What Mishka loves Story

Once, Mishka and I entered the hall where we have our singing lessons. Boris Sergeyevich was sitting at his piano, playing something quietly. Mishka and I sat on the windowsill and didn't disturb him, and he didn’t even notice us. He just kept playing, and different sounds quickly emerged from his fingers. They scattered in the air, creating something cheerful and welcoming. I really liked it, and I could have sat there listening for a long time, but soon Boris Sergeyevich stopped playing. He closed the piano lid, saw us, and cheerfully said:

"Oh! Look who's here! Sitting like two sparrows on a branch! Well, what do you have to say?"

I asked: "What were you playing, Boris Sergeyevich?"

He replied: "That was Chopin. I love him very much."

I said: "Of course, you're a singing teacher, so you must love all kinds of songs."

He said: "That wasn't a song. Although I do love songs, this was something much bigger than just a 'song.'"

I asked: "What do you call it then?"

He answered seriously and clearly: "Mu-sic. Chopin was a great composer. He wrote wonderful music. And I love music more than anything else in the world."

Then he looked at me closely and asked: "And what do you love? More than anything else in the world?"

I answered: "I love a lot of things."

And I told him what I loved. I mentioned dogs, carving wood, a baby elephant, the red cavalrymen, a little fawn on pink hooves, ancient warriors, cool stars, and horse faces—everything, everything…

Boys and the Teacher

He listened to me attentively, his face thoughtful. Then he said:

"Well! I didn’t know. Honestly, you're still young, don't be offended, but look at how much you love!"

At this point, Mishka jumped into the conversation. He puffed up and said: "And I love even more things than Deniska does! So what!"

Boris Sergeyevich laughed: "Very interesting! Well, share the secrets of your soul then. It's your turn, take the baton! Start! What do you love?"

Mishka wriggled on the windowsill, then cleared his throat and said: "I love buns, pastries, loaves of bread, and cakes! I love bread, and pies, and gingerbread, whether they're Tula gingerbread, honey, or glazed. I also love bagels, rolls, doughnuts, and pies with meat, jam, cabbage, or rice."

"I love dumplings, and especially cheesecakes, if they're fresh, but stale ones are fine too. Oatmeal cookies and vanilla crackers are also great."

"And I love sprats, saury, marinated pike perch, bullheads in tomato sauce, small fish in their own juice, eggplant caviar, zucchini slices, and fried potatoes."

"I absolutely love boiled sausage, especially 'Doctor's sausage'—I could eat a whole kilo as a bet! I also love deli meats, smoked, semi-smoked, and dry-cured sausages! I love them more than anything. I also love pasta with butter, vermicelli with butter, macaroni with butter, cheese with holes or without, with red rind or white—it doesn’t matter."

"I love dumplings with cottage cheese, salty cottage cheese, sweet, sour; I love apples grated with sugar, or just apples by themselves, or if they're peeled, I eat the apple first, then the peel as a snack!"

"I love liver, meat patties, herring, bean soup, green peas, boiled meat, toffee, sugar, tea, jam, mineral water, soda with syrup, eggs soft-boiled, hard-boiled, or poached—I can even eat them raw. I love sandwiches with anything on them, especially if they're thickly spread with mashed potatoes or millet porridge. And, well, who doesn't love halva? And I also love duck, goose, and turkey. Oh, and I absolutely love ice cream, whether it costs seven, nine, thirteen, fifteen, nineteen, twenty-two, or twenty-eight kopecks."

Mishka looked up at the ceiling and caught his breath. It was clear he was getting tired. But Boris Sergeyevich kept watching him closely, and Mishka went on.

He muttered: "Gooseberries, carrots, keta, pink salmon, turnips, borscht, dumplings—although I already mentioned dumplings—broth, bananas, persimmons, compote, sausages, and sausage, even though I already mentioned sausage…"

Mishka ran out of steam and went quiet. From the look in his eyes, you could tell he was waiting for Boris Sergeyevich to praise him. But Boris Sergeyevich looked at Mishka a little displeased, and even somewhat stern. It seemed like he was waiting for something else from Mishka, as if he expected more. But Mishka was silent. They both seemed to be waiting for something from each other, and both were silent.

Finally, Boris Sergeyevich couldn't take it anymore. "Well, Misha," he said, "you love a lot, no doubt about it. But everything you love is kind of the same—too edible, if you will. It turns out you love an entire grocery store. And that's it. But what about people? Whom do you love? Or animals?"

At this, Mishka perked up and blushed. "Oh," he said embarrassedly, "I almost forgot! I love kittens! And grandma too!"