When I was a student, I often went to visit my grandfather in the village.

My grandfather was such a cheerful old man, a lover of joking and mocking everybody. Everyone is accustomed and has not been offended by his sharpness.

At breakfast, he asked me:

“Lord, who are you studying at all?”

I hear another joke/history I answer simply:

“Well, for the electric...”

“And how is it? Does it work?” (He is shaking up)

“Yes, I don’t think...”

My grandfather stopped without finishing:

“Figgy is all! This is our village master, this is the Electricist! Gold hands of nature. He made the whole village electric! Is this how they teach you to measure the tension on the wire?”

“Well, there are special indicator holes – “probe holes.”

“The youth will not learn anything. I always checked the tension with two fingers.

A grandmother enters the room.

“The grandmother! I’m talking to my grandson about electricity. I haven’t seen him for a long time, where has he disappeared?”

“So he died...”

“How did he die?” 0 - O

“The current killed him. Three years as buried.

Then they sat silently.

Grandfather has long been gone, and I every time I deal with electrical wiring take a prob and remember with a smile his and that miracle.