Malicious spit

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In a small Siberian village, where I spent my childhood and youth, there were a few haymakers — the real masters of their craft. Such craftsmen often said, «in his hands the scythe sings». Watching the work Kostsov, I wanted to be as skillful and deft. The real virtuosos learn the skill of mowing. I studied and.

Among all mowers especially prominent was the grandfather Athanasius. Don’t judge how old he was, but I think over seventy. It would seem that the grandfather too old for such hard work. But to compete with him in the mowing could not even young strong men.

Author of a history

Зловредная коса

No one, even the most experienced mowers, grass cuttings do not bear such straight rows like my grandfather. He had no equal in the quality and speed of mowing. Started work at the same time. And braids were all the ordinary — ordinary scythes. Soon, however, grandpa was ahead of everyone.

I could spend hours watching him work. Seeing my interest, the grandfather breaks explained and demonstrated the most efficient methods of mowing: how correctly to distribute forces. Sometimes allowed to mow. However, my zeal is usually assessed as:

— You’re small a sprout, and silenok not enough. When will grow and strength will increase, it will probably be you good. Because with a scythe treated skillfully, and science caught on the fly.

Growing up I grew and my skills mowers. Grandfather Athanasius increasingly approved of my work. And then one day the old man asked me to come to his home. I went to visit. Grandfather sat on the porch and was holding the scythe. When we shook hands, he motioned to sit next to me and said:

— All right, Sasha, my time: squint no more. Health is not something.

He paused, then handed me the scythe:

— I give you my best, most favorite. It is not the price, it’s an antique work. This Lithuanian mowed my father and grandfather. Take care of her, and she will serve you long and well.

With emotion grandfather cried, and when he calmed down, warned:

— But remember, Sasha, that this scythe character. Her special approach is needed. Don’t get on with it-you will be a drudgery.

Unfortunately, I didn’t think to ask, what is this special approach to the spit. So heirloom grandfather Athanasius turned to me. And soon the old man died.

Before the next mowing, I prepared donated braid: parried blade (mowers call it a sting), altered sand bar. The first week went smoothly. But then the problems started. The sting of the spit suddenly somehow quickly dull. I decided, as always, to sharpen it all the same sand bar.

And although the mowers do this simple operation automatically (it hundreds of times and I did), this time in some incomprehensible manner (the first time) the bar slipped out of hands and I seriously hurt my fingers on the blade. Even had to ask for help in the infirmary. Unfortunately, my trouble with a scythe is not over.

The sting of the spit still for no reason at all quickly went dull. Although the grass was in the juice and, it would seem that only mow and mow. But no! In addition, the sting was the fact of the matter is stuck to the ground. I tried and with great difficulty managed to cope with this problem, change the usual angle.

Alas, my joy was quite short-lived. Another completely unexpected thing has caught me in 10 days. Extensive clearing in the side of the roads, trails, paths I well knew, as he repeatedly abysimal her. But this time was irreparable.

After the next swing I felt the scythe’s blade hit something hard. It was nowhere here for some new rock. The scythe broke in half.

So unfortunate ended the Saga with the gift of his grandfather Athanasius. We can only speculate that ruined the braid: whether the chain of fatal accidents, whether my fault, and were not able to find the right approach to it…

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