year
Language Russian
A country USSR USSR→ Russia Russia
Publisher publishing house "Pravda" and the All-Union recording studio Melodiya
Publication history 1968-1992
Date of foundation 1968
Latest issue 1992
Web site %D1%81%D0%B0%D0%B9%D1%82<=>%5B>http:%E2%95%B1%E2%95%B1www.%D0%BA%D1%80%D1%83%D0%B3%D0%BE%D0%B7%D0%BE%D1%80 -%D0%BA%D0%BE%D0%BB%D0%BE%D0%B1%D0%BE%D0%BA.%D1%80%D1%84%E2%95%B1<%5D<)+%7D">or %D1%81%D0%B0%D0%B9%D1%82<=>%5B>http:%E2%95%B1%E2%95%B1www.krugozor-kolobok.ru%E2%95%B1<%5D<)+%7D">

According to the authors' plan, the sound magazine "Kolobok" introduced children to the history, culture, nature of the USSR, musical works, children's fiction, folklore. The magazine consisted of 20 pages, including covers (which also contained text) and 2 flexible double-sided records with a rotation speed of 33⅓ revolutions per minute, each no more than seven minutes of sound. On the pages of the magazine, printed text and illustrations are often organically linked with literary and musical tales, interludes, and so on recorded on flexible gramophone records. The pages of the magazine, to which audio tracks were attached, as in the “big brother” - the Krugozor magazine - were marked with a small icon: an audio disc indicating the number of a flexible gramophone record from the magazine, and the slogan was added: “See the picture, listen to the record.”

Floppy disks were initially printed on a special machine purchased in France. Since 1991, part of the circulation was released with an audio cassette, and since 1992 it was decided to abandon flexible records.

Story

From 1968 to 1992 it was published in Moscow with a frequency of 2 (1969), 4 (1970-1971), 6 (1972-1973, 1992) and 12 (1974-1991) issues per year [ ] as a children's supplement to the Krugozor magazine.

The growing popularity of the Krugozor magazine, which has been published monthly since 1964, despite an increase in circulation of over half a million copies, has firmly transferred it to the category of scarce goods in the USSR. At the end of the 60s of the twentieth century, he had an appendix - the children's illustrated magazine Kolobok. According to the Great Soviet Encyclopedia, in 1973 the circulation of the children's illustrated audio magazine “Kolobok” reached 200 thousand copies.

The sound magazine is addressed to preschool and younger children school age. A feature of “Kolobok” that distinguishes it from numerous children’s periodicals of that time is the presence in each issue of the magazine of two flexible gramophone records. A quarter of a million copies, which sell out instantly, eloquently speaks to the fact that young readers fell in love with the story-telling magazine, the theater magazine, and the music magazine. Literary hero children's illustrated sound magazine - Kolobok - a cheerful character, borrowed from one of the most popular Russian folk tales, tells readers and listeners instructive stories. Famous children's writers, poets, artists, composers, musicians and actors help him in this.

Since 1991, part of the circulation of the Kolobok magazine began to be published with an audio cassette, and since 1992, a decision was made to completely abandon the production of flexible gramophone records. In 1992, the magazine was closed due to financial difficulties.

Some headings

On the pages of the Kolobok magazine there are sections:

  • "Singing Pictures"
  • "Musical ABC"
  • "Know by heart"
  • “Once upon a time there was a song” and others.

MAGAZINE "KRUGOZOR"

April 2009 marks the 45th anniversary of the founding of the Krugozor magazine. This magazine was destined to become a sound chronicle of three decades of the past millennium. Everything in the world, as we know, changes; and can’t be found in the newsstands of the Krugozor magazine, there are almost no 33 rpm players, and what can I say – and the country that gave him life doesn’t exist...
However, our task is to convey to the reader and listener the magazine in its original form as a fact of our history. History never gets old. You can only know it or not know it. This is the choice of everyone. But for us personally, despite all the changes and upheavals, the connection between times has not been broken.
"Krugozor" is a monthly socio-political, literary and musical illustrated magazine with flexible plates. Published in the USSR in 1964-1991. Floppy disks were printed on a special machine purchased in France.
One of the founders of the magazine was Yuri Vizbor, who worked there for 7 years from the moment it opened. The name for the magazine was invented by the writer Lev Kassil (before that, in official documents the magazine was called “Impulse”). It was published State Committee The USSR Council of Ministers for Television and Radio Broadcasting in Moscow since 1964. The magazine was published by the Pravda publishing house and the All-Union Recording Studio. Since 1968, a children's supplement to Krugozor, Kolobok, has been published.
The theme of the magazine's issues was documentary, chronicle and artistic sound recordings, reproducing speeches of statesmen, public figures, masters of art, as well as the best examples of classical and contemporary art, folk art, the latest in literature, music, theater, and pop. The magazine constantly published songs performed by Soviet pop stars - I. Kobzon, V. Obodzinsky, S. Rotaru, A. Pugacheva and many others, popular VIA (“Pesnyary”, “Gems”, “Flame”, etc.) , and, in addition, many outstanding foreign performers, the demand for whose works in the Soviet Union significantly exceeded the supply.
Thematic and special issues of Krugozor were periodically published in Russian, English, German, Japanese and other languages. The first sound book in the USSR (about Lenin) was published by Krugozor.
The magazine had 16 pages, 4 cover pages, three of which also contained text, and 6 flexible double-sided plates with a rotation speed of 33? revolutions per minute.
The circulation in 1973 was 450 thousand copies, in 1983 - 500 thousand, and in the spring of 1991 - only 60 thousand copies. In 1992, the magazine was closed due to financial difficulties. An attempt is currently being made to create.

Krugozor No. 7 FOR 1967





Horizons of the 1970s.









We always looked forward to the new release of this wonderful
sound magazine and it never disappoints!

KOLOBOK
1988 1
children's magazine with records

Roman SEF
Father Frost

Outside the window
It was winter
Outside the window
Chalk blizzard.
It was all
White-white,
The snow was flying
And time passed...
I fell asleep,
And in a dream
Father Frost
Came to me.
He put
staff,
Took it off my shoulder
Big bag
And he told me:
- Happy New Year!
With new happiness,
my friend!
- Happy New Year,
Father Frost!
What do you mean to us
Did you bring it in a bag?
I heard that nowadays grandfathers
Give to everyone
Bicycles.
May be,
Stamp albums
You cooked
As a gift?
- Do not rush,-
Frost said,
I will answer
To the question.
I brought
In your bag:
Mountains,
Sea,
Sky,
Thunder,
Cities,
Villages,
Countries,
Rivers,
Groves,
Oceans -
All huge
White light,-
So that you can live
Many years.
And he brought it in addition
Happiness,
Courage,
Good luck,
Sun,
Wind,
Clouds...
And this Puppy.

Lev YAKOVLEV
On the rink

I'll slip, I'll fall,
I'll roll somersaults...
This is my first time on the ice -
Never mind, I'll learn!

Evgeniy USHAN
Snowfall

Snowfall, snowfall -
Dandelions are flying.
Winter, shiny,
Crispy under the skis.
Sharik gets stuck as he runs,
The puppy can't catch me -
Like red horses
Skis are racing across the snow.
Snowfall, snowfall -
Dandelions are flying.
Well, I drove into a snowdrift,
Only the skis stick up.

On the record you will hear the songs “SNOW TALE”, “WONDERFUL HOUSE”, “SNOWMAN”, “THREE-GRANDCHILDREN” by composers I. Kadomtsev and S. Sosnin with poems by poets P. Sinyavsky and V. Semernin.

listen to record 4
see picture

Artist N. Serebryakov

Evgeny PERMYAK
Mom's work

Petya's mother was a plasterer. She plastered houses. Petya had long wanted to see how this was done, but he never succeeded.
One day Mom said to Petya:
- Come out, son, to the balcony tomorrow. You will see how we will dress our old house in new clothes.
Petya didn’t understand how it was possible to dress a house in a dress, but he didn’t ask. “I’ll see for myself,” he decided to himself.
In the morning Petya ran out onto the balcony. He looks and another balcony has appeared nearby. Yes, not simple, but hanging. If you want, you will raise it, if you want, you will lower it.
And on the hanging balcony there is a mother with some girl.
“This is probably my mother’s assistant,” thought Petya.
Near the assistant stood a large wooden trough with gray dough. The girl took this dough with a small spatula and threw it on the wall of the house. And Petya’s mother smoothed it out evenly. Petya looked at his mother’s work for a long time until he saw that the gray dough on the wall had become hard and white.
Now Petya understands how they dress the house in dresses. He wanted to grow up quickly so that he could learn how to dress his home in beautiful clothes.
This is good work. Necessary.

Now put on the record. On it is another story by the writer Evgeny Permyak - about his mother. Events unfold in a snowstorm, in the Siberian steppe, where the children almost got lost.

listen to record 3
see picture

Artist A. Borisov

ABOUT MASTERS AND GOOD DEEDS

Igor MAZNIN
How Ivan Vasilyevich beat his head

Many years have passed since there lived in a Volga village one peasant named Ivan, and by his patronymic Vasilyevich, but even today, remembering him, people talk about him with exceptional respect.
And Ivan Vasilyevich was respected because all his life he... was a big deal. From year to year, from week to week, sometimes every other day, and sometimes all day long.
Well, Ivan Vasilyevich’s beating began with the fact that he took a small ax in his hand, and a sharp-toothed saw in the other, and set off along the silver path from the dew beyond the outskirts of the village into a birch grove. The birds knew Ivan Vasilyevich well, were not afraid of him and flew to the side only when Ivan Vasilyevich began to chop and saw the birch tree he had chosen in advance. Precisely a birch tree. After all, Ivan Vasilyevich loved the birch trees - the most suitable ones.
“The birch,” said Ivan Vasilyevich, breaking the sawn logs, “is an amazing tree: both cheerful and weeping, and for every occasion.”
Then, after a short silence, he would certainly add:
- And although there are no cones for squirrels on it, there are forty crafts hidden: cups, bowls, bowls, and spoons!..
After which Ivan Vasilyevich took out a sharp knife and barely audibly ordered him:
“Please, Mishka, don’t take too much!” - and began to prepare chicks for his crafts. That is, remove everything unnecessary from them: cut off knots, chop off slabs, uneven surfaces.
But it’s not enough to hollow out a cup from a birch tree or turn a spoon out of it - they also need to be made suitable for consumption. And the craftsmen came up with the idea of ​​coating wooden dishes with drying oil - boiled linseed oil, which makes the dishes impenetrable to anything liquid. In Ivan Vasilyevich’s house, this work, under his supervision, of course, as well as rubbing spoons with tin or bronze powder, painting and drying them in the oven, was done by his children - Tatyana and Vasilek. Many times - both during the day and at night - they placed the spoons they had made in the heated oven until they became smooth and shiny, lit up with gold, and the painting Tatyana made on them came to life: both fancy and bright, which Tatyana applied to father's spoons, thin and elastic - made from cat hair or squirrel tail - with a brush...
Ivan Vasilyevich’s wooden spoons came out of the hot oven light and comfortable and so amazingly beautiful that everyone always rejoiced at them with all their hearts.
The spoon craft, the master of which was the Volga peasant Ivan Vasilyevich, has not been forgotten even now. Only now wooden utensils - cups and bowls, bowls and spoons - are made not so much for consumption as in memory of a wonderful folk craft, for decorating our home. Imagine a ringing frosty morning and a table covered with a white tablecloth, like snow in a field, with wooden dishes placed on it. It shines like the sun and seems warm, which is why flowers bloom on it, grass rustles and berries ripen, and you look at them and remember the blue spring and hot summer.
And as for the expression “knock your socks off,” at that time it meant one thing: splitting aspen or birch logs and chocks to make small products from them. This work seemed so insignificant that over time the words “beating the buck” acquired a negative meaning. Therefore, when they say “knuckle down”, it means idleness, doing nothing.

Needed where was born
T. ROZHDESTVENSKAYA

Three pine trees grew in the field. But one day the lumberjacks came and began to cut down the trees. And they are happy. We are stagnant, they say, we will finally see the world.
“I want to become a home,” said one pine tree.
“And I’m a boat,” another dreamed.
Only the third pine was silent.
- What do you say, sister? - the pine trees began to ask her.
“Oh, friends,” sighed the third, “I can’t live without my native land.” Needed where was born.
- If so, goodbye.
And the beautiful pine trees dispersed and scattered around the world. It wasn’t long before they were called pine trees.
One, as I wanted, came in handy at the construction site. And they began to call the pine tree home.
Another one ended up on the lake. And they began to call the pine tree a boat.
Well, the third one, which remained in the field, still stands there to this day.
The wind carried and scattered its seeds. The youngsters rose to the sky.
And from then on people began to call this place a forest.

FOREST PATHS

T. NIKOLAEVA
A stack of hay

The morning was sunny, bright, but frosty. There’s nothing to be surprised about here - January is just around the corner! Kolobok put on a fluffy gray fur coat, a hat and mittens - also fluffy and gray. And he looked like... a cat! Just very round. I ran out into the yard - beauty! The snow creaks underfoot, as if singing a song. Kolobok ran along the path straight into the forest.
Suddenly Kolobok heard a squeak. Thin! Who is this? There is no one on the trees or on the bushes. I looked at my feet and saw a red mouse lying on the path. She apparently ran across the path and saw a cat. I fell over onto my back, paws up, saying I was lying there lifeless. Kolobok picked her up - the poor thing was frozen. And the vole mouse opened its eyes slightly and saw that in front of it was not a cat at all.
“It turns out you’re alive,” Kolobok was surprised.
“I mistook you for a cat,” admitted the mouse. - And I got scared. You know what, come visit me!
- How can I find you?
- I’ll run, there will be a footprint in the snow, you follow it!
The vole ran across the soft snow, and behind it were traces of holes, small, like beads on a string. Kolobok was just about to follow this “thread” when he saw a snow cloud rolling across the clearing. I wonder what it is?
The cloud reached Kolobok and... disintegrated. When the snow dust settled, Kolobok saw Pig.
- Hello! - said the Pig. - Have you forgotten me? And I smelled you from afar. We boars know what a sense of smell we have! Come with me! I'll treat you! - and stomped forward. A string of traces - deep holes - was already stretching behind him.
So Kolobok walked with a “thread” and a “rope” and came to a haystack. Then a bank vole and its friends jumped out to meet him and began calling him to taste the fragrant, crunchy, tasty hay. Kolobok was glad that the hay turned out to be so good. After all, it was his grandfather who mowed him down. And Kolobok helped dry, stir and stack.
Meanwhile, the Boar approached from behind with an acorn in his teeth. The mice were blown away like the wind! Everyone hid in the depths of the stack, in their holes. The haystack, it turns out, was both food and home for them.
And the Boar began to treat Kolobok with an acorn. He found these acorns right there on the haystack. He took it from a large oak branch with which grandfather covered the top of the haystack.
- And if you crawl under the haystack a little, you can dig up some tasty roots. I've been feeding here for a long time. Will you climb?
But Kolobok did not have time to crawl under the stack, because the deep creaking of snow was heard.
“These are moose,” Kabanchik reassured him. “They pull hay here all the time.” It’s delicious, they say...” The boar didn’t finish, because from behind the haystack appeared the head of not an elk at all, but Mikey’s grandfather’s horse. The boar shuddered and rushed across the clearing, and behind him a snow cloud stretched straight towards the forest, towards the dense fir trees. And it disappeared.
Grandfather got out of the sleigh and, chuckling, patted Kolobok on the head. Maybe he saw everything, or maybe he guessed everything from the tracks.
Kolobok and he loaded the sleigh with hay. Not the whole stack was taken, but half. We need to leave something for both large and small forest dwellers. And we went home.

Artist I. Koshkarev

Stanislav BREYER
KITTEN FROM THE GOBI

Uncle Tolya lived in Mongolia for three years. Now he has returned and brought me a gift: a kitten from the Gobi.
“It’s a whole cat,” I was surprised, “so big and fat!”
“It just seems like a cat,” the uncle answers, “but in fact it’s a kitten, only from the Gobi Desert.” There are many of them there. Adult cats feed on sheep and camels.
I began to dream: my kitten will grow up, and I will ride him like an elephant. Then everyone I know will envy me!
And my uncle egged me on:
- Feed him more, then he will grow up quickly. And now he only weighs six kilos.
I started feeding the kitten. He eats and eats. And everything meows so pitifully: mya-sa, mya-sa...
- Yes, he will ruin our whole family! - Mom is indignant.
“It’s okay, mom,” dad smiles, “just wait, the kitten will become like an elephant, then it will move on to pasture.”
-Where should he grow? “He already weighs eight kilograms,” says his mother. “He’s gaining weight like a breeding bull.”
Our whole family weighed the cat on scales every day. He became fatter and fatter, but did not grow in height. The doctor prescribed me vitamins, so I fed them to the kitten from the Gobi for good growth. But he doesn’t even think about growing. He looks at me and meows protractedly: mea-sa, mea-sa, mea-sa...
I went home to Uncle Tolya.
“What does this mean?” I ask. “What kind of kitten is this from the Gobi when it doesn’t grow?”
“Well, it’s okay,” the uncle answers. “You see, baby, I forgot to tell you, there are dwarf cats from the Gobi.” They are as tall as ours, but they are real cats from the Gobi. And to be honest, I was joking. So what's wrong with that?
When I returned, I said to the cat:
- Oh you! I thought that you were a kitten from the Gobi, but you are just an ordinary glutton. I don't want to see you!
I said these offensive words to the cat and went to bed. And I woke up in a very strange situation: there was water on the floor, my toys were floating in it. The bed, look, will also float around the room.
“Ay-ay-ay!” Mom shouts. “Trouble!” It must be that the neighbors forgot to turn off the tap!
And there is more and more water, now we are all swimming in it, like in a pool.
“What happened?” - I thought and accidentally licked my hand, and it was salty! Suddenly I hear someone sobbing. I swim up to the bookcase and see this picture: our cat is sitting on top and crying. And whole streams of tears flow from his eyes. So this is where the salty water comes from!
“My poor thing!” I say. “Please forgive me for those offensive words.” You are a real kitten from the Gobi!
The cat is crying and doesn’t want to hear anything.
“Forgive us, kitten from the Gobi!” his mom and dad ask him. “Please stop crying, otherwise we’ll all drown.”
The cat doesn't seem to hear.
Then they started ringing in the hallway. Dad swam breaststroke to the door and opened it.
- Hey! - the neighbors shouted from the doorway, - you are flooding us, call the emergency crew urgently!
“This is not an accident, but our kitten is crying,” I shout to the neighbors. “We don’t know what to do!”
- Give him some valerian as soon as possible! - the neighbor shouts. “Drink and calm down!”
Dad swam to the first aid kit, took out valerian, then pulled himself up and climbed onto the closet where our crybaby was sitting. Gave him medicine. He cried and cried and... fell asleep.
- Ugh! - Dad looked around our room from the closet. - This is wonderful! We have a real resort here. And the water is salty, like in the Black Sea. Swim to your health!
He undressed and plummeted down from the closet, and breaststroke, breaststroke! I'm following, I'm not far behind! And mom also followed like a frog.
Here's the story. Then the emergency crew finally arrived and pumped out the water.
I told all my friends in the yard that this was all arranged by my kitten from the Gobi. But they don’t believe me, they say that one kitten, even if it is from the Gobi, cannot cry so many tears. And in general, they say, cats don’t cry. Like, only crocodiles cry... Well, let them not believe it! I still love my Gobi kitten! I even see amazing dreams about the Gobi Desert. Here!

Artist I. Urmanche

A STORY ABOUT MASHA, HER FRIEND THE NUTCRACKER AND THE EVIL MOUSE KING

Once upon a time, there lived an evil Mouse King...
Do you know this fairy tale? No? Then sit back and listen...
He kept a huge army of mice in his underground kingdom. The nightly robber raids of the Mouse King and his troops were devastating. Wherever they passed, devastation and devastation remained. And they themselves are such monsters, if you ever get a chance to meet them! And yet, one brave girl and her friend the Nutcracker happened to stand in the way of the evil Mouse King... This fairy tale story was told to us by the great composer Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky in his ballet “The Nutcracker”. But it was not by chance that the composer came up with The Nutcracker. Tchaikovsky learned his story from a fairy tale by the German writer Ernst Theodor Amadeus Hoffmann. This storyteller will eventually lead you into the world of unusual fairy-tale wonders and heroes created by the imagination of the famous writer.
But let's return to our story about the Mouse King, about the girl Masha and what happened one amazing night...

Large white flakes fell and fell in a continuous veil onto the streets of the town. What kind of blacksmith forged these silver stars and patterned figures with his light hammer! Yes, it must have been a wizard! And the night itself turned out to be magical, fabulous. The old clock in the living room struck nine, and our fairy tale began...

listen to record 1-2
see picture

LEARN A CRAFT
Georgian folk tale

It was or was not - there lived one king in the world, he had an only son. The king grew old and decided to marry his son. And the son says:
- Let me go around our kingdom - I’ll choose my own bride!
The king said:
- Go look!
The prince set off. He walks around all the cities and villages, looking, searching, but he can’t find a bride. Only in one poor village, on its very outskirts, in the poorest house, did he see a girl of unprecedented beauty and at first sight fell in love with her without memory. The prince tells her:
- Be my wife!
And the girl asks:
- Tell me, what craft do you know?
He answers:
- I don’t know anyone, I’m a prince.
- If you don’t know, that’s your problem! - says the girl. - But being a prince is not a craft! Today you are a king, but tomorrow you are not - then how will you get bread? Go learn some craft - only then will I marry you.
The prince is sad and doesn’t know what craft he can learn as quickly as possible. He came to his father and told him everything.
The king called all the artisans. Craftsmen came: carpenters, shoemakers, masons, stove makers. The king of the carpenter asks:
- How long can you teach the prince your craft?
“At five years old,” the carpenter answers.
Shoemaker says:
- I’ll teach you in four years!
Mason says:
- I’ll teach you in three years!
Stovemaker says:
- I’ll teach you in two years!
Finally, one old man came out and said:
- I felt felt and made burkas. In three days I will teach the prince his craft!
The prince was delighted, went to the burr and in three days learned to felt felt and make burkas: long, fleecy ones for horsemen, and short, smooth ones, without seams, for pedestrians.
After that he went to the girl.
- Why did you come again? - asks the girl.
- To match you!
-Have you studied the craft?
- I learned: I know how to felt burkas.
- Well, this craft will come in handy! - says the girl. - Now I’ll marry you!
They got married and lived happily.
Soon the old king died. Our prince began to reign. One day he wanted to see his kingdom: who lives how, who rejoices about what, who grieves about what. He dressed himself in the clothes of a poor man and went.
He walked and walked and came to some city, and he wanted to eat. He found a dukhan, there was a delicious smell of food from there, he entered it, greeted him and said:
- Feed me, good people!
The owners greeted him kindly and did not refuse him - they fed him.
And these were cannibal robbers. They led the king to the cellar and opened the door.
“What do you have in this cellar?” asks the king.
- But look for yourself! - said the robbers and pushed him into the cellar.
The king looked around and saw three more people sitting in the cellar.
- Why are you sitting here? - asks the king. “What will they do to you?”
“These cannibal robbers will kill us and eat us,” the captives answer him. “And you can’t avoid the same.”
The king was frightened and did not know what to do...
“Don’t kill me,” the king said to the robbers when his turn came. “I’ll make you such a cloak that they’ll give you a thousand tomans for it!” Take it straight to the young queen - she will buy it without haggling.
The robbers rejoiced. They brought wool. The king began to make a burqa. He made it and decorated it with such patterns that you couldn’t take your eyes off it. And between the patterns I embroidered the words:
“I’m sitting captive among cannibalistic robbers in such and such a city, in such and such a house, in a cellar...”
One robber took a cloak, put it on his head and carried it to the city.
He brought it to the palace and began selling it. The queen examined the burka and read the words that were embroidered among the patterns. She gave a thousand tomans for the burka and let the robber go. Then she called the soldiers and followed that robber to help her husband. The robber walks, suspecting nothing, and the queen and her soldiers follow him. They came and surrounded the robber's house. No one can jump out of it!
The soldiers rushed into the house and grabbed all the robbers. They went down to the cellar, freed the king and brought him to his wife.
- You see! - she says. “If you didn’t know the craft, it wouldn’t help you that you’re a king.”
“It’s your truth,” the king answers, “I wish I wouldn’t be alive!” Only my craft saved me!

Artist V. Rodionov

PUZZLES

Svetlana PSHENICNYKH

The Christmas tree is excellent,
Only unusual:
By the cold weather at this tree
Needles fall off.
(Larch)

Alexander STEPANOV

Above the roof and chimneys
White humps stood up -
What important camels are
Relaxing at the hut?
(Snowdrifts)

Sergei POGORELOVSKY

Two thin-legged sisters
They bake flatbreads as they go.
Look how many there are along the way!
Yes, try it - grab it!
(Ski poles and ring tracks in the snow)

Artist I. Koshkarev

Natalia ISHCHUK
Echo in the apartment

Echo walks in the forest and in the mountains -
In a booming world wide open to sounds!
He loves both whispering and fuck-ta-ra-rah!..
There was no echo in the old apartment.
There is plenty of room for echoes in the new apartment!
It immediately started a conversation with me.
The echo jumped with me on the parquet floor,
Echo launched a rocket with me!
But the time has come to make room -
Find a place for a sofa and carpet.
The table appeared, and the chair...
Everything is located.
And the echo disappeared!..

Magomed Gaziev
Nuts in your pocket

Come on, baby
Answer me lesson:
In your pocket
Three nuts, son.
Pamper mom
My son decided -
Two more nuts
I put it in my pocket.
Remember?
Now put all the nuts
How many nuts are there in your pocket?
Tell?
- How many nuts?
Not a single one!
- You upset your father!
You can't count!
Shame on the family!
- They're full of holes, dad.
My pockets!

Translated from Avar by Yakov Akim

Inna GAMAZKOVA
Dreams

The dishes are sleeping in the kitchen,
The ZIL refrigerator is sleeping.
The dolls closed their eyes
They dream about the store.
Cubes sleep in a box
And they see the blue forest,
And skiers dream of trails,
Skis glass shine.
Natasha falls asleep
She dreams of an airplane.
She flies all night
It flies and grows.

Artist A. Borisov

THE WORLD AROUND US

IN SEARCH OF THREE WHALES
Victor KALASHNIKOV

Since ancient times, people, observing the world around them, thought about what they saw around them, but did not immediately find the right answers. For example, they believed that all land - mountains, forests, fields, and with them cities and villages - floated in the middle of a large sea, as if in a bowl of soup. And this whole huge plate stands on three whales, which are slowly moving in the endless ocean.
One day, brave travelers went in search of amazing miracle fish - these very whales. They boarded sailing ships - there were no others at that time - and soon disappeared over the horizon.
Travelers went ashore, discovered new lands, and met amazing animals. In the sea they came across strange fish, which they had never seen in their homeland. They also saw large whales, even very, very large ones. But they had nothing on their backs - no such Earth with cities and villages.
People sailed further and further across the seas and oceans, but there was still no end of the earth - that very plate. Then they returned home, sailed to their native shores - only from the other side.
Of course, I fantasized: not in one, but in many, many trips, such an important discovery was made that our Earth is round, like a ball. This means that wherever you go, and if you don’t go astray, you will definitely return home.
New discoveries have proven that our planet is not only round, but also rotates, exposing one side or the other to the Sun. Sunlight falls on one side of the Earth, there is day, and on the other side at this time it is night.
Yes, you can easily check this yourself. Bring the Earth ball to the sun bulb. There will be daylight on one side of the ball. Turn the ball - attention: now you are turning the model of our planet! - the day will be on the other side.
But the Earth rotates not only around itself, but also around the Sun. Our planet flies - and winter is replaced by spring, and then comes summer, autumn, winter...
Well, where are our fairy whales? Maybe they buried themselves underground? Let's check.
It turns out that the temperature in the middle of the Earth is very high, like the Sun. We can say that a little sun lives under our feet, only it is covered with sand and earth. And whales, as you all know, cannot live in fire. Where to look for them?
Maybe they are floating among the clouds? Let's go up there into the sky.
The earth is surrounded by air called the atmosphere. There is oxygen in the atmosphere, we breathe it and that’s why we live, and flowers and trees grow next to us, birds fly, animals bask in the sun. But if you rise higher and higher, then oxygen will become less and less. Beyond the atmosphere begins space - endless space without air. We will never see whales here again, because in space they will have nothing to breathe. Only if we are lucky, we can see space satellites and rockets launched by people. They are sent on a long flight in order to get to know our planet better, and at the same time learn all the secrets of outer space.
Now I will ask you a difficult question, so you will also need the help of your parents: why do you think there are places on our planet where it is always hot - both in winter and in summer?

Artist V. Semenov

Korney CHUKOVSKY
MOIDODYR

Blanket
Ran away
The sheet flew away
And a pillow
Like a frog
She galloped away from me.
I'm for a candle
The candle goes to the stove!
I'm for a book
Ta - run
And skipping
Under the bed!
I want to drink tea
I run to the samovar,
But pot-bellied from me
He ran away as if from fire.
What's happened?
What's happened?
From what
Everything is all around
It started spinning
Dizzy
And the wheel went off?
Irons behind boots,
Boots for pies,
Pies behind the irons,
The poker behind the sash -
Everything is spinning
And it's spinning
And it goes head over heels.
Suddenly from my mother’s bedroom,
Bowlegged and lame,
The washbasin runs out
And shakes his head:
"Oh, you ugly one,
oh you dirty
Unwashed pig!
You're blacker than a chimney sweep
Admire yourself:
There's polish on your neck,
There's a blot under your nose,
You have such hands
That even the trousers ran away,
Even pants, even pants
They ran away from you.
Early in the morning at dawn
Little mice wash themselves
And kittens and ducklings,
And bugs and spiders.
You weren't the only one who didn't wash your face
And I remained dirty
And ran away from the dirty
And stockings and shoes.
I am the Great Laver,
The famous Moidodyr,
Umybasnikov Head
And washcloths Commander!
If I stamp my foot,
I'll call my soldiers
There's a crowd in this room
The washbasins will fly in.
And they will bark and howl,
And their feet will knock,
And a headache for you,
To the unwashed, they will give -
Straight to the Moika
Straight to Moika
They’ll plunge headlong into it!”
He hit the copper basin
And he cried out: “Kara-baras!”
And now brushes, brushes
They crackled like rattles,
And let's rub me
Sentence:
"My, my chimney sweep
Clean, clean, clean, clean!
There will be, there will be a chimney sweep
Clean, clean, clean, clean!”
Here the soap jumped
And grabbed my hair,
And it fussed and fussed,
And it stung like a wasp.
And from a mad washcloth
I ran as if from a stick,
And she's behind me, behind me
Along Sadovaya, along Sennaya.
I'm going to the Tauride Garden,
Jumped over the fence
And she's chasing after me
And she bites like a wolf.
Suddenly, my good one comes towards me,
My favorite Crocodile.
He is with Totosha and Kokosha
Walked along the alley
And a washcloth, like a jackdaw,
Like a jackdaw, he swallowed it.
And then how he growls
On me,
How his feet will knock
On me:
“Go home now,
Speaks,
Wash your face,
Speaks,
And not how I’ll fly,
Speaks,
I will trample and swallow! -
Speaks".
How I started running down the street,
I ran to the washbasin again,
Soap, soap,
Soap, soap
I washed myself endlessly
I also washed off the wax,
And ink
From an unwashed face.
And now trousers, trousers
So they jumped into my arms.
And behind them is a pie:
“Come on, eat me, buddy!”
And behind them is a sandwich.
He jumped up and straight into his mouth!
So the book came back,
The notebook turned
And the grammar started
Dancing with arithmetic.
Here is the Great Laver,
The famous Moidodyr,
Umybasnikov Head
And washcloths Commander,
He ran up to me, dancing,
And, kissing, he said:
“Now I love you,
Now I praise you!
Finally you, dirty little thing,
Moidodyr pleased!”
I need to wash my face
In the mornings and evenings,
And to the unclean Chimney Sweeps -
Shame and disgrace!
Shame and disgrace!
Long live scented soap,
And a fluffy towel,
And tooth powder
And a thick comb!
Let's wash, splash,
Swim, dive, tumble,
In the tub, in the trough, in the tub, -
In a river, stream, in the ocean, -
Both in the bath and in the bathhouse
Anytime and anywhere -
Eternal glory to the water!

Artists A. Solovkina and V. Karasev

KOLOBOK
1 (191) 1988
Year founded - 1969
MONTHLY CHILDREN'S SUPPLEMENT TO THE MAGAZINE "KRUGOZOR"
PUBLISHER: USSR STATE COMMITTEE FOR TELEVISION AND RADIO BROADCASTING 1987
EDITORIAL TEAM
Artist O. A. Koznov
Technical editor I. A. Kuzmina
On the 1st and 4th covers there is a drawing by the artist S. Alimov.

listen on records:

1 “NUTCRACKER” Musical fairy tale
2 STORY OF E. PERMYAK
3 Dramatization by V. Tolmacheva
Director V. Shcheglov
4 Once upon a time there was a song

Editorial address: 113326, Moscow, st. Pyatnitskaya. 25.
The sound pages were produced by the All-Union Recording Studio of the Melodiya company and the GDRZ.
Delivered to set 11/03/87.
Signed for publication on November 17, 1987.
Format 60 x 84 1/8. Offset printing.
Conditional p.l. 1.86. Academic ed. l. 2.60. Conditional cr.-ott. 9.77
Circulation 450,000 copies. Order No. 1547.
Order of Lenin and the Order of the October Revolution, printing house named after V.I. Lenin, publishing house of the CPSU Central Committee "Pravda".
125865, GSP, Moscow, A-137. st. "Pravda", 24.
Price 65 kopecks

NEW YEAR'S ADVENTURES
Sergey MAKEEV

Kolobok has many friends. But it turns out that not everyone likes our cheerful hero. And then one day...
- I invite all the guys to the Christmas tree. Come in costumes and masks. Kolobok magazine established a prize for the best carnival costume.
- Let's run to the Christmas tree!
- Kolobok will be our prize!
- Are you sure that oil paint is easy to wash off?
- Which one of them is Kolobok?
- I'm sure that Kolobok hid in this basket!
- Open the basket!
- Quickly!
- Abracadabra!
- Guard!
- Save me!
- You don’t understand jokes, do you? It's just sleight of hand...
It's time to announce the winner of the competition.
- The main prize was awarded to the Pirate and his Parrot! But where are they? Have you guys seen them?
- How long will I have to be a black sheep now?

Artist M. Zaretsky