The genre of the work is an Indian fairy tale about 4 deaf people. IN

The poor shepherd became thoughtful: he couldn’t go home - how could he leave the flock? Just look, they'll steal it; staying in one place is even worse: hunger will torment you. So he looked here and there and saw Tagliari mowing grass for his cow. The shepherd approached him and said:

- Lend me, dear friend: see that my herd does not scatter. I’m just going home to have breakfast, and as soon as I’ve had breakfast, I’ll return immediately and generously reward you for your service.

It seems that the shepherd acted very wisely; and indeed he was a smart and careful little guy. There was one bad thing about him: he was deaf, so deaf that a cannon shot over his ear would not have made him look back; and what’s worse: he was talking to a deaf man.

Tagliari heard no better than the shepherd, and therefore it is no wonder that he did not understand a word of the shepherd’s speech. It seemed to him, on the contrary, that the shepherd wanted to take the grass from him, and he cried out with his heart:

- What do you care about my grass? It was not you who mowed her down, but me. Shouldn’t my cow die of hunger so that your herd can be fed? Whatever you say, I won’t give up this grass. Go away!

At these words, Tagliari shook his hand in anger, and the shepherd thought that he was promising to protect his flock, and, reassured, hurried home, intending to give his wife a good dressing down so that she would not forget to bring him breakfast in the future.

A shepherd approaches his house and looks: his wife is lying on the threshold, crying and complaining. I must tell you that last night she carelessly ate, and they also say raw peas, and you know that raw peas are sweeter than honey in the mouth, and heavier than lead in the stomach.

Our good shepherd tried his best to help his wife, put her to bed and gave her bitter medicine, which made her feel better. Meanwhile, he did not forget to have breakfast. All this trouble took a lot of time, and the poor shepherd’s soul became restless. "Is something being done with the herd? How long until trouble comes!" - thought the shepherd. He hurried to return and, to his great joy, soon saw that his herd was calmly grazing in the same place where he had left it. However, as a prudent man, he counted all his sheep. There were exactly the same number of them as before his departure, and he said to himself with relief: “This Tagliari is an honest man! We must reward him.”

The shepherd had a young sheep in his flock: lame, it is true, but well-fed. The shepherd put her on his shoulders, walked up to Tagliari and said to him:

- Thank you, Mr. Tagliari, for taking care of my herd! Here's a whole sheep for your efforts.

Tagliari, of course, did not understand anything of what the shepherd told him, but, seeing the lame sheep, he cried out with his heart:

“What does it matter to me that she’s limping!” How do I know who mutilated her? I didn't even go near your herd. What do I care?

“It’s true that she’s limping,” the shepherd continued, not hearing Tagliari, “but still she’s a nice sheep—both young and fat.” Take it, fry it and eat it for my health with your friends.

-Will you finally leave me? - Tagliari shouted, beside himself with anger. “I’m telling you again that I didn’t break the legs of your sheep and not only didn’t approach your flock, but didn’t even look at it.”

But since the shepherd, not understanding him, was still holding the lame sheep in front of him, praising it in every possible way, Tagliari could not stand it and swung his fist at him.

The shepherd, in turn, got angry, prepared for a hot defense, and they would probably have fought if they had not been stopped by some man riding past on horseback.

I must tell you that the Indians have a custom, when they argue about something, to ask the first person they meet to judge them.

So the shepherd and Tagliari grabbed, each on their side, the horse’s bridle to stop the rider.

“Do me a favor,” the shepherd said to the rider, “stop for a minute and judge: which of us is right and which is wrong?” I give this man a sheep from my flock in gratitude for his services, and in gratitude for my gift he almost killed me.

“Do me a favor,” said Tagliari, “stop for a minute and judge: which of us is right and which is wrong?” This evil shepherd accuses me of mutilating his sheep when I did not go near his flock.

Unfortunately, the judge they chose was also deaf and even, they say, more deaf than both of them together. He made a sign with his hand to keep them quiet and said:

“I must admit to you that this horse is definitely not mine: I found it on the road, and since I am in a hurry to get to the city on an important matter, in order to be in time as quickly as possible, I decided to ride it.” If it is yours, take it; if not, then let me go as soon as possible: I have no time to stay here longer.

The shepherd and Tagliari did not hear anything, but for some reason each imagined that the rider was deciding the matter not in his favor.

Both of them began to shout and curse even louder, reproaching the injustice of the mediator they had chosen.

At that time, an old Brahmin was passing along the road.

All three disputants rushed to him and began vying with each other to tell their story. But the Brahmin was as deaf as they were.

- Understand! Understand! - he answered them. “She sent you to beg me to return home (the Brahmin was talking about his wife). But you won't succeed. Did you know that there is no one in the whole world grumpier than this woman? Since I married her, she has made me commit so many sins that I cannot wash them away even in the sacred waters of the Ganges River. I’d rather eat alms and spend the rest of my days in a foreign land. I made up my mind firmly; and all your persuasion will not force me to change my intentions and again agree to live in the same house with such an evil wife.

The noise was greater than before; everyone shouted together with all their might, not understanding each other. Meanwhile, the one who stole the horse, seeing people running from afar, mistook them for the owners of the stolen horse, quickly jumped off it and ran away.

The shepherd, noticing that it was already getting late and that his flock had completely scattered, hastened to gather his sheep and drove them to the village, bitterly complaining that there was no justice on earth, and attributing all the sorrows of the day to the snake that crawled across the road at that time, when he left the house - the Indians have such a sign.

Tagliari returned to his mown grass and, finding there a fat sheep, the innocent cause of the dispute, he put it on his shoulders and carried it to him, thinking thereby to punish the shepherd for all the insults.

The Brahmin reached a nearby village, where he stopped to spend the night. Hunger and fatigue somewhat consoled his anger. And the next day friends and relatives came and persuaded the poor Brahmin to return home, promising to reassure his grumpy wife and make her more obedient and humble.

Do you know, friends, what might come to mind when you read this fairy tale? It seems like this: there are people in the world, big and small, who, although not deaf, are no better than the deaf: what you say to them, they don’t listen; They don’t understand what you assure us of; If they come together, they will argue without knowing what. They quarrel for no reason, take offense without resentment, and they themselves complain about people, about fate, or attribute their misfortune to absurd signs - spilled salt, a broken mirror. For example, one of my friends never listened to what the teacher told him in class, and sat on the bench as if he were deaf. What happened? He grew up to be a fool: no matter what he sets out to do, he succeeds. Smart people regret him, cunning people deceive him, and he, you see, complains about fate, as if he was born unlucky.

Do me a favor, friends, don’t be deaf! We are given ears to listen. One smart person noticed that we have two ears and one tongue and that, therefore, we need to listen more than talk.

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The Tale of Four Deaf People - Odoevsky V.F.

An interesting Indian tale about the spiritual deafness of a person. The fairy tale tells how important it is to listen and hear other people, and not just yourself. The work begins with an introduction, from which the reader learns about the characteristics of India...

The Tale of the Four Deaf Men read

Take a map of Asia, count parallel lines from the equator to the North, or Arctic, pole (i.e. in latitude) starting from the 8th degree to the 35th and from the Paris meridian along the equator (or in longitude) starting from the 65th on the 90th; between the lines drawn on the map at these degrees, you will find in the hot pole under the Tropic of Cancer a pointed strip protruding into the Indian Sea: this land is called India or Hindustan, and they also call it Eastern or Greater India, so as not to be confused with the land that is located on the opposite side of the hemisphere and is called Western or Little India. The island of Ceylon also belongs to Eastern India, on which, as you probably know, there are many pearl shells. In this land live Indians who are divided into different tribes, just as we Russians have tribes of Great Russians, Little Russians, Poles, etc.
From this land they bring to Europe various things that you use every day: cotton paper, from which they make cotton wool, which is used to line your warm hoods; notice that cotton paper grows on a tree; the black balls that sometimes come across in cotton wool are nothing more than the seeds of this plant, Saragin millet, from which porridge is cooked and with which water is infused for you when you are unwell; sugar with which you eat tea; saltpeter, from which tinder ignites when fire is struck from flint with a steel plate; pepper, these round balls that are ground into powder, are very bitter and which your mother won’t give you, because pepper is unhealthy for children; sandalwood, which is used to dye various materials red; indigo, which is used to dye blue, cinnamon, which smells so good: this is the bark from a tree; silk, from which taffeta, satin, and blondes are made; insects called cochineal, from which an excellent purple dye is made; the precious stones that you see in your mother's earrings, the tiger skin that you have instead of a carpet in your living room. All these things are imported from India. This country, as you can see, is very rich, but it is very hot. Most of India is owned by English merchants, or the so-called East India Company. She sells all these items that we mentioned above, because the inhabitants themselves are very lazy; most of them believe in a deity which is known as Trimurti and is divided into three gods: Brahma, Vishnu and Shivana. Brahma is the most important of the gods, and therefore the priests are called Brahmins. For these deities they built temples of very strange but beautiful architecture, which are called pagodas and which you probably saw in pictures, but if you haven’t, then look.
Indians are very fond of fairy tales, stories and stories of all kinds. In their ancient language, Sanskrit (which, mind you, is similar to our Russian), many beautiful poetic works were written; but this language is now incomprehensible to most Indians: they speak in different, new dialects. Here is one of the newest fairy tales of this people; The Europeans overheard it and translated it, and I will tell it to you as best I can; it is very funny, and from it you will get some idea about Indian morals and customs.

Not far from the village, a shepherd was tending sheep. It was already past noon, and the poor shepherd was very hungry. True, when leaving the house, he ordered his wife to bring him breakfast to the field, but his wife, as if on purpose, did not come.
The poor shepherd became thoughtful: he couldn’t go home - how could he leave the flock? Just look, they'll steal it; staying in one place is even worse: hunger will torment you. So he looked here and there and saw Tagliari mowing grass for his cow. The shepherd approached him and said:

- What do you care about my grass? It was not you who mowed her down, but me. Shouldn’t my cow die of hunger so that your herd can be fed? Whatever you say, I won’t give up this grass. Go away!

Our good shepherd tried his best to help his wife, put her to bed and gave her bitter medicine, which made her feel better. Meanwhile, he did not forget to have breakfast. All this trouble took a lot of time, and the poor shepherd’s soul became restless. “Is something being done to the herd? How long until trouble!” - thought the shepherd. He hurried to return and, to his great joy, soon saw that his herd was calmly grazing in the same place where he had left it. However, as a prudent man, he counted all his sheep. There were exactly the same number of them as before his departure, and he said to himself with relief: “This Tagliari is an honest man! We need to reward him."