On the third day of Christmas I went to see Sherlock Holmes to congratulate him on the holiday. He was lying on the couch in a red robe; On his right hand was a stand for pipes, and on his left was a pile of crumpled morning newspapers which he had apparently just been looking through. There was a chair next to the couch, and on its back hung a very worn, out-of-shape felt hat. Holmes must have been studying this hat very carefully, because there were tweezers and a magnifying glass lying on the seat of the chair.

You're busy? - I said. - Did I disturb you?

“Not at all,” he replied. - I'm glad that I have a friend with whom I can discuss the results of some of my research. The business is very ordinary, but with this thing,” he pointed his thumb towards the hat, “some interesting and even instructive events are connected.”

I sat down in a chair and began to warm my hands by the fireplace, where the fire was crackling. It was bitterly cold; the windows were covered with dense icy patterns.

Although this hat seems very tatty, it must be connected with some bloody story, I remarked.

Obviously, it will serve as the key to solving a terrible mystery, and thanks to it you will be able to expose and punish the criminal.

No,” Sherlock Holmes laughed, “this is not a crime, but a small, funny episode that can always happen where four million people are crowded together over an area of ​​​​several square miles.” In such a colossal human hive, any combination of events and facts is possible; a lot of minor, but mysterious and strange incidents arise, although there is nothing criminal in them. We have already encountered similar cases.

Still would! - I exclaimed. - Of the last six episodes with which I added to my notes, three do not contain anything illegal.

Absolutely right. You are referring to my attempts to discover the papers of Irene Adler, the interesting case of Miss Mary Sutherland, and the adventures of the man with the cut lip. I have no doubt that this case will turn out to be just as innocent. Do you know Peterson, the messenger?

This trophy belongs to him.

Is this his hat?

No, he found her. Its owner is unknown. I ask you to consider this hat not as an old piece of junk, but as an object fraught with a serious problem... However, how did this hat get here in the first place. She showed up on Christmas Day, along with a nice fat goose that was probably roasting in Peterson's kitchen at the moment. It happened like this. On Christmas Day, at four o'clock in the morning, Peterson, a man, as you know, a noble and honest man, was returning home from a party along Tottenham Court Road. By the light of a gas lamp, he noticed that a person was walking in front of him, staggering slightly, carrying a snow white goose on his shoulder. On the corner of Goodge Street, a stranger was accosted by hooligans. One of them knocked his hat off, and the stranger, fighting back, swung his stick and hit the store window behind him. Peterson rushed forward to protect him, but he, frightened by breaking the glass when he saw a man running towards him, abandoned the goose, ran as fast as he could, and disappeared into the maze of small alleys that lay behind Tottenham Court Road. Peterson was in uniform, and this must have frightened the fugitive the most. The hooligans also fled, and the messenger was left alone on the battlefield, finding himself the owner of this misunderstood hat and an excellent Christmas goose...

- ...which Peterson, of course, returned to the stranger?

That's the rub, dear friend. True, on the card tied to the left leg of the goose, it was written: “For Mrs. Henry Baker,” and on the lining of the hat you can make out the initials “H. B." But there are several thousand Bakers and several hundred Henry Bakers in London, so it is not easy to restore lost property to one of them.

What did Peterson do?

Knowing that I was interested in solving even the most insignificant riddles, he simply brought me both a goose and a hat. We kept the goose until this morning, when it became clear that, despite the frost, it was still better to eat it immediately. Peterson carried off the goose, and what fate had destined for happened to the goose, and I was left with the hat of the stranger who lost his Christmas dinner.

Didn't he place an ad in the newspaper?

How do you know who he is?

Only by reflection.

Thoughts on this hat?

Certainly.

Are you joking! What can you get out of that old torn felt?

Here's a magnifying glass. Try my method. What can you say about the person who owned this hat?

I took the torn hat and sadly turned it over in my hands. The most ordinary black round hat, hard, very worn. The silk lining, once red, is now faded. I couldn’t find the manufacturer’s mark, but, as Holmes said, the initials “G.” were visible inside on the side. B." In the brim I noticed a loop for an elastic band to hold the hat, but the elastic itself was missing. In general, the hat was wrinkled, dirty, and covered in stains. However, attempts were noticeable to cover up these stains with ink.

“I don’t see anything in it,” I said, returning the hat to Sherlock Holmes.

No, Watson, you see, but you don’t give yourself the trouble to think about what you see. You are too timid in your logical conclusions.

Then please tell me, what conclusions do you draw?

Holmes took the hat in his hands and began to closely examine it with a penetrating gaze characteristic of him alone.

Of course, not everything is clear enough,” he noted, “but some things can be established for sure, and some things can be assumed with a reasonable degree of probability. It is quite obvious, for example, that its owner is a man of great intelligence and that three years ago he had a fair amount of money, but now dark days have come. He was always prudent and concerned about the future, but little by little he sank, his well-being fell, and we have the right to assume that he became addicted to some vice, perhaps drunkenness. Apparently, because of this, his wife stopped loving him...

Dear Holmes...

But to some extent he still retained his dignity,” Holmes continued, not paying attention to my exclamation. - He leads a sedentary lifestyle, rarely leaves the house, and does not play sports at all. This man is middle-aged, has gray hair, wears lipstick on it and recently got his hair cut. Plus, I'm pretty sure he doesn't have gas lighting in the house.

Of course you're joking, Holmes.

Not at all. Really, even now that I’ve told you everything, you don’t understand how I found out about this?

Call me an idiot, but I must admit that I am unable to follow your train of thought. For example, where did you get the idea that he is smart?

Instead of answering, Holmes pulled his hat down onto his head. The hat covered his forehead and rested on the bridge of his nose.

See how big it is! - he said. - Such a large skull cannot be completely empty.

Well, where did you get the idea that he became poor?

This hat is three years old. Flat brims with curved edges were fashionable back then. Hat best quality. Look at this silk ribbon, at the excellent lining. If three years ago a person was able to buy such an expensive hat and has not bought one since then, then his business has gone bad.

Well, okay, you're probably right about this. But how could you know that he is a prudent man, but is currently experiencing mental decline?

Forethought is what it is,” he said, pointing to the loop of his hat’s elastic band. - Elastic bands are not sold together with the hat; they must be purchased separately. Since this man bought an elastic band and ordered it to be attached to his hat, it means that he cared about protecting it from the wind. But when the rubber band came off, and he did not attach a new one, it means that he stopped taking care of his appearance and sank. However, on the other hand, he tried to cover up the stains on his hat with ink, that is, he did not completely lose his self-esteem.

All this is very similar to the truth.

Summary of the story “The Blue Carbuncle” by A. C. Doyle.

On Christmas Eve, a theft occurred in a London hotel. A valuable stone was stolen from Countess Morcar - a blue carbuncle, one of the most expensive diamonds in the world. Suspicion fell on soldering ironman John Horner, who was convicted of theft, and who was repairing the fireplace grate in the countess's room. Testimony against him was given by hotel employee James Ryder and the Countess's maid. The soldering worker stated that he was not involved in the theft.

Meanwhile, a fight takes place on one of the streets of London - hooligans attack an elderly man. A passing messenger, Peterson, decides to protect the passerby. Fleeing, the man runs away and leaves a Christmas goose and a hat at the scene of the fight.

A name card is attached to the bird's leg, and Peterson brings the findings to Sherlock Holmes so he can find the owner. Peterson roasted a goose for dinner and brought another one in return.

By studying the hat, the great detective gets an idea of ​​the passerby. A middle-aged man named Henry Baker was once rich, but now his fortunes have declined. He leads a sedentary lifestyle, has lost the affection of his wife, and is addicted to drinking.

Bellman Peterson flies into the apartment on Baker Street. While butchering a goose, the cook discovered a stolen blue carbuncle in its crop.

Mr. Henry Baker, who came in response to the advertisement, confirms the great detective’s conclusions about him. After asking him several questions about the goose, Sherlock Holmes becomes convinced that the visitor has no idea about the diamond. Mr. Baker reports that he is a regular at a certain tavern, the owner of which founded a “goose club.” By paying a few pence a week, club members receive a goose for Christmas.

The great detective goes to the indicated tavern, where he finds out the address of the goose merchant. Innocent questions about the bird infuriate the merchant, but nevertheless he gives the address of a certain Mrs. Oakeshott, who supplies him with the goods.

Going out into the street, Holmes and Watson hear a noise and see a merchant driving out of the shop a little red-faced man who is trying to find out to whom the geese bought from Mrs. Oakeshott were sold. Sherlock Holmes brings the little man to his home, finding out along the way that his name is James Ryder.

On Baker Street, the great detective forces the visitor to admit that he and the Countess's maid broke the grate and sent Horner to repair it. Having stolen the stone, James came to his sister, Mrs. Oakeshott, who promised him a goose as a gift. James went into the poultry yard and shoved a stone down the throat of a huge goose. But the goose escaped from his hands and mixed with the herd. While picking up his gift, James mixed up the geese.

Fearing that Sherlock Holmes will hand him over to the police, Ryder promises not to testify against Horner and to go abroad. In this case, the charges against the solderer will be dropped due to lack of evidence. James Ryder is so scared that he is unlikely to repeat something like this. Seeing that partridge has been prepared for dinner, the great detective suggests checking the bird's entrails.

Arthur Conan Doyle

"Blue Carbuncle"

On Christmas Eve, a theft occurred in a London hotel. A valuable stone was stolen from the Countess of Morcar - a blue carbuncle, one of the most expensive diamonds in the world. Suspicion fell on soldering ironman John Horner, previously convicted of theft, who was repairing the fireplace grate in the countess's room. Testimony against him was given by hotel employee James Ryder and the Countess's maid. The soldering worker stated that he was not involved in the theft.

Meanwhile, a fight takes place on one of the streets of London - hooligans attacked an elderly man. A passing messenger, Peterson, decided to protect the passerby. Fleeing, the man ran away, losing the Christmas goose he was carrying and his hat. A name card was attached to the bird's leg and Peterson brings the findings to Sherlock Holmes so that he can find the owner. Peterson roasted a goose for dinner and brought another one in return.

Studying the hat, the great detective formed an idea of ​​the passerby. A middle-aged man named Henry Baker, once a man of means, was now in decline. He leads a sedentary lifestyle, has lost the affection of his wife, and is addicted to drinking.

Bellman Peterson flies into the apartment on Baker Street. While butchering a goose, the cook discovered a stolen blue carbuncle in its crop.

Mr. Henry Baker, who came in response to the advertisement, confirms the great detective’s conclusions about him. After asking him several questions about the goose, Sherlock Holmes becomes convinced that the visitor has no idea about the diamond. Mr. Baker reports that he is a regular at a certain tavern, the owner of which founded a “goose club.” By paying a few pence a week, club members receive a goose for Christmas.

The great detective goes to the indicated tavern in hot pursuit. There he finds out the address of the goose merchant. Innocent questions about the bird infuriate the merchant, but nevertheless he gives the address of a certain Mrs. Oakeshott, who supplies him with the goods.

Going out into the street, Holmes and Watson hear a noise and see a merchant driving out of the shop a little red-faced man who is trying to find out to whom the geese bought from Mrs. Oakeshott were sold. Sherlock Holmes brings the little man to his home, finding out along the way that his name is James Ryder.

On Baker Street, the great detective extracts a confession from the visitor that he and the Countess's maid broke the grate and sent Horner to repair it. Having stolen the stone, James came to his sister, Mrs. Oakeshott, who promised him a goose as a gift. James went into the poultry yard and shoved a stone down the throat of a huge goose. But the goose escaped from his hands and mixed with the herd. While picking up his gift, James mixed up the geese.

Fearing that Sherlock Holmes will hand him over to the police, Ryder promises not to testify against Horner and to go abroad. In this case, the charges against the solder will be dropped due to lack of evidence. James Ryder is so scared that he is unlikely to repeat something like this. And considering that partridge is prepared for dinner, the great detective suggests checking the insides of the bird. Retold Gisele Adam

Another Sherlock Holmes case. In a London hotel, one of the most expensive diamonds in the world, a blue carbuncle, was stolen from the Countess of Morcar. Solderer John Horner was suspected of committing this crime. He repaired the fireplace grate in the room and was previously convicted of theft. Horner denied any involvement in the theft, but Countess Morcar's maid and hotel employee James Ryder testified against him.

While the showdown continues at the hotel, a brawl broke out on one of the London streets. An elderly man was attacked by hooligans. The messenger Peterson, passing by the fighters, decided to protect the passerby. The victim ran away, leaving his hat and a Christmas goose with a name card on its foot in the street. The messenger wants to find the owner and brings the goose and hat to Sherlock Holmes. Peterson roasted the goose he found and brought another one to the detective.

After examining the hat, Holmes comes to the conclusion that Henry Baker, the name on the card, is a middle-aged man who was once wealthy, but his financial situation has worsened. He lost his wife's affections, began drinking and leading a sedentary lifestyle.

Peterson flies into Sherlock Holmes' apartment on Baker Street. The cook discovered a stolen blue carbuncle in the goose's crop.

Sherlock gave an advertisement, and Henry Baker came through it, who confirmed all the previously made conclusions about him. Mr. Baker knows nothing about the diamond. He received the goose as a Christmas present from the so-called “goose club.” It was founded by the owner of the tavern, where Baker often visits. Club members pay a few pence a week and receive a goose for Christmas.

Having gone to the indicated inn, Sherlock learns that a certain Mrs. Oakeshott supplies the geese. Holmes and Watson leave the inn, go out into the street and see how the merchant puts a man out of the shop trying to find out who Mrs. Oakeshott's geese were sold to. The detective brings the man to his home and on the way finds out that his name is James Ryder.

James admits that he stole the carbuncle. They, together with the maid, deliberately broke the grate and asked Horner to fix it. With the stolen diamond, James Ryder came to his sister, Mrs. Oakeshott, who promised to give him a goose. Entering the poultry yard, he shoved a stone down the throat of a huge goose, but then the bird escaped from his hands and mixed with the others. When James picked up his gift, he mixed up the geese.

Arthur Conan Doyle

Blue carbuncle

On the third day of Christmas I went to see Sherlock Holmes to congratulate him on the holiday. He was lying on the couch in a red robe; On his right hand was a stand for pipes, and on his left was a pile of crumpled morning newspapers which he had apparently just been looking through. There was a chair next to the couch, and on its back hung a very worn, out-of-shape felt hat. Holmes must have been studying this hat very carefully, because there were tweezers and a magnifying glass lying on the seat of the chair.

You're busy? - I said. - Did I disturb you?

“Not at all,” he replied. - I'm glad that I have a friend with whom I can discuss the results of some of my research. The business is very ordinary, but with this thing,” he pointed his thumb towards the hat, “some interesting and even instructive events are connected.”

I sat down in a chair and began to warm my hands by the fireplace, where the fire was crackling. It was bitterly cold; the windows were covered with dense icy patterns.

Although this hat seems very tatty, it must be connected with some bloody story, I remarked.

Obviously, it will serve as the key to solving a terrible mystery, and thanks to it you will be able to expose and punish the criminal.

No,” Sherlock Holmes laughed, “this is not a crime, but a small, funny episode that can always happen where four million people are crowded together over an area of ​​​​several square miles.” In such a colossal human hive, any combination of events and facts is possible; a lot of minor, but mysterious and strange incidents arise, although there is nothing criminal in them. We have already encountered similar cases.

Still would! - I exclaimed. - Of the last six episodes with which I added to my notes, three do not contain anything illegal.

Absolutely right. You are referring to my attempts to discover the papers of Irene Adler, the interesting case of Miss Mary Sutherland, and the adventures of the man with the cut lip. I have no doubt that this case will turn out to be just as innocent. Do you know Peterson, the messenger?

This trophy belongs to him.

Is this his hat?

No, he found her. Its owner is unknown. I ask you to consider this hat not as an old piece of junk, but as an object fraught with a serious problem... However, how did this hat get here in the first place. She showed up on Christmas Day, along with a nice fat goose that was probably roasting in Peterson's kitchen at the moment. It happened like this. On Christmas Day, at four o'clock in the morning, Peterson, a man, as you know, a noble and honest man, was returning home from a party along Tottenham Court Road. By the light of a gas lamp, he noticed that a person was walking in front of him, staggering slightly, carrying a snow white goose on his shoulder. On the corner of Goodge Street, a stranger was accosted by hooligans. One of them knocked his hat off, and the stranger, fighting back, swung his stick and hit the store window behind him. Peterson rushed forward to protect him, but he, frightened by breaking the glass when he saw a man running towards him, abandoned the goose, ran as fast as he could, and disappeared into the maze of small alleys that lay behind Tottenham Court Road. Peterson was in uniform, and this must have frightened the fugitive the most. The hooligans also fled, and the messenger was left alone on the battlefield, finding himself the owner of this misunderstood hat and an excellent Christmas goose...

- ...which Peterson, of course, returned to the stranger?

That's the rub, dear friend. True, on the card tied to the left leg of the goose, it was written: “For Mrs. Henry Baker,” and on the lining of the hat you can make out the initials “H. B." But there are several thousand Bakers and several hundred Henry Bakers in London, so it is not easy to restore lost property to one of them.

What did Peterson do?

Knowing that I was interested in solving even the most insignificant riddles, he simply brought me both a goose and a hat. We kept the goose until this morning, when it became clear that, despite the frost, it was still better to eat it immediately. Peterson carried off the goose, and what fate had destined for happened to the goose, and I was left with the hat of the stranger who lost his Christmas dinner.

Didn't he place an ad in the newspaper?

How do you know who he is?

Only by reflection.

Thoughts on this hat?

Certainly.

Are you joking! What can you get out of that old torn felt?

Here's a magnifying glass. Try my method. What can you say about the person who owned this hat?

I took the torn hat and sadly turned it over in my hands. The most ordinary black round hat, hard, very worn. The silk lining, once red, is now faded. I couldn’t find the manufacturer’s mark, but, as Holmes said, the initials “G.” were visible inside on the side. B." In the brim I noticed a loop for an elastic band to hold the hat, but the elastic itself was missing. In general, the hat was wrinkled, dirty, and covered in stains. However, attempts were noticeable to cover up these stains with ink.

“I don’t see anything in it,” I said, returning the hat to Sherlock Holmes.

No, Watson, you see, but you don’t give yourself the trouble to think about what you see. You are too timid in your logical conclusions.

Then please tell me, what conclusions do you draw?

Holmes took the hat in his hands and began to closely examine it with a penetrating gaze characteristic of him alone.

Of course, not everything is clear enough,” he noted, “but some things can be established for sure, and some things can be assumed with a reasonable degree of probability. It is quite obvious, for example, that its owner is a man of great intelligence and that three years ago he had a fair amount of money, but now dark days have come. He was always prudent and concerned about the future, but little by little he sank, his well-being fell, and we have the right to assume that he became addicted to some vice, perhaps drunkenness. Apparently, because of this, his wife stopped loving him...

Dear Holmes...

But to some extent he still retained his dignity,” Holmes continued, not paying attention to my exclamation. - He leads a sedentary lifestyle, rarely leaves the house, and does not play sports at all. This man is middle-aged, has gray hair, wears lipstick on it and recently got his hair cut. Plus, I'm pretty sure he doesn't have gas lighting in the house.

Of course you're joking, Holmes.

Not at all. Really, even now that I’ve told you everything, you don’t understand how I found out about this?

Call me an idiot, but I must admit that I am unable to follow your train of thought. For example, where did you get the idea that he is smart?