Compiled by S. Akhmetova
SHORT STORIES FOR ORAL AND WRITTEN
REPRODUCTION
Short stories for oral and written reproduction
МИНИСТЕРСТВО ОБРАЗОВАНИЯ И НАУКИ
РЕСПУБЛИКИ КАЗАХСТАН
КАЗАХСКИЙ НАЦИОНАЛЬНЫЙ ТЕХНИЧЕСКИЙ
УНИВЕРСИТЕТ им. К.И. САТПАЕВА
Compiled by S. Akhmetova
SHORT STORIES FOR ORAL AND WRITTEN
REPRODUCTION
Almaty, 2006
УДК 802. 0: 820 – 7 (075)
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S. Akhmetova
ББК 81.2 Англ. – 923
А 93
А 93
Ахметова С. Г. Short Stories for Oral and Written Reproduction:
Учебное пособие – Алматы: КазНТУ, 2006. - 156 с.
ISBN 9965-736-93-6
Данный сборник предназначен для студентов первого и второго
курсов, изучающих английский язык, а также для тех, кто
самостоятельно изучает язык. Работа над текстом, которому
предпосланы вопросы, ответы на эти вопросы и попытка
пересказать текст близко к содержанию оригинала позволит
студентам развить навыки устной речи. Сборник послужит также
преподавателям, которые смогут использовать тексты как
дополнительный материал к учебным пособиям.
Библиогр. – 21 назв.
Рецензенты: Ермагамбетова А. С. канд. филолог. наук., доц.
КазУМО и МЯ.
Кумисбаева М. М. канд. филолог. наук., доц., зав. каф.
теории и практики межкультурной коммуникации
КазУМО и МЯ.
Печатается по плану издания Министерства образования и
науки Республики Казахстан на 2006 г.
A
4602020102
00(05) - 06
ISBN 9965-736-93-6
С. Г. , 2006
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© Ахметова
Short stories for oral and written reproduction
Введение
Сборник коротких рассказов состоит из легких для понимания
фабульных текстов, которые расположены в основном по степени
трудности.
Преподаватель сначала должен дать незнакомые слова и
фразеологические сочетания в переводе на русский или казахский
языки, обращая внимание на трудно произносимые слова. Затем текст
должен быть прочитан преподавателем. Следующим этапом служат
ответы на вопросы, данные к тексту. Преподаватель или хорошо
владеющий языком студент читает текст во второй раз. После
прослушивания текста во второй раз студенты работают в парах,
задают вопросы по тексту и отвечают на них. Затем меняются ролями.
Предпосланные к каждому рассказу вопросы и ответы на них
позволяют студентам улучшить навыки устной речи, а также развить
их память. Текст пересказывается в парах.
Последний этап – пересказ текста каждым студентом у доски,
причем желательно давать пересказ близко к тексту, что позволяет
сохранить структуру текста.
Можно дать также письменное изложение текста для развития
навыков письма.
Сборник рассказов рассчитан на широкий круг людей,
изучающих английский язык.
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HENRY HUDSON
About three hundred years ago a brave sailor, Henry Hudson by name, set
out from England in a small ship, with a small crew to sail across the Atlantic
Ocean. Three times they returned home with wonderful stories of difficulties
which they had to go through. The fourth time Hudson set out from England in a
boat called “The Discovery”. He explored Hudson Strait and Hudson Bay and
named them after himself, as the first man to discover them.
Then troubles began. Winter came in. Ice began to cover the bay and
they could not escape from it. There was little food, many sailors were ill.
And the crew rebelled. They tied Hudson, his little son, and a few others,
placed them in an open boat and left them in an icy sea, far from help,
without food and water. Nobody heard about the little boat and its starving
crew, and Hudson, this brave explorer died tragically in the waters of the
bay which he himself discovered.
Answer the following questions:
1. When did the brave sailor, Henry Hudson by name, set out from
England to sail across the Atlantic Ocean?
2. How many times did he return home?
3. What did Henry Hudson explore the fourth time?
4. What trouble did the crew have?
5. What did the crew do with Henry Hudson and some other sailors?
6. Did the brave explorer die tragically?
GEORGE WASHINGTON
Once, in the American War of Independence, a party of soldiers tried to get
a heavy gun out of a ditch. There was a corporal with the party. The soldiers were
too few to lift the heavy gun out of the ditch, yet the lazy corporal did nothing to
help them. He just stood near the ditch and shouted orders. Suddenly a tall man,
not in uniform, rode up to the corporal and asked him, “Why don’t you give the
soldiers a hand instead of only shouting orders?”
“Don’t you see that I’m a corporal?” was the angry reply.
“Oh, I see, then I’ll help them,” the tall man said, and he got busy at once.
He worked very hard with the soldiers and, at last, they managed to lift the heavy
gun out of the ditch. Then the tall man bowed politely to the corporal and said,
“Good-bye, Mr. Corporal. Next time you have too few soldiers for this kind of
work, don’t forget to send for your Commander-in-Chief. I shall be happy to give
you a hand again,” and he rode away. Only then did the lazy corporal realise who
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the tall man was, and he remembered that General Washington did not always
wear his uniform.
Answer the following questions:
1. What was a party of soldiers trying to do?
2. Who was with the party?
3. What was he doing?
4. Who rode up and what did he ask the corporal about?
5. What was the corporal’s reply?
6. What did the tall man say?
7. Did they manage to lift the heavy gun out of the ditch?
8. What did the tall man say to the corporal?
9. What did the corporal realize?
ISAAC NEWTON
When Newton was busy working out difficult problems, he stayed in
his study, forgot about everything else, and allowed nobody to disturb him.
One morning he was so busy working out a difficult problem, that forgot all
about his breakfast. His wife was afraid of disturbing him but, on the other hand,
she did not want him to be hungry. She knew it was no use calling him to
breakfast. She was also sure that if she took some food to his study, he would let it
get cold. Suddenly she remembered that her husband was very fond of soft boiled
eggs, and that he liked to boil one for himself on the small stove in his study. So
she went there with a saucepan of water and a fresh egg, put the saucepan on the
stove and gave the egg to her husband, reminding him to look at his watch and let
the egg boil for three minutes. Then she left the study. When she came back a
little later to fetch the saucepan, she saw Newton holding the egg in his hand,
while his watch was boiling in the saucepan.
Answer the following questions:
1.What was Isaac Newton working at one day?
2. What did his wife bring to Isaac Newton?
3. What did she see when she returned?
One day a man came to see Newton, but was told by his wife that her
husband was busy in his study and that nobody was allowed to disturb him.
As it was dinner-time, the visitor sat down in the dining-room to wait for
Newton. A little later Newton’s wife came in and placed a covered dish on
the table, telling the visitor that it was her husband’s dinner. When she had
left, the visitor lifted the cover and saw a boiled chicken in the dish. The
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chicken looked so good and he was so hungry that before he knew what he
was doing, he had eaten the whole bird. Now nothing was left of the
chicken in the dish but a lot of small bones. He placed the cover over them
and was just going to look for Newton’s wife, when she came in again. He
apologized for what he had done, but she told him not to worry as she had
another boiled chicken ready in the kitchen. While she was fetching it,
Newton came in to the dining-room, apologized for having kept his visitor
waiting, and lifted the cover of the dish. Seeing the bones, he turned to the
visitor and said with a smile, “See how absent-minded we scientists are! I
quite forgot I had already had my dinner.” Just then his wife came in with
another dish, the matter was explained, and everybody had a good laugh.
Answer the following questions:
1. Who came to see Newton?
2. What did the visitor do?
3. What did Newton’s wife bring?
4. Was the visitor hungry?
5. Did the visitor apologise for what he had done?
6. Who came in the dining-room?
7. What did Newton say?
8. Why did they all laugh?
He (Newton) was thus able to enunciate his law of universal
gravitation: ”Every body attracts every other with a force directly
proportional to the product of their masses and inversely proportional to the
square of the distance between them.” From this formula he was able to
deduce everything in planetary theory: the motions of the planets and their
satellites, the orbits of comets, the tides. It appeared later that even the
minute departures from elliptical orbits on the part of the planets were
deducible from Newton’s law. The triumph was so complete that Newton
was in danger of becoming another Aristotle, and imposing an insuperable
barrier to progress. In England, it was not till a century after his death that
men freed themselves from his authority sufficiently to do important
original work in the subjects of which he had treated.
Bertrand Russel, History of Western Philosophy. (From The
Dictionary of Biographical Quotation of British and American Subjects).
Answer the following questions:
1. What law was Newton able to enunciate?
2.What could he deduce from this formula?
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3. Was the triumph complete?
4. When did men free themselves to do important original work?
WALTER RALEIGH
Walter Raleigh was never tired of sailing across the seas in search of
new lands for his queen, Elizabeth I. Coming back from one of his
expeditions to America, he brought with him a sack of potatoes which were
then quite unknown in England. He had them planted in a field and when he
got the first crop, he sent some potatoes to a friend of his, and wrote telling
him to have them planted in spring. The friend’s crop was as good as
Raleigh’s, and he took a basket of potatoes to his wife. She did not know
how to cook them, so she tried to fry some in butter. Then she served the
new dish with sugar and cinnamon. However, the fried balls were hard and
had an unpleasant taste. They thought it was too cold in England for the
American potatoes to become ripe enough. So the man pulled up the plants
and burned them. When the fire had died down, and there were only ashes
left, the man happened to step on a potato lying in the ashes. The potato
split and the man saw that it was white and soft inside. Then he picked up
the split potato which now had a pleasant smell, and tasted it. The taste
was very pleasant, too.
Thus the right way of cooking potatoes was found, and soon a lot of
people were enjoying them.
Answer the following questions:
1.What was Walter Raleigh never tired of doing?
2. What did he bring coming back from one of his expeditions?
3. What did he do with potatoes?
4. Was his friend’s crop as good as Raleigh’s?
5. Whom did his friend give a basket of potatoes?
6. Did his wife know how to cook them?
7. The fried balls were hard and had an unpleasant taste, hadn’t they?
8. What did they think?
9. What did the man do?
10.What did the man see when he happened to step on a potato lying
in the ashes?
11. What did he do with the potato?
12. Thus the right way of cooking potatoes was found, wasn’t it?
Walter Raleigh brought from America not only potatoes but also the
tobacco plant. Some Indians had taught him to smoke a pipe during one of
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his expeditions, and he became quite fond of smoking. He brought a few
pipes with him but, as he wanted to start growing it in England, he brought
some tobacco plants as well.
One evening, soon after his return home, Raleigh was sitting in his
study, writing and smoking a pipe when his servant came in with a letter.
He had never seen anybody smoking before, and when he saw smoke
coming out of his master’s nose and mouth, he was sure the poor man was
on fire. He ran out of the study, found a pail of water, and was back again in
no time. He lifted the pail and threw the water all over his master, before
Raleigh could stop him.
Answer the following questions:
1. What else did Walter Raleigh bring from America?
2. What had some Indians taught him to do?
3. Did Walter Raleigh want to plant tobacco in England as well?
4. What was Walter Raleigh doing one evening?
5. Had his servant seen anybody smoking before?
6. What did his servant do?
JONATHAN SWIFT
Swift, the author of “Gulliver’s Travels” , had many friends and he
often received presents from them. The presents were generally sent by
messengers. Swift liked receiving presents, but he was far from being
generous, and he never gave any tips to the messengers.
Once, however, a messenger boy, who had often brought him presents
and had never yet got a tip, taught him a lesson.
One day the messenger boy came to Swift’s house with a heavy basket
full of game, fish and fruit. He knocked at the door and the author opened it
himself. The boy gave him the basket and said it was from Mr. Brown. He
was just going away when Swift stopped him and said, “Come back, my
boy, and learn to be polite. Imagine yourself to be me, and I will be you.”
Then he bowed politely to the messenger and said , “Sir, Mr. Brown sends
you a little present of game, fish and fruit, and asks you to do him the
honour of accepting it.”
“Oh, very well, my boy,” replied the young messenger, “tell Mr.
Brown I am much obliged to him, and here is half a crown for yourself.”
Swift smiled and gave the witty messenger boy a generous tip, for the
first time in his life.
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Answer the following questions:
1. Did Jonathan Swift have many friends?
2. What did Jonathan Swift like to receive?
3. Who taught Jonathan Swift a lesson?
4. What did the boy say when he brought a basket full of game, fish
and fruit?
5. What did Jonathan Swift say to the boy?
6. What did the boy reply?
7. What did Swift give the messenger?
THE INDIAN AND THE SPANIARD
A Spaniard was riding across deserted country in South America.
Suddenly his horse went lame. He felt very nervous because he saw that the
horse would never be able to carry him home. A little later he saw an Indian
riding a fine fresh horse and asked him to exchange horses. The Indian
refused to do this. The Spaniard used force and made the Indian give up his
horse. He rode away, leaving his lame horse to the Indian. The Indian
followed him until he reached a town where he found a Spaniard.
The Spaniard had to appear before the judge. The Spaniard told the
judge that the horse was his own. The Indian asked the judge to send for the
horse. This was done, and the Indian, throwing his cloak over the horse’s
head, said to the judge: “This man says that the horse is his, let him,
therefore, tell you which of its eyes is blind.”
The Spaniard said at once: “The right one.” The Indian, taking off the cloak,
exclaimed: “Neither the right eye nor the left; the horse is not blind at all.”
The judge had to say that the horse must be returned to the Indian and
ordered the Spaniard to pay a large sum of money to the Indian.
Answer the following questions:
1. Who was riding across deserted country in South America?
2. What suddenly happened to his horse?
3. Did he feel very nervous?
4. Whom did he see a little later?
5. What did he ask the Indian?
6. What did the Spaniard do?
7. The Indian followed him until he reached a town, didn’t he?
8. Had the Spaniard to appear before a judge?
9. What did the Spaniard tell the judge?
10.What did the Indian ask the judge to do?
11.What did the Indian do and what question did he ask?
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12.What was the Spaniard’s answer?
13.What did the judge say?
THE INDIAN AND TWO TRAVELLERS
Two men were travelling in a very wild part of America. They saw no
modern houses and no traces of civilization for many days. What they saw were
only a few huts made of wood or tents where Indians lived. One day they met an
old Indian who did not work but hunted animals and ate them as his food. He was
very clever and knew everything about the forest and the animals living in it and
many other things. He could also speak English quite well.
“Can you tell us what the weather will be like during the next few
days?” one of the travelers asked him. “Oh, yes,” he said. “Rain is coming,
and wind. Then there will be snow for a day or two but then the sunshine
will come again and the weather will be fine.”
“These old Indians seem to know more about Nature than we with all
our science,” said the man to his friend.
“Tell me,” he said, “how do you know all that?”
The Indian answered: “I heard it on the radio.”
Answer the following questions:
1. Who was travelling in a very wild part of America?
2 What did they see there?
3 Whom have they met?
4. What did the old Indian do?
5. What question did the travelers ask the old Indian?
6. What did the old Indian tell them?
7. Were they surprised at the old Indian’s answer?
8. How did the old Indian explain his knowledge of the weather?
THE BOYS AND THE BURGLAR
John Brown had been invited by his uncle to spend a couple of weeks
at his house together with a friend of his, Peter Smith.
One day John’s uncle and aunt had to go to the neighboring town on
business, and fearing that they might be very late, they decided to spend the
night at a hotel. So the two boys were left alone in the house.
In the middle of the night John was wakened by a noise in the sitting-room
below. He wakened his friend and whispered, “Peter, there’s somebody
downstairs. What on earth shall we do?” As quietly as they could they went down
into the hall, where a gun was hanging on the wall.
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John seized it, and they crept across to the half-open door of the
sitting-room. Through it they saw a man bending over the writing-table; on
another table were a lot of silver things which he had already collected.
Now he was evidently looking for money.
John whispered to his friend, “I shall say ‘Hands up!’, and you must
go to the telephone, ring up the police, and tell them to come at once.” Peter
went off, and John threw open the door, pointed the gun at the burglar, and
shouted, “ Hands up! Stand still, or I shoot!” The man obeyed at once.
In the meantime Peter rang up the police and was told that they would be
there in five minutes. Those five minutes seemed like as many hours, but at last
the police-car arrived, Peter opened the front door, and the burglar was arrested.
The gun, which of course was not loaded, was then put back in its
place on the wall.
Answer the following questions:
1. Who was invited by his uncle to spend a couple of weeks at his house?
2. Where did his uncle and aunt go one day ?
3. Were the boys left alone in the house?
4. Why was John awakened in the middle of the night?
5. Did John wake his friend Peter?
6. Where did they go?
7. What did John take?
8. What did they see in the sitting-room?
9. What did John whisper to his friend?
10.What did John do?
11.What did Peter do?
12.Did the police come in five minutes?
13.Did these five minutes seem hours?
14.Was the burglar arrested?
15.Was the gun loaded?
16.What do you think of the boys?
STARFISH
(From “Reader’s Digest)
As the old man walked the beach at dawn, he noticed a young man
ahead of him picking up starfish and flinging them into the sea. Catching up
with the youth, he asked him, why he was doing this. The answer was that
the stranded starfish would die if left until, the morning sun.
“But the beach goes on for miles and there are millions of starfish,”
countered the other . “How can your effort make any difference?”
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The young man looked at the starfish in his hand and then threw it to
safety in the waves. “It makes a difference to this one,” he said.
Answer the following questions:
1. What did the old man notice?
2. What did the old man ask the young man?
3. What did the young man answer?
4. What did the old man say?
5. What was the young man’s answer?
6. Would you do the same?
THE STORY OF A CARPENTER
( William Saroyan)
My Grandmother Lucy knew no end of stories. Here is one of them
which is to illustrate the absurdity of despair. It’s the story of a carpenter
who lived many hundreds of years ago. One day on his way home he was
stopped by a friend who said:
“My brother, why do you look so sad? Is anything the matter?”
“You too would feel as I do,” the carpenter replied, “If you were in
my shoes.”
“What is it?” his friend asked.
“By tomorrow morning,” the carpenter said, “I must have eleven
thousand eleven hundred eleven pounds of fine sawdust for the King, or
else I shall lose my head.”
The carpenter’s friend smiled and put his arm around the carpenter’s
shoulder.
“My friend,” he said, “cheer up. Let us go and eat and drink and forget
tomorrow. Never give way to despair.”
So they went to the carpenter’s home, where they found the
carpenter’s wife and children in tears. But the carpenter’s friend told them
to stop crying. And they all began eating, drinking, talking , singing and
dancing.
In the midst of laughter, the carpenter’s wife began to weep and said:
“So, my husband , in the morning you are to lose your head and we
are all enjoying ourselves. So it is that way.”
“Don’t give way to despair,” the carpenter said. “It’s no use.” And
they continued eating, drinking, singing and dancing.
When the light pierced the darkness and it was day, everyone became
silent and stricken with fear and grief. From the King came his men and
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knocked softly at the door of the carpenter’s house. And the carpenter said:
“Now I must go to die,” and opened the door.
“Carpenter,” they said, “the King is dead. Build him a coffin.”
Answer the following questions:
1. Who knew many stories?
2. About whom is the story?
3. Whom did the carpenter meet on his way home?
4. What did the carpenter tell his friend?
5. What did his friend say?
6. Where did they go and what did they do there?
7. What news was brought the next day?
DEAR GRETA GARBO
(By William Saroyan)
Dear Greta Garbo:
I hope you noticed me in the newsreel of the recent Detroit Riot in which
my head was broken. I never worked for Ford but a friend of mine told me about
the strike and as I had nothing to do that day I went over with him to the scene of
the riot and we were standing around in small groups chewing the rag about this
and that and there was a lot of radical talk, but I didn’t pay any attention to it.
I didn’t think anything was going to happen but when I saw the
newsreel automobiles drive up, I figured, well, here’s a chance for me to get
to a movies like I always wanted to, so I stuck around waiting for my
chance. I always knew I had the sort of face that would film well and look
good on the screen and I was greatly pleased with my performance,
although the little accident kept me in the hospital a week.
Just as soon as I got out, though, I went around to a little theatre in my
neighborhood where I found out they were showing the newsreel in which I
played a part, and I went into the theatre to see myself on the screen. It sure looked
great, and if you noticed the newsreel carefully you couldn’t have missed me
because I am the young man in the blue-serge suit whose hat fell off when the
running began. Remember? I turned around on purpose three or four times to have
my face filmed and I guess you saw me smile. I wanted to see how my smile
looked in the moving pictures and even if I do say so I think it looked pretty good.
My name is Felix Otria and I come from Italian people. I am a highschool graduate and speak the language like a native as well as Italian. I
look a little like Rudolph Valentino and Ronald Colman and I sure would
like to hear that Cecil B. DeMille or one of those other big shots noticed me
and saw good material I am for the movies.
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The part of the riot that I missed because they knocked me out I saw in the
newsreel and I mean to say it must have got to be a regular affair, what with the
water hoses and the tear-gas bombs, and the rest of it. But I saw the newsreel
eleven times in three days, and I can safely say no other man, civilian or police,
stood out from the crowd the way I did, and I wonder if you will take this matter
up with the company you work for and see if they won’t send for me and give me
a trial. I know I’ll make good and I’ll thank you to my dying day, Miss Garbo. I
have a strong voice, and I can play the part of a lover very nicely, so I hope you
will do me a little favor. Who knows, maybe some day in the near future I will be
playing the hero in a picture with you.
Yours very truly,
Felix Otria.
Answer the following questions:
1.Whom did he write a letter?
2. Did he participate in Detroit Riot?
3. With whom did he take part in the strike?
4. What did he do when he saw newsreel automobiles?
5. Did he see the newsreel several times?
6. What did he write about himself?
7. Was he ambitious?
8. What do you think of this young man?
THE LOST GOLD PIECE
Once a rich merchant arranged dinner for poor people, ex-soldiers. Mr.
Lebeau was among the guests. After dinner Grandin, the host, showed the guests
a large gold coin. Each man examined it with interest as it passed around the long
table. However, talking and drinking the men soon forgot all about the coin. Later
on all the guests were about to leave the house. Grandin thought of the coin and
asked for it. But the coin was gone. The village lawyer being one of the guests
suggested that everybody should be searched. All at once agreed but Lebeau. His
friends looked at him with surprise. “I cannot allow it” he said. “I did not steal the
coin. I will not allow anybody to search me,” he repeated. One by one the rest
turned out their pockets but the coin was not found. Lebeau would not turn his
pocket though his friends were persuading him to. It seemed suspicious to
everybody. From that day on nobody respected Lebeau.
A few years passed. When this episode had become almost legendary,
Grandin decided to rebuild the house. A workman found the gold coin between
two planks of the floor of the room in which the dinner had taken place.
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Grandin hurried to Lebeau’s poor home and told him that he had found the
coin and apologized for having suspected him. “But why did you not allow us to
search you if you had not taken the coin?” he asked. Lebeau answered: “Because
I was a thief all the same. For weeks my family and I had not enough to eat and
my pockets were full of food that I had taken from the table to carry home for my
wife and hungry children.”
Answer the following questions:
1. Who arranged dinner for poor people?
2. Who was among the guests?
3. What did the host show the guests?
4. Did the guests forget about the coin ?
5. What did the host remind the guests of?
6. What did the village lawyer suggest?
7. Did everybody agree?
8. What did Lebeau say?
9. Did it seem suspicious to everybody?
10.What did Grandin decide to do?
11.Who found the gold coin?
12.Did Grandin go to Lebeau’s poor house to apologize for having
suspected him?
13.What did Grandin ask Lebeau?
14.What did Lebeau answer?
15.Did you expect such an ending of the story?
16.Can you retell the story?
THE FARAWAY NIGHT
(After William Saroyan)
This was a day of fog and remembrance of old days and old songs. I
remembered a song I sang to a girl on a bus once. For a while there we were
in love, but when the bus reached Topeka she got off and I never saw her
again. In the middle of the night when I kissed her she began to cry and I
got sick with the sickness of love. That was a young night in August, and I
was on my way to New York for the first time in my life. I got sick because
I was going my way and she was going hers.
The bus came to Topeka and she got off and walked around a corner
and I never saw her again. I saw many others, many of them as lovely as
she, but never another like her, never another with that sadness and
loveliness of voice, and never another who wept as she wept. There never
will another with her sadness. There never will be an American night like
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that again. She came and sat beside me, and I knew the waiting of all the
years had been for her, but when she got of the bus in Topeka I stayed on
and three days later I reached New York.
That’s all that happened except that something of myself is still there
in that warm, faraway, American night.
Answer the following questions:
1. What kind of day it was?
2. What did he remember?
3. Where did she get off the bus?
4. Where was he going?
5. Will there be another night like that?
6. Can you retell the story?
THE LITTLE PRINCE
(by Suniti Namjoshi)
The Wicked Stepmother married a king who already had a son, and within a
year she gave birth to a child, this time a daughter. Both the children were healthy
and affectionate, and good-natured and kind, and fond of one another. But this
wicked woman had an extraordinary ambition: she herself married a king, but she
wanted her daughter to reign alone. To this end she brought up the children. The
princess was tutored to assume sovereignty of her possible kingdom, while the
prince was taught to be demure and shy, and docile and gentle. The king rarely
saw them; the wicked queen fell on her knees and begged the king for a small
favour. “That depends,” said the king, “What do you want? “You have two
children,” she said, “Let the more capable rule the kingdom.” “That’s nonsense,”
said the king, but she was persistent. “Set the tests,” she said. The king refused. But
she kept on nagging till the king concurred. It could do no harm, and it would teach
her a lesson. They set the tests: hunting , drinking, tennis and mathematics, and a
knowledge of the law. The princess won. The prince failed, or nearly failed, the
entire set. The king was very angry, but he was also angry with his own son, so he
kept his word. Fortunately the citizens had more sense. They all rose up as one man
and yelled at the palace gates, “We will not be ruled by a woman.” They hauled out
the prince and set him on the throne. The wicked queen and her unlucky daughter
were exiled forever. And thus, order was restored, and justice done.
Answer the following questions:
1. Had a king a son when the Wicked Stepmother married him?
2. Did she give birth to a child within a year?
3. Were both the children healthy and affectionate?
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4. What did the wicked woman want?
5. What tuition did her daughter receive and what tuition did the
king’s son receive?
6. What did she ask the king to do?
7. What tests were the children given?
8. Was his daughter a success?
9. Did his son fail?
10.What did the king decide to do?
11.What did the citizens say at the palace gates?
12.Did the citizens set the prince on the throne?
13.What did the citizens do with the wicked queen and her daughter?
14.Was thus justice done?
15.Can you retell the story?
THE FOX AND THE STORK
(By Suniti Namjoshi)
One day a fox invited a stork for a visit. As soon as the Stork arrived Fox
started saying that she, herself, was a very progressive fox and intended fully to
respect Stork and Stork’s individuality. “Thank you,” said Stork. “Now”, said
Fox, “I do not wish to make any assumptions, and so I must ask you: do Storks in
fact eat?” “Yes,” said Stork. “How extraordinary,” said Fox, “and do they eat
food, or do they eat some amazing and unlikely dish? “We eat some unlikely and
amazing and unlikely dish,” said Stork. “How delightful ,” said Fox , “how
absolutely charming.” “And tell me,” she added, “ have Storks ever been known
to drink?” “We drink on the fifth and seventh of each month, except in a leap
year, when we drink on the third and fourteenth respectively.” “How curious,”
said Fox, “how very interesting. And can Storks speak? I mean, I see that you are
speaking, but are Storks fluent in ordinary speech?” “No,” said Stork shaking her
head sadly, “we ration words, and I’ve used up mine for at least three centuries. I
must be leaving,” and left abruptly.
In her work on Storks, Fox computed that the average stork utters
seventeen words, exactly seventeen, in every century.
Answer the following questions:
1. Whom did a fox invite one day?
2. What was the first question Fox asked Stork?
3. Do Storks eat amazing and unlikely dish?
4. Do Storks drink?
5. Can Storks speak?
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6. Did Stork leave abruptly?
7. What had Fox computed ?
THE DOWER
(By Suniti Namjoshi)
Once there was a King who had three daughters. When the first child was
born, the king was disappointed, he had wanted a son: but he felt a little better
when his wife informed him that this particular child was a special one: wherever
she walked flowers would sprout. When her second daughter was born, the same
thing happened. This time the Queen told her husband that wherever the child
walked, pearls would be found. Again he felt better. But when the third time
around another daughter was born, he was really rather angry, and this time
unfortunately there was no consolation, because the Queen, her mother, had died
in childbirth. The three little princesses were not very happy, but they grew up
somehow. And, in time, the first and the second married the princes of
neighbouring kingdoms. But the marriage of the third presented a problem: she
had nothing to offer. It was, of course, possible that the third princess also had a
talent, but nobody knew just what it was. Certainly, when she walked, absolutely
nothing happened. The King, her father, got more and more exasperated. People
started whispering that his third daughter was not a real princess, because when a
princess walked, something should happen. Things were going from bad to worse,
but then suddenly a miracle happened: the princess fell down and cut her foot and
a ruby formed where the blood appeared. The King was gratified, the people were
stunned. It was forthwith decreed that the third princess must always walk
barefoot. Never was the King richer or happier, never were the people more likely
to be prosperous, and, as for the princess, her feet were in ribbons, and her path
was strewn with glass and stones.
Alternative Ending
Before the miracle happened, the King, in sheer desperation , married
her off to a poor swineherd, who lived on the very borders of the kingdom.
She and the swineherd were very poor, so her shoes got worn out and she
cut her foot. Sure enough a ruby formed where the blood appeared.
Fortunately for her the swineherd was sensible. He sold the jewel and
bought her some shoes.
Still Another Ending
The first princess became a florist. The second princess dealt in pearls.
And the third princess occasionally produced a ruby, but only when it suited
her.
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Answer the following questions:
1. Who had three daughters?
2. Why was the King disappointed when the first child was born?
3. What did the Queen inform him about?
4. What happened when the second child was born?
5. What did the Queen tell the King this time?
6. Did the King feel better?
7. Was the King really angry when the third child was born?
8. Was there any consolation this time?
9. Did the Queen die in childbirth?
10.Were the three princesses very happy?
11.Whom did the first and the second princesses marry?
12.Did the marriage of the third princess present a problem?
13.What did people start whispering?
14.Did suddenly a miracle happen one day?
15.Was the King gratified ?
16.Did the King become richer?
17.Was her path strewn with glass and stones?
18.What alternative endings did the author suggest ?
19.Did you like the story?
20.Can you retell it?
A FISH STORY
Once a group of tourists who were staying at a hotel in Birmingham
were having dinner in the restaurant. Fish was brought and while they were
eating it some of them told interesting stories about finding pearls and other
valuable things inside fish.
An old gentleman, who up to now had listened quietly to their
conversation, at last said:
“I’ve heard all your stories, and now I’ll tell you one. When I was a
young man I was employed in a large importing house in New York, and as
is usual with young persons, I fell in love with a pretty young girl. Very
soon we were engaged. About two months before our marriage was to take
place, I was suddenly sent to Birmingham on very important business. I left
my sweetheart, promising to write to her.
“I was obliged to stay in Birmingham longer than I had expected. At
last my work was done, and I could leave Birmingham. But just before I left
for home, I bought a beautiful and very expensive diamond ring, intending
to give it to my sweetheart.
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“On my way to New York, I was looking through the morning
newspaper, which had been brought on board by the pilot. Suddenly I saw
an announcement of my sweetheart’s marriage with another. This made me
so angry that I threw the ring overboard. A few days later, when dining at a
hotel in New York, fish was brought. While I was eating it I bit on
something hard. What do you think it was?”
“The diamond ring,” cried his companions. “No,” said the old
gentleman sadly, “it was a fish-bone.”
Answer the following questions:
1. Who was staying at a hotel?
2. What stories did they tell while they were eating fish?
3. What did the old man say?
4. Did he fall in love with a young girl when he himself was a young man?
5. Were they engaged very soon?
6. Where was the young man sent?
7. Did he stay in Birmingham longer than he had expected?
8. What did he buy for his sweetheart?
9. What did he read in the newspaper on his way home?
10.What did he do with the diamond ring?
11.What was brought when he was having dinner at a hotel?
12.What question did he ask his companions?
13.What did they answer?
14.And what did the old man say?
THE BEE
There was once a great artist in Belgium who said that his daughter
should never marry anyone but an artist. But she loved a blacksmith and the
blacksmith was in love with her. When she told him that her father did not
allow her to marry anyone but an artist, he left his trade and studied hard in
order to become a painter. He was certainly a man of great talent, as in a
short time he became a good painter. One day the young painter went to the
artist’s studio and, finding that the artist was not at home, decided to wait
for him. Nobody had seen him come into the studio. He looked round at the
pictures. At last he took a brush and painted a bee on the leg of one of the
figures and then stood aside to look at it. Suddenly he heard somebody open
the door. He quickly put the brush down and turned to the door. The artist
was not yet in the room and did not see his visitor put the brush in its place.
When he came in he saw the bee on the leg of one of the figures: he thought
that it was a real bee and tried to brush it off. When the young painter saw
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this he could not help smiling. The artist smiled too when he saw his
mistake and said that it was a wonderful little painting. The young man told
him the whole story and soon after that the young painter and the artist’s
daughter got married.
Answer the following questions:
1. What did the great artist in Belgium say?
2. Whom did his daughter love?
3. Did the young man leave his trade when she told about her father’s will?
4. Did the blacksmith work hard?
5. Where did the young man go one day?
6. Was there anybody in the artist’s studio?
7. What did the young man paint?
8. What did the artist think when he saw the bee on one of the figures?
9. The artist smiled when he saw his mistake, didn’t he?
10. Did the young man tell the artist the whole story?
11.Did the young man marry the artist’s daughter?
A DILEMMA
Tom’s Uncle Philip was an inventor and was extremely rich. He was a
strange old man, he lived alone, had no wife or friends, and spent all his
money in buying precious stones.
One day, about a week before Uncle Philip died, he sent for his
nephew. Here it must be explained that this was the first time the two had
met. Many years earlier Philip had had a big quarrel with his sister, who
was Tom’s mother, and since then he had never spoken to her again, or to
Tom. He hated them both very much.
When Tom came to see him, Uncle Philip was lying ill in bed. “I am
leaving all my precious stones to you. You will find them in an iron box in
the bank. But before you unlock the box, read the letter which lies on top of
it. Also, be careful not to shake the box.”
Tom thought that this was very strange, but as his uncle was known to
be a strange man, he believed that everything would be all right.
After Uncle Philip’s death Tom went to the bank for the box. Before
he started to open it, he read the letter. Here is what it said:
“Dear Tom,
This box contains a large number of precious stones. I am leaving
them to you because I want you always to remember your dear uncle. The
box also contains a powerful charge of dynamite which will explode as soon
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as you unlock it. If you do not believe me, open it and you will be blown
into atoms. Do not forget your uncle.”
He thought for a whole week until he got the idea of opening the box
from a distance with the aid of wires. He would not be injured if the
dynamite exploded. But then he realized that if the dynamite exploded it
would blow the stones into bits.
From that time on Tom could think of nothing but the box and the
fortune that awaited him if he could open it safely. He asked everyone he
knew for advice. Some people suggested ways of opening the box, but they
did not believe in their ideas enough to try them out.
One day a government official came to collect the tax on Tom’s
inheritance. Tom was delighted. He showed the tax collector Uncle Philip’s
letter and offered him the key to the box. The man said he would think it
over and come back later. Of course, he never came back. Would you? So
there is Tom’s dilemma. A rich man, he is at the same time poor. He has an
iron box that contains great wealth, but also contains dynamite that will
explode when the key is used to unlock it.
What would you advise?
Answer the following questions:
1. What was Tom’s Uncle Philip?
2. He was a strange man, wasn’t he?
3. Whom did he send a letter one day?
4. With whom did Philip have a big quarrel?
5. What did Uncle Philip tell Tom?
6. Where did Tom go after his Uncle’s death?
7. What was written in Uncle Philip’s letter?
8. Could Tom find the way out?
9. What do you think about this situation?
A CANDID LETTER OF A MEDICAL STUDENT TO HIS UNCLE
Dear Uncle!
I am glad to inform you that I live now in quite comfortable lodgings. My
room is a bit small, rather dark and terribly cold, for my landlady requires extra pay
for heating it. But I have to put up with it as I can’t afford a better one. I even find
my room nice and cozy. Though, to tell the truth, I can’t call it quiet. Some goodfor-nothing young people will make an awful noise upstairs. Almost every evening
they dance and sing drunken songs and laugh at silly things. All of it greatly
interferes with my studies. They try to make friends with me but I firmly decline
their friendship. I keep company only with people who indulge in professional
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conversation and never drink anything stronger than tea. I, myself, drink nothing but
water from the hospital filter and eat my bread stale. I get up very early and go to
bed very late. I spend my days in reading for the examination, and my nights in
dissecting. I need lots of money to buy books and pay the dissecting-room. I hate to
ask you to send me an extra sum of money. I think it a shame!
Your affectionate nephew,
Harry Jones.
P.S. I have made up my mind to tear this shameful letter to pieces, but
my landlady has already sent it of her own accord. Now I do nothing but
worry, for I hate to trouble you. I hope the postman will lose it.
Answer the following questions:
1. What did the nephew write to his Uncle about his room?
2. What did he write about his friends?
3. What did he write about his studies?
4. What did he ask his Uncle about in the end of his letter?
5. What did he write in his P.S.?
IN THE NICK OF TIME
The steamer is on the point of leaving. The passengers are lounging on
the deck waiting for the start. One of them notices a cyclist in the distance.
The man is riding in the direction of the steamer. He is in a terrible hurry.
He is doing his best to catch the boat, but his chance is small indeed. The
sailors’ hands are on the gangway. Then a sporting passenger exclaims: “I
bet a shilling he will miss it!” “I bet he won’t!” retorts another. The deck
becomes a scene of excitement. Some are sure he won’t catch the steamer.
Others hope he will. In the very nick of time the cyclist jumps off his
bicycle and runs up the gangway welcomed by laughter and loud cries,
“Hurrah! He has done it! What a brick!”
The man pays but little attention to the greetings. “Cast off!” he cries
in a loud commanding voice, for he is the captain of the steamer.
Answer the following questions:
1. Is the steamer on the point of leaving?
2. What are the passengers doing?
3. What did one of the passengers notice?
4. Did the deck become a scene of excitement?
5. Did the cyclist come in the nick of time?
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6. How did the passengers meet him?
7. He was the captain of the steamer, wasn’t he?
THE BLIND MEN AND THE ELEPHANT
There were six blind men who stood by the roadside every day, and
begged from the people who passed. They had often heard of the elephants,
but of course, they had never seen one. It happened one day that an elephant
was driven down the road where they stood. When they were told that the
huge beast was before them they asked the driver to let him stop so that they
might see him. Of course, they could not see with their eyes; but they
thought that by touching him they could learn just what kind of animal he
was. The first one happened to put his hand on the elephant’s side.
“Well, well! Now I know all about the beast,” he said. “He is exactly
like a wall.”
The second fellow felt only of the elephant’s task.
“My brother,” he said, “you are mistaken. He is not like a wall. He is
round, smooth, and sharp. He is more like a spear than anything else.”
The third happened to take hold of the elephant’s trunk.
“Both of you are wrong,” he said. “Anybody can see that this
elephant is like a snake.”
The fourth reached out and grasped one of the animal’s legs.
“Oh, how blind you are! It is very clear that he is round and tall like a tree!”
The fifth was a very tall man and he happened to take hold of the
elephant’s ear.
“The blindest man ought to know,” he said, “that this beast is not as
you think he is. He is exactly like huge fan.”
The sixth was very blind indeed and it was some time before he found
the elephant at all.
“Oh, foolish fellows,” he cried, “you surely have lost your senses.
Any man can easily see that this animal is exactly like a rope.”
Then the elephant moved on and the six blind men sat and quarreled
about him. Each believed that he knew exactly how the animal looked; and
each called the other hard names because they did not agree with him.
People who have eyes sometimes act as foolishly.
Answer the following questions:
1. Had six blind men ever met an elephant?
2. Who was driven down the road one day?
3. What did the first (second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth) blind man say
about the elephant?
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4. Did each believe that he knew exactly how the animal looked?
5. Do people who have eyes act as foolishly?
DAILY BREAD
(After O’Henry)
Miss Martha was 40 years old but she was not married. She had her
own shop, where she sold bread, both fresh and stale which was cheaper.
There was a customer who called at her shop two or three times a
week. The man was not young but he was very pleasant. He wore cheap
clothes but they always looked nice on him. He always bought stale bread
and never fresh. Miss Martha decided that he was very poor. She always
thought of him and was always sorry that she could not invite him to have
dinner with her. She wanted to talk to him, to know more about him. She
liked the man and began wearing her best dress. She wanted to help the
poor man but didn’t know how.
Once when her customer called on her to buy stale bread, Miss Martha
had an idea and a good one, as she thought, to help him. She put some
butter in the stale bread.
The next day two men came into the shop. One of them was her
customer and the other – a young man. The customer was very angry and
couldn’t speak to her. So the young man told Miss Martha everything: “We
work together in the same office. We use stale bread to take away pencil
lines. We have worked at a plan of a new district for six months. We
finished it this morning and began taking away pencil lines from it with
your bread. You see butter is not good for it and we can’t show this plan to
anybody now.”
When the men left Miss Martha went to her room upstairs, took off
her best dress and put on her old brown one.
Answer the following questions:
1. What can you say about Martha?
2. Who came to her shop every week?
3. Can you describe him?
4. What did Martha think about him?
5. What did Martha do to ‘help’ him?
6. Who came to the shop the next day?
7. What did the young man tell Martha?
8. What did Martha do when the men left?
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JIMMY VALENTINE’S REFORMATION
(O’Henry)
Jimmy Valentine was released that day.
“Now, Valentine,” said the warden, “you’ll go out today. Make a man
of yourself. You are not a bad fellow really. Stop breaking open safes and
be honest.”
“Me?” said Jimmy in surprise. “Why, I’ve never broken a safe in my
life.” The warden laughed. “Better think over my advice, Valentine.”
In the evening Valentine arrived in his native town, went directly to
the cafe of his old friend Mike and shook hands with Mike. Then he took
the key to his room and went upstairs. Everything was just as he had left it.
Jimmy removed a panel in the wall and dragged out a dust-covered suitcase.
He opened it and looked fondly at the finest set of burglar’s tools. It was a
complete set made of special steel. The set consisted of various tools of the
latest design. Over nine hundred dollars they had cost him.
A week after the release of Valentine there was a new safe-burglary in
Richmond. Two weeks after that another safe was opened. That began to interest
the detectives. Ben Price, a famous detective, got interested in these cases.
“That’s all Jimmy Valentine’s work. He has resumed business. He has got
the only tools that can open any safe without leaving the slightest trace.”
One afternoon Jimmy Valentine came to Elmore, a little town in
Arkansas. A young lady crossed the street, passed him at the corner and
entered a door over which was the sign “The Elmore Bank.” Jimmy
Valentine looked into her eyes, forgot what he was and became another
man. She lowered her eyes and blushed slightly. Young men of Jimmy’s
style and looks were not often met in Elmore. Jimmy called a boy who was
standing on the steps of the bank and began to ask him questions about the
town and the people of the town. From this boy he learnt that this girl was
Annabell Adams and that her father was the owner of the bank.
Jimmy went to a hotel and registered as Ralf Spencer. To the clerk he
said that he had come to Elmore to start business. The clerk was impressed
by the clothes and manner of Jimmy and he was ready to give Jimmy any
information. Soon Jimmy opened a shore-store and made large profits. In all
other respects he was also a success. He was popular with many important
people and had many friends. And he accomplished the wish of his heart.
He met Miss Annabel Adams and she fell in love with him too. Annabel’s
father, who was a typical country banker approved of Spencer. The young
people were to be married in two weeks. Jimmy gave up safe-burglary for
ever. He was an honest man now. He decided to get rid of his tools.
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At that time a new safe was put in Mr. Adams’ bank. The old man was
very proud of it and insisted that everyone should inspect it. So one day the
whole family with children went to the bank. Mr. Adams enthusiastically
explained the workings of the safe to Spencer. The two children were
delighted to see the shining metal and the funny clock. While they were thus
engaged Ben Price, the detective, walked into the bank and stood at the
counter watching the scene. He told the cashier that he was just waiting for
the man he knew. Suddenly there was a loud scream from the women.
Unseen by the elders, May, the smallest girl had shut herself in the vault.
“It’s impossible to open the door now,” said Mr. Adams in a
trembling voice “because the clock of the safe hasn’t been wound. Oh, what
shall we do? That child – she can’t stand it for long because there isn’t
enough air there!”
“Get away from the door, all of you,” suddenly commanded Spencer.
And it must be mentioned that Jimmy happened to have his suitcase with
him because he was going to get rid of it that day. Very calmly he took out
the tools and in ten minutes the vault was opened. The others watched him
in amazement. The little girl , crying, rushed to her mother.
Jimmy took his suit-case and came up to Ben Price whom he had
noticed long before. “Hello, Ben,” he said , “Let’s go. I don’t think it
matters much now.” And then suddenly Ben Price acted rather strangely.
“I guess, you are mistaken Mr. Spencer,” he said. I don’t seem to recognize
you. I think your fianceé is waiting for you, isn’t she?” And Ben Price
turned and walked out of the Bank.
Answer the following questions:
1. Jimmy Valentine was released that day, wasn’t he?
2. What did the warden say to Valentine?
3. Where did he arrive in the evening?
4. What did he do at home?
5. Was there a case of safe-burglary in Richmond?
6. Who got interested in this case?
7. What did the detective think?
8. Where did Jimmy come one afternoon?
9. Whom did he see there?
10.Did Jimmy go to a hotel?
11.Was the clerk impressed by the clothes and manner of Jimmy?
12.What kind of business did he open in Elmore?
13.Why did he become popular?
14.Did the young girl fall in love with him?
15.What happened one day in the bank?
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16.Could Jimmy manage to save the child?
17.Whom did he come to after the safe was opened?
18.How did the famous detective behave?
19.What do you think of this story?
A CENT CUT INTO TWO PIECES
(After O’Henry)
I worked at an office. I wrote short stories about life in New York.
One day, as I was engaged at the office, Tripp came in. I didn’t know
exactly where Tripp was working, but he was very poor. He was pale and
unhealthy, and whenever he came I knew that he was going to ask me for a
dollar, and then spend it on whisky.
This time Tripp looked more unhappy than ever.
“Well, Trip, how are you?” said I. “Have you got a dollar, Mr.
Chalmers?” asked Tripp. “Would you like a good plot for a story? I’ve got
an excellent one. It will probably cost you a dollar or two.”
“What is the story?” I asked impatiently.
“It’s a girl. A real beauty. She had lived in a village for twenty years
and has never seen New York City before. I happened to meet her in the
street. I was passing by when she addressed me and asked where she could
find George Brown. Asked me where she could find George Brown in New
York! She comes from a little village and has seen nothing in her life but
farms. I talked to her. She told me she was going to marry a farmer next
week. But there had been a certain George Brown who had left the village
some years ago and gone to the city to earn money.
He never returned to the village. But before marrying the farmer Ada – her
name is Ada – wants to find George Brown and to have a talk with him as she
seems to care for him still. That is why she has come to New York ... I couldn’t
leave her alone. She told me that she had spent all her money and that she didn’t
know what to do and where to go. So I took her to a boarding house and left her
there. I want you to come with me to see her.”
“What nonsense you are talking, Tripp,” said I. “I thought you had a
plot of a story.”
“Oh, it will make a story , I assure you,” said Tripp. “You can
describe the girl and add a lot about true love – well, you know how to do it
and it will cost you only four dollars.”
“How will it cost me four dollars?” I asked.
“One dollar to the landlady in the boarding house,” Tripp answered,
“and two dollars to pay the girl’s fare home.”
“And the fourth dollar?” I asked.
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“One dollar to me,” said Tripp. “for whisky. Are you coming?”
There was nothing to be done but I said to myself that Tripp would
never persuade me to give him his dollar for whisky. Angrily I accompanied
him to the boarding house. Tripp was right; she was a beauty. We found
Ada comfortably sitting in an armchair and crying. She told me everything.
When she spoke about George Brown tears came to her eyes. What could I
do? I was not George.
“George and I,” she went on, “loved each other. When he was
nineteen – that was six years ago – he left the village and went to New York
to earn money. He said he would come back to me. But I never heard from
him any more. On the day we parted George and I cut a cent to two pieces.
I took one piece and he took the other, and we promised to be devoted to
each other. Something has happened to him, I am sure. It certainly was very
silly of me to come here looking for him. I never even suspected what a big
place New York is.”
And then Tripp and I told her how important it was for her to stop
looking for the unlucky George and to return home at once.
I paid the landlady a dollar, and the three of us left the boarding house.
I bought a ticket and a rose for Ada. We saw her off. And then Tripp and I
looked at each other. Tripp seemed even more unhappy than usual.
“Can you make a story of it?” he asked me. “Not a line,” said I.
“There is nothing interesting in this adventure; but we have helped Ada. Let
us try to forget it,” said I. I did not want to give Tripp his dollar for
whisky. Just as we were walking toward the bus stop, Tripp took out his
handkerchief, and I saw a cheap silver watch chain. Something was hanging
on the watch chain . It was a half of a cent that had been cut into halves.
“What?” I said, looking at him with surprise . “Oh, yes, he answered ,
“my real name is George Brown. But what’s the use ?” Without another
word I took Tripp’s whisky dollar out of my pocket and put it into his hand.
Answer the following questions:
1. What was the author’s job?
2. Who came to his office?
3. What did Tripp ask the author to do?
4. About whom did Tripp tell him?
5. Did the author go to see the girl?
6. Did the girl tell her story?
7. Did he help her to get a ticket home?
8. Could the author write a story about the girl?
9. Did Tripp show the author the second half of the coin?
10.Why didn’t Tripp tell Ada his real name?
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THE TELEGRAM
At 6 o’clock in the afternoon I went to the nearest post-office. I
bought some stamps and an envelope to send a registered letter to my
parents. When I was writing a telegram I saw a friend of mine, Briggs.
“Sending a telegram?” he asked. “May I see it?”
“Why do you want to see it?” I asked.
“Because many people don’t know how to write a telegram. They
write out a message, then they get angry that it costs a lot. Let me see your
telegram, I shall make it shorter and leave only the most important things.”
I gave him the telegram. It was a message to my wife to tell her that I
would come to her in Switzerland.
The telegram said: “Finished business well everything OK stop
arriving Friday five thirty stop book room stop.”
But the telegram did not impress Briggs, “If you had settled your
business well, doesn’t it mean everything OK?”
“I think it does,” I agreed.
“I have never known you made a bad transaction yet and your wife
knows it too. Am I right?”
“You are,” I answered.
Did your wife have to go to Switzerland along because you had to
finish business in London?”
“Yes.”
“Very well. Then it’s not necessary to write business finished. So will
save three pence a word. And why are you telling her to book a room? Your
wife must know it without any instructions.”
I had to agree with him.
“So we have made the telegram eight words shorter; arriving Friday
five thirty. Now what about ‘arriving’? If you write Friday five thirty, your
wife will understand what you mean."
And then I had an idea. I told Briggs that I didn’t have to sent a telegram at
all as the hotels were not crowded that year and it was not necessary to book a
room in advance. Besides I didn’t like when somebody met me at the station.
“Well,” said Briggs, “Do as you like, but never ask me to help you
again,” and he walked out of the post-office.
When he left the post-office I took another telegram form and wrote
the original text.
Answer the following questions:
1. Where did he go?
2. What did he buy there?
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3. Whom did he see when he was writing a telegram?
4. What did his friend ask?
5. What did he answer?
6. Why did his friend want to see the telegram?
7. Did he give the telegram to his friend?
8. What kinds of shortening the telegram did his friend suggest?
9. What did he say to all this?
10.What did he do after his friend had left the post-office?
A CAKE OF SOAP
Norman Gortsby sat on a narrow bench in the park. From the bench he
could see the street with its noisy and heavy traffic. It was 30 minutes past six and
it was almost dark. There was an old poor man in a brown coat on the bench near
him. Some minutes later he left and soon after that a young man sat down on the
bench. He said: “I’ve made the worst mistake in my life.”
“Yes?” said Gortsby.
“ I came to London this morning. It’s my first visit to this city, you
know. When I checked in at a hotel I went out to send a letter to my mother
and to buy a cake of soap, as I don’t like hotel soap. I walked a little when I
decided to come back to the hotel I couldn’t remember its name or the name
of the street it was in. And I’m afraid I’ll spend the night in the park, as I
have got no money and no friends in London. Do you find my story
impossible?” asked the young man.
“I don’t find your story impossible but I don’t think that you can show
me the soap,” said Gortsby.
The young man began looking for the soap in his coat. I have lost it,”
he said in a moment.
“It is too much to lose a hotel and a cake of soap on the afternoon,”
said Gortsby.
The young man did not say a word and left.
A few minutes later Gortsby saw a small white parcel near the bench.
Yes, it was a cake of soap. Gortsby went to look for the young man. He saw
him at the traffic lights.
“I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. Here is some money and your cake of
soap. Don’t lose it again. It has been a good friend to you,” said Gortsby.
The young man thanked Gortsby and said “Good-bye.”
When Gortsby came back to the bench he saw the old poor man in the
brown coat near that bench.
“What are you looking for?” Gortsby asked him.
“I have lost a cake of soap.”
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Answer the following questions:
1. Where did Norman Gorstby sit?
2. What could he see from the bench?
3. Who was near him?
4. Who sat near him after the old man had left?
5. What did the young man say?
6. Was this his first visit to London?
7. Where did the young man go after he had checked in a hotel?
8. What did he want to buy?
9. Did he lose the way to the hotel?
10.What question did he ask Gortsby?
11.What was the answer?
12.Could the young man show the cake?
13.He said he had lost it, didn’t he?
14.What did Gortsby say?
15.The young man left, didn’t he?
16.What did Gortsby see a few minutes later?
17.Did he go to look for the young man?
18.Did he find him?
19.What did he say to the young man?
20.What did Gortsby see when he came back?
21.What did the old man say?
ON THE TRAIN
A New Yorker was travelling west in a Pullman when a group of
chamber of commerce boosters from Kansas City Mo., boarded the train
and began to praise their city to the New Yorker, telling him of its beautiful
boulevards, large industrial establishments and its wonderful possibilities.
Finally the New Yorker became tired and said the only thing that would
improve their city would be to make it a seaport.
The enthusiastic Kansas Citians laughed at him and asked how they
could make it a seaport, being so far from the ocean.
The New Yorker replied that it would be a very easy task.
“The only thing that you will have to do,” said he “is to lay a twoinch pipe from your city to the Gulf of Mexico. Then if you can blow you
will have it a seaport inside half an hour.”
Answer the following questions:
1. Who boarded the train when a New Yorker was travelling west?
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2. What was a group of people from Kansas City telling the New
Yorker about their city?
3. Did the New Yorker become finally tired?
4. What did he say?
A FUNNY SITUATION
Henry Brown arrived at the country club dance, and discovered that
slipping on the icy pavement outside, he had torn one knee of his trousers.
“Come into the ladies’ dressing room, Henry,” said his wife. “There
is no one there and I’ll pin it up for you.”
Examination showed that the rip was too large to be pinned. A maid
furnished needle and thread and was stationed at the door to keep out intruders,
while Mr. Brown removed his trousers. His wife went busily to work.
Presently at the door sounded excited voices.
“We must come in, maid,” a woman was saying. “Mrs. Jones is ill.
Quick, let us in.”
“Here,” said the resourceful Mrs. Brown to her terrified husband, “get
into this closet for a minute.”
She opened the door and pushed her husband through it just in time.
But instantly, from the opposite side of the door, came loud thumps
and agonized voice of Mr. Brown demanding that his wife open it at once.
“But the women are here,” Mrs. Brown objected.
“Oh, damn the women!” yelled Mr. Brown. “I’m out in the ball-room.”
Answer the following questions:
1. Who came late at the country club dance?
2. What did he discover?
3. What did his wife say?
4. What did examination show?
5. Who gave needle and thread?
6. What did Mr. Brown do?
7. His wife went busily to work, didn’t she?
8. Did they hear excited voices at the door?
9. What did the woman say?
10.What did Mrs. Brown say to her husband?
11.Why did her husband demand his wife to open the door?
12.What did Mrs. Brown say?
13.What did Mr. Brown say?
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AN ABSENT-MINDED MAN
A family living in an apartment house in the suburbs of a large city
had a cat to which they were very much attached. One day the cat got sick
and finally died. As there was no rear yard to their home in which to bury
the cat, father was forced to wrap the cat up in a newspaper and take it with
him, being carefully reminded by mother to toss the bundle from the train
window when en route to his work.
Father placed his bundle upon the baggage rack over his seat, but
struck up a conversation with a fellow commuter and forgot to toss the
bundle out of the window. He took the package on to his office, thinking
that he would dispose of it on his way home that evening. But again he got
to talking to someone on the train, forgot about the cat, and still had the
bundle under his arm when he arrived home. His wife scolded him about it
and father promised to take care of the matter the next day. But once more
his memory failed him. When for the third time he arrived home still
carrying the bundle poor mother became quite angry.
“You’ve got to dispose of that cat right now,” said she. “Put it in the
furnace right now as the fireman is seldom there at this hour.”
Well, father decided perhaps he’d better take it to the basement and
put it in the furnace, but as he lifted the bundle from a table it fell open, and
lo and behold there was - a boiled ham!
Answer the following questions:
1. What did a family living in an apartment house in the suburbs of a
large city have?
2. What happened to the cat one day?
3. Why was father forced to wrap the cat up in a newspaper?
4. Where did father place the bundle?
5. Did he forget to throw the bundle out of the window?
6. Did he bring the bundle home in the evening?
7. Did his wife scold him?
8. What did he promise his wife?
9. Did his memory fail him again?
10.What did his wife say?
11.What did he see when the bundle fell open?
THE COLONEL AND THE DEVIL
The story is told of the Kentucky colonel who had an argument with
the devil. The devil said that no one had a perfect memory. But the colonel
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maintained that there was an Indian on his plantation who never forgot
anything. The colonel agreed to forfeit his soul to the devil if the Indian
ever forgot anything.
The devil went up to the Indian and said: “Do you like eggs?” The
Indian replied, “Yes.” The devil went away.
Twenty years later the colonel died. The devil thought, “Aha, here’s
my chance.” He came back to earth and presented himself before the Indian.
Raising his hand, he gave the tribal salutation, “How.”
Quick as a wink the Indian replied, “Fried.”
Answer the following questions:
1. Who had an argument with the devil?
2. What did the devil say?
3. What did the colonel say?
4. What did the colonel agree to do?
5. What did the devil say to the Indian?
6. When did the colonel die?
7. What did the devil think?
8. What did the devil say to the Indian?
9. What was the answer?
WHY DON’T YOU SAY YOU DON’T KNOW WHEN
YOU ARE ASKED SOMETHING YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND
Two young men had been invited out to dinner by their employer.
During the course of the meal the conversation drifted into channels which
got the young friends rather deep water for them.
“Do you care for Omar Khayyam?” asked their host, at one point
during the dinner, thinking to discover the literary tastes of the young men.
“Pretty well,” the one addressed replied,” “”but, personally I prefer
Chianti.”
The subject was abandoned, but on the way home the other said to his
chum.
“Why don’t you simply say you don’t know when you are asked
something you don’t understand. Omar Khayyam isn’t a wine, you idiot.
It’s a kind of cheese.”
Answer the following questions:
1. Who was invited to dinner?
2. What question did the host ask one of the friends?
3. What was the answer?
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4. Was the subject abandoned?
5. What did the other friend say on their way home?
THREE CAMELS
Noah was surprised to see three camels coming up the gangway.
“Hey!” he shouted, “one of you will have to stay ashore.”
Not me,” said the first ship of the desert, “I am the camel so many
people swallow while straining at a gnat.”
“I,” said the second, “am the camel whose back is broken by the last
straw.”
“And I,” said the third and last, “am the camel which shall pass through the
eye of a needle sooner than a rich man shall enter the kingdom of heaven.”
Noah scratched his head in perplexity. Finally, deciding that posterity
could ill spare any of these and would be lost for illustrations without them,
he let them all come aboard.
Answer the following questions:
1. Why was Noah surprised?
2. What did the first camel say?
3. What did the second camel say?
4. What did the third camel say?
5. What did Noah decide to do?
THE LEGEND OF SUNFLOWER
An Indian Legend
Once, long ago, an Indian maiden was found by a band of Indians
nearly starved to death. They took her to their chief, and because she was a
pretty child, he let her help his many wives. As she grew older, the maiden
became tall and beautiful. The Indians named her Sunflower, for she was
good to look upon. She was the best canoe paddler of the tribe, and she was
the fleetest runner of all the maidens. She could swim long distances.
Nothing seemed too difficult for her.
When she was eighteen years old, the chief adopted her as his
daughter. Then she went to live with the chief’s favourite wife and her
daughter, Woodbird. Sunflower and Woodbird were happy together, until
all of Woodbird’s suitors began to pay more attention to Sunflower. This
made Woodbird jealous and Sunflower quite vain. But she did not offer any
encouragement to the suitors, for she thought none of them were great
enough warriors to wed her.
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One day the chief called Sunflower and told her that she must make a
choice from among her suitors for a husband. So she appointed a day on
which she would choose from her lovers the one whom she would wed.
They should, one by one, try to beat her in a canoe race. The victor she
would wed, and him only.
The day came. It was a warm September day. The birds were singing,
the wind was just strong enough to keep the leaves rustling.
The river was broken into a thousand tiny ripples, and occasionally a fish
would jump out of the water seemingly curious about the coming match.
As Sunflower and her first opponent stepped into their canoes a
handsome Indian was seen floating down the river with the palms of his
hands upward, as a sign of peace. The chief signaled for him to approach.
The young Indian said that he had come a long distance to ask for
Sunflower as his wife. The chief answered that if none of Sunflower’s many
suitors succeeded on the morrow he should try.
Then the signal was given and the canoes darted down the stream.
From the start Sunflower’s canoe was ahead of that of her suitor, and not
once did he catch up to her. When the goal was reached, Sunflower had won
the race. One after another, each suitor was beaten. This made Sunflower
more scornful and vain than ever. She sneered at their fruitless efforts.
The next day found Sunflower in her canoe and the stranger in his
canoe, both waiting for the signal. When it was given instead of shooting
down the stream with the strength of the first stroke they rose slowly up
from the river and paddled toward the sun. Slowly, slowly, they went up,
until they were lost to view among the clouds and the people stared after
them, too astonished to speak. Finally, the old chief broke the silence.
“It was Sun against whom she was to try her skill. He will wed her in his
ball of fire, and there she will have to stay because she sought to be loved and
admired, rather than to forget herself in her love and work for others.”
Answer the following questions:
1. Who was found once?
2. What did they do with her?
3. As she grew older, the maiden became tall and beautiful, didn’t she?
4. What did the Indians name her?
5. She was the best canoe paddler, wasn’t she?
6. What did the chief do when she was eighteen years old?
7. Were Sunflower and Woodbird happy together?
8. What did the chief tell Sunflower one day?
9. Whom would she marry?
10.Could anyone win the race?
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11.Who came to take part in races the following day?
12.What happened then?
13.How did the chief explain this fact?
ALFRED
King of England
And from his cradle a longing for wisdom before all things and among
all the pursuits of their present life, combined with his noble birth, filled the
noble temper of his mind; but alas, by the unworthy carelessness of his
parents and tutors he remained ignorant of letters until his twelfth year, or
even longer. But he listened attentively to
Saxon poems day and
night , and hearing them often repeated by others committed them to his
retentive memory….
When therefore, his mother one day was showing him and his brothers a
certain book of Saxon poetry which she held in her hand she said: “I will give this
book to whichever of you can learn it most quickly.” And moved by these words,
or rather by divine inspiration, and attracted by the beauty of the initial letter of the
book, Alfred said in reply to his mother, forestalling his brothers, his elders in
years though not in grace: “Will you really give this book to one of us, to the one
who can soonest understand and repeat it to you?” And, smiling and rejoicing she
confirmed it…. Then taking the book from her hand he immediately went to his
master, who read it. And when it was read, he went back to his mother and
repeated it.
Asser, Life of King Alfred, translated by L.C. Jane (from The
Dictionary of Biographical Quotation)
Answer the following questions:
1. Did he remain ignorant of letters until his twelfth year?
2. What did he listen to attentively?
3. What did their mother show them one day?
4. What did she promise to do?
5. What did Alfred say to his mother?
6. Where did Alfred go?
7. Did Alfred repeat what he had heard?
GOING HOME
(After Michael Gold)
Makins Butler was a short Negro in a yellow shirt and blue trousers.
He had a pleasant but sad face and misty eyes. For five years he had gone
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from farm to farm, now getting a little work here and there, now getting
none and always living like a homeless dog.
But he was homesick. He wanted to go back to his native land – the South.
“No,” he said one night, as he was going to bed with other workers of
a fruit ranch in California, “there is no place in all the world like South
Carolina.”
His friend, a young black giant with big, kind eyes, slapped him on the
shoulder.
“Then why don’t you go to South?” he said. “What’s holding you here?”
“Nothing’s holding me”, said Makins, and from that day on he began
to think seriously about the long trip to his native land. Makins wanted to
take home a few dollars.
At last the lucky day came. He did not want to spend his last dollars
on a ticket, so he decided to wait for a freight train. A freight train came up
and Makins arranged himself comfortably on some straw inside one of the
cars. He felt happy. But he was a hobo and hoboes lead a dangerous life,
they are often beaten. Makins traveled full of anxiety for three days, but
nothing happened to him. He knew that detective Slim lived in Maricopa
and he was hated by all Western hoboes for his mania for beating hoboes
until they were half dead. At last the train came to Maricopa. Suddenly the
door of the car opened and a tall red-faced man in a sombrero came in.
Makins was dragged out of the car into the sunlight. The man in the
sombrero was Maricopa Slim. He kicked Makins with his heavy boot. He
took Makins by the shirt and made him walk through the whole town. “Now
get out of the town!” said the detective. “I’ve got off easy,” Makins said to
himself. But suddenly a terrible blow on his head made him fall on his
knees. At another blow Makins fell on his back and Maricopa Slim began
beating him on his chest, on his arms, on his legs.
For two hours Makins lay on the sand unconscious. Then he came to
himself. With the greatest difficulty he sat up and slowly began thinking
about it all. And suddenly he remembered those fellows at the ranch who
had told him about the great fight of all the workers in the world against the
bosses, cops and detectives.
Makins decided to go back to the ranch and ask them all about it. And
he’d go with them anywhere! He got up and slowly began walking back to
the station to take the train back to California.
Answer the following questions:
1. Can you describe Makins ?
2. Where did he work?
3. Where did he want to go?
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4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
What train did he decide to take?
Who dragged Makins out of the car?
Where did Maricopa Slim take Makins?
Did Maricopa Slim beat Makins?
What did Makins decide to do after he came to himself?
“SORRY, MY FAULT”
(by George Mikes) (Abridged)
There are some people, who just cannot admit – or even see – that
they may possibly be at fault. In England, however, most people have moral
courage and they have learnt the formula: “I’m sorry, my fault.” They insist
upon it. You must not argue and say that it was your fault because they get
very angry. Once in North London I saw two cars collide and smash up
each other’s wings. Both drivers jumped out of their seats, shouting, “Sorry,
it’s my fault!” Neither of them even looked at the smashed wings and
broken lamps, but a sharp quarrel ensued as to whose fault it was, each
claiming the absolute and exclusive responsibility for himself.
These magic words, “Sorry, my fault,” are really abused. The idea is
this: what can people do to such a decent, straightforward, open-hearted
chap, who always declares that everything is his fault? He arrives at his
office half an hour late. He does not tell tales about traffic jams and trains
being late, even if one of these was in fact the sole reason for his delay. He
says: “Sorry, it is my fault. I overslept.”
Of course, it is mainly, decent and right to take the blame if you have
committed a mistake. But many people seem to think that it is even more
manly and decent if you are as innocent as a newly born lamb. It shows that
you are not only human – well, you commit mistakes – but also courageous
and honest. Criticism is silenced. One cannot quarrel with a man who says it
is his fault, insists upon this and proclaims it with pride.
I think religion is to a great extent to blame for this. Many types of
religion teach us that we may do as we like and get away with it provided
that on certain days or occasions we duly and sincerely repent. I believe that
a man can improve; but no one can improve retrospectively. You may be a
more decent chap now than you were in the past; but you cannot be a more
decent man in the past than you really were. Nothing that was said can be
unsaid, nothing that has been done can be undone. You may call your wife a
silly cow on Tuesday and the only treasure in your lonely life on
Wednesday. But you cannot explain to her on Wednesday that, when you
called her a silly cow the day before, you really meant to say she was the
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only treasure in your lonely life. You may try, of course, but only eighty per
cent of women will believe you!
In saying all this, I do not wish to hurt anybody’s feelings. If I have, I
am very sorry. My fault.
Answer the following questions:
1. Are there people who cannot admit that they may be possibly at fault?
2. What formula have people in England learnt?
3. What did the author see in North London?
4. What did both drivers say?
5. What trait of character does it show when people say: “I’m sorry
it’s my fault.”
6. What do many religions teach?
7. What do you think of the author’s opinion?
TREASURES RESCUED FROM DESTRUCTION
(By James Dudley)
During the ferocious American air raid on Dresden in February 1945,
just before the city was freed by the Soviet Army, the Art gallery was
bombed and burned out and not a trace of the paintings was to be found.
After a careful search, in which surviving art gallery employees and
leading Dresden officials helped, the pictures were found many miles away
in the mountains.
The great majority of them were piled in higgledy-piggledy in cavelike dugouts. The atmosphere was extremely damp and sticky water was
dripping from the walls.
That was the condition in which Raphaels, Rembrants, Van Dycks,
Titians and other priceless works of art were found.
What was worse, however, was that the dugouts and the entrance to
them were mined and were in danger of exploding at any moment.
On order from the Soviet commanders at the front the mines were
removed. Art experts came from Moscow to supervise the removal of the
pictures to a castle in the neighbourhood of Dresden.
Then these experts, together with leading Dresden personalities,
examined the paintings, which were then listed and packed. Since under
conditions prevailing then, it was not possible to keep the paintings in
suitable conditions in Dresden, they were sent to Moscow.
After the war all the works of art which had been removed to a place
of safety by the Soviet Army were returned to the gallery in Dresden.
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Answer the following questions:
1. When did Americans bomb Dresden?
2. Were the pictures of the Dresden Gallery found?
3. In what state were the pictures?
4. Where were the pictures sent?
5. When were the pictures returned to the gallery in Dresden?
JEWS WITHOUT MONEY
(By Michael Gold) (an extract)
My father, a house painter, was a tall lively man with Slavic cheek bones
and a red moustache. His large green eyes stared at the world like a child’s. He
was full of temperament, and my mother had to manage him constantly.
With female realism she tried to beat the foolish male dreams out of
his head. But she never succeeded in converting my father into a sober
family person. Alas, he was a man of quicksilver!
Jews are as individualized as are Chinese or Anglo-Saxons. There are
no racial types. My father, for instance, was like a certain kind of Irishman
more than the stenciled Jew.
He was born near Yassy, Roumania. He had wondered along the
Danube and through the Balkans. He had lived in the slums of
Constantinople, and had been with a band of young Jews who smuggled
tobacco from Turkey into Roumania.
He often told us stories of his old-world youth, and we children loved
to hear them.
My father was an unusual story-teller. Had he received an education,
he might have become a fine writer. I envied him then, and I envy him yet,
his streak of naive genius.
For years he soothed my little sister and me to sleep with his
delightfully fantastic tales. They were inexhaustible; each night there was a
new one, told in the darkness against evening throb of the tenement.
Some of the stories haunted me, they colored all my childhood.
Years later I read them with amazement in a book. They were nothing
more or less than the Arabian Nights.
But my father had not learnt them out of a book. He had heard them
from the lips of professional story-tellers in Oriental market-places, or from
Turkish and Roumanian peasants.
Answer the following questions:
1. What was the author’s father?
2. Can you describe him?
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3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
What did his mother try to do?
Where was his father born?
Where did he live?
What did he often tell his children?
He was an unusual story-teller, wasn’t he?
From whom did his father learn these wonderful stories?
MR. SELLYER IS SELLING BOOKS
(After Stephen Leacock)
One day I went to a bookshop to look through the new books. The
manager of the bookshop, Mr. Sellyer, showed me to the back of the
bookshop where I could find some interesting books.
While I was looking through the books, I could watch Mr. Sellyer at
work and see some of his methods.
A fashionably dressed woman was standing at the counter and Mr.
Sellyer was showing a book to her.
“You are quite sure it’s his latest?” the lady was saying to Mr. Sellyer.
“Oh, yes, Mrs. Rasselyer,” answered the manager. “This is Mr.
Slush’s latest book. It’s having a wonderful sale. It’s extremely powerful
thing. One says that it’s perhaps the most powerful book of the season.
I looked at the title, the name of the book was Golden Dreams.
Another lady entered the bookshop. She was in deep mourning and
looked like a widow. She asked the manager to show her some new book.
“Something new in fiction,” repeated the manager, “yes, Madam, here’s a
charming thing. Golden dreams – a very sweet story, extremely sweet. The critics
say that it’s one of the sweetest things written by this author.”
“Is it a good book?” asked the lady.
“A charming one,” said the manager. “It’s a love story – very simple
and sweet and wonderfully charming. My wife was reading it aloud only
last night. She was crying all the time while she was reading it.”
The lady bought Golden Dreams and left the shop.
“Have you any good light reading for vacation time?” asked the next
customer.
“Yes,” said Mr. Sellyer, “Golden Dreams that is the most humorous
book of the season. My wife was reading it aloud only yesterday. She was
laughing all the time while she was reading it.”
The lady paid for the book and went out.
And every customer who entered the shop went away with Golden
Dreams as the reading for a holiday, to another as the book to read after the
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holiday, another bought it to read on a rainy day and a fourth as the right
book for a fine day.
When I was leaving the bookshop I went up to the manager and asked
him, “Do you like the book yourself?”
“Dear me!” said the manager, “I’ve no idea of the book, I’ve no time
to read every book I’m selling.”
“And did your wife really like the book?”
“I’m not married, sir,” answered the manager smiling.
Answer the following questions:
1. Where did the author go one day?
2. Did he watch Mr. Sellyer at work?
3. Mr. Sell was showing a book to a fashionably dressed woman,
wasn’t he?
4. What did Mr. Sellyer tell the woman about the book?
5. Why did he recommend it to read?
6. What did Mr. Sellyer say to another woman?
7. Why did he recommend this book to read?
8. Did she buy the book?
9. What did Mr. Sellyer say to the third woman about the book, he
recommended to be read?
10. What question did the author ask Mr. Sellyer?
11.What was the answer?
12.And what about his wife?
A LECTURE ON WALKING
(by Stephen Leacock)
I would like to lecture on the subject of Walking. It will be a great
pleasure to me, for it is now six years since I lectured last time and saw my
students. So now I want them all back to listen to a lecture on Walking. I
want especially, not the younger ones, but those well into middle life or
even going into old age.
Now, you, sir, the large student on the left, I doubt if you can walk
half a mile. You said you had played left wing in the football team. I don’t
doubt it. But I want you all understand, gentlemen, that it’s no use your
talking about exercises you took thirty years ago. That won’t help you.
Now, gentlemen, please open your notebooks and write the heading
“Walking.” “Walking is the art of progression by setting one foot
methodically before the other and is the most universal way of motion
among people, and has been for a million year.” The same authority
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explains further that when walking one must not lift one foot into the air
before the other has come down to the ground; in other words the walker
must not have both his feet in the air.
Well, gentlemen, I think we may now come down to the question of
companionship in walking. Should one walk alone, or it is better to walk
with a companion? I hear somebody ask, “What about women?” – and I
must say I don’t like the expression of his eye as he said it. Well, gentlemen
have nothing to do with going for walks with a woman. You will find her a
bore; but in case you will find her interesting, it’s difficult to say where
your walks will lead you. Of course, you may, if you wish, go for a walk
with your little granddaughter of thirteen if you make keep her mouth shut.
But, much better, walk with a man of your own kind and age, with
whom you have nothing to speak about. But, if, by habit , you and your
companion must talk, then take care to agree about everything all the time.
Whatever he says, you answer, ‘ That’s true,’ and then you don’t need to
listen to what he is saying.
Above all, gentlemen, avoid walking with a nature lover. Nothing
spoils a walk so much as the observance of ‘nature’. Leave all that stuff out.
When you are walking, you are just out-of-doors – that’s all.
Answer the following questions:
1. What would he like to do?
2. On what subject was he going to speak?
3. Whom did he want to lecture?
4. What kind of heading did he dictate?
5. What is meant by walking?
6. What one must do while walking?
7. What kind of companionship is better while walking?
8. What advice does the lecturer give if the companion is talkative?
9. Whom should one avoid while walking?
10.Do you like walking?
11.Can you retell the story?
THE CONJURER’S REVENGE
(By Stephen Leacock)
“Now, ladies and gentlemen,” said the conjurer “having shown that
the cloth is absolutely empty, I will proceed to take from it a bowl of
goldfish. Presto!”
All around the hall people were saying, “Oh, how wonderful! How
does he do it?”
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But the Quick Man on the front seat said in a big whisper to the
people near him, “He-had-it-up-his-sleeve.”
Then the people nodded brightly at the Quick Man and everybody
whispered round the hall, “He-had-it-up-his-sleeve.”
“My next trick,” said the conjurer, “ is the famous Hindustani rings.
You will notice that the rings are apparently separate; at a blow they will
join (clang, clang, clang) – Presto!
There was a general buzz of stupefaction till the Quick Man was heard
to whisper , “He-must-have-had-another-lot-up-his-sleeve.”
Again everybody nodded and whispered , “The-rings-were-up-his-sleeve.”
The brow of the conjurer was clouded with a gathering frown.
“I will now,” he continued, “ show you a most amusing trick by
which I am enabled to take any number of eggs from a hat. Will some
gentleman kindly lend me his hat? Oh, thank you – Presto!”
He extracted seventeen eggs, and for thirty-five seconds the audience
began to think that he was wonderful. Then the Quick Man whispered along
the front bench, “He-has a hen-up-his-sleeve,” and all the people whispered
it on, “He-has-a lot-of-hens-up-his-sleeve.”
The egg trick was ruined.
It went on like that all through. It transpired from the whispers of the
Quick Man that the conjurer must have concealed up his sleeve in addition
to the rings, hens and fish and several packs of cards, a loaf of bread, a
doll’s cradle, live guinea-pigs, a fifty cent piece, and a rocking chair.
The reputation of the conjurer was rapidly sinking below zero. At the
close of the evening he rallied for a final effort.
“Ladies and gentlemen ,” he said, “I will present to you, in
conclusion, the famous Japanese trick recently invented by the natives of
Tipperary. Will you, sir,” he continued, turning towards the Quick Man,
“will you kindly hand me your gold watch?” The watch was passed to him.
“Have I your permission to put it into this mortar and pound it to
pieces?” he asked savagely.
The Quick Man nodded and smiled.
The conjurer threw the watch into the mortar and grasped a sledgehammer from the table. There was a sound of violent smashing. “He’sslipped-it-up-his-sleeve,” whispered the Quick Man.
“Now, sir,” continued the conjurer, “will you allow me to take your
handkerchief and punch holes in it? Thank you. You see, ladies and
gentlemen, there is no deception: the holes are visible to the eye.”
The face of the Quick Man beamed. This time the real mystery of the
thing fascinated him.
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“ And now, sir, will you kindly pass me silk hat and allow me to
dance on it? Thank you.”
The conjurer made a few rapid passes with his feet and exhibited the
hat, crushed beyond the recognition.
“And will you now, sir, take off your collar and permit me to burn it
in the candle? Thank you, sir. And will you allow me to smash your
spectacles for you with my hammer? Thank you.”
By the time the features of the Quick Man were assuming a puzzled
expression. “This thing beats me,” he whispered, “I don’t see through a bit.”
There was a great hush upon the audience. Then the conjurer drew himself
up to his full height and, with a withering look at the Quick Man, he concluded.
“Ladies and gentlemen you will observe that I have , with this
gentleman’s permission, broken his watch , burnt his collar, smashed his
spectacles, and danced on his hat. If he will give me the further permission
to paint green stripes on his overcoat, or to tie his suspenders in a knot, I
shall be delighted to entertain you . If not, the performance is at end.”
And amid a glorious burst of music from the orchestra the curtain fell,
and the audience dispersed, convinced that there are some tricks, at any rate,
that are not done up the conjurer’s sleeve.
Answer the following questions:
1. What did the conjurer say?
2. What were the people saying?
3. What did the Quick Man whisper?
4. What did the people whisper round the hall?
5. What was the next trick?
6. What did the Quick Man whisper this time?
7. Did everybody agree with the Quick Man?
8. What was the third trick that the conjurer demonstrated?
9. How Did the Quick Man react this time?
10.Was this trick ruined?
11.Was the reputation of the conjurer sinking below zero?
12.What trick did the conjurer demonstrate in conclusion?
13.What did the conjurer say in conclusion?
14.What did people think of the trick?
15.Did the conjurer take a revenge?
16.What do you think was the conjurer right?
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BROWN WOLF
(After J. London)
Once John Smith and his wife Mary, who lived in a small cottage in
the mountains, found a dog. He was a very wild and strange dog. He was
weak and hungry, but he did not let them touch him and ate the food they
gave him only after they had gone away.
When he was strong again, he disappeared.
A few months later, when Smith was in a train, he saw his dog
running along the road. He got off the train at the next station, bought a
piece of meat, caught the dog, and brought him home again. There he was
tied up for a week.
At the end of the week Smith tied a metal plate round the dog’s neck
with the words: “Please return to Smith, Ellen, California,” and set the dog
free. He disappeared again.
This time he was sent back by the express train, was tied up for three
days, was set free on the fourth and disappeared again.
As soon as he received his freedom, he always ran north. He always
came back hungry and weak and always ran away fresh and strong.
At last the dog decided to stay at the cottage, but a long time passed
before Smith and his wife could touch him. They called him Wolf.
One summer day a stranger came to the cottage. As soon as the dog
saw him, he rushed to the stranger and licked his hands with his tongue and
barked. Then the stranger said: “His name isn’t Wolf. It’s Brown. He was
my dog.”
“Oh,” cried Mary, “you are not going to take him away with you, are
you? Leave him here, he is happy.”
The stranger shook his head and said: ”His mother died and I brought
him up on condensed milk. He never knew any mother but me. Do you
think he wants to stay with you?”
“I am sure of it.”
“Well,” said the stranger. “He must decide it himself. I’ll say goodbye and go away. If he wants to stay, let him stay. If he wants to come with
me, let him come. I won’t call him to come back.”
For some time Wolf watched the man go, waiting for him to return.
Then he sprang after him, overtook him, caught his hand between his teeth,
and tried in vain to stop him. Then the dog ran back to where Smith and his
wife sat and tried to drag Smith after the stranger. He wanted to be at the
same time with the old master and the new one. Meanwhile the stranger had
disappeared. The dog lay down at the feet of Smith. Mary was happy, but a
few minutes later the dog got upon his feet and rushed forward. He never
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turned his head. Quicker and quicker he ran along the road and in a few
minutes was gone.
Answer the following questions:
1. What did John Smith and his wife find?
2. In what state was the dog?
3. What did the dog do when he became strong?
4. Whom did Smith see when he was in a train?
5. Did Smith take the dog home or did he leave him at the station?
6. What did Smith tie round the dog’s neck?
7. Did the dog disappear again?
8. He always came back hungry and weak and always ran away fresh
and strong, didn’t he?
9. What did the Smiths call the dog?
10.Who came to the cottage one summer day?
11.What did the dog do when he saw the stranger?
12.What did the stranger say?
13.What was Mary’s reaction?
14.What was the stranger’s suggestion?
15.What did the dog do?
AT DOVER
(After Nigel Balchin)
In travelling from Florence it is usual to go to Pisa and there to change on to
the Rome Express. In fact, there is a carriage which runs all the way from
Florence, but you will be told that it is reserved for Very Important People.
On the particular occasion that I speak of, it also took Miss Bradley,
who certainly did not look important. She looked more like an out-of-work
nurse, and I noticed her because of her surprising ugliness. She was a rather
large, heavy woman of about thirty-five, with a big red nose; and she had
one of those skin diseases which had covered her face with spots.
When I went to the dining car, Miss Bradley was already seated, and
the man who was attending to us placed me opposite her.
I think we may have exchanged half a dozen words at dinner, when
passing the sugar or the bread to one another. And after we left the dining
car I did not see Miss Bradley again until we reached Calais.
She was then trying very hard to get out of the train at Calais Town,
where we stopped for a moment, and a man was trying equally hard to
explain that she must get out at Calais Port.
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This time I certainly spoke to Miss Bradley and said, “It’s the next
stop. This is Calais Town.” And Miss Bradley said, “Oh, I see. Thank you.”
And then, when we reached the sea, we really began to know each
other. I called the porter from the window of the train. When I got out I saw
Miss Bradley helpless standing with two large suit-cases and crying
“Porter!” and I was filled with pity.
I smiled at her and said, “My porter can take your cases, if you like.”
“Oh, thank you,” she said. “It is very kind of you.”
In less than ten minutes I realized that Miss Bradley was very dull.
But I considered that I should certainly have to see Miss Bradley safely off
the boat at Dover and on to her train. So I went to the office on board and
bought myself a seat on the Golden Arrow.
Miss Bradley was traveling by the ordinary train, so we should
separate at Dover.
At Dover the porter put our suit-cases together and we waited for the
examiner. I showed my suit-cases and the examiner chalked the cases. Then
without examining Miss Bradley’s suit-cases he went to another man. I said:
“Well, I’ll say good-bye now and go to find my train. I expect he’ll come back to
you next. The porter will bring all our cases to the trains when you’ve finished.
Good-bye.”
I found my seat in the Golden Arrow and began to read. Twenty
minutes later I suddenly realized that the train was going to leave in five
minutes and that the porter had still not brought my cases. I was just setting
off to look for him when he came. I asked him rather sharply what he had
been doing.
“It was her,” he said shortly. “They’d found forty watches and that is
only the start.”
But I have often wondered whether, when Miss Bradley stood alone
and sad on the station at Calais she had already chosen me as the person to
save her.
Answer the following questions:
1. In traveling from Florence it is usual to go to Pisa and there to
change on to Rome Express, isn’t it?
2. For whom is the carriage which runs all the way from Florence
reserved?
3. Whom did he see on the carriage?
4. Why did he dislike her?
5. Did he talk to her?
6. Did he help her with finding a porter?
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7. What would have happened if he did not tell the examiner which
cases were his?
8. Why did Miss Bradley choose him to help her?
SILVER BLAZE
(After Conan Doyle)
In Devon, a valuable racehorse, Silver Blaze, had disappeared; its
trainer, John Straker, was found dead.
Silver Blaze was ready to run in an important race in a few day’s time.
On the night he disappeared, a stable-boy was guarding him. The boy had a
dog with him, and two other boys were sleeping above the stable.
A girl who was taking the boy his supper saw a stranger near the
stables. She ran back to the house to get help, and the stranger ran away.
The stable-boy said that the stranger had asked him, “Will Silver Blaze
really win the race?” The boy said he hadn’t opened the stable door.
At midnight, John Straker, the horse’s trainer, told his wife he was
still worried about the horse. He went out, towards the stables, taking a
sharp doctor’s knife with him.
The next morning, the stable door was opened. The horse had gone, and the
stable-boy was unconscious. Opium was found in his food. Usually, you can taste
opium, but he had strong meat for supper, and that had hidden the taste.
John Straker was found out on Dartmoor. He was dead, his head
crushed. His coat was hanging over a bush. Near him was his knife, and a
scarf which was recognized as the stranger’s.
The police found and arrested the stranger, Mr. Simpson. They said he
had drugged the boy, stolen the horse and killed Straker. Simpson denied it
all, and they still didn’t know where the horse was.
Colonel Ross, the horse’s owner, then sent a telegram to Sherlock
Holmes, asking him to find the horse. Holmes and his friend, Dr. Watson,
were at their flat in Baker Street, in London. They had read the whole story
in the newspapers. Holmes took no notice of the telegram, saying that Silver
Blaze was somewhere on Dartmoor, and would soon be found.
Two days later, Holmes understood he was mistaken, and he and Dr.
Watson took a train to Tavistock, in Devon. They went to the place on Dartmoor
where Straker’s body was found. There, Holmes found a match. Then they
searched the place, and finally found the tracks of Silver Blaze. Some of the prints
were alone, pointing towards Colonel Ross’s stables; others had the footprints of a
man with them, and pointed towards another stable.
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Holmes and Watson talked to the owner there, and he finally admitted
that he had stolen Silver Blaze, taken him home and hidden him. He wanted
his own horse win the race. He said he knew nothing about the murder.
Now, said Dr. Watson, the mystery was over. The police had found
the murderer, and they found the horse. Sherlock Holmes didn’t agree.
When they went back to Colonel Ross’s stables, Holmes asked, “Was there
anything wrong with any animals on the farm?" A farm-worker said that
three of the sheep had gone lame.
If Simpson, the stranger, had drugged the stable-boy, he was very
lucky. He couldn’t know that there was meat for supper. And how did he
put the drug in the food?
The two boys sleeping hadn’t woken up. So the dog hadn’t barked. So
the dog knew the thief.
Who carries a doctor’s knife for self-defense? A knife like that is for
something different – like making a horse lame.
Someone who isn’t a doctor would have to practiсe an operation of a
horse’s leg – perhaps he would practice on some sheep.
A man who hangs his coat on a bush, and strikes a match, doesn’t run after
thieves. He’s going to do something difficult; like operating on a horse.
The scarf? Straker must have found it near the stables, and decided to tie the
horse’s legs with it. Silver Blaze became frightened, kicked back, and killed
Straker.
Why would Straker want to lame a horse which he trained? Because
he had bet money on another horse.
Elementary, my dear Watson!
Answer the following questions:
1. What happened in Devon?
2. Was Silver Blaze ready to run in an important race in a few day’s time?
3 . Who was guarding the horse?
4. Whom did the girl see?
5. What did the stranger ask the boy about?
6. Where did John Straker go at about midnight?
7 . What did they see when the stable was opened the next morning?
8 . Was John Straker dead or alive?
9. Whom did the police arrest?
10. What did the police say?
11. Did Simpson deny it all?
12. Whom did Colonel Ross send a telegram?
13. Where did Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson go?
14. What did Sherlock Holmes find there?
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15. What was the doctor’s knife meant for?
16. Who killed Straker?
17. Why did Straker want to lame the horse?
CRABBE’S PRACTICE
(After A. Conan Doyle)
Tom Crabbe had just finished medical college. A brilliant career
seemed to be ahead of him, as he had a deep knowledge of medicine.
Crabbe went down with his young degree and a still younger wife to
Brisport to start practice there.
One day to my surprise I received a telegramme from Mrs. Crabbe
requesting me to come to Brisport urgently. When I arrived there I learned
about their difficulties: the expenses were heavy, and patients were few.
Tom wanted my advice. He said: “If I could make myself known it would
be all right, but no one seems to need my help; they all go to other doctors
they know. I wouldn’t mind if these other doctors were good men, but they
are not. They are at least half a century behind the day.”
“You should get your name known,” I advised.
“That’s exactly what I want, if I could only get my name into the
Brisport Chronicle it would help me a lot.”
We had been talking over the matter for a while when an idea came to
Tom. We drew up a plan of our actions which we revised , modified and at
last accepted. Our discussion resulted last that night in my moving into the
Brisport Hotel.
Next day the weather was fine. The streets of Brisport were crowded
with people, I went straight to the river and on my way there saw Tom
Crabbe standing on the bridge. There was a boat-house near the river.
“Could I have a boat for an hour?” I asked a man there.
Of course,” he said. “Would you want me to take you down the river?”
“Yes, you’d better,” I replied. At the end of an hour I said I wanted a
bit of exercise – “Let us change places,” I said and stood up.
“Take care, sir,” cried the man, “Look out.” But I had already fallen
over into the water.
Some time later I was “saved” by the boat-man.
“He is dead, poor fellow,” said someone.
“Send for a doctor.”
“Feel his pulse.”
“Stop,” said the authoritative voice. “Can I be of any assistance? I am
a medical man. What has happened?”
“A man drowned,” cried several voices.
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“Stand back, make room for the doctor.”
“My name is doctor Crabbe. Take him to the hotel.”
We got to the hotel and I was undressed and put on the best bed. It
seemed that news of the accident had traveled fast as there was a crowd in
the street. Tom admitted only a few townspeople into the room, but issued
bulletins out of the window every five minutes to the crowd below.
“Quite dead,” I heard him shout. “No pulse – we still do our best; we
are obliged to try everything.”
The people stood around while Tom worked on me. “No sign of life,”
he shouted out of the window and then fell on me with greater energy. “We
will try now another method,” he said and with that he seemed to try to
break every bone in my body.
“It is hopeless,” he said at last , stopping and covering my head with
the bedclothes. “He is dead. Here is my card,” he continued to an inspector
of police who had arrived. “Doctor Crabbe of George Street.” And he
walked towards the door.
Then a thought seemed to come to him, and he turned back.
“There is yet a possible hope,” he said. “We have not tried the effects
of electricity. Is there a chemist’s near?”
“Yes, doctor, there is one just around the corner.”
“Then run, get his strongest battery, quick!”
And away went half the crowd. They came back very red and hot, and
brought a box which contained the instrument in question.
“Now, gentlemen,” said Tom. “I believe I may say that I am the first
practitioner in Great Britain who has applied electricity to this use. I have
seen it produce surprising effects; it may again in this case.”
It certainly did. Crabbe assured me later that it was an accident , but
in any case he sent electricity through my system. I gave a cry and landed in
the middle of the room. “You idiot,” I shouted. “Wasn’t it enough to try to
break all my bones?”
Never was there such confusion. There appeared the manager of the
hotel, the correspondent of the British Chronicle, not to mention half the
citizens of the town.
“Our friend has come back to us,” Tom shouted from the window.
“Send for a taxi. He is out of all danger now. My address is 81 George
Street, Doctor Crabbe , Good day, kind friends.” And with that he went off.
I could not stay in Brisport long enough to see the effects of our plan.
But soon I learned how it worked from a copy of the Brisport Chronicle. A
column and a half was devoted to Dr. Crabbe and the wonderful effects of
electricity. It later got into some London papers, and was seriously
commented on in a medical journal.
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As to the material success of our little experiment I can see it from the
following letter from Tom Crabbe:
“… You want to know how all goes in Brisport, I suppose. The day
after our little joke I got a broken leg, a cut head and bronchitis. Next day
another three cases came over to see me. I’ve never had a day since without
half a dozen new patient. Let me know when you are going to set up, and
I’ll manage to run down , old man, and give you a start in business, if I have
to stand on my head in the water. Good-bye, Love from my wife.
Answer the following questions:
1. What had Tom Crabbe finished?
2. What seemed to be ahead of him?
3. Where did Tom begin his practice?
4. What did the author receive one day?
5. What kind of difficulties did Tom have?
6. What did the author advise?
7. Did they draw up a plan?
8. Where did the author go next day?
9. What happened to the author when he wanted to row the boat?
10.Who was sent for?
11.Did Doctor Crabbe come to help him?
12.Did the people stand around?
13.What methods had Dr. Crabbe used?
14.Did the author come to himself at last?
15.Did Dr. Crabbe become famous?
16.Did he succeed in his work?
OLD COUNTRY ADVICE TO THE AMERICAN TRAVELLER
(By W.Saroyan)
One day my uncle Melik traveled from Fresno to New York. Before
he got aboard the train his uncle Garro paid him a visit and told him about
the dangers of travel.
“When you get on the train,” the old man said, “choose your seat
carefully, sit down, and do not look about.”
“Yes, sir,” my uncle said.
“Several moments after the train begins to move,” the old man said,
“two men wearing uniforms will come down the aisle and ask you your
ticket. Ignore them. They will be impostors.”
“How shall I know?” my uncle said.
“You will know,” the old man said. “You are no longer a child.”
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“Yes, sir,” my uncle said.
“Before you have traveled twenty miles, an amiable young man will
come to you and offer you a cigarette. Tell him you don’t smoke. The
cigarette will be doped.”
“Yes, sir,” my uncle said.
“On your way to the diner a very beautiful young woman will run
into you on purpose and almost embrace you,” the old man said. She will be
extremely apologetic and attractive, and your natural wish will be to
become friends with her. Don’t do this, go into the diner and eat. The
woman will be an adventuress.”
“A what?” my uncle said.
“A whore,” the old man shouted. “Go in and eat. Order the best food,
and if the diner is crowded, and the beautiful young woman sits at your
table, do not look into her eyes. If she speaks, pretend to be deaf.”
“Yes, sir,” my uncle said.
“Pretend to be deaf,” the old man said. “That is the only way out of it.”
“Out of what?” my uncle said.
“Out of the whole trouble,” the old man said. “I have traveled. I know
what I’m talking about.”
“Yes, sir,” my uncle said.
“Let’s say no more about it,” the old man said.
“Yes, sir,” my uncle said.
“On your way back to your seat from the diner,” the old man said,
“you will pass through the smoker. There you will find a game of cards in
progress. The players will be three middle-aged men with expensivelooking rings on their fingers. They will nod at you pleasantly and one of
them will invite you to join the game. Tell them, “I don’t speak English.”
“Yes, sir,” my uncle said.
“That is all,” the old man said.
“Thank you very much,” my uncle said.
“One thing more,” the old man said. “When you go to bed at night,
take your money out of your pocket and put it in your shoe. Put your shoe
under the pillow, keep your head on the pillow all night, and don’t sleep.”
“Yes, sir,” my uncle said.
“That is all,” the old man said.
The old man went away and the next day my uncle Melik got aboard
the train and went to New York. The two men in uniforms were not
impostors, the young man with the doped cigarettes did not appear, the
beautiful woman did not sit at his table and there was no card game in
progress in the smoker. My uncle put his money in the shoe and put his shoe
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under the pillow and put his head on the pillow and didn’t sleep all night the
first night, but the second night he abandoned the whole ritual.
The second day he himself offered another man a cigarette which the
other man accepted. In the diner my uncle went to sit at a table with a young
lady. He started a poker game in the smoker, and long before the train got to
New York my uncle knew everybody aboard the train and everybody knew
him. While the train was travelling through Ohio, my uncle and the young
man who had accepted the cigarette and two young ladies sang American
songs together.
The journey was a pleasant one.
When my uncle Melik came back from New York, his old uncle Garro
visited him again.
“I see you are looking all right,” he said. “Did you follow my instructions?”
“Yes, sir,” my uncle said.
“I’m pleased,” he said, “that someone has profited by my experience.”
Answer the following questions:
1. Where did uncle Melik travel to?
2. About what dangers did Melik’s uncle tell before his travel?
3. Did uncle Melik follow his uncle’s advice?
4. Did anything dangerous happen to uncle Melik?
5. What did he tell his uncle after he returned home?
6. What did his uncle say?
AT THE HOTEL
(After A.Hailey ) (“Hotel”)
The St. Gregory Hotel, New Orleans, was busy. There were many
people at the reception-desk. A middle-aged Negro with a suit-case in his
hand came up to the receptionist and said: “Good morning. I’m doctor
Nicolas. You have a reservation for me.”
“Yes, sir. Will you check in, please,” the receptionist said before he
looked up. But when he did, he said , “The hotel is full.”
The Negro smiled and said, “The hotel sent a letter which says that
you have a reservation for me.”
“I’m sorry but we haven’t any accommodation at the moment. We are
having a conference here.”
“I know. It’s a conference of doctors. I’m one of them.”
“I’m very sorry, but I can’t help you.”
“Can I speak to the manager in this case?” the Negro asked. A few
minutes later the manager came up to the reception- desk.
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“Mr. Barley, I’ve told this gentleman that the hotel is full,” the
receptionist said.
“But I’ve said I have a reservation, “ Dr. Nicolas said.
“We’ll see what we can do.”
“Just a moment. You tell me the hotel is full, but your people are checking
visitors in. Do they have some special kind of reservation, I wonder?”
“Jim Nicolas!” A small middle-aged man came up to the Negro.
“Oh, Dr. Ingram! How good to see you.”
“How are you, Jim, my boy? No, don’t answer! I can see you are fine.
I’ve heard much about you.”
“Thank you,” Dr. Nicolas said.
“You are going to make a report, I know. And I’ll have the pleasure to
introduce you to the conference. You know they made me President this year/
Let’s meet in the hall in the evening and have a talk. Give me your room number.”
“I’m sorry, Dr. Ingram, but they say I can’t get a room at the St.
Gregory. Probably it’s my colour.”
For some minutes Dr. Ingram couldn’t speak. Then he said: “I
promise you, Jim, there will be a room, or we’ll all leave this hotel.”
Answer the following questions:
1. Who came to the receptionist of the St. Gregory Hotel?
2. What was Mr. Nickolas told by the receptionist?
3. Who met Mr. Nickolas?
4. What did he tell Mr. Nickolas?
5. Do you think Mr. Nickolas will get a room in the hotel?
SAD STORY
(After George Sheffield)
“You are the doctor, I suppose,” said Augustus Pokewhistle, smiling
from his bed at the man who had arrived while he slept. “It is kind of you to
come, but I fear you cannot help me. However I will tell you, what is wrong
with me. I am an artist. I paint pictures…”
“But…”
“You are going to tell me that you are not interested in the story of my
life,” Augustus laughed bitterly. But I suppose you have been sent here by
some interfering so-called friend of mine to save me from the Silent Grave,
and I must therefore explain my illness. And you cannot understand my
illness unless I tell you the story of my life…”
“But…”
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“ I was not an ordinary boy. At the age of seven I won a prize for a drawing
of an animal. After that my parents gave me the opportunity of studying under
Great Painters. At the age of twenty-one I started business as a painter of people,
and painted eleven pictures of my face. Nobody seemed to want them…”
“But…”
“May I mention that there is a certain sameness in your remarks? Let
me finish, and then you can say ‘but’ as often as you like. I turned from
painting people to painting the country. But could I sell the pictures of the
view from the front window or from the back window? I could not. I
determined to draw funny pictures for the newspapers…”
“But…”
“I know what you are going to say – if I had the soul of a true artist, I
would have died rather than do such a thing. So I made thirty or forty funny
drawings and sent them to the papers. I soon found that selling one’s soul
for money. I just got my drawings back…”
“But…”
“Then I sank lower and lower. I tried drawing for advertisements. I
sent them by the hundred, and all I received was a sample of bottle, and a
sample of wool.”
“But…”
“So I gave up the struggle. My heart was broken, and I determined to
take to my bed, never to rise again. You cannot help me, doctor. I shall
never rise from this bed…”
“And I feel it in my bones that you will,” said the stranger, carefully
placing Augustus Pokewhistle on the carpet, “because I’ve come to take it
away. I’m from the furniture shop, and the bed isn’t paid for.”
Answer the following questions:
1. Whom did Augustus see in his room when he woke up?
2. What did he think of the stranger?
3. Why did Augustus want to tell the stranger the story of his life?
4. Did the stranger try to interrupt him?
5. What did Augustus say to that?
6. What business did Augustus try?
7. Was he a success?
8. What is the end of the story?
9. Why is it a sad story?
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THE MOONLIGHT SONATA
It happened at Bonn. One moonlight winter’s evening I called upon
Beethoven; for I wished him to take a walk and afterward to sup with me. In
passing through some dark, narrow street he paused suddenly. “Hush!” he
said, “what sound is that? It is from my sonata in F,” he said eagerly. “Hark!
How well it is played!”
The player went on: but in the midst of the finale there was a sudden
break, then the voice of sobbing. “Oh, what would I not give to go to the
concert at Cologne!”
“Ah! My sister,” said her companion, “why create regrets when there
is no remedy? We can scarcely pay our rent.”
“You are right; and yet I wish for once in my life to hear some really
good music.”
Beethoven looked at me and said, “I will play for her.” And before I
could prevent him, his hand was upon the door.
A pale young man was sitting by the table, and near him sat a young girl.
“Pardon me,” said Beethoven, “but I heard music, and I was tempted
to enter, I am a musician.”
“Thank you,” said the young man, “but our harpsichord is so
wretched, and we have no music.”
“No music!” echoed my friend, “how, then, does the Fräulein –“
He paused, and coloured up, for the girl looked full at him, and he saw
she was blind.
“And where do you hear the music since you frequent no concerts?”
“I used to hear a lady practicing near us. Soon I learned to play her
music from memory.”
Beethoven said no more but seated himself before the harpsichord and
began to play. Never during all the years that I knew him, did I hear him
play as he then played to that blind girl and her brother.
The brother and sister were silent with wonder and rapture.
At length the young man rose and said in a low tone, “Wonderful
man! Who and what are you?”
The composer smiled and said, “Listen!” and he played the opening
bars of the Sonata in F.
A cry of delight and recognition burst from both, and exclaiming,
“Then you are Beethoven!” they covered his hands with tears and kisses.
“Play to us once more – only once more – please.”
The moon shone brightly in through the window. “I will improvise a
sonata to moonlight! said he, looking up thoughtfully to the sky and stars.
Then his hands dropped to the keys, and he began playing a sad and
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infinitely lovely movement, which crept gently over the instrument like the
calm flow of moonlight over the dark and silent earth.
This was followed by a wild passage in triple time – a sort of
grotesque interlude. Then came a swift agitato finale – a breathless,
hurrying movement descriptive of flight and uncertainty, and vague
impulsive terror, which carried us away on its rustling wings, and left us all
in emotion and wonder.
“Farewell to you!” said Beethoven. “You will come again?” asked
they, in one breath. “Yes, yes,” he said hurriedly, “and give the Fräulein
some lessons! Farewell! I will soon come again!”
“Let us make haste back,” said Beethoven, “that I may write out that
sonata while I can remember it.”
And this was the origin of that Moonlight Sonata with which we are
fondly acquainted.
Answer the following questions:
1. Where did it happen?
2. What did Beethoven and his friend hear while they were having a walk?
3. Did they enter the house?
4. What did they learn about the girl?
5. Did Beethoven play to the girl and her brother?
6. What did Beethoven play to them?
7. Were they delighted to hear his music?
8. What music did Beethoven improvise?
9. Did Beethoven promise to come back?
LETTERS IN THE MAIL
(By Erskine Caldwell) (abridged)
As a general rule, almost everybody likes to receive mail and probably
nobody in the whole town of Stillwater liked to get letters in the mail more
than Ray Buffin. However, the fact was that Ray received fewer letters in
the box at the post office than anybody else.
Two of the younger men in town, Guy Hodge and Ralph Barnhill,
decided that they would send him a letter signed with a fictitious name.
Their jokes were always good-natured.
They would tell everybody in the post-office to watch Ray when he
received a letter in his box, and then somebody would ask him in a loud
voice if he had received a love letter from a girl. After that somebody would
snatch a letter out of his hand and read it aloud for everybody to hear.
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After buying a box of pink stationary at the drugstore, Guy and Ralph
went around the corner to the telephone exchange, where Grace Brooks was
the night switchboard operator.
Gracie was a plump, bright haired, elderly girl who had worked for the
telephone company.
She had remained single all those years.
At first, after Guy and Ralph had told her what they were planning to do and
had asked her to write the letter to Ray, because they wanted it to be in feminine
handwriting, Gracie said that she would have nothing to do with the scheme.
“Come on, Gracie,” Ralph pleaded. “Be a good sport and write the
letter for us.”
It seemed like a lifetime since Gracie had received a letter from Ray
Buffin saying he admired her more than any other girl in the world and
wanted to marry her.
She had just graduated from high school then and had started to work
for the telephone company, and, since she was girlishly carefree and had no
thoughts about marrying any man at such a young age, she ignored the
letter. During all those years they had seen each other occasionally, but
rarely more than a polite greeting had passed between them, and each time
she saw Ray looked sadder and more lonely.
“I think I know what to say,” she told them. “Leave the box stationary, and
I’ll write the letter tonight and mail it early tomorrow morning.”
Late that night she wrote the letter to Ray Buffin , and the next
morning when she left the exchange, she mailed it in the letter slot at the
post office.
Guy and Ralph were waiting in the post office the afternoon at four
o’clock when Ray came in and stood in front of his box.
Ray saw a letter in his box. His eyes blinking unbelievingly, he stared
at it through the little glass window for a long time. After that, with shaking
hand, he opened the box and took out the pink envelope. Turning it over in
his hands, he went to the corner of the room to read it.
His hands shaking more than ever, he ripped open the pink envelope.
As he began to read, the sadness of his long thin face vanished and he began
to smile. After hurriedly reading the letter the first time, he began reading it
a second time, his lips slowly and carefully forming the sounds of the
words. When he finished, his eyes were blinking mistily and he quickly
drew the palm of his hand over his face. Then, suddenly stuffing the letter
into his pocket, he dashed out of the post office before anybody had a
chance to say anything to him.
As soon as they realized what had happened, Guy and Ralph ran after
him, calling him to come back to the post office. Instead Ray hurried around
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the corner to the telephone exchange. Ordinarily, Gracie Brooks did not
come to work until six o’clock in the evening, but this time she had been
there since four o’clock. When Guy and Ralph ran inside, Gracie was seated
at the switchboard and Ray Buffin was standing close beside her with the
widest and happiest smile they had ever seen on his face.
Evidently neither of them had yet said a word to the other, and apparently
they were too excited to realize, or to care, that Guy and Ralph were in the office
watching them. The little red and green lights on the switchboard began flashing
urgently as phone calls remained unanswered and unconnected.
Answer the following questions:
1. Who likes to receive letters as a general rule?
2. What did Guy and Ralph want to do?
3. Whom did they want to ask to write a letter and why?
4. Did she agree to write a letter and why?
5. Was Ray glad to receive her letter?
6. What did he do after having received a letter?
7. Could Ralph and Guy play a joke on Ray?
A CANARY FOR ONE
(After E. Hemingway ) (abridged)
The train passed quickly a long, red-stone house with a garden and
four thick palm trees with tables under them in the shade.
“I bought him in Palermo,” the American lady said. The man wanted
to be paid in dollars and I gave him a dollar and a half. He really sings very
beautifully.”
The train stayed twenty-five minutes at Marseilles and the American
lady bought a copy of the Daily Mail.
The train left the station in Marseilles. After it was dark the train was
in Avignon.
Inside the compartment the porter had pulled down the three beds
from inside the wall and prepared them for sleeping. In the night the
American lady lay without sleeping because the train went very fast and she
was afraid of the speed in the night.
In the morning the train was near Paris, and after the American lady had
come out of the wash-room, looking very wholesome in spite of having not slept,
and hung the cage in the sun, she went to a restaurant car for breakfast.
“He loves the sun,” the American lady said. “He’ll sing now in a little
while.”
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“I’m taking him home to my little girl. There – he’s singing now.”
The canary chirped and the feathers on his throat stood out, then he
pecked into his feathers again. For several minutes I had not listened to the
American lady, who was talking to my wife.
“Is your husband American too?” asked the lady.
“Yes,” said my wife. We’re both Americans.”
“I’m so glad you’re Americans. American men make the best husbands,”
the American lady was saying. “That was why we left the Continent, you know.
My daughter fell in love with a man in Vevey.” She stopped. They were simply
madly in love.” She stopped again. “I took her away, of course.”
“Did she get over it?” asked my wife.
“I don’t think so,” said the American lady. “She wouldn’t eat anything
and she wouldn’t sleep at all. I’ve tried so very hard, but she doesn’t seem
to take an interest in anything. I couldn’t have her marrying a foreigner.”
She paused. “Someone, a very good friend, told me once, ‘No foreigner can
make an American girl a good husband.’”
“No,” said my wife, “I suppose not.”
The train was coming into Paris.
“Americans make the best husbands,” the American lady said to my
wife. “American men are the only men in the world to marry.”
“How long ago did you leave Vevey?” asked my wife.
“Two years ago this fall. It’s her, you know, that I’m taking the
canary to.”
“Was the man your daughter was in love with a Swiss?”
“Yes,” said the American lady. “He was from a very good family in
Vevey. He was going to be an engineer. They met there in Vevey. They
used to go on long walks together.”
The train stopped and porters came up to the windows.
The porter brought a truck and piled on the luggage, and my wife said
good-bye to the American lady.
We were returning to Paris to set up separate residences.
Answer the following questions:
1. Where was the train going?
2. Who was in the compartment?
3. Why didn’t the lady sleep in the train?
4. Why did the lady buy the canary?
5. What did the lady tell the author’s wife about her daughter?
6. Why were the author and his wife going to Paris?
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ON HONEYMOON
A young couple got married and went for their honeymoon on a trip
through the southern states of America. They arrived at a hotel in a beautiful place
among the mountains, where there were many guests, and decided to stay there
for a few days. A servant took their luggage. The young husband told him to be
very careful to remove all the rice from the luggage and from their clothes, so that
no one in the hotel should know that they were newly married. He gave the
servant a large tip, and told him to be very careful that nobody discovered that
they were newly married.
A day or two later the young bride saw that all the women in the hotel
were looking at her and talking about her. She told her husband, who was
very angry that the servant had not kept his word. He called the servant to
his room.
“What does this mean, Sam?” he asked. “I told you to be careful that
nobody discovered that my wife and I were newly married. We have told no
one. You are the only person in the hotel that knows. Now everyone in the
hotel is looking at us, and all those women are talking about us.”
“I don’t understand one word of it,” said the servant, “I never told
them you were newly married. In fact, to be quite sure I told them just the
opposite. I told them that you and the young lady were not married at all.”
Answer the following questions:
1. Where did a young couple go?
2. Where did they arrive?
3. What did the young husband tell the servant?
4. What did the bride see a day or two later?
5. What did she tell her husband?
6. Was her husband angry with the servant?
7. What did the husband tell the servant?
8. What did the servant say?
YEHUDI MENUHIN AND THE RICH MAN
The great violinist, Yehudi Menuhin, has played in concert-halls in
most of the large cities of Europe, and is famous in both the United States
and in South America.
He is also a very good amateur conjurer. One evening he had shown a
number of his tricks at a private party in New York. One of the guests came
up to him afterwards.
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“I am a great admirer of your talent, Mr. Menuhin, it is amazing –
absolutely amazing,” he said.
Menuhin, who is used to hearing that sort of thing, smiled and thanked
the man.
“We are going to have a party at home on Wednesday,” continued the
man, “and my wife and I would be very pleased if you would come and
entertain our guests.”
Menuhin, who is a very busy man, was not very pleased to receive
another invitation, but the man said that he would be very disappointed if
Menuhin could not come, and he also said that he knew that Menuhin’s time
was very valuable, and that he would, of course, be willing to pay any sum
that Menuhin asked for. After some discussion Menuhin agreed to be
present at the party and to entertain the guests.
The following Wednesday a large car was sent to Menuhin’s hotel to fetch
him. He was driven out to an enormous villa not far from New York. The host
met him in the hall, and saw that Menuhin had his violin under his arm.
“Good heavens!” he exclaimed, looking at the violin, “do you mean
to say you also play the violin?”
Answer the following questions:
1. Where has the great violinist played?
2. Is he also a very good amateur conjurer?
2. Who came up to him afterwards?
3. What did he say to Mr. Menuhin?
4. Was Menuhin used to hear such words?
5. Did the man invite Menuhin to the party he was going to give?
6. Did the man promise to give Menuhin any sum he wanted?
7. Did Menuhin agree to go to the party?
8. What did Menuhin have under his arm?
9. What did the host say?
THE HIGHLANDER’S WATCH
A Highlander came to the Edinburgh market with a herd of cattle. He
was fortunate enough to sell the cattle at a high price.
He was pleased with his good luck, and decided that before going home he
would make himself a present of a watch, a thing he had never had before.
As he went along the streets, he looked at the watches for sale at the
watchmakers’, till he saw one that he liked. He entered the shop where it
was, and bought it for a few pounds.
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He was very pleased with his watch, and showed it to the other
farmers whom he had met at the inn in the evening.
When he went to bed, he put the watch under his pillow, but as he did
not wind it up, it had, of course, stopped in the morning. He was greatly
disappointed when he found the watch was dumb. He shook it to make it
speak, as he called it, but it was all in vain.
Now he went to the watchmakers who had sold him the watch, told
him he was tired of his watch, and asked him to take it back at a low price.
The watchmaker wondered at the strange offer made by the
Highlander, examined the watch, and found that it was as good as when he
sold it. It only needed to be wound up. The watchmaker hesitated, but in the
end he took the watch and gave the man his money.
The Highlander picked up his money, and put it in his pocket. At the door
he stopped and said, “I wish you good luck. The watch died last night.”
Answer the following questions:
1. Where did a Highlander come?
2. What did he decide to do after he had sold the cattle?
3. What did he buy at the shop?
4. Was he pleased with his watch?
5. Did he wind up his watch before going to bed?
6. Was he disappointed when he saw that his watch was dumb?
7. Did he try to make his watch work?
8. Where did he go and what did he say to the watchmaker?
9. Did the watchmaker take the watch back?
10.What did the Highlander say to the watchmaker before going out?
11.What do you think about the watchmaker?
12.What do you think about the Highlander?
SALMON FISHING IN SCOTLAND
In Scotland there are many rivers that are famous for salmon. Salmon
fishing is a very fine sport, and, besides the Scots themselves, many
Englishmen go to Scotland to enjoy the salmon fishing.
In many places the rivers are private property. They run through land which
belongs to one of the great houses, and one is not allowed to fish without a permit.
There are keepers who see that people do not fish without a permit.
A young man, who had a permit to fish, went down to the river one
morning, and as he moved up the river, he saw a very pretty girl, who was
also fishing the river. He wished her “Good morning”, and they talked about
the fishing. She told him that she did not come very often because she had
not got a permit.
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A little later the girl caught a large salmon, which she put into her
basket. Another hour passed, and suddenly a keeper appeared. The young
man picked up his rod and ran away as fast as he could, with the keeper at
his heels. It was not long before he was caught.
“You come along with me,” said the keeper, “you know you are not
allowed to fish this river without a permit.”
“But I have a permit,” said the young man, and took out his permit
and showed it to the keeper.
“Then why did you run away?” asked the keeper.
“Well,” said the young man, “she was such a pretty girl, and she
hadn’t got a permit. I had to give her time to get away.”
Answer the following questions:
1. What are many rivers in Scotland famous for?
2. Who comes to fish here?
3. Where people are not allowed to fish?
4. Whom did a young man see fishing?
5. What did he learn after having talked with her?
6. Did she manage to catch a large salmon?
7. Who appeared suddenly?
8. What did the young man do?
9. Did the keeper catch him?
10.What did the young man tell the keeper?
11.Do you think the young girl could escape?
12.What do you think about the young man?
THE CLERGYMAN AND THE SLEEPY CHURCH-GOER
A clergyman in a seaside town was well known for his very long and not
always very interesting sermons. There were many visitors to the town every
summer, and many of the visitors went to the beautiful old church on Sundays.
The clergyman noticed an old gentleman sitting with a boy.
Unfortunately the old gentleman went to sleep during the sermon. Next
Sunday the old gentleman and the boy were there again, and again the old
gentleman slept during the sermon.
The clergyman spoke to the boy after the service was over. The boy
told him that the old gentleman was his grandfather. He explained that they
were staying in the town for most of the summer.
“Well!” said the clergyman, “I am very pleased to see you at church,
but it doesn’t look very good that your grandfather sleeps during the
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sermon. I will give you sixpence each week if you will keep him awake
during the sermon.”
The boy agreed, and for the next two Sundays the old gentleman stayed
awake and listened to the sermon, and the clergyman gave the boy his sixpence.
The third week, however, the old gentleman was again fast asleep.
The clergyman sent for the boy.
“I am very disappointed,” he said. “Didn’t you see that your
grandfather was fast asleep during my sermon today? I promised to give
you sixpence if you could keep him awake?”
“Yes,” said the boy, “but grandfather now gives me a shilling to let
him go to sleep.”
Answer the following questions:
1. For what was a clergyman in a seaside town known?
2. What did the clergyman notice one day?
3. What was the old gentleman doing during the sermon?
4. To whom did the clergyman speak?
5. What did the clergyman tell the boy?
6. Was the old gentleman awake at the following two sermons?
7. What happened on the third week?
8. What did the clergyman say to the boy?
9. What did the boy answer?
CALVIN COOLIDGE AND HIS GUESTS
Calvin Coolidge, who was elected president of the United States in
1924, wished, after his election, to thank as many as possible of the people
who had helped him to win the election.
One evening he invited some of these political friends, with their
wives, to dinner at the White House. Many of the guests, who were not used
to such fine company, were rather nervous about their table manners, but
decided to watch the president and do exactly the same as he did.
Everything went well during dinner. When the president used a spoon,
the guests did the same. When he used a knife and fork, the guests did the
same. When he drank a glass of wine, all the guests drank, too.
After dinner, the guests followed the president into another room,
where coffee was served. Beside the president’s chair his favourite cat sat
and waited for him. Coffee was poured out. Sugar and cream were on the
tables. All eyes were on Mr. Coolidge. He took a piece of sugar with the
silver-tongs, and all the guests took sugar with the sugar-tongs. He then
poured cream into his coffee with his left hand, and all the guests did the
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same. He stirred his coffee, and then poured some of it into the saucer. The
guests who were still watching the president very carefully, poured some of
their coffee into their saucers. The president then carefully put the saucer of
coffee down on the floor for his cat to drink.
Answer the following questions:
1. Who was elected president of the United States?
2. What did he decide to do?
3. What did the guests do?
4. Where did the guests go after dinner?
5. What did the president do?
6. What did the guests do?
7. Do you know table manners?
PETER FREUCHEN AND THE WOLVES
Peter Freuchen spent many years in Greenland and had many exciting
adventures. He gave many lectures and talks about his life in the far north,
and, especially when he was speaking to children, he liked to make his
stories even more interesting and exciting than they had been.
One day he gave a lecture to some school children. He told them that
one day he and a party of friends had driven with sledges drawn by dogs
through a part of the country where there were many wolves. The wolves
were terribly hungry. He told the children that a wolf will not attack a man
when it is alone, but a large pack of wolves is very dangerous.
Suddenly, many miles from the camp to which they were going, they
saw that many wolves, at least a hundred, were following them. He
explained that he had lain down on the last sledge with his rifle, and when
the wolves came near, he shot one of them. The other wolves, which were
very hungry, at once fell upon the dead wolf and ate it. Soon, however, they
were close behind the party again, and again Peter Freuchen shot a wolf,
which the other wolves ate. This was repeated again and again. At last there
was only one wolf left.
A little girl, sitting in the first row, put up her hand.
“Well, my dear,” asked Freuchen, “do you want to ask something?”
“Please, Mr. Freuchen,” the little girl asked, “does that mean that the
one wolf that was left had eaten all the other wolves?”
“Yes,” said Peter Freuchen, very seriously, “but I can assure you the
poor animal was terribly out of breath.”
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Answer the following questions:
1. Where did Peter Freuchen spend many years?
2. He gave many lectures and talks about his life, didn’t he?
3. Whom did he lecture one day?
4. What did he tell them about?
5. Who attacked them?
6. What did he do?
7. What question did a little girl ask?
8. What did he answer?
THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON AND THE FRENCH
MARSHALS
The famous British general Wellington had met the most of
Napoleon’s marshals in various battles and had beaten nearly all of them.
He fought against the French for many years, mostly in Spain and Portugal,
and never lost an important battle.
Yet Napoleon always said that he was a poor general, and was very
angry because his marshals lost battles to him. The marshals agreed that
Wellington was not a very good general. They said he had always been
lucky. Each of them was able to give some very good reason why
Wellington had beaten them.
Finally Wellington met Napoleon himself at Waterloo, and again
Wellington won the battle. As a prisoner on St. Helena Napoleon would not
admit that his famous enemy was a great general.
When the war was over, the Duke of Wellington became Prime
Minister of England, and some years later he paid a visit, as Prime Minister,
to the court of the French king. Several of Napoleon’s marshals were
present at court, and when the duke entered the room where the king was
waiting to receive him, they turned their backs on him.
The king, who was very eager to be friends with England, was very
angry and apologized to the duke for the behaviour of the French marshals.
Wellington looked at the marshals and smiled.
“Your Majesty should think no more about it,” he said. “I have seen
the backs of most of these gentlemen several times on the various battlefields of Europe.”
Answer the following questions:
1. Whom had the famous British general Wellington beaten in
various battles?
2. Where did he fight against the French?
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3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
What did Napoleon say about the general Wellington?
Did Napoleon loose the battle?
What did the Duke of Wellington become when the war was over?
What did he visit?
How did the French marshals behave?
What did the French king say?
What did the Duke of Wellington answer?
GENERAL DIRECTOR OF THE DANISH STATE RAILWAYS
A gentleman was sitting in a compartment in a train. On the window
was a large notice “NO SMOKING”.
The train stopped at a station, and a man entered the compartment
with a large and strong cigar in his mouth. Soon the compartment was filled
with smoke.
The gentleman who had been first in the compartment said, very
politely, “Excuse me, sir, but I think you have not noticed that this is a nonsmoking compartment.”
The other man said nothing, but continued smoking.
The first gentleman then took out his pocket-book and gave the man a
visiting-card, on which was his name, and underneath “General Director of
the Danish State Railways”.
The man looked at it, put it in his pocket, said nothing, and went on
smiling.
The director, who was a very quiet man, did not wish to quarrel, so he
decided to say no more about it, hoping that the man would soon finish his cigar.
However, when the man had finished the cigar he was smoking, he
threw away the stump and lit another cigar. This was too much for the
director. At that moment the conductor of the train passed down the
corridor, and the director called him.
“Conductor,” he said, “this gentleman keeps on smoking, although he
knows that this is a non-smoking compartment.”
The conductor turned to the other man.
“You mustn’t smoke in here, sir,” he said.
The man put his hand in his pocket and took out the card that the
director had given him, and showed it to the conductor. The conductor read
“General Director of the Danish State Railways”, and handed back the card
with a polite bow. He looked at the director, shrugged his shoulders, and left
the compartment without saying another word.
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Answer the following questions:
1. Where was a gentleman sitting?
2. What was written on the window?
3. Who entered the compartment?
4. What did the gentleman tell the man?
5. The other man said nothing, but continued smoking, didn’t he?
6. What did the first gentleman do?
7. Did the man stop smoking?
8. Who was passing down the corridor at that moment?
9. What did the gentleman say to the conductor?
10.What did the conductor say to the man?
11.What did the man show the conductor?
12.Did the conductor leave the compartment without saying a word?
OYSTERS FOR A HORSE
On a rainy day a traveler, drenched to the skin and benumbed with
cold, arrived at a country inn. The living-room was already full of people.
Realizing that there was hardly any hope to get near the fire-place our
traveler took a seat at a table by the entrance door. From his place he cried
in a loud voice addressing the landlord in the opposite corner of the room,
“Pray, take two dozen oysters to my horse and be quick about it; my horse
is as hungry as death!” “Well, I never!” exclaimed the landlord. “Oysters to
a horse!” “Do as you are told,” said the traveler, “I know better!” Hearing
the strange order given and seeing the waiter about to exercise it, all the
people in the room rushed out of to the stable to see a horse eat oysters.
Having got the whole room at his disposal the traveler sat down by the fire
and warmed himself at his ease.
In a short time all the company returned into the room, “I had no
doubt that your horse, though hungry, would refuse to eat oysters,” said the
landlord. “In that case you had better give him some hay,” said the traveler
smiling. “As to the oysters I shall try and eat them myself as soon as I am
thoroughly dry.”
Answer the following questions:
1. Who arrived at a country inn?
2. Was the living-room full of people?
3. Where did the traveler take a seat?
4. What did the traveler say addressing the landlord?
5. Why do you think he had said so?
6. Where did all people rush?
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7. Where did the traveler sit down?
8. What did the landlord say to the traveler?
9. What did the traveler answer?
10.Do you think the traveler was cunning?
11.Can you retell the story?
PROFITABLE JUGGLING
A juggler entertained an audience of miners in a village. Having
astonished the “natives” with his tricks, he asked them to lend him a
halfpenny. One of the men, with some hesitation, handed him out a coin.
The juggler made a few gestures and exhibited a shilling , which according
to him was the halfpenny miraculously turned into a shilling.
“Is that my halfpenny?” exclaimed the miner. “No doubt whatever, it
is,” answered the juggler. “Let me see it,” begged the miner. And having
turned it round and round with delight and admiration he put it into his
pocket. “Thank you for your kindness,” he said, “but I won’t give it back,
for I don’t want you to turn it into a halfpenny again.”
Answer the following questions:
1. Who entertained an audience in a village?
2. What did the juggler ask the villagers to lend?
3. What did the juggler exhibit?
4. What did the miner say?
5. What did he do with the shilling and what did he say to the juggler?
6. What would you do?
7. Did you like the story?
A HOTEL
Three men came to New York for a holiday. They came to a very
large hotel and took a room there. Their room was on the forty-fifth floor. In
the evening the three men went to the theatre and came back to the hotel
very late.
“I am very sorry”, said the clerk at the hotel, “but our lifts do not work
to-night. If you do not want to walk up to your room, we shall make beds
for you in the hall.”
“No, no”, said one of the three men, “no, thank you. We do not want
to sleep in the hall. We shall walk up to our room.”
Then he turned to his two friends and said, “It is not easy to walk up
to the forty-fifth floor, but I think I know how to make it easier. On our way
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to the room I shall tell you some jokes; then you, Andy, will sing us some
songs; then you, Peter, will tell us some interesting stories.”
So they began to walk up to their room. Tom told them many jokes;
Andy sang songs. At last they came to the thirty-first floor. They were
tired and decided to have a rest.
“Well,” said Tom , “now it is your turn, Peter. After all the jokes we
heard on our way here tell us a long and interesting story with a sad
ending.”
“It is not long, but it is sad enough. We left the key to our room in the hall.”
Answer the following questions:
1. Who came to New York for a holiday?
2. Where did they take a room?
3. Where did they go in the evening?
4. What did the clerk say when they returned?
5. What did the men answer?
6. What did one of the men say?
7. Who told jokes on their way to the room?
8. Who sang on their way to the room?
9. What kind of story did the last man tell?
10.Would you like to be in their position?
11.What would you do?
12.Now retell this story.
THREE DOLLARS
Mark Twain once told the following story.
When I was quite young and very poor, I one day needed three dollars very
much, so I sat down in a park and tried to think of a way to get that money.
Suddenly a very fine dog, a black and white terrier, came up to me,
and we soon became great friends. As I sat patting the dog’s head, which
lay on my knees, an old gentleman stopped in front of us.
“That’s a very fine dig. Would you sell him?”
“Why not?” I said.
“What do you ask for him?”
“Three dollars,” I said.
“What! Only three dollars! If it were mine, I wouldn’t sell him for a
hundred!”
“No, three dollars. That’s the price,” I said.
“All right, then.” And the old gentleman gave me the money and
walked away with the dog.
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Five minutes later another old gentleman came walking along, looking
about him everywhere. I asked him what he was looking for, and he said
that he had lost his dog, a black and white terrier. I offered to find him, but
when I said that I wanted only three dollars to do so, he protested. “Dear
me! That’s nothing. I will gladly pay you ten.”
“No, three dollars. That’s the price,” I said.
“All right, then.”
I now ran off in the direction the first gentleman had taken, and I had
some difficulty in making him let me have the dog again. I paid him back
three dollars, took the dog to his owner, and got my three dollars.
I went away with a good conscience, for I felt that I had earned the
money that I had got.
When he had finished, Mark Twain added, “Some of this story is true.”
Answer the following questions:
1. Who told the story?
2. What did Mark Twain need?
3. Who came up to him?
4. Did they become good friends?
5. Who stopped in front of them?
6. What did the man ask Mark Twain to do?
7. How much did Mark Twain want for the dog?
8. Did the man take the dog?
9. Who came suddenly?
10.For whom was he looking?
11.What did Mark Twain say to him?
12.Could he take the dog back from the man?
13.Did he bring the dog to the old gentleman?
14.How much did he earn?
THE DANGER OF LYING IN BED
(After Mark Twain)
Last year I traveled twenty thousand miles, almost always by rail; the
year before, I traveled over twenty-five thousand miles, half by sea and half
by rail; and the year before I traveled about ten thousand miles by rail. I
suppose, if I added all the little journeys here and there, I may say I have
traveled sixty thousand miles during the three years I have mentioned, and
never had any accident.
I would say to myself every morning. “Now, I have managed to keep
safe so far, and so there is a greater chance that I shall have an accident this
time. I will be wise, and buy an accident ticket. Then, when I have my
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accident, I shall be paid something.” But I went to bed that night without
one bone broken
I got tired of that, and started buying accident tickets that lasted a
month. I said to myself, “One of them must bring me some money.”
But I was mistaken. I never got any money. I could read of railway
accidents every day – the newspapers were full of them; but somehow they never
happened to me. I found that I had spent a lot of money on accident tickets, and
had nothing for it. I began to look around for somebody who had won money in
this way. I found lots of people who had paid the money for a ticket, but not one
who had ever had an accident or been paid anything.
I stopped buying accident tickets, and made a study of the problem.
The result was very surprising. THE DANGER WAS NOT IN
TRAVELLING, BUT IN STAYING AT HOME.
Answer the following questions:
1. How many miles did he travel last year?
2. How many miles did he travel the year before?
3. Had he any accident?
4. Why did he decide to buy accident tickets?
5. Was he mistaken?
6. Did he stop buying accident tickets?
7. To what conclusion did he come after he had made a study of the
problem?
THOMAS GAINSBOROUGH BUYS A LUTE
Thomas Gainsborough (1727-1788), a famous British painter, was
also considered to be quite a good musician. One of his friends said of him,
“His painting is his profession, but music his amusement, yet there are times
when music seems to be his employment and painting his diversion.”
The following amusing story illustrates his interest in music.
He happened to notice in a painting by Van Dyck, another great
painter, a picture of a lute; and because it was finely painted, he at once
thought, that a lute would be a very beautiful instrument to play.
He inquired among his friends and heard that there was a German
professor living nearby who had a lute, an unusually fine one, too.
Gainsborough went to call on him. Immediately on entering the room,
he said, “Good morning, sir. I have come to buy your lute! Name your own
price and I’ll pay it.”
“But, sir, I cannot sell my lute,” answered the professor, very much
surprised at the stranger’s words.
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“I quite understand that you do not want to sell it for a guinea or two,” said
Gainsborough, “but I am willing to buy it at whatever price you set on it.”
“My lute is a very fine one – it is worth ten guineas!” answered the other.
“Yes, so it is. See, here’s the ten guineas. Now let me have the lute.”
So saying, Gainsborough placed the money on the table, picked up the lute,
and started down the stairs. About half way down, he stopped and returned.
“Why, sir I have forgotten half of what I came for. I must buy your
music book too.”
“Oh, sir, I can never part with that,” said the professor.
“Oh, yes, you can! You can make another easily. This is the book, isn’t it?
“Yes, that is it.”
“Well, here’s ten guineas fir it!” Putting down the money, out he went
again, but he had only gone down a few steps when he returned once more.
“Well, well, what use is your book to me if I cannot understand it.
And your lute? You can take them both back if you won’t teach me to play.
Come home with me and give me the first lesson today.”
“I will come tomorrow.”
“No, no, you must come now!”
“I must dress myself. I cannot come in these old clothes.”
“Dress yourself? For what? You are the best figure I have seen today.
I’d like to paint you just as you are.”
And so Gainsborough, with his teacher, lute and music book, went
home and began his new studies at once.
Answer the following questions:
1. What is Thomas Gainsborough?
2. What did one of his friends say about him?
3. What did Gainsborough notice in a painting by Van Dyck?
4. Why did he want to buy a lute?
5. Whose address was he given?
6. What did he say when he came to professor’s house?
7. Did the professor agree to sell the lute?
8. Why did Gainsborough come back?
9. Did he buy professor’s music book?
10.Why did he come back once more?
11.What did Gainsborough decide to do?
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HONEST ABE
(After J. Doty and J. Ross)
In the early 1800s a woman came into a store in Salem, Illinois. The
town had three stores, a post-office, a mill and fifteen houses. The general
store sold everything – groceries, hardware, clothes, and medicine. The
woman first was alone in the store. Then she saw a young man. He was
lying on a counter and was reading a book on law. There were some bolts of
cloth on the counter. “How much is this cloth?” asked the woman loudly.
The young man jumped off the counter and shut his book. He was six
feet tall and had black hair.
“I was studying and did not hear you,” he said. “May I help you?”
“Can you tell me the price of this cloth?” asked the woman.
“That cloth is fifteen cents a yard, ma’am,” he replied. “These bolts over
here are twenty cents, and those over there are twenty-five cents. They are thirtysix inches wide.”
“That’s too much,” she said. “My boys need some overalls. Have you
any in size seven and size nine?”
“We have no size seven,” replied the young man. “We have none that
small. But this pair here is size nine.”
“Thank you, I will take it,” she said. “And do you have any
peppermint sticks for my children?”
“Yes, I have some for a penny a piece,” he said. “How many do you
want, please?”
“I want six,” she said, “and a pound of tea, and ten cents’ worth of salt.”
The young man was large and awkward. He was nervous and his hand
shook when he measured salt and tea.
“Don’t give me so much salt,” she said. “I don’t need that much.”
The young man looked more embarrassed, and he took some salt out
of the package.
That evening the woman told her husband about the strange young
man who lay on the counter and read books. Just then they heard a knock at
the door. The young man stood there. He held out six cents in his hand.
“This is yours, ma’am,” he said.
The woman was surprised. She did not think the money was hers.
“Yes,” said the young man. “When I sold you your salt, I charged you too
much for it. Here it is.”
“If it is mine, thank you,” said the woman. “But what did you walk
six miles for on such a stormy night?”
“I wanted to correct my mistake before I went to bed,” he said.
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The name of the young man was Abraham Lincoln. He became
president of the United States. His friends called him Honest Abe.
Answer the following questions:
1. Where did a woman come one day?
2. What can you say about the town of Salem in the early 1800s?
3. What was sold in the general store?
4. What was a young man doing?
5. Did the woman want to buy anything?
6. What did she buy?
7. Why did the young man go to the woman’s place?
8. What was the name of the young man?
9. What did his friends call him?
CHINESE VASE
(From “Mozaika”, No. 1, 1974)
When I was a child I loved visiting my grandmother. I thought her house
was as beautiful as a palace and the garden seemed bigger than a park.
As I grew older the house and the garden seemed smaller, but I still loved
visiting the old lady. There were so many lovely things to look at in the house.
Sometimes I played with the doll’s house which was older than
Grandmother herself; at other times I looked at books which were lovelier
and more interesting than my children’s books at home.
I loved her paintings and the old clock, but most of all I loved a big Chinese
vase which stood in the hall. It was taller than me, and I couldn’t see inside it. I
walked round and round it looking at the beautiful ladies and the birds and flowers
and trees, and Grandmother often told me stories about these ladies. She said that
her grandfather had brought the vase with him when he returned from a long
voyage to China.
When I married I took my two sons to visit their great-grandmother.
They were not as interested as I was in the beautiful books and the vase.
They find comics as attractive as old paintings, and pop music more
exciting than the old clock. They preferred playing football in the garden.
We live in a modern house, and I’m afraid my husband and I often
nag at the children. “Don’t make the new carpet dirty, Paul!” “Be careful
with the new table, Philip!”
Before she died, Grandmother gave me the vase I loved so much. It
looked beautiful in our modern hall.
One day I came home from the shops. The boys met me at the door. “I’m as
strong as George Bes, Mummy,” said Paul. “I got a goal and I broke the vase.”
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Philip tried to be more diplomatic than Paul, “It doesn’t really matter,
does it?” You told us it wasn’t new. You aren’t cross, are you?”
Answer the following questions:
1. Why did the author love visiting her grandmother?
2. What stories did her Grandmother tell?
3. Who brought the Chinese vase to her Grandmother?
4. Were her children as amazed as she was when they came to the
Great-grandmother’s house?
5. Did the author receive the Chinese vase as a present?
6. What did her children do with the Chinese vase one day?
TOO MUCH OF A GOOD THING
(After Ring Lardner)
My husband has to spend almost all his time in the theater and that
leaves me alone in a hotel. Pretty soon people find out whose wife I am and
introduce themselves and then they are inviting us for a weekend. Then it’s
up to me to think of some reason why we can’t come. Ben absolutely hates
visiting and thinks there ought to be a law against invitations. He found out
one method. He would write himself a telegram and sign it with the name of
one of the famous producers, and leave the telegram with his secretary
with the instructions to send it to us twenty-four hours later. When it arrived
at whatever place we were , we would put on long faces and say how sorry
we were. However, if we happened to be enjoying ourselves, then Ben
would say to our hosts that he wasn’t going to let any theatrical producer
spoil his fun.
Last September we were invited to come and spend a week with a
nice, intelligent couple, the Thayers. “I promise you,” Mrs. Thayer said,
“that you won’t be disturbed at all; we won’t invite people in. I won’t allow
Mr. Drake to even touch the piano. All day he can do nothing or anything,
just as he pleases.”
We accepted the invitation.
The Thayers met us at the station in an expensive-looking limousine.
“Ralph,” said Mrs. Thayer to her husband, “you sit in one of the little
seats and Mr. And Mrs. Drake will sit back here with me.”
“I’d rather have one of the little seats myself,” said Ben and he meant it.
“No, sir!” said Mrs. Thayer . “You came to us for a rest, and we’re not
going to start you off uncomfortable.” It was no use arguing.
After luncheon we had coffee.
“Don’t you take cream, Mr. Drake,” Mrs. Thayer asked.
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“No. Never.”
“But it is because you don’t get good cream in New York.”
“No, it is because I don’t like cream in coffee.”
“You would like our cream. We have our own cows. Won’t you try
just a little?”
“No, thanks.”
“But just a little, to see how rich it is.” She poured some cream into
Ben’s coffee-cup and for a second I held my breath and closed my eyes for
fear of seeing Ben throwing the cup in her face.
After luncheon we were sitting in the living-room when Ben rose and
went straight to the piano.
“None of that!” said Mrs. Thayer. “I haven’t forgotten my promise.”
“But there is a melody in my head that I’d like to try.”
“Oh, yes, I know all about that. You just think that you MUST play to
us! We invited you here for yourself, not to enjoy your talent.”
Ben walked over to the book-case and took a book out.
“What book is that?” asked Mrs. Thayer.
“The Great Gatsby,” said Ben. “I’ve always wanted to read it.”
“Heavens!” said Mrs. Thayer as she took it away from him. “That’s
old! You’ll find the newest ones on the table.”
Ben took a book, sat down and opened it.
And so it went all through the afternoon and evening.
All through breakfast next morning we waited for the telephone call
about the telegram. The phone did ring once and Mrs. Thayer answered, but
we couldn’t hear what she said.
After breakfast Ben told Mrs. Thayer that he had a feeling that he
must be back in New York.
“That’s very strange,” said Mrs. Thayer, “because a telegram came to
you at breakfast time. I wasn’t going to tell you about it because I had
promised that you wouldn’t be disturbed. The telegram ran: Bass part all
wrong. Would like you to come to the theater tonight.” Gene Buck.
Just at the trainmen were shouting “Board!” Mrs. Thayer said: “Please
forgive me if I have done something terrible, but I answered Mr. Buck’s telegram.
I wired: ‘Mr. Ben Drake resting at my home. Must not be bothered. Suggest that
you keep bass drums still for a week.’ And I signed my name.”
Answer the following questions:
1. Do the Drakes often receive invitations to spend weekends?
2. Does Mr. Drake like visiting and what does he think about it?
3. What remedy did they find how to interrupt the invitation?
4. Who invited The Drakes to spend a week?
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5.
6.
7.
8.
What did Mrs. Thayer promise the Drakes?
Did Mrs. Thayer keep her word?
What did the Drakes decide to do?
What did Mrs. Thayer tell the Drakes at the station?
TRUTH IS ALWAYS STRANGE, STRANGER THAN FICTION
(George Gordon Byron)
The lawyer speaks:
I would like to tell a story about my uncle Theo. He’s my oldest uncle , a
tall , thin, grey-hared man whose thoughts were always on learning and
nothing else. He’s quiet and gentle and absent-minded and with about as
much sense as a child where money is concerned.
Well, he applied for a post in Camford University. It was a very good
post and there were hundreds of candidates who applied for it, and about
fifteen, including Theo, were asked to be interviewed.
Now Camford is a very small town; there is only one hotel in it, and this
was so full that they had to put many of the candidates two in a room. Theo was
one of these, and the man who shared the room with him was a self-confident
fellow called Adams, about twenty years younger than Theo, with a loud voice,
and a laugh that you could hear all over the hotel. But he was a clever fellow all
the same. The dean, the head of the department of the University, and the
committee interviewed all the candidates; and, as a result of this interview, the
number was reduced to two, Uncle Theo and Adams. The committee couldn’t
decide which of the two to take, so they decided to make their final choice after
each candidate had given a public lecture in a college lecture-hall. The subject
they had to speak on was “The Civilization of the Ancient Greeks”; and the
lecture had to be given in three day’s time.
For three days Uncle Theo never left his room. He worked day and
night at that lecture, writing it out and memorizing it, almost without eating
or sleeping. Adams didn’t seem to do any preparation at all. You could hear
his voice and his laughter in the bar where he had a crowd of people around
him. He came to his room late at night, asked Uncle Theo how he was
getting on with his lecture, and told him how he had spent the evening
playing billiards, or at the theatre or music-hall. He ate like a horse and slept
like a log, and Uncle Theo sat up working at his lecture.
The day of the lecture arrived. They all went into the lecture-hall and
Theo and Adams took their seats on the platform. And then Theo
discovered, to his horror, that the typewritten copy of his speech had
disappeared! The Dean said he would call on the candidates in the
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alphabetical order, Adams first. With despair in his heart, Theo watched
Adams calmly take the stolen speech out of his pocket and read it to the
professors who gathered to hear it. And how well he read it! When Adams
finished there was a great burst of applause. Adams bowed and sat down.
Now it was Theo’s turn. But what could he do? He had put everything
he knew into that lecture. His mind was too much upset to put the same
thoughts in another way. With a burning face he could only repeat, word for
word, in a low, dull voice the lecture that Adams had spoken so eloquently.
There was hardly any applause when he sat down.
The Dean and the committee went out to decide who the successful
candidate was, but everyone was sure what their decision would be. Adams
leaned across to Theo and patted him on the back and said smilingly, “Hard
luck, old fellow, but, after all, only one of us could win.”
Then the Dean and committee came back. “Gentlemen,” the dean said,
“the candidate we have chosen is Mr. Theo Hobdell.” Uncle Theo had won!
The audience were completely taken by surprise, and the dean continued, “I
think I ought to tell you how we arrived at that decision. We were all filled
with admiration at the learning and eloquence of Mr. Adams. I was greatly
impressed, I didn’t think he had it in him. But you remember Mr. Adams
read his lecture to us. When Mr. Hobdell’s turn came, he repeated that
speech word by word from memory, though, of course, he couldn’t have
seen a line of it before. Now a fine memory is absolutely necessary for this
post, and what a memory Mr. Hobdell must have! That is why we decided
that Mr. Hobdell was exactly the man we wanted.”
As they walked out of the room, the Dean came up to Uncle Theo,
who was so confused but so happy that he hardly knew whether he was
standing on his head or his heels, and as he shook Theo’s hand he said,
“Congratulations, Mr. Hobdell! But, my dear fellow, when you are on our
staff, you must be more careful and not leave valuable papers lying about!”
Answer the following questions:
1. About whom is the story?
2. Can you describe his appearance?
3. What University did he apply for a post?
4. With whom did he share the room in a hotel?
5. Can you describe Adams’s appearance?
6. Who interviewed all the candidates?
7. As a result of the interview the number of candidates was reduced
to two, wasn’t it?
8. What were these two candidates supposed to do?
9. How did Uncle Theo work at his lecture?
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10.What about Adams, did he work as hard as Mr. Hobdell did?
11.Who lectured first?
12.Was Adams’s lecture a success?
13.What did Uncle Theo do after he had found out that his typewritten
copy of speech was lost?
14.How did Uncle Theo lecture?
15.To what conclusion did the committee come?
16.How did the Dean explain their choice?
17.What did he say to Uncle Theo congratulating him?
A JOKE
A well-famous American surgeon arrived in England. One day he was
shown around a big London hospital. Because of his reputation he was
treated with much respect. As the hospital was only recently opened he was
proudly shown all the latest innovations. He looked at some of the charts.
The system of abbreviations they used was familiar to him. TB stood for
tuberculosis, SF for scarlet fever and so on. He understood them all except
for a number of charts marked GOK.
He stared at them for some time, then turned to one of the physicians
accompanying him. “I understand most of these abbreviations,” he said.
“They are the same as we use back home. But this GOK – you seem to have
quite an epidemic of it, I notice. What does it stand for?”
“Oh,” replied the physician. “That’s what we use when we can’t
diagnose a case. It stands for God Only Knows.”
Answer the following questions:
1. Who arrived in England?
2. What was he shown?
3. How was he treated?
4. Was he shown latest innovations?
5. Was the system of abbreviations familiar to him?
6. Did he understand all the abbreviations?
7. When do the doctors use the abbreviation GOK?
THE INTELLIGENT YOUNG MAN
By William Saroyan
My uncle Aram liked to tell the story of a King and a young man. This
king was inclined to have absurd and ridiculous ideas, and the man, one of
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his advisers, had more good sense and wit than the King and all his
ancestors put together.
One evening the King said: “By morning I want you to let me know
how many blind people there are in this city.”
“Oh”, the adviser said. “Oh, I see.”
He went away to think of a solution to this absurd task. He invited an
expert bookkeeper, placed him on a fine horse, put a book and a pen in his
hands, and told him to ride through the city and to put down the blind as
they came to them. Then the young man tied a very large branch of a lilac
tree to the saddle of the horse with a strong rope. Dragging his branch
behind him, he began to ride over the streets of the city.
After a moment an old man in the street looked up and shouted: “My
son, what are you doing?”
The adviser turned to the bookkeeper and said: “Bookkeeper, this man
is blind. Begin your account.”
In the next street a lady put her head out of a fine house and said:
“Young man, what are you doing?” and the adviser told the bookkeeper to
continue the account.
By morning the account of the blind included all the people of the city
and the adviser and the bookkeeper turned their horses into the gardens of
the King’s palace. They were still dragging the branch of the lilac tree.
The King himself came out onto a balcony and looked down at his adviser.
“Hallo!” he shouted. “What are you doing?”
The adviser turned quickly to the bookkeeper and said: “Bookkeeper,
the account is complete. This son of a bitch is blind too.”
Answer the following questions:
1. What story did uncle Aram like to tell?
2. Was the King inclined to have absurd and ridiculous ideas?
3. What kind of ideas was the King inclined to have?
4. Was the young man cleverer than the King and all his ancestors put
together?
5. What did the King say one evening?
6. Whom did the young man invite?
7. What did he tell the bookkeeper to do?
8. What did the young man tie to the saddle of his horse?
9. What did an old man in the street say?
10.What did the adviser say to the bookkeeper?
11.What did a lady in the next street do?
12.Who came out onto the balcony?
13.What did the King shout?
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14.What did the adviser say to the bookkeeper?
BUGGING SHOWROOMS
(After “Bugging Showrooms” by Art Buchwald)
It was reported in the press that certain car dealers have been bugging
their automobile showrooms so that they can hear what people, who come
to buy a car, are saying while the salesman is in the back office, making it
easier for the salesman to know what the intentions of the buyers are.
A couple having been left alone in the showrooms have been looking at a
brown Panda for some time when the salesman comes out of the back office
saying:
“Well, Fanny, how do you like our new Panda?” pointing at the car.
Looking at the salesman in surprise the woman asks: “How did you
know my name was Fanny?”
“Your husband McKinley told me.”
The husband says: ”I never told you her name. And how did you know
my name was McKinley having never met me before?”
“The salesman says: “Well, honestly, I did not know but I took a wild
guess. You look like a Fanny and a McKinley. Now let’s talk about the car.
You want to have a brown car with brown leather seats.”
Fanny says looking at the salesman: “You must be a mind reader.”
“Having been in this business for many years I know that certain
people like certain colors.”
“Let’s get out of here,” says Fanny feeling nervous.
McKinley asks turning to the salesman: “Can I talk to my wife
alone?”
“Of course,” the salesman answers walking off to the back office and
leaving the couple alone.
“Let’s tell him we’ll think it over and be back next Tuesday,”
McKinley starts whispering to his wife.
Rushing out of the back office the salesman shouts: “Could you make
it Wednesday? I don’t work on Tuesday, and I’d hate to lose the sale.”
Answer the following questions:
1. What was reported in the press?
2. Who came to the showroom?
3. What did the salesman say to the woman?
4. Was she surprised?
5. What did the salesman answer?
6. What did the husband say?
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7. What was the salesman’s answer?
8. What did the couple at last decide?
9. Did the salesman leave the couple alone?
10.What did the salesman say?
CURIOUS PROFESSION
(After “Seeing People Off” by Max Beerbohm)
On a cold November morning I turned up at Euston to see off an old
friend of mine who was leaving for America. I saw some of our common
friends who had also come to say “good-bye” to him.
A middle-aged man who was talking to a young lady at the next
window attracted my attention. His face seemed familiar to me. The young
lady was evidently American, and he was evidently English.
Suddenly I remembered. The man was Rubert Le Ros, an actor. But
how he had changed since I saw him last time! That was seven or eight
years ago. He was then unemployed and borrowed half-a-crown from me.
It was strange to see him after all these years here on the platform of
Euston looking so smart.
“Stand back, please,” said the attendant.
The train was about to start and we said “good-bye” to our friend.
Le Ros didn’t stand back. He had the hands of the young American in
his. There were tears in his eyes.
“Stand back, Sir, please!” cried the attendant. At last he stood back.
I came up to him. He looked delighted to see me. We walked slowly
along the platform. I told him how much we missed him on the stage.
“Ah, yes,” he said, “I never act on the stage nowadays.”
“And where do you act?” I asked him.
“On the platform,” he said and offered me a cigar.
“You’ve just seen your friend off, haven’t you?” he asked me.
I told him that I thought he had done the same thing.
“No,” he said. “That lady was not a friend of mine. I met her for the
first time an hour ago here.”
It was impossible to believe this. When I told him about it he smiled.
“Have you heard of the Anglo-American Social Bureau?”
“No,” I haven’t” I answered.
Then he said: “You know, old chap, that of the thousands of
Americans who pass through England there are hundreds who have no
English friends. “The Anglo-American Social Bureau” supplies Americans
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with English friends. Fifty per cent goes to the “friends” and fifty per cent
goes to the A.A.S.B. I am not even a friend, I am only one of the seers-off”
Le Ross added.
“What do you mean by a seer-off?” I asked.
“You see, it is rather expensive to pay “the friends” of the Bureau.
Many Americans cannot afford it. So they pay for seeing them off which is
rather cheap. The pay is only five pounds for a single traveler and eight
pounds for a party of two or more.”
“But is it worth it?” I asked.
“Of course, it is worth it,” said Le Ros. “Their fellow passengers
believe they have English friends and become friendly to them. The
attendant is very attentive to them too. You saw me seeing that young lady
off. Didn’t you think I did it beautifully?”
“Yes, beautifully,” I said.
“It’s not an easy job to act like that. A railway station is a very
difficult place to act.”
“And what about tears in your eyes?”
“Oh, I learned it. It was a hard job. Now I can teach you too. I have a
lot of students already. I can give you a lesson on Tuesdays and Fridays,” he
said consulting his black notebook.
Answer the following questions:
1. Where did the author go on a cold November morning?
2. Who was talking to a young lady?
3. Did his face seem familiar to the author?
4. Did he remember him?
5. How many years ago did he see him?
6. What did the attendant say?
7. Did the author come up to him?
8. What did he tell the man?
9. What was the answer?
10.Where did he act?
11.What did he tell the author?
12.Can you imagine this kind of business?
RIDING THE TANDEM
(After Jerome K. Jerome)
It happened in my friend’s early married years. Harris, that was his name,
was riding a tandem together with his wife through Holland. The roads were bad
and the machine often jumped. “Sit tight, Harris said to his wife. But Mrs. Harris
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thought he had said “Jump off”. Why she thought so none of them could explain
later on. The fact is she really jumped off while Harris went on riding and in no
time Mrs. Harris found herself sitting in the dust in the middle of the road. She got
angry, then she pulled herself together.
When she saw her husband riding up the hill she believed that he did
not want to miss the chance to show what a good sportsman he was. But
when Mr. Harris did not stop on the hill to wait for her and disappeared
down it she was first shocked, then worried. She quickly ran into a wood a
mile. What was she to do? She had no money, she did not know Dutch. She
tried to explain to people, she met in the wood, what had happened. They
thought that something had been lost but could not understand what it was.
At the nearest village they found a policeman for her. He concluded from
her pantomime that someone had taken her bicycle. They used a telegraph
and found in a village four miles off a poor boy riding a lady’s machine.
The boy was brought to her but it didn’t help to solve the problem at all.
Meanwhile Harris went on riding with much pleasure. He felt
splendid. He was so strong as he had been before. He started riding at a high
speed. He wanted to show his wife how fast he could go. When he had
covered about five miles, he was shocked to realize that his wife was
missing. He almost fell off the bicycle. Then he rode back. In ten minutes
he came to the place where the road broke into four. He stopped and tried to
remember which road he had come down, but could not. Soon he stopped a
passer-by and explained to him that he had lost his wife. The man did not
look surprised or sorry for him. He advised Harris to ride to the police
station at the nearest town. There Harris was given a sheet of paper and was
asked to write down a full description of his wife with as many details as
possible about her dress and when and where he had lost her.
Harris was at a great loss. First of all he could only tell them that she
was beautiful and to his great disappointment that did not satisfy them. He
remembered a blue skirt and then possibly a blouse, but was it green, or
yellow, or blue? He could not say. Then he did not know when and where
he had lost her. All he could tell was the name of the village where he had
lunched.
He knew he had her with him, and that they had started from there
together. No wonder the police doubted whether she was really his wife, if
he had really lost her and why he had lost her. But thanks to a hotel-keeper
who spoke a little English the matter was cleared up and the police
promised to act.
In the evening Mrs. Harris was brought to him together with a bill for
expenses. The meeting as you imagine was not a tender one.
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Answer the following questions:
1. Who was riding a tandem together with his wife?
2. Through what country was he riding?
3. What did Harris say to his wife?
4. What did Mrs. Harris understand?
5. She really jumped off, didn’t she?
6. What did Harris do after that?
7. Did Mrs. Harris get angry with him?
8. What did she think of Harris?
9. Where did she go?
10.Did she try to explain what happened?
11.Did they understand what she was trying to explain?
12.What did they think?
13.What was Harris doing meanwhile?
14.When did Harris realize that he had lost his wife?
15.Whom did he address?
16. Who helped Harris to clear up the matter?
17.When did they see each other?
18.Was their meeting a tender one?
LUGGAGE QUESTION
(After Jerome K. Jerome)
When you decide to go on a tour, the usual luggage question arises.
The best way is to make that list; I had learned it myself years ago from my
Uncle Podger.
“Always before beginning to pack,” my Uncle usually said, “make a list.”
He was a methodical man.
“Take a piece of paper” – he always began at the beginning – “ put down
on it everything you can require; then go over it and see that it contains nothing
you can possibly do without. Imagine yourself in bed; what have you got on?
Very well, put it down. You get up; what do you do? Wash yourself. What else do
you wash yourself with? Soap; put down soap. Go on till you have finished. Then
take your clothes. Begin at your feet; what else do you want besides clothes? A
little brandy; put it down. A corkscrew; put it down. Put down everything, then
you don’t forget anything.”
That is the plan he always followed himself. When the list was made,
he usually went over it carefully, as he always advised, to see that he had
forgotten nothing. Then he went over it again, and stroke out everything he
could possibly do without.
Then he usually lost the list.
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Answer the following questions:
1. What is the problem when you decide to go on a tour?
2. What is the best way before packing?
3. What did Uncle Podger advise to do before packing?
4. Did he himself follow this plan?
5.What do you do before packing?
ON THE WEATHER
(After Jerome K. Jerome)
I wanted to write about something altogether new, something that
nobody else had ever written or talked about before. I went about for days,
trying to think of something of this kind, and I couldn’t.
When I asked for advice I was suggested to write about the weather.
And ever since that idiotic suggestion I have been unable to get the weather
out of my thoughts.
It certainly is most wretched weather. At all events, it is so now, at the
time when I am writing , and if it isn’t unpleasant when you read this, it
soon will be.
It always is wretched weather, according to us. In summer we say it’s too
hot, in winter that it’s too cold, in spring and autumn we are not satisfied because
it’s neither one nor the other. If it is fine, we say the country is ruined because it
does not rain; if it rains, we wish for fine weather. If December passes without
snow, we want to know what has become of our good old wines; and when it
snows we are again displeased. We shall never be pleased until each man makes
his own weather, and keeps it to himself.
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
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What did the author want to write about?
What advice did he receive?
What is the weather like in summer?
What is the weather like in winter?
What about the weather in autumn and spring?
What do we say if it is fine?
What do we say if it rains?
What do we say if December passes without snow?
When shall we be pleased?
Short stories for oral and written reproduction
THE TRICK
(After W. S. Maugham) ( “Gigolo and Gigolette”)
The restaurant was crowded with rich people who wanted to see
Stella’s trick. On the stage of the restaurant there was a tank with very little
water in it, and high above it there was a small platform. When Stella
appeared on the platform the music stopped and the lights went down.
Her husband poured some petrol on the water and set it a light; the
flames soared up and she dived straight into them. A second later the
audience saw Stella come out of the tank.
Syd Cotman (that was her husband’s name) wrapped the dressing gown
round her. She bowed and bowed. The applause went on. With a final wave of the
hand she ran between the tables to the door and left the hall. The lights went up.
Usually Stella gave two shows daily. That day after the first show Stella and
her husband were sitting in two armchairs in the corner of the bar.
Stella’s hands were tightly clenched. The tears were rolling down her
pale face.
“What’s the matter, darling?”
“Syd, I can’t do it again tonight,” she sobbed.
“Why on earth not?”
“I’m afraid I’ll kill myself.”
“I know you better than that,” he said. “You are the bravest little
woman in the world. You do it wonderfully. It makes a great impression on
them. The trick is much spoken of. It’s different from what they can see
anywhere else. You can’t disappoint your public like that.”
“That filthy public. Swine who eat too much and drink too much. A pack of
chattering fools with more money than they know what to do with. I can’t bear
them. What do they care if I risk my life. I give you word, today I thought I was
going to faint. I tell you I can’t do it again tonight. I can’t help it.”
Syd was silent for a moment.
“I’ll go and speak with the manager. Will you wait here?” he asked.
“No, I’ll go to the dressing-room.”
Ten minutes later he found her here. He was in great spirits.
“I’ve got a grand news for you, honey. They are keeping us on next
month at twice the money.”
“Am I to go on again tonight?
“I am afraid you must. I tried to make it only one show a night but
nothing came out of it.”
This time Stella burst into a storm of tears.
“I can’t Syd, I can’t. I shall kill myself.”
“Darling, you can’t refuse a sum like that.”
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“I’m frightened I don’t want to die, Syd. I love you.
“I know you do, darling, and I love you. Where should I be without you?”
“What do you think they come and see me over and over again for?”
Stella continued.
“On the chance they’ll see me kill myself. And a week after I’m dead
they’ll forget my name. Oh, Syd, I’m so miserable.”
Stella started crying again. Syd did not know what to do. He loved his
wife and didn’t want her to suffer so much. He remembered their past. They
had gone through hard times. They had been out of work for months. Then
he thought of this trick. They got a contract, they had money and a flat. He
looked at Stella. It seemed to him she was also thinking about their life.
He took her in his arms and held her. If Stella felt like that about it,
damn all the money.
Suddenly Stella stood up and went over to the dressing table.
“I expect it’s about time for me to be getting ready,” she said.
He started to his feet.
“You are not going to do a show to-night?”
“To-night and every night till I kill myself.”
Answer the following questions:
1. Who came to see Stella’s trick?
2. What was on the stage of the restaurant?
3. What happened when Stella appeared on the platform?
4. What did her husband do?
5. Where did Stella dive?
6. How many shows did Stella usually give?
7. What conversation took place after her performance?
8. Did Stella’s husband talk to the manager?
9. What did Stella decide to do at last?
HOME
(After W. S. Maugham)
The farm, an old-fashioned stone house, was built in 1673, and for
three hundred years the people had been born and died in it and had farmed
the surrounding land.
George Meadows was a man of fifty and his wife, Mrs. George was a
year or two younger. They were both fine men in the prime of life. Their
three daughters were lovely and their two sons were handsome and strong.
The master of the house was not George, but his mother, who was
twice the man her son was, as they said in the village. She was a woman of
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seventy, tall, upright, with grey hair and a wrinkled face. Her eyes were
bright and shrewd and she had a sense of humour. Her word was law in the
house and on the farm. In short she was a character.
One day Mrs. George met me in the street and told me that they had
received a letter from their Uncle George informing them of his coming.
“Just fancy,” she said, “he hasn’t been for fifty years. And old Mrs.
Meadows sits there and smiles to herself. All she says is that he was very
handsome, but not so steady as his brother Tom!” Mrs. George invited me
to come and see the old man. I accepted the invitation with joy. More than
fifty years ago, when Mrs. Meadows was Emily Green, a young charming
girl, George and his younger brother Tom both courted her. When Emily
married Tom, George had gone to sea. For twenty years he sent them
presents now and then, then there was no more news of him. After her
husband’s death Emily wrote George about it, but never received an answer.
And the previous day, to their greatest surprise they received his letter, in
which he wrote that he was crippled with rheumatism and feeling he had not
much longer to live, wanted to return to his house in which he was born.
When I came the whole family was assembled in the kitchen. I was amused
to see that Mrs. Meadows was wearing her best silk dress. On the other side of the
fireplace sat an old man with a wrinkled yellow face. He was very thin and his
skin hung on his bones like an old suit too large for him. Captain George, as he
had called himself, told us that he had been so ill he thought he would never be
able to get back. He said good-humouredly: “I feel now better and stronger than I
have for many years, dear Emily!” No one had called Mrs. Meadows by her
Christian name for a gentleman and it gave me a shock, as though the old man
were taking a liberty with her. It was strange to look at these two old smiling
people and to think that nearly half a century ago he had loved her and she had
married another.
When I asked him if he had over been married he said he knew too
much about women for that. Then he added looking at Mrs. Meadows: “I
said I’d never marry anyone but you, Emily, and I never had.” He said it
with regret, but with some satisfaction.
Captain Meadows told us a lot of interesting stories about his
adventures and about many things he had seen and done.
“Well, one thing you haven’t done, George, and that is to make a
fortune!” said Mrs. Meadows with a thoughtful smile.
“Oh, I’m not one to save money. Make it and spend it, that’s my
motto. But if I had a chance of going through my life again I’d take it. There
are not many people, who’d wish it!”
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I looked at this toothless, crippled, penniless old man with admiration
and respect. That was a man who had made a success of his life, because he
had enjoyed it.
Next morning I decided to see the old man again. I saw Mrs.
Meadows in the garden picking white flowers. I asked her if Captain
Meadows was well. “Oh, dear, he had always been a harum-scarum fellow!
He boasted that he was so happy to be back in his old home that he would
live for another twenty years. Alas! He died in his sleep.” Mrs. Meadows
smelt the flowers she held in her arms and added thoughtfully: “ Well, I’m
glad he came back. After I married Tom and George went away, I was
never sure I had married the right man!”
Answer the following questions:
1. When was an old-fashioned stone house built?
2. What can you say about George Meadow’s family?
3. Who was the master of the house?
4. Can you describe Mrs. Meadows?
5. What did Mrs. Meadows receive one day?
6. What was written in the letter?
7. Can you describe Uncle George Meadows?
8. Did Captain Meadows tell many interesting stories about his
adventures?
9. Did he become rich?
10.Would you also make money and spent it like Captain Meadows?
11.What did Mrs. Meadows tell about Captain Meadows when the
author came next morning?
12.Was Mrs. Meadows sure she had married the right man?
THE ANT AND THE GRASSHOPPER
(After W. S. Maugham) (abridged)
When I was a very small boy I was made to learn by heart certain of
the fables by La Fontaine, and the moral of each was carefully explained to
me. Among those I learnt was The Ant and the Grasshopper, which is
devised to bring home to the young the useful lesson.
I could not help thinking of this fable when the other day I saw
George Ramsay lunching by himself in a restaurant. He looked as though
the burden of the whole world sat on his shoulders. I suspected at once that
his unfortunate brother had been causing trouble again. I went up to him and
held out my hand.
“How are you is it Tom again?” I asked. He sighed. “Yes, it’s Tom again.”
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“Why don’t you chuck him? You’ve done everything in the world for
him. You must know by now that he’s quite hopeless.”
I suppose every family has a black sheep. He had begun life decently
enough: he went into business, married and had two children. But one day,
without warning, he announced that he didn’t like work and that he wasn’t
suited for marriage. He wanted to enjoy himself. He left his wife and his
office. He had a little money and he spent two happy years in the various
capitals of Europe. They shook their heads and asked what would happen
when his money was spent. They soon found out: he borrowed. Once or twice his
brother George fell on Tom’s promises of amendment and gave him considerable
sums in order that he might make a fresh start. But when circumstances forced
George to realize that his brother would never settle down and he washed his
hands of him, Tom began to blackmail him. Tom said that to serve in a bar or to
drive a taxi was a perfectly decent occupation, but if George could oblige him
with a couple of hundred pounds he didn’t mind for the honour of the family
giving it up. George paid.
Once Tom nearly went to prison. It cost George an infinite deal of
trouble and five hundred pounds to settle the affair.
For twenty years Tom raced and gambled, danced, ate in the most
expensive restaurants, and dressed beautifully. Though he was forty-six you
would never have taken him for more than thirty-five. He had high spirits, an
unfailing gaiety. You could not approve of him, but you could not help liking him.
Poor George, only a year older than his brother, looked sixty. He was
honest, industrious, and worthy. He had a good wife and four daughters to
whom he was the best of fathers. He made a point of saving a third of his
income and his plan was to retire at fifty-five to a little house in the country.
He was glad that he was growing old because Tom was growing old too. He
rubbed his hands and said: “In four years he will be fifty. He won’t find life
so easy then. I shall have thirty thousand pounds by the time I’m fifty. For
twenty-five years I’ve said that Tom would end in the gutter.”
“Do you know what’s happened now?” he asked me.
I was prepared for the worst.
“You’re not going to deny that all my life I’ve been hardworking.
After a life of industry and thrift I can look forward to retiring.”
“True.”
“And you can’t deny that Tom has been an idle, worthless rogue.
“True.”
“A few weeks ago he became engaged to a woman old enough to be
his mother. And now she’s dead and left him everything she had. Half a
million pounds, a yacht, a house in London, and a house in the country.”
George Ramsay beat his fist on the table.
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“It’s not fair. It’s not fair.”
Answer the following questions:
1. What was he made to learn when he was a young boy?
2. What fable did he remember?
3. Whom did the author see in a restaurant?
4. Why was he upset?
5. What about his brother Tom?
6. Had he begun his life decently?
7. Had he a wife and two children?
8. What did he announce one day?
9. How did he spend time in Europe?
10. Did he bring much trouble to his brother George?
11. What was George going to do when he retired?
12. What news did he receive from his brother Tom?
13. How did George react?
IDENTIFICATION DOCUMENT
I accompanied my husband when he went to get a haircut. Reading a
magazine, I found a hairstyle I liked for myself, so I asked the receptionist if
I could take the magazine next door to make a copy of the photo. “Leave
some ID – a driver’s license or credit card,” she said.
“But my husband is here getting a haircut,” I explained.
“Yes,” she replied. “But I need something you’ll come back for.”
(From Reader’s Digest, January, 2000, p. 80).
Answer the following questions:
1. Where did she accompany her husband?
2. What did she find reading a magazine?
3. Whom did she address?
4. What did the receptionist ask?
5. What did she say?
6. What was the receptionist’s answer?
A PIZZA DELIVERER
A friend was thinking about buying a new house in the country and
asked me to come out and look it over with him. We found the town, but
couldn’t locate the road.
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We drove over the city hall, where a community get-together was
going on, and asked around, but no one had heard of the road. Even the
policemen and fire personnel were stumped. We went into the city hall and
consulted a map, with no luck, until finally one young man came to our
rescue. He pointed to the map, showing us exactly how to get there.
I thanked the man and asked if he was with the police force or the fire
department. “Neither,” he said, smiling. “I deliver pizzas.”
(From Reader’s Digest, January, 2000, p.81.)
Answer the following questions:
1. What did the friend ask the author to do?
2. Could they find the road to the place?
3. Where did they drive?
4. What was happening there?
5. Could people explain how to get there?
6. Who came at last to their rescue?
7. Was he a policeman or fire personnel?
8. What was he?
OVERHAULING A BICYCLE
(By Jerome K. Jerome)
There are people who are madly fond of overhauling bicycles. I knew a
man… his name was Ebbson, if I am not mistaken. I used to meet him once.
He suggested one evening that we should go for a long bicycle-ride
together on the following day and I agreed. I got up early. I made an effort,
and was pleased with myself. He came half an hour late. I was waiting for
him in the garden. It was a lovely day, he said.
“That’s a good-looking machine of yours.”
He caught hold of it by the front wheel and the fork and shook it
violently.
I said: “Don’t do that; you’ll hurt it.”
I didn’t see why he should shake it; it hadn’t done anything to him.
He said “This front wheel wobbles.”
I said: “It doesn’t if you don’t wobble it.”
He said: “This is dangerous! Have you got a wrench?”
I ought to have been firm, but I thought that perhaps he really did
know something about the business. I went to the tool-shed to see what I
could find. When I came back he was sitting on the ground with it; the front
wheel between his legs, he was playing with it; the rest of the machine was
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lying on the path beside him. Then he unscrewed something somewhere,
and many little balls rolled out over the path.
“Catch them!” he shouted; “We must not lose them.”
We looked for the ball-bearings for half an hour, and found sixteen.
He said: “I hope we have got them all, if not, it will make a serious
difference to the machine…”
And then began a real fight between him and the machine. One
moment the bicycle was lying on the path and he was on top of it: the next
moment, the position changed – he was on the path and the bicycle on top
of him. Now he was standing victorious, the bicycle between his legs. But
the triumph was very short. With a quick movement, the bicycle turned
upon him, and hit him over the head.
Yes, there are two ways you can get sport out of a bicycle: you can
“repair” it, or you can ride it. But it is impossible to get both forms of sport
out of the same machine; no machine will stand it.
Answer the following questions:
1. There are people who are fond of overhauling bicycles, aren’t there?
2. What was the man’s name?
3. What did the man suggest?
4. Did the author agree?
5. Did the man come on time?
6. What did he say about the author’s bicycle?
7. What did the man do?
8. What did the man say about the front wheel?
9. Did the man begin repairing the bicycle, or not?
10.What did the author see when he came back?
11.Where did the balls roll out?
12.How many balls did they find?
13.Did the man manage to “repair” the bicycle?
14.What are two ways you can get sport out of a bicycle?
15.Is it possible to get both forms of sport out of the same machine?
SUCCESS STORY
(After James Gould Cozzens)
I met Richard about 10 years ago when I came to South America to
work for Pan-America Company. Richard worked for the same Company.
He was a short pleasant man of 22, who easily made friends with people
and I liked him.
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Soon after I arrived, Pan-America Co signed a contract for the
construction of a plant. I made most of the calculations and Richard only
helped me because he wasn’t very good at this job.
In January a few representatives of the customers together with the
President of the company, Mr. Prossert, arrived from the USA. The next day
our company manager invited all of them to go and see the construction of
the plant. They decided to go there by train. The manager asked Richard
and me to pick up Mr. Prossert at the hotel and take him to the station.
On the way to the station Mr. Prossert asked me a lot of questions and
I often answered: “I’m afraid I don’t know, sir. We haven’t made any
calculations on that.”
Although I knew the job better than Richard I was very much
surprised when Richard began to speak: “I did these calculations last night,”
he said, “just for pleasure.” “Oh,” said Mr. Prossert, “That’s very
interesting. Well, now, probably you could tell me about …”
And Richard could. He knew everything. He answered all the
questions Mr. Prossert asked him. When we got to the station Mr. Prossert
said good-bye to Richard. (However he didn’t say good-bye to me.) On our
way back to the office I told Richard what I thought of him.
“Your information wasn’t true. Why did you give him that kind of
information?” I said. “You see, John, if the President of a big company
wants to know something, why can’t I tell him everything he wants?” “But
is he going to think if he checks the information?” “Do you think he’ll
remember it? What he is going to remember is you and me. He is going to
remember that Pan-America Co has a clever young man, Richard by name,
who could tell him everything he wanted to know and the other man who
couldn’t answer his questions.”
Some time later I remembered all that. I read in one of the newspapers
that Richard is Vice-President of a big American Company. As to me I’m
still doing my ordinary everyday job for Pan-America Co.
Answer the following questions:
1. Whom did the author meet when he came to South America to
work for Pan-America Company?
2. Can you describe Richard?
3. What kind of contract did Pan-America Company sign?
4. Who made most of the calculations?
5. Who came from the USA?
6. What did the manager ask Richard and the author to do?
7. Did Mr. Prossert ask the author a lot of questions?
8. What did he often say?
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9. Was the author surprised when Richard said that he had made
calculations?
10.Did Richard answer all the questions Mr. Prossert asked?
11.What did the author say to Richard when Mr. Prossert went away?
12.What did Richard answer?
13.What did the author learn after having read one of the newspapers?
14.What do you think about Richard?
THE COOK
(After J.M. Ward)
Susan and Peter got married in Rome where Peter was working as a
teacher at the Parker Institute. They lived in a nice room at the Anconi
Hotel and had their meals at the restaurant of the hotel.
Some time later Susan got an urgent telegram from her home in
England, which said that her mother felt bad. So she had to fly to London.
Today she was to come back and Peter was waiting for her at Rome
airport. The plane was landed with a short delay. Susan got off, went
through the Customs and Passport Control and came up to Peter.
“Hello,” she said. How are you?”
“Fine. And you?”
“Oh, I am tired, but happy to be back. Any news?”
“Yes, I’ve rented a comfortable flat for us. I’ve been living there for a
week already. It is very close to the Anconi Hotel. Are you glad, Susan?”
“Of course I am, but I’m also afraid. You know. I can’t cook.”
“It’s all right. I’ll cook our meals. And we won’t have to eat at home
all the time. We can sometimes go to the Anconi restaurant and eat our
favourite dishes there.”
It took them about an hour to get from the airport to their new home.
“Well, you have a look at the flat,” Peter said, “and I’ll cook our
lunch. We are going to have fried meat, if you don’t mind. It will be ready
very quickly.” And he went to the kitchen. Soon Susan came in and looked
at the meat.
“It looks very nice, but why are you cooking it without butter?”
“Never mind,” Peter said, “It’ll cook itself. We can go and have some beer.”
In the room they sat down on the sofa and began to drink beer and
exchange news. Some minutes later Susan asked: “Don’t you think the meat
can burn?”
They came into the kitchen.
“It has burnt, after all,” Peter said.
“Have you ever cooked meat before?” Susan asked.
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“As a matter of fact, I haven’t.”
“Neither have I,” said Susan. “You know what, let’s go to the Anconi
restaurant. They serve delicious fried meat there.”
Answer the following questions:
1. Where did Susan and Peter get married?
2. Where was Peter working?
3. Where did they live?
4. Why had Susan to fly to London?
5. Who met her at Rome Airport?
6. What news did Peter tell Susan?
7. Why was Susan afraid?
8. Did Peter cook their lunch?
9. Was he a success?
10.What did they decide to do?
TOO WELL
(after O’Henry)
Possi Carrington was born in Cranberry, a small beautiful village.
When she was 17 she left for New York. In New York she started
working at the drama theatre. She was very talented and some years later
she became a famous actress.
Once the director of the theatre she was playing at decided to put on a
modern play about the country life. Possi was going to play the leading part,
but they could not find an actor for the male part.
One day a young man came to see the director and asked him to give
him the part. But it was only Miss Carrington who could make a choice,
because she knew the country life very well and wanted to have a partner
who could give a convincing performance of a countryman.
The young actor wanted to have the part very much and he thought of
a plan. He asked many people about Miss Carrington and found out
everything about her.
Two days later he left for Cranberry. He stayed there for a few days
and then came back to New York.
Once when Miss Carrington was having lunch with her friends in a
small restaurant, a young man came up to their table and said to Miss
Carrington:
- Good morning! Don’t you remember me? I am Bill Summers from
Cranberry.
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Miss Carrington didn’t remember anybody by this name, but when he
began telling her the news about her old friends she was extremely
interested.
“You know, I saw your mother only a few days ago.” – the young man said.
“Oh really? How is she?”
“When I came she was sitting near the house and looking at the road.
She said: “Possi has gone this way and something tells me she will come
back this way.”
Miss Carrington was very excited. She asked the young man to come
and see her again.
“Now I’d like to go as I’m a bit tired,” she said.
The next day the young actor came to the hotel where Miss Carrington was
staying. He wanted to tell her everything and to ask her to give him the part.
But the hotel clerk said: “Miss Carrington has left for Cranberry.”
“Will she come back?”
“I believe not.”
The young man’s performance was evidently too good.
Answer the following questions:
1. Where was Possi Carrington born?
2. When did she leave for New York?
3. She was very talented and some years later she became a famous
actress, didn’t she?
4. What did the director of the theatre decide to do once?
5. Possi was going to play the leading part, wasn’t she?
6. Who wanted to play the male part?
7. Who could make a choice for the male part?
8. What did the young man do?
9. Why did the young man go to Cranberry?
10.Why was Miss Carrington interested in hearing the news about her
old friends?
11.Did she ask the young man to come and see her again?
12.Where did the young man go the next day?
13.What was his decision?
14.What did the hotel clerk tell him?
15.Why do you think Miss Carrington has left for Cranberry?
16.Was the young man’s performance convincing?
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A JOB IN MEXICO
It happened some years ago. Two of my friends lived in a small town near
Liverpool. They were out of work and were happy to agree to any job. Their
names were Stevenson and Black. Stevenson was a very talented engineer, and as
he had a large family and no money to live on his life was very difficult.
One day when I was coming back from my office I saw Stevenson. He was
going along the street with a suitcase in his hand. Stevenson had read an
advertisement that a manufacturing plant of chemical equipment wanted an
engineer.
“You see, I must get that job. I’ve got a large family.”
“Why must you go to Liverpool yourself?” I asked, “it’s better to send
the documents by airmail.” “I think,” Stevenson answered, “many people
want to get the job and I’m sure all of them will send letters. If I get there
before the manager of the plant receives the letters I think I’ll be able to get
the job.”
Stevenson was right. He received the job.
My other friend Black had lost three or four jobs though he was a very
good clerk. I told him Stevenson’s story The story impressed him. A few
days later I met Black with a suitcase in his hand. “Where are you going?” I
asked him. “To Mexico,” was the answer. “A bank there requires a clerk. I
have sent my documents by post, but to settle the matter sooner I decided to
go there myself. I remember the story you told me the other day about
Stevenson.”
So Black went to Mexico City. But his letter had come there three
days earlier. When he came to the Bank and spoke to the assistant-manager,
the assistant-manager said, “I’m sorry to say we have already got a man.
But I’ll clarify the matter with the manager.” And he left the office.
“Yes,” the manager said, “I have received a letter from a man who
lives near Liverpool. His name is Black. A good young man, he suits us all
right. I’ve sent him a telegram to come here immediately and we’ll keep the
job for him 10 days.”
“There is a man outside, said the assistant-manager, “who wants to
get this job.”
“But we’ve got this man Black and we’ll wait for him.”
Black had not heard the conversation between the manager and his
assistant. He had to go back home. But as he had spent all his money and
nobody in Mexico could help him it took him two months to get back to
England. There he found the telegram which was waiting for him.
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Answer the following questions:
1. Were the author’s two friends out of work?
2. What were his friends’ names?
3. Was Stevenson a talented engineer?
4. Where was Stevenson going one day when the author met him?
5. Did Stevenson manage to get a job?
6. Did the author tell Black Stevenson’s story?
7. Did the story impress Black?
8. What did his friend tell him when he met him in the street a few
days later?
9. What was Black told when he came to the Bank of Mexico City?
10.Did Black receive the job?
11.What did Black find when he came home?
A TRANSACTION
(After “Parson’s Pleasure” by R. Dahl)
Mr. Boggis was dealing in antique furniture and had his own shop.
When customers came to his shop he showed them round it so that they
could see the whole range of his goods.
Mr. Boggis was a talented salesman: he could buy furniture at a very
low price several times higher. He bought furniture from people in the
country who don’t know the value of antique furniture.
One Sunday Mr. Boggis was delighted to find a very old commode by
a famous carpenter. There were only four commodes of this kind. Other
salesmen had sold the three commodes at an extremely high price, and that
was the fourth.
It was a nice piece of furniture with beautiful legs.
Mr. Boggis wanted to buy the commode but he did not want to show
Mr. Rummond who had the commode that it was great value.
Mr. Boggis said: “Well, the commode doesn’t look beautiful. I can’t
compare it with the others that I already have. Besides, it’s not the original,
it’s a copy of a commode by a well-known carpenter. I’ve just remembered
that I could use its legs for some other furniture, but I can’t buy the whole
commode just for the legs.”
“How much could you give for the commode if you are interested in
the legs?” asked Mr. Rummond.
“Shall we say 20 pounds? That will be quite reasonable.”
“Make it 35.”
“I can’t offer you a higher price, this is my final offer!”
“I’ll take it,” Rummond said. “It’s yours. How are you going to take it?”
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“In my car. I’ve left it not far from here.”
Mr. Boggis walked to his car to get it nearer the door. He was smiling
to himself. The commode was his for 20 pounds and he could get 15 or 20
thousand pounds for it later.
In the house Mr. Rummond discussed the transaction with his son Bert.
“You did very well,” Bert said, “Do you think he will pay you?”
“We shan’t put it into the car till he pays us the money.”
“The commode is very big and what if it doesn’t go in the car? He’ll
go away and you’ll never see him or his money again. Besides, he didn’t
like it very much.”
“I can’t say he did.”
“Listen to me, father. I’ve got an idea. He told us that he wanted only
the legs. Right? So all we’ve got to do is to cut them off right now before
he comes back. Then the commode will go in his car. Besides, he won’t
have to cut them off at home himself.”
“It’s not a bad idea,” Rummond said.
After they had cut off the legs Rummond thought that the commode
was still big for Mr. Boggis’s car and he was afraid that Mr. Boggis would
not take it. So he decided to cut the commode itself into several pieces. It
was very difficult to do it and Rummond said, “That was a good carpenter
who did the job.”
“We are just in time,” Bert said, “Here he comes.”
Answer the following questions:
1. What was Mr. Boggis dealing in?
2. Why was Mr. Boggis a talented salesman?
3. What did he find one Sunday?
4. What did Mr. Boggis say to Mr. Rummond?
5. How much did Mr. Boggis offer for the commode?
6. With whom did Mr. Rummond discuss the transaction?
7. Mr. Boggis went to his car to get it nearer the door, didn’t he?
8. What was the suggestion of Mr. Rummond’s son?
9. What did they do with the commode?
10.Do you think that Mr. Boggis will buy this commode?
A LEGEND
(From “The Thorn Birds” by Colleen McCullough)
There is a legend about a bird which sings just once in its life, more sweetly
than any other creature on the face of the earth. From the moment it leaves the
nest it searches for a thorn tree, and does not rest until it has found one. Then,
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singing among the savage branches, it impales itself upon the longest, sharpest
spine. And, dying, it rises above its own agony to outcarol the lark and the
nightingale. One superlative song, existence the price. But the whole world stills
to listen, and God in His heaven smiles. For the best is only bought at the cost of
great pain. … Or so says the legend.
1. There is a bird which sings just once in its life, isn’t there?
2. How does this bird sing?
3. What does it search for?
4. Does it impale itself upon the longest, sharpest spine?
5. Does it sing better than the lark and the nightingale when dying?
6. Why does the whole world still?
7. How can you interpret the sentence: “For the best is only bought at
the cost of great pain”?
8. Can you give your own example when “the best is only bought at the
cost of great pain”?
9. Would you like to listen to the Russian translation of this legend? In
case you do, then listen to it…
Есть такая легенда – о птице, что поет лишь один раз за всю свою
жизнь, но зато прекраснее всех на свете. Однажды она покидает свое
гнездо и летит искать куст терновника и не успокоится, пока не
найдет. Среди колючих ветвей запевает она песню и бросается грудью
на самый длинный, самый острый шип. И, возвышаясь над
несказанной мукой, так поет, умирая, что этой ликующей песне
позавидовали бы и жаворонок, и соловей. Единственная, несравненная
песнь, и достается она ценою жизни. Но весь мир замирает,
прислушиваясь, и сам бог улыбается в небесах. Ибо все лучшее
покупается лишь ценою великого страдания…. По крайней мере, так и
говорит легенда.
10. Now render this legend in English.
A SHOPWINDOW
(From Mozaika)
I do display work in a small-town store, dressing the mannequins in
the window and arranging the backgrounds. On one occasion, while I was
out on the sidewalk studying my handiwork, a man I didn’t know came
walking by. Our little community is a friendly place, so I nodded briefly,
and he went on down the street.
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The afternoon progressed, and in another hour or so I was again
outside the window studying the final effect. Back up the street came the
same man. He paused, gave me a thoughtful look and then proffered this bit
of advice: “Lady, if you like it so much, you might as well buy it.”
1. What kind of work does she display?
2. Who was walking by?
3. Did she nod?
4. What was she doing when the man came to the shopwindow?
5. What kind of advice did the man give?
6. Can you retell the story?
A FABLE BY AESOP
A hare laughed at a tortoise one day and said: “You have as many legs
as I have, but you can’t run nearly as quickly as I can. Perhaps you can’t run
at all. You must have been very badly brought up, and I am surprised that
your parents didn’t give you a better education.”
“I quite agree”, the tortoise answered quietly, “that I can’t run very
fast. You can run and talk very much quicker than I can. But all the same I
don’t mind having a five-mile race with you.”
At first the hare was very annoyed. She thought that the tortoise was very
rude and bold to suggest such a thing. Of course, it seemed as if it was absolutely
impossible for the tortoise to win. But the hare considered the matter for a
moment and then said: “Come along, then, but you can’t possibly win.”
So it was agreed that they should start at once. The hare ran a mile in a
few moments.
“I am sure to win”, the hare thought to herself. “In fact I am quite
sure to win.” There is no doubt about it whatever: the tortoise has only
walked a yard or two. If I take a short nap under the shade of this grass, it
won’t matter in the least; I have plenty of time.”
While the lazy hare was sleeping, the tortoise walked patiently on and
on for many hours. He walked very slowly, it is true, but he never stopped.
When the evening came, the hare suddenly woke up and she was
surprised to find how late it was. So she began running again as fast as she
could. But when she had run the five miles, she found that the tortoise had
already got there a long time before.
The tortoise had won in spite of the fact that he could not run, and the
hare had lost on account of her laziness and over-confidence.
1. Who laughed at a tortoise one day?
2. What did the hare say about the tortoise?
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3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
race?”
What did the tortoise answer?
Did they decide to compete?
What did the hare do after having run a mile?
Did the tortoise stop for a rest?
Who won in this competition?
Do you happen to know the proverb: “Slow and steady wins the
THE VERY FINE CLOCK
(After Muriel Spark)
Once there was a very fine clock whose name was Ticky.
Professor Horace John Morris, had brought Ticky from Switzerland
many years ago.
“You are a very fine clock, Ticky,” he said one night. “You are
always on time, and you are never too fast or too slow. In fact you are more
reliable of all my friends.”
“I’m delighted to hear it, Professor John,” Ticky replied.
Every Thursday night Professor John would entertain four of his
friends who came to visit him.
Ticky would listen eagerly as the five professors sat talking to each
other on Thursday nights.
One Thursday evening Professor Norman Bailee said to Ticky,” You
know, Ticky, you are the cleverest of us all because you can tell the exact
time without looking at the clock.”
All the other professors agreed that this was so.
Ticky thanked the professors warmly for their compliment. He added,
“I could not keep the time, of course, without the help and care of my
friend, Professor John, who winds me up at exactly fourteen minutes past
ten every night.”
“But,” said Professor Sturge Baldwin Parker, “if it were not for you ,
Ticky, how could Professor John be sure it was fourteen minutes past ten?”
Nobody was able to answer this question. Professor Maximilian
Rosmini said that he had an important suggestion to make.
“I suggest,” he said, “that Ticky is as wise as any of us, and so he
should be called Professor Ticky.”
The other four professors all said this was a splendid idea.
Ticky then made a speech.
“I am very happy to hear your suggestion,” Ticky said.
“But I am afraid that if I were to become professor Ticky, I would
lose the friendship of all the other clocks in the house.”
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“You see, when Professor John goes off in the morning to sit all day
in his professor’s chair at the university, and when the rooms have been
cleaned and dusted, then all the house is silent except for the sound of the
clocks in the other rooms. It is then that we speak to each other and tell all
the stories of our lives.”
“Most of all I like Pepita, the Spanish mother-of-pearl orphan clock
in the spare bedroom. I love her especially when her heart misses a beat.”
“Professors, there is an old saying that my grandfather told me:
‘Heart speaks to heart.’ And this is true of us all in this house. And so, my
dear professors, I must decline to be Professor Ticky. My fellow clocks
would never feel the same about me. They would think that I had become
too grand for them to talk to, while I would feel very much left out of their
company. Please do not think me ungrateful.”
When the professors had heard this speech of Ticky’s, they all said
they admired him more than ever.
Ticky smiled and pointed his hands towards midnight. As the four
visitors rose to leave, he mused, “Why the charming Pepita would not know
how to say the word ‘professor’. All she can say is ‘Ticky, Ticky, Ticky.’
All day long she says, ‘Ticky, Ticky, Ticky,’ to me.”
Answer the following questions:
1. What was the name of a very fine clock?
2. From where had Professor Horace John Morris brought the clock?
3. What did Professor John say to Ticky one day?
4. Who visited Professor John every Thursday?
5. What did they say about Ticky?
6. What was one of the professor’s suggestion?
7. What kind of speech did Ticky make?
8. Did all the professors admire Ticky?
9. What did Ticky think of Pepita?
MALDONADA AND THE PUMA
The case of Maldonada is narrated by Rui Diaz Guzman in his history
of the colonization of South America.
In 1536 the Spanish settlers at Buenos Ayres, exhausted by heavy
battles with the local Indian tribes and having used all their provisions, were
on the verge of starvation. Out of two thousand people in the town, eighteen
hundred died of hunger. During this unhappy time, wild animals in large
numbers were attracted to the settlements by the smell of the corpses, which
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were buried in the outskirts of the town. The survivors would go to the
woods only at the risk of a violent death.
A Spanish woman, by the name of Maldonada once lost her way in the
woods, and was found by Indians, who took her to their village. Maldonada
stayed with the Indians, because they were not intending to do her any harm.
Several months later, the Governor of the Spanish settlement discovered her
whereabouts and persuaded the Indians to bring her back to town.
When Maldonada appeared in front of the Governor, she was accused of
staying with the Indians and betraying the colony. The Governor condemned her
to be devoured by wild beasts. She was taken to the forest, where the soldiers tied
her to a tree and left her there for three days and nights.
Three days later the Governor sent his soldiers to the forest to pick up
Maldonada’s bones and show them to the people in the town. The soldiers
went to the forest and were greatly astonished to find Maldonada alive,
without a hurt or scratch. She told them that a puma had come to her aid,
and defended her life against all the other beasts that approached her.
The Governor was very amazed the hear her story and released the
young woman, considering her to be saved by Providence.
Answer the following questions:
1. Who narrated the case of Maldonada?
2. The Spanish settlers were on the verge of starvation, weren’t they?
3. How many people died of hunger?
4. Were wild animals attracted to the settlements?
5. Would the survivors go to the woods?
6. Who lost her way in the woods?
7. Who found her?
8. Why did she stay with the Indians?
9. What did the Governor discover one day?
10. What was she accused of?
11. Was she taken to the woods?
12. Did the Governor send the soldiers to the wood?
13. What did the soldiers see?
14. Was the Governor amazed to hear her story?
15. Did he release the young woman?
16. Why did he release her?
17. Did you like the story?
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THE FARMER AND THE BOY
(After Jerome. K. Jerome)
One morning a farmer met a boy and asked him: “Do you want a job?”
“Yes, I do,” said the boy. “Can you give me a good character then?”
asked the farmer. “Yes, I can give you a character,” said the boy. “It is from
Mr. Muggs, the shopkeeper. My last job was with him.”
“Well,” said the farmer, “go and ask Mr. Muggs to come here and
speak to me. I shall wait here”.
Five minutes passed – ten minutes. Mr. Muggs did not come.
Later in the afternoon the farmer saw the boy again. “Mr. Muggs did
not come to me with your character,” said the farmer.
“No, sir,” answered the boy. “I did not ask him to come”.
“Why not?” asked the farmer.
“Well, I told him who wanted it,” said the boy.
“Well?” asked the farmer.
“Well, then he told me your character,” explained the boy.
Answer the following questions:
1. Whom did a farmer meet one day?
2. What did the farmer ask the boy about?
3. What did the farmer require from the boy?
4. What was the boy’s last job?
5. What did the farmer ask the boy to do?
6. Did the boy come back to the farmer?
7. Why did the boy not come to the farmer?
A GOOD LESSON
(After Jerome K. Jerome)
One day a rich lady invited a well-known artist to her house. The
name of the artist was Corney. She asked him to sing for the guests. But she
did not invite him to dinner with them; she ordered dinner for him
downstairs together with her servants. The artist did not object. He dined
well and after dinner rose and addressed the company:
“Well, now, my good friends,” he said, “I want to sing to you.”
The servants were, of course, very glad. And so he sang to them.
There was no piano. But he sang to his audience for half an hour even
without it.
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At ten o’clock the lady asked the artist to come up to the drawingroom. Corney went there. All the guests were already sitting in the drawingroom waiting.
“We are ready, Mr. Corney,” said the hostess.
“Ready for what?” asked Corney.
“For your songs,” answered the hostess.
“But I have sung already,” answered Corney, “and I cannot sing twice
in an evening.”
“You have sung already to-night! But when did you sing and where?”
“An hour ago, downstairs.”
“But this is impossible!” cried the hostess.
“I thought a little strange you were not there,” said Corney; “but, you
know, I always dine with the company to which I sing.”
“And with these words he left the drawing-room.
Answer the following questions:
1. Who invited a well-known artist to her house?
2. What did she ask him to do?
3. Did the lady ask him to dinner with her guests?
4. Where did she order dinner for him?
5. Did he sing to the servants?
6. When did the lady ask the artist to come to the drawing-room?
7. Did the artist sing to the guests?
8. How did he explain his refusal to sing?
9. Did you like the story?
10. Now retell the story.
AN ABSENT-MINDED MAN
(After Jerome K. Jerome)
I have an absent-minded friend. His name is McQuae. One day I asked
him to dine with me.
“Come on Thursday,” I said to him. “Now, don’t forget,” I added,
“and don’t come on Wednesday.”
He laughed and took his notebook.
“Of course, I shall not come to you on Wednesday,” he said; “on
Wednesday I shall be very busy at the club, and on Friday I start for
Scotland. I must be there on Saturday. I shall come to you on Thursday.”
He wrote it down in his notebook.
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“I hope he will come,” I said to myself when Thursday evening came.
At eight o’clock the other guests began to come. I looked at my watch. A
quarter past eight. He was not there! We waited for him till half past-eight.
Then we began dinner without him.
On Friday, at a quarter past eight, he suddenly rang at my door.
Hearing his voice in the hall I, of course, went to meet him.
“Sorry I am late,” VcQuae said, “that tram took me to Alfred place
instead of…”
“Well, what do you want now?” I asked him. He was an old friend so
I could be a little rude to him.
He laughed and said: “Why, my dinner, of course.”
“Oh, I answered, “well, you can go and get it at some restaurant. You
cannot have it here.”
“But you asked me to dinner on Thursday – not on Friday,” I said.
“I don’t know; I only remember you must go to Edinburgh to-night.
So you told me last time.”
“Oh!” he cried. “So I must go to the station immediately.”
And without another word he ran out of the room.
Answer the following questions:
1. What friend has the author and what is his name?
2. Did he invite his friend to a party?
3. Did his friend come to the party on time?
4. When did he come to the party?
5. Did his friend come on Friday instead of coming on Thursday?
6. Did his friend forget about his departure to Scotland?
7. Did you like the story?
8. Now retell it.
UNCLE PODGER AT WORK
(After Jerome K. Jerome)
There are many people who say they like to do a little piece of work
themselves.
My dear Uncle Podger is just that sort of man. He likes pictures very
much and often buys them. But let me tell you what happens when he hangs
a picture on the wall.
Well, a picture comes home from the shop. It is standing in the diningroom. It is necessary to put it up; and Uncle Podger says:
“Oh, leave that to me. I will do it myself.”
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Then he takes off his coat and begins. But he has no nails. He sends
the girl to buy some nails. Then he sends one of the boys to tell her what
size to buy. Then he shouts:
“Now you go and get me my hammer, Will; and bring me the ruler,
Tom; and I shall want the ladder, Jim, and a kitchen chair too. And don’t go
away, Maria, because I shall want somebody to hold the light; and when the
girl comes back, she must go out again for some cord; and Tom! – Where is
Tom? - Tom, come here; I shall want you to hand me up the picture.”
When all is ready and Tom hands him the picture, he lifts it up and
drops it, and it comes out of the frame. He tries to save the glass, and cuts
himself. Then he runs round the room, looking for a handkerchief, because
it is in the pocket of his coat, and he does not know where his coat is. All
the house must start looking for his coat, while he is sitting on it.
Half an hour passes. At last we tie up his finger, bring him a new
glass, all the tools which he wants. The whole family stands round him
ready to help. Two of us hold a chair, a third helps him to get up on it and
hold him there. A fourth hands him a nail. A fifth hands him the hammer.
He takes the nail and drops it.
And we all must go down on our knees and look for it, while he stands
on the chair and grumbles:
“Will you keep me here all the evening?”
At last we find the nail, but this time he has lost the hammer.
“Where is the hammer?
At last we find the hammer for him, and then he has lost the mark
which he made on the wall for the nail, and each of us must get on the chair
beside him and try to find it. We each discover it in a different place, and he
calls us all fools and tells us to get down.
At last Uncle Podger finds his mark for the nail, and puts the point of
the nail on it with his left hand, and takes the hammer in his right hand.
With the first blow, he smashes his thumb, and drops the hammer on
somebody’s foot. Then he comes down and runs round the room asking for
some cold water.
He tries again, and, at the second blow, the nail goes through the wall
and the hammer falls.
Then we must find the hammer again, and he makes a new hole.
About midnight, the picture is up at last, and everybody is very tired except,
of course, Uncle Podger.
“There you are!” he says, coming down from the chair. “Why, other
people call in a special man to do a little thing like that!”
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Answer the following questions:
1. What kind of man is Uncle Podger?
2. What does he say when it is necessary to hang the picture?
3. What orders does he give to Tom, Jim, Maria and others?
4. What happens when Uncle Podger tries to hang the picture?
5. How does the whole family help him?
6. Why could he not hang the picture?
7. Could he manage at last to hang the picture?
8. Do you happen to know other people like Uncle Podger?
A DISCOVERY
(After R.A. Divine, et al.)
One day in 1926, George McJunkin, a black cowboy, was riding along
a dry creek known as Dead Horse Gulch, near Folsom, New Mexico.
Suddenly he noticed some unusual bones protruding from the mud. Probing
these remains with his knife, the cowboy uncovered several flint points.
Although they somewhat resembled Apache arrowheads, they were
strikingly different from anything McJunkin had ever found in the area.
News of the discovery excited the curiosity of archeologists, who concluded
that McJunkin had stumbled across the skeleton of an ancient bison and tips
from the spears of early Native American hunters.
These “Folsom men” lived at least ten thousand years ago, far earlier
than anyone had previously dated even the oldest Native American
civilizations. And as later discoveries revealed, their ancestors were Stone
Age hunters from Siberia who had migrated to North America some twenty
thousand years earlier.
Answer the following questions:
1. Who was riding along a dry creek known as Dead Horse Gulch,
near Folsom?
2. What did he suddenly notice?
3. What did the cowboy do?
4. Although they somewhat resembled Apache arrowheads, they were
strikingly different from anything McJunkin had ever found in the area,
weren’t they?
5. Whose curiosity did the discovery excite?
6. What did the archeologists conclude?
7. When did “Folsom men” live?
8. Their ancestors were Stone Age hunters from Siberia, weren’t they?
9. When did they migrate to North America?
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A MISERLY MAN
A miserly man was approached by a friend who did his best to
persuade him to dress more in accordance with the station in life.
“I’m surprised,” said his friend, “that you should allow yourself to
become shabby.”
“But I’m not shabby,” said the miser.
“Oh, but you are,” said his friend. “Remember your father. He was always
neatly dressed. His clothes were always well tailored and of the best material.”
“Why!” shouted the other, triumphantly, “these are clothes I’m
wearing were my father’s.”
Answer the following questions:
1.By whom was a miserly man approached?
2. What did his friend persuade the miserly man to do?
3. What did his friend say?
4. What did the miserly man answer?
BILLIARDS
(After Mark Twain)
The game of billiards has destroyed my naturally kind temper. Once,
when I was an underpaid reporter in Virginia City, whenever I wished to
play billiards I went out to look for an easy mark. One day a stranger came
to town and opened a billiard parlor. I looked at him over carelessly. When
he proposed a game, I answered, “All right.”
“Just knock the ball around a little so that I can get your gate,” he said;
and when I had done so, he remarked: “I will be perfectly honest with you.
I’ll play with you left-handed.” I felt hurt for he was cross-eyed, freckled,
and had red hair, and I decided to teach him a lesson. He won first shot, ran
out, and took my half-dollar.
“If you can play like that with your left hand,” I said, “I’d like to see
you play with your right.”
“Cannot play at all,” he said, “I’m left-handed.”
Answer the following questions:
1. What has destroyed his naturally kind temper?
2. What did he want to play?
3. Who came to Virginia City?
4. Did the man propose him a game?
5. What did the reporter answer?
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6. What did the man ask him to do?
7. What did the man say?
8. Did he feel hurt?
9. What did he decide to do?
10.Did the man win the first shot?
11.What did the reporter say to the man?
12. What did he answer?
HONOURED AS A CURIOSITY IN HONOLULU
(After Mark Twain)
If I get into conversation with a stranger in Honolulu, and want to find
out what kind of man your stranger is, strike out boldly and address him as
“Captain.” Watch him carefully, and if you see by his face that you are on
the wrong track, ask him where he preaches. It is a safe bet that he is either
a missionary or captain of a whaler. I became personally acquainted with
seventy-two captains and ninety-six missionaries. The captains and
ministers form one-half of the population; the third fourth is composed of
common Kanakas and mercantile foreigners and their families; and the final
fourth is made up of high officers of the Hawaiian Government.
A solemn stranger met me in the suburbs one day, and said:
“Good morning, your reverence. Preach in the stone church over
there, no doubt?”
“No, I don’t. I’m not a preacher.”
“Really, I beg your pardon, captain. I trust you had a good season.
How much oil ---“
“Oil! Why, what do you take me for? I’m not a whaler.”
“Oh! I beg a thousand pardons, your Excellency. Major-General in
the thousand troops, no doubt? Minister of the Interior, likely? Secretary of
War? First Gentleman of the Bedchamber? Commissioner of the Royal!”
“Staff man. I’m no official. I’m not connected in any way with the
Government.”
“Bless my life! Then who are you? What are you? And how did you
get here? And where did you come from?”
“I’m only a private personage – a modest stranger – lately arrived
from America.”
“No! Not a missionary! Not a whaler! Not a member of his Majesty’s
Government! Not even Secretary of the Navy! Ah! Heaven! It is too good to be
true; alas! I do but dream. And yet that noble, honest face – those frank eyes – that
massive head; your hand; give me your hand, bright man. Excuse these tears. For
sixteen years I have yearned for a moment like this, and – - ”
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Here his feelings were too much for him, and he fainted. I pitied this
poor creature from the bottom of my heart. I was deeply moved. I shed a
few tears on him, and kissed him for his mother. I then took the money he
had, and went away.
Answer the following questions:
1. What should you do if you want to find out what kind of man the
stranger is?
2. If you see that you are wrong, what question should you ask?
3. He personally became acquainted with seventy-two captains and
ninety-six missionaries, didn’t he?
4. What is the population of Honolulu composed of?
5. Who met the author in the suburbs one day?
6 . How did he greet him?
7. Was he every time mistaken?
8. What did the author say at last?
9. What happened to him?
10. What did the stranger do?
THE LAST LEAF
(after O. Henry)
Sue and Johnsy were poor artists and they lived in a street where art
people lived. They had a studio in the top of a three-story brick house.
In autumn Johnsy fell ill. It was a pneumonia. Johnsy lay in bed and
looked through the window at the brick wall of the next house.
One morning the doctor invited Sue to the corridor.
“The girl is seriously ill,” he said, “she has one chance in ten. And that
chance is for her to want to live.”
Sue came back into Johnsy’s room. Johnsy lay with her face towards
the window. Suddenly Sue heard a low sound. She went quickly to the bed.
Johnsy’s eyes were open wide.
“Twelve, eleven, ten,” she counted, “nine, eight, seven.”
Sue looked out of the window. “What is Johnsy counting?” She could
see only a yard and the brick wall. There were only a few leaves on it.
“What is it, dear” asked Sue.
“Six,” said Johnsy. “Three days ago there were almost a hundred leaves on
the ivy vine. Now they are falling faster. There are only five leaves now. When
the last leaf falls I must go too. Didn’t the doctor tell you?”
“Oh, I never heard of such nonsense,” said Sue. Don’t be silly and try
to take some soup now.
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But Johnsy did not turn her head from the ivy vine.
“No, I don’t want any soup. There are four leaves now and I want to
see the last leaf. I know it must fall soon, and then I must die too.”
“Johnsy, dear,” said Sue, close your eyes and don’t look out of the
window. I must finish my pictures by tomorrow and send them. I need the
light and cannot draw the curtains down.
“Can you draw in the other room?” asked Johnsy, coldly.
“I want to be near you, said Sue.
Johnsy closed her eyes and lay white and still. “I am tired of waiting,”
said she.
“Try to sleep,” said Sue. “I must call Behrman. I want to ask him to
pose for me.”
Old Behrman was an artist too. He lived on the ground floor in the
same house. He was over sixty. Behrman was a failure in art, but he still
hoped to paint a masterpiece. Now he painted only advertisements.
Sometimes he served as a model to young artists.
Sue found Behrman in his little room. She told him about Johnsy’s illness.
“My friend is very ill and weak,” she said. “She thinks that she must
die when the last leaf falls from the ivy vine.”
When Sue got up next morning and came up to Johnsy’s bed, Johnsy
was not asleep.
“Draw the curtain up,” said Johnsy. “I want to see.” After the heavy
rain and the strong wind that blew all night long, there was still one leaf on
the ivy vine.
It is the last leaf,” said Johnsy. It must fall today and I must die at the
same time.”
The day passed and even in the evening they could see one leaf on the
ivy vine.
Johnsy lay for a long time and looked at the leaf. Then she said: “I
was a bad girl, because I wanted to die, Sue. You may bring a little soup
now and some milk.”
The doctor came in the afternoon. In the corridor he said to Sue, “She
is much better now, she is getting well. Now I must go downstairs.
Behrman, an artist, is seriously ill. Pneumonia too. He is an old weak man.
There is no hope for him.”
The next day the doctor said to Sue, “She is out of danger. Good food
and care now – that’s all.”
And that afternoon Sue came to the bed where Johnsy lay.
“ I have something to tell you, dear,” she said. “Mr. Behrman died of
pneumonia today in the hospital. He was ill only two days. They found him
in the morning of the first day in his room seriously ill. His shoes and
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clothes were wet and very cold. They also found a lamp and a ladder, some
brushes and some yellow and green colours. Now look out of the window,
dear, at the last ivy leaf on the wall. Didn’t you wonder why it never moved
when the wind blew? Ah, dear, it’s Behrman’s masterpiece – he painted it
there the night that the last leaf fell.”
Answer the following questions:
1. Sue and Johnsy were poor artists, weren’t they?
2. Where did they live?
3. Who fell ill?
4. What did the doctor say about Johnsy’s illness?
5. What did Sue hear Johnsy do?
6. What did Johnsy say about the falling leaves?
7. Whom did Sue tell about this?
8. Did Behrman paint the last leaf?
9. Did Johnsy feel better?
10.What happened to Behrman?
11. Did Sue tell Johnsy about Berman’s last masterpiece?
THE DINNER PARTY
(After N. Monsarrat)
Let me tell you about a problem, which put my uncle Octavian in a
difficult position thirty years ago.
Thirty years ago I myself was fifteen. That is not really important
though it was important to me at that time. More important to this story is
that my uncle Octavian was then a rich man in the best part of his life and
his villa at the sea was a meeting place of rich people. He was a hospitable
and most pleasant man – until January 3, 1925.
There was nothing special about that day, in the life of my uncle
Octavian, except, that it was his fifty-fifth birthday. As usual, on such a day,
he was giving a dinner party, a party for twelve people. All of them were
old friends. I was staying with my uncle at his beautiful villa near the sea
and on that happy day my uncle invited me to dinner. I was glad to be in
such a company. The company included two rich ladies and their husbands,
a newspaper owner and his beautiful American wife, a minister of France, a
statesman of Germany, a Habsburg prince and princess.
At that age, on holiday from school, you will understand that I was very
glad. Even today, thirty years later, I can tell you that the company was excellent.
And I tell you that they were all old and close friends of my uncle Octavian.
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Towards the end of that wonderful dinner when the servants had left,
my uncle turned to the princess to see a wonderful diamond ring on her
hand. I remember that the diamond in her ring shone in the light as she
turned her hand towards my uncle.
Across the table, the newspaper owner said: “May I also have a look,
Therese!” She smiled. Then she took off the ring and gave it to him. “It was
my grandmother’s ring,” she said. “I have not worn it for many years.”
Everybody in the room wanted to see the ring. The ring was passed from
hand to hand. For a moment it stayed in my own hand. Then I passed it to my
neighbour. I remember that she passed it on. I was almost sure of that.
Twenty minutes later the princess stood up; it was the signal for the
ladies to leave the room. She looked round us with a pleasant smile. Then
she said: “Before we leave you, may I have my ring back?”
I remember my uncle Octavian said: “Oh, yes – that wonderful ring!”
I remember that the newspaper owner said: “ Oh, you must not forget that!”
And one of the women laughed.
Then there was a pause. Each of us looked at his neighbour. Then
there was silence. The princess was still smiling, though less easily. She did
not like to ask for things twice. “If you please,” she said proudly. “Then we
can leave the gentlemen to their wine.”
When nobody answered her, and the silence continued, I still thought
that it could only be a joke and that one of us – probably the prince himself
– would show the ring. But when nothing happened at all, I knew that the
rest of the night would be terrible. Nobody knew what to do or say. Then all
the guests examined the whole room, but they did not find the princess’s
ring – a thing which probably cost two hundred thousand pounds. It had
disappeared in the room where there were only twelve people who knew
each other very well.
No servants had entered the room. Nobody had left it for a moment.
The thief was one of us, one of uncle Octavian’s dear old friends.
I remember that the French minister began to turn out his pockets, but
my uncle stopped him.
Uncle Octavian’s face was pale. “There will be no searching, he said.
“Not in my house. You are all my friends. The ring is lost. If it is not
found,” he bowed towards the princess, “I shall pay for it myself,”
The guests began to look for the ring again. It was never found,
though the guests stayed till morning. Nobody wanted to leave the house
first. They still hoped to find the ring. The ring was never found.
I myself went back to England, and school, a few days later. I don’t
know how much my uncle Octavian paid for the ring. I know that he never
came back to his house near the sea, and then he lived alone for the rest of
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his days. I know that, to our family’s surprise, he was almost a poor man
when he died. He died, in fact, a few weeks ago, and that is why I feel I can
tell the story.
He died a sad man with the special sadness of a hospitable man who
never gave a lunch or a dinner party for the last thirty years of his life.
Answer the following questions:
1. Who is telling the story?
2. On what occasion did his uncle give a party?
3. Who was invited to the party?
4. What happened towards the end of the party?
5. Could they find the ring?
6. What did uncle Octavian say?
7. Did he die a poor man?
A FRIEND IN NEED
(By William Somerset Maugham)
(abridged)
“It’s rather a funny story,” he said. “He wasn’t a bad chap. I liked him.
He was always well-dressed and smart-looking. He was handsome in a way,
with curly hair and pink-and-white cheeks. Women thought a lot of him. A
bit of money used to come in for him once a quarter and he made a bit more
by card-playing. He won a good deal of mine, I know that.”
Burton gave a kindly little chuckle. I knew from my own experience
that he could lose money at bridge with a good grace.
“I suppose that is why he came to me when he went broke. He came
to see me in my office one day and asked me for a job. I was rather
surprised. He told me that there was no more money coming from home and
he wanted to work. I asked him how old he was.
“Thirty-five,” he said.
“I’m afraid I can’t do anything for you just yet,” I said.
He didn’t move. He went rather pale. He hesitated for a moment and
then he told me that he had a bad luck at cards for some time. He’d pawned
everything he had. He couldn’t pay his hotel bill. If he couldn’t get
something to do he’d have to commit suicide.
“Well, isn’t there anything you can do except play cards?” I asked him.
“I can swim,” he said.
“Swim!”
I could hardly believe my ears; it seemed such an insane answer to give.
“I swam for my university.”
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“I was a pretty good swimmer myself when I was a young man,” I said.
Suddenly I had an idea.
Pausing in his story, Burton turned to me.
“Do you know Kobe?” he asked.
“No,” I said.
“Then you don’t know the Shioya Club. When I was a young man I
swam from there round the beacon and landed at the creek of Tarumi. It’s
over three miles and it’s rather difficult on account of the currents round the
beacon. Well, I told the young man about it and I said to him that if he’d do
it I’d give him a job. I could see he was rather taken aback.”
“You say you are a good swimmer,” I said.
“I’m not in good condition,” he answered.
I didn’t say anything.
“All right,” he said. “When do you want me to do it?”
I looked at my watch It was just after ten.
“The swim shouldn’t take you much over an hour and a quarter. I’ll
drive round to the crack at half past twelve and meet you. I’ll take you back
to the club to dress and then we’ll have lunch together.”
“Done,” he said.
We shook hands. I wished him good luck and he left me. I had a lot of
work to do that morning and I only just managed to get to the creek at
Tarumi at half past twelve. But I needn’t have hurried; he never turned up.”
“Did he funk it at the last moment?” I asked.
“No, he didn’t funk it. He started all right. The currents round the beacon
were more than he could manage. We didn’t get the body for about three days.”
I didn’t say anything for a moment or two. I was a trifle shocked.
Then I asked Burton a question.
“When you made him that offer of a job, did you know he’d be
drowned?”
He gave a little mild chuckle and looked at me with those kind and
candid blue eyes of his.
“Well, I hadn’t got a vacancy in my office at the moment.”
Answer the following questions:
1. How does Burton describe the young man?
2. Did the young man go broke?
3. Whom did he come to ask for a job?
4. Was he refused to be given a job?
5. What did he tell Burton about his life?
6. On what condition did Burton promise the young man a job?
7. Did the young man agree ?
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8. What did the author ask Burton about?
9. What is your opinion about Burton?
10. Can you retell the story?
THE LUNCHON
(After William Somerset Maugham)
It was twenty years ago when I was living in Paris. I had a small flat
and I was earning very little money. She had read a book of mine and had
written to me about it. I answered, thanking her, and then I received from
her another letter in which she asked me if I would give her a luncheon at
Foyot’s. Foyot’s is a restaurant at which French senators eat and I had never
thought of going there. But I was flattered and I was too young to say “no”
to a woman. I answered I would meet her at Foyot’s on Thursday at half
past twelve.
She was not so young as I expected. She was in fact a woman of forty.
I was frightened when the menu was brought, for the prices were a great
deal higher than I expected. But she said, “I never eat anything for
luncheon. I never eat more than one thing. I think people eat too much
nowadays. A little fish, perhaps. I wonder if they have any salmon.”
Well, it was early in the year for salmon and it was not on the menu,
but I asked the waiter if there was any. Yes, they had a beautiful salmon, I
ordered it for my guest. The waiter asked her if she would have something
while it was being cooked. “No”, she answered, “I never eat more than one
thing. Unless you have a little caviar.”
I knew that caviar was very expensive and I could not afford it, but I
could not tell her that, I told the waiter to bring caviar. For myself I chose
the cheapest dish on the menu and that was a mutton chop.
Then came a question of drink.
“I never drink anything for luncheon,” she said.
“Neither do I” I answered quickly.
“Except white wine,” she went on.
“What would you like?” I asked her.
“My doctor won’t let me drink anything but champagne.”
I ordered half a bottle. I said that my doctor had not allowed me to
drink champagne.
“What are you going to drink , then?”
“Water.”
She ate the caviar and she ate the salmon. She talked of art and literature and
music. But I wondered what the bill would come to and whether I had enough to
pay it. I knew exactly how much money I had and if the bill came to more I
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decided that I would put my hand in my pocket and with a dramatic cry get up and
say my money had been stolen. If she had not money enough to pay the bill, then
the only thing to do would be to leave my watch and say I would come back and
pay later. At last she finished.
“Coffee?” I said.
“Yes, just an ice-cream and coffee,” she answered.
So I ordered an ice-cream and coffee for her.
“You know, there is one thing I believe in,” she said, as she ate the
ice-cream. “One should always get up from a meal feeling one could eat a
little more.”
“Are you still hungry?” I asked.
“Oh, no. I’m not hungry, you see I don’t eat luncheon. I have a cup of
coffee in the morning and then dinner, but I never eat more than one thing
for luncheon. You see, you’ve filled yourself with a lot of meat and you
can’t eat any more. But I’ve just had a snack and I shall enjoy a peach.”
The bill came and when I paid it I found that I had only enough for a very
small tip. Her eyes stopped for a moment on the three francs I left for the waiter
and I knew that she thought me mean.” But when I walked out of the restaurant I
had the whole month before me and not a penny in my pocket.
“Follow my example,” she said as we shook hands, “and never eat
more than one thing for luncheon.”
“I’ll do better than that,” I answered. “I’ll eat nothing for dinner tonight.”
“Humorist!” she cried, jumping into a cab. “You’re quite a humorist.”
But I have had my revenge at least. Today she weighs about three
hundred pounds.
Answer the following questions:
1. Where did the author live twenty years ago?
2. Did he earn much money at that time?
3. What did she write him about?
4. Did he answer her letter?
5. What did she write in her second letter about?
6. What was his answer?
7. Was she young?
8. Why was he frightened when the menu was brought?
9. What did she say about her luncheon?
10.What did she want for her luncheon?
11.Did he order salmon as she wanted?
12.What did the waiter ask her?
13.What did she want to have while salmon was being prepared?
14.Did he order caviar for her?
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15.What did she want to drink?
16.Did he order champagne for her?
17.What kind of drink did he order for himself ?
18.What did she talk about during luncheon?
19. What did the author think about when she was enjoying her luncheon?
20.What did she want for a desert?
21.Was he able to pay the bill?
22.What advice did she give when parting?
23.What did he answer?
24.Had he had his revenge?
A STRING OF BEADS
(by William Somerset Maugham)
(abridged)
“What luck that I’m placed next to you,” said Laura, as we sat down
to dinner.
“For me,” I replied politely.
“I’ve got a story to tell you. Well, I was there when it happened. I
was dining with Livingstones. Do you know the Livingstones?”
“No, I don’t think I do.”
“They had asked their governess to come in to dinner because at the
last moment some woman informed them she could not come – and they
would have been thirteen at table. Their governess was a Miss Robinson,
quite a nice girl and rather pretty”.
“There was a man at dinner who is a celebrity in his way. He’s a Count
Borcelli and he knows more about precious stones than anyone in the world.”
“Miss Robinson was sitting opposite to him.”
“That’s a very beautiful necklace that young lady has on,” said
Borcelli. “She’s wearing one of the finest strings of pearls that I have ever
seen in my life. It must be worth fifty thousand pounds.”
“Nonsense.”
“I give you my word.”
“Miss Robinson, do you know what Count Borcelli says? He says
that string of pearls you’re wearing is worth fifty thousand pounds.” We all
turned and looked at Miss Robinson.
“Well I made a very good bargain,’ she said, ‘because I paid fifteen
shillings for it.”
“We all laughed. It was of course absurd. We’ve all heard stories of
wives showing their husbands as false a string of pearls that was real and
expensive. Those stories are as old as hills.”
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“It was clear to us that the Count had made a mistake. Then an
extraordinary thing happened.”
“At that very moment the butler bent over Miss Robinson and
whispered something in her ear.”
“Mrs. Livingstone’, she said, ‘Dawson says there are two men in the
hall who want to speak to me at once.”
“Well, you’d better go,” said Mrs. Livingstone.
“I hope they haven’t come to arrest her, I said to Mrs. Livingstone.
“Don’t talk nonsense,” said Mrs. Livingstone.
“Then the door opened and Miss Robinson walked in. I noticed at
once that the necklace was gone. She came back to the table, sat down and
with a smile threw on it … a string of pearls.”
“Well, Miss Robinson said that when she went into the hall she found two
men who said they had come from Jarrot’s Stores. She had bought her string there
as she said, for fifteen shillings. She had to take it back to the store because the
clap was loose and had only got it that afternoon. The men said they had given her
the wrong string. Someone had left the string of real pearls at the jeweller’s to be
restrung, and the assistant had made a mistake.”
“Well, that is the reason why Miss Robinson was wearing that string
of real pearls. Of course she gave it back to them – she couldn’t do anything
else I suppose – and then they returned her own string to her. Then they said
that although they were under no obligation to her, they were instructed to
give her a check of three hundred pounds as a compensation. Miss
Robinson showed the check to us.”
“When the time came for her to go on a holiday she told Mrs.
Livingstone that she had made up her mind to go to Deauville for a month.
Then she wrote a letter to Mrs. Livingstone that she hoped that Mrs.
Livingstone would forgive her if she didn’t return.”
“What had actually happened was that Miss Robinson had met a rich
Argentine in Deauville and had gone off to Paris with him.”
Answer the following questions?
1. Was the author told a story by Laura?
2. Who had a party?
3. Who was invited to the party at the last moment and why was she
invited?
4. Can you describe Miss Robinson?
5. What did Count Borcelli say about Miss Robinson’s string of pearls?
6. Did those present at the party believe him?
7. What did one of the guests say to Miss Robinson about the Count’s
opinion of her string of pearls?
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8. What did Miss Robinson answer?
9. Who came up to Miss Robinson at that moment?
10.Did she tell Mrs. Livingstone that some men wanted to see her?
11.What did the guests think of Miss Robison?
12.What did Mrs. Livingstone say to that?
13.What did Miss Robinson tell the guests about her string of pearls?
14.Was Miss Robinson given a check of three hundred pounds?
15.Where did Miss Robinson go for a holiday?
16.Whom did she meet there?
17.Have you read another story by W.S. Maugham about a pearl
necklace?
18. Did you like the story?
GOLDEN TRUMPETS OF YAP YAP
(by Mike Quin)
The famous explorer, Dr. Ernery Hornsnagle, in his recent book,
“Strange Customs of the People Yap Yap”, makes some interesting
observations on the practice of free speech among the inhabitants of that
little-known island.
Dr. Hornsnagle asked the ruler of this country, Slobob, whether free
expressions of public opinion was rally allowed by the law. “Yes, indeed,”
replied the latter. “The people of our island have absolute freedom of
speech, and we govern according to public opinion.”
“Just how does that work?” asked Dr. Hornsnagle. “By what method
are you able to tell what public opinion thinks about various matters that
come up?”
“That is very simple,” explained the ruler. “Whenever any policy has
to be decided, we assemble the entire population in the large courtyard of
the palace, and inform them of the business at hand. Then I determine the
will of my people by listening to the Golden Trumpets.
“And what are the Golden Trumpets?” asked Hornsnagle.
“ Golden Trumpets,” said the Slobob, “are the only means by which
public opinion may be expressed. I raise my right hand above my head and
call out: “All those in favor, blow.” Instantly, all those who are in favor of
the proposal blow upon golden trumpets. Then I raise my left hand and call
out: “All those opposed, blow.” This time the opposition blows the golden
trumpets. The side making the longest noise is naturally the majority and
the issue is decided in their favor.”
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“That,” said Dr. Hornsnagle, “is to my mind the most complete
democracy one has ever heard of. I would like very much to see these
expressions of public opinion and take some photographs.”
On the next afternoon, Dr. Hornsnagle had this opportunity. The
people of the whole island were assembled in the palace courtyard to decide
an important matter. There were about three thousand people gathered. One
could see that they were the poor of the island as they were quite naked
except for loin-cloths.
Just before the ceremony was about to begin the rich were carried in
on bejeweled litters. These were four richly clothed gentlemen, who were
put down at the very front of the crowd, where they sat on silken pillows
and were fanned with peacock feathers by attendants.
“Who are they?” asked Hornsnagle.
“They,” replied the ruler,” “are the richest men on the island.”
Immediately after the arrival of the rich, the people were informed of the
business at hand. Then the ruler stepped forward and raised his right hand.
“All those in favor, blow,” he shouted.
The four rich citizens all lifted golden trumpets and blew hard.
Then the ruler lifted his left hand. “All those, opposed, blow,” he
shouted Not a shout came from the whole assembly. “It is so decided,”
announced the ruler, and the affair was over.
Later on, Dr. Hornsnagle asked Slobob why the four rich citizens were
the only ones who blew trumpets.
“They are the only ones who can afford to own Golden Trumpets,”
explained the ruler. “The rest are only poor working people.”
“That doesn’t seem very much like free speech to me,” remarked
Hornsnagle. “All it amounts to is that a group of rich men blow their own
horns. It’s in America where we have real expression of public opinion.”
“Is that so?” exclaimed the ruler. “And how do you do it in America?”
“In America,” said Hornsnagle, “instead of having Golden Trumpets,
we have newspapers, magazines, and radio broadcasting stations.”
That is very interesting,” said the ruler. “But who owns these
newspapers, magazines and broadcasting stations?”
“The rich,” replied Hornsnagle.
“Then it is the same as Yap Yap. It is the rich who blow their own
horns and make all the noise,” said the ruler of the island.
Answer the following questions:
1. In what book does Dr. Hornsnagle
make his interesting
observations on the practice of free speech among the inhabitants of that
little-known island?
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2. What did Dr. Hornsnagle ask the ruler of this island?
3. What did the ruler answer?
4. Did Dr. Hornsnagle want to know by what method people of that
island expressed their opinion?
5. How did the ruler explain the way the inhabitants express their
opinion?
6. Did Dr. Hornsnagle want to see the expression of public opinion?
7. Who was gathered in the palace courtyard?
8. Were the people informed of the business at hand?
9. Who blew the Golden Trumpets?
10.Why didn’t the poor people blow the trumpets?
11.Did Dr. Hornsnagle agree with the way they expressed their will?
12.Did the ruler ask Dr. Hornsnagle about the expression of public
opinion in America?
13. What did Dr. Hornsnagle tell the ruler?
14.To what conclusion did the ruler come?
15.Can you retell the story?
HOW I LEARNT TO RIDE A BICYCLE
(by William Somerset Maugham)
I had been for some time filled with envy of the boys whom I saw
riding into the school grounds on their bicycles. It gave a pretty opportunity
for showing off when you entered the gateway without holding on to the
handles. I had persuaded my parents to let me have one at the beginning of
the summer holidays.
I was determined to learn to ride it by myself, and chaps at school had
told me that they had learnt in half an hour. I tried and tried but at the end of
the first morning I seemed no nearer to be able to get on by myself than at
the beginning.
Next day, however, I wheeled the bicycle to a road not far away which I
knew was perfectly flat and straight, and so solitary that no one would see me
making fool of myself. I tried several times to mount but fell off each time. I got
very hot and bothered. After I had been doing this for about an hour, I saw two
people on bicycles coming along the road. I immediately wheeled my machine to
the side and sat down on a stone, looking out to the sea in a way , as though I had
been for a ride and were just sitting there resting. I kept my eyes averted from the
two persons who were advancing toward me, but I felt that they were coming
nearer and through the corner of my eye I saw that they were a man and a woman.
As they passed me the woman swerved to my side of the road and, crashing
against me, fell to the ground.
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“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said. “I knew I should fall off the moment I saw you.”
It was impossible under the circumstances to keep silent, and, blushing
furiously, I said that it didn’t matter at all. The man had got off as she fell.
“You haven’t hurt yourself?” he asked.
“Oh, no.”
“I’m just learning to ride and I fall off whenever I see anything in the
road,” she said to me. I was confused.
“I think bicycling’s lovely, don’t you? It must be wonderful to be able
to ride well.”
“It’s only a matter of practice,” I said.
“This is only my third lesson. My husband says I’m coming on wonderful,
but I feel so stupid! How long did it take you before you could ride?”
I blushed to the roots of my hair.
“ I can’t ride,” I said. “I’ve only just got this bike, and this is the first
time I’ve tried.”
“I’ll give you a lesson if you like,” said the man. “Come on.” He took
the bicycle, and I, unable to withstand his friendly violence, clumsily
mounted. I swayed from side to side, but he held me with a firm hand.
“Faster,” he said.
I pedalled and he ran by me as I wobbled from side to side. We were
both very hot when, notwithstanding his efforts, I at last fell off. When I
started back again and for thirty or forty thrilling yards actually rode by
myself, I felt awfully happy. I got off of my own accord and received
without embarrassment their congratulation on my cleverness in riding a
bicycle the very first day I tried.
“Now I want to see if I can get on by myself,” said the woman. The
man, looking at his watch, said they must be going.
“All right. Shall you be here to-morrow?”, she asked me. “We’re coming.”
“I’ll try to,” I answered.
They rode off and in a few minutes, I followed feeling very much
pleased with myself. I rode all the way to the gates without falling. I think I
boasted a good deal at dinner.
Answer the following questions:
1. Why was he filled with envy?
2. Whom did he persuade to buy a bicycle?
3. Was he determined to learn to ride the bicycle by himself?
4. Could he manage to learn to ride a bicycle the first morning?
5. Where did he wheel his bicycle next day?
6. Whom did he see coming along the road?
7. Did he pretend to be resting?
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8. Did the woman fall to the ground?
9. What did she say?
10.What did he answer?
11.Did the woman think that he could ride the bicycle and what
question did she ask him?
12.What was the answer?
13.Did the man want to give a lesson?
14.Could he learn to ride a bicycle?
15.Did they agree to meet at the same place next day?
16.Did he boast a good deal at dinner?
17.Can you retell the story?
LOST IN THE POST
(A.Philips )
Ainsley, a post-office sorter, turned the envelope over and over in his
hands. The letter was addressed to his wife and had an Australian stamp.
Ainsley knew that the sender was Dicky Soames, his wife’s cousin. It
was the second letter Ainsley received after Dicky’s departure. The first
letter had come six months before, he did not read it and threw it into the
fire. No man ever had less reason for jealousy than Ainsley. His wife was
frank as the day, a splendid housekeeper, a very good mother to their two
children. He knew that Dicky Soames had been fond of Adela and the fact
that Dicky Soames had years back gone away to join his and Adela’s uncle
made no difference to him. He was afraid that some day Dicky would return
and take Adela from him.
Ainsley did not take the letter when he was at work as his fellowworkers could see him do it. So when the working hours were over he went
out of the post-office together with his fellow-workers, then he returned to
take the letter addressed to his wife. As the door of the post-office was
locked, he had to get in through a window. When he was getting out of the
window the postmaster saw him. He got angry and dismissed Ainsley. So
another man was hired and Ainsley became unemployed. Their life became
hard, they had to borrow money from their friends.
Several months had passed. One afternoon when Ainsley came home
he saw the familiar face of Dicky Soames. “So he had turned up,” Ainsley
thought to himself.
Dicky Soames said that he was delighted to see Ainsley. “I have
missed all of you so much,” he added with a friendly smile.
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Ainsley looked at his wife. “Uncle Tom has died,” she explained “and
Dicky has come into his money.” “Congratulation,” said Ainsley , “you are
lucky.”
Adela turned to Dicky. “Tell him the rest,” she said quietly. “Well,
you see ,” said Dicky , “Uncle Tom had something over sixty thousand and
he wished Adela to have half. But he got angry with you because Adela
never answered the two letters I wrote to her for him. Then he changed his
will and left her money to hospitals. I asked him not to do it, but he
wouldn’t listen to me!” Ainsley turned pale. So those two letters were worth
reading after all,” he thought to himself. For some time everybody kept
silence. Then Dicky Soames broke the silence, “It’s strange about those two
letters. I’ve often wondered why you didn’t answer them?” Adela got up,
came up to her husband and said, taking him by the hand. “The letters were
evidently lost.” At that moment Ainsley realized that she knew everything.
Answer the following questions:
1. What was Ainsley?
2. What did he do with the envelope?
3. Whom was the letter addressed?
4. Who was Dicky Soames?
5. When had the first letter come?
6. What did Ainsley do with the first letter?
7. Did the second letter come?
8. Was Ainsley jealous?
9. Why was Ainsley jealous?
10.Why didn’t Ainsley take the second letter with him?
11.What did he do after working hours were over?
12.Why did he return?
13.Who saw him?
14.What did he do?
15.Whom did Ainsley see when he came home?
16.What did Dicky Soames tell them about Adela’s uncle?
17.Did uncle Tom want Adela come into his money?
18.Why did he change his mind?
19.What did Ainsley think about those letters?
20.What did Adela say about those letters?
21.What did Ainsley realize?
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THE POSTMAN
(From Mozaika)
We did not like our postman, Mr. Evans, very much. Even my mother
had something to say about him. “He’s the only postman I’ve ever known,”
she said, “who does not say good morning or good afternoon to you.”
But he spoke to us – Bill, Tom and me. He lived on the corner at the
end of our street, and he was always shouting at us, telling us not to lean
against his fence.
One afternoon Bill told us that he had seen Evans kick his dog, Rusty,
while he was delivering letters. We decided it was time to do something
about him. “Let’s make a slide for him,” I said.
It had snowed the previous day, so we could make a slide by stamping
at the snow till it was hard. When we had finished, it was like a sheet of
glass and it was just outside Evans’ house. We leant against his fence, and
waited for him to come round on the afternoon delivery. As soon as he
turned the corner, he saw us, and started hurrying towards us.
“Hey, you,” he shouted, “get off my fence!”
He reached the slide still waving his arms and shouting. Then his feet
shot up, and he lay on his back on the pavement, his bag with letters falling
on top of him. “Oh!” he said, getting up slowly, “I’ve broken my arm.” We
took him to the doctor’s house, round the corner. Bill carried his post bag
and I knocked on the doctor’s door for him. Then we waited for him hoping
his arm was not really broken. When he came out at last, his arm was
bandaged, and in a sling round his neck.
“I won’t be able to do my work,” he said. “I’ll lose my job. They’ll
get someone else to do the post.”
Bill and Tom and I looked at each other. It was our fault. “We’ll help
you, Mr. Evans,” I said.
At first it was quite exciting – helping our postman. We got up at six
in the morning , and met Evans at the first corner of his round. We carried
his post bag, and knocked on the doors, and helped him finish the delivery
before we ran off to school. Then in the afternoon we met him again, to help
with the second round. But after a few days getting up at six did not seem
such a good idea. It was our fault that his arm was broken, and we had
discovered that, after all, he wasn’t such a bad old man. But six o’clock is
very early.
One day Tom stopped coming. It was raining that morning, and when
we saw him at school, he said something about his mother not being well.
Bill and I could have found some excuse too, to stop helping. But at the end
of that week Evans gave us ten shillings each. “If you are working,” he said
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, “you have to get paid.” After that all of us wanted to work with Mr. Evans.
But even so Evans’ arm seemed to be taking a very long time to get better.
“It’s a little better,” he used to say when we asked, “but the doctor
says I mustn’t use it yet.”
It was weeks later, in April, that we met the doctor. We were just
delivering his letters when he opened the front door and came out. He
looked at us in surprise. “Hullo,” he said. Then he saw Evans’ arm. “What’s
this?” he said hitting the bad arm. “What are the bandages for? I told you to
do as much work with this arm as possible!”
He walked off talking to himself. We looked at Evans.
“All right,” said Evans. “You are not angry, are you? It’s just that a
postman’s job is a very lonely one. It’s nicer to have someone to talk to.”
Answer the following questions:
1. Why didn’t children like Mr. Evans?
2. What did Bill tell them about Mr. Evans?
3. What did they decide to do?
4. Where were the boys standing?
5. Did Mr. Evans fall down?
6. What did he say when he was getting up?
7. Where did the boys take him?
8. What did Mr. Evans say when he came out?
9. Did the boys understand that it was their fault?
10.What did the boys say to Mr. Evans?
11.When did they get up to help the postman?
12.Did they also help to deliver letters after school?
13.Who stopped coming?
14.What did Mr. Evans give the boys at the end of the week?
15.What did the doctor say when they met him?
16.Was it nicer for the postman to work with somebody else?
TO KILL A MAN
(By Jack London)
She moved through the big rooms and wide halls of her house. She
was looking for a book of poems she had put somewhere and only now
remembered. She opened the door of the dining-room and went in. The
room was dark and she turned on the lights. As the light came on, she
stepped back and cried out.
In front of her, near her wall, stood a man. In his hand was a gun.
“Oh,” she said. “What do you want?”
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“I think I want to get out. I’ve lost my way here,” he answered
ironically.
“What are you doing here?”
“Just robbing, Miss, that’s all. I didn’t expect to find you in, as I saw
you with your old man in an auto. You are Miss Setliffe, aren’t you?”
Mrs. Setliffe saw his mistake, but she was pleased.
“Now please show me the way out,” the man said.
“And what if I cry out for help?” asked the woman.
“I must kill you then,” he answered slowly. “You see, Miss, I can’t go to
prison. A friend of mine is waiting for me outside, and I promised to help him.”
“I’ve never met a robber before,” the woman said, “and I can’t tell you
how exiting it is. Won’t you stay a few minutes and talk? I want you to
explain the whole thing to me. You don’t look like a robber at all. Why
don’t you work?”
“I did my best, but there’s no work for me in this city,” he said
bitterly. “I used to be an honest man before I started looking for a job. And
now I must go.”
But Mrs. Setliffe did not want to lose her robber. Such things did not
happen often in her life.
Turning to the man she said: “I can’t really make you stay, but, come,
sit down, and tell me all about it – here at the table.”
She took her seat at the table and placed him on the other side of it.
She saw him look about the room, then put the gun on the corner of
the table between them. But he was in a strange house and did not know that
under the table , near her foot, was an electric bell.
“It’s like this, Miss,” he began. “I’m not a robber and I didn’t come here to
steal. You see, I had a little mine once, and old Setliffe took it away from me. I
had nothing left. And as my friend needs money badly I just came to take
something back from your father. I am really taking what is mine.”
“I feel you’re right,” she said. “But still robbery is robbery.”
“I know that,” he answered. “What is right is not always legal. That’s
why I must go.”
“No, wait.” The woman suddenly took up the gun. At the same time
she pushed the bell with her foot.
A door opened behind him, and the man heard somebody enter the
room. But he did not even turn his head. Without saying a word, he was
looking at the woman, into her hard cold eyes.
“Thomas,” she said, “call the police.”
The servant left the room. The man and the woman sat at the table,
looking into each other’s eyes. She enjoyed this moment. She already saw
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the newspapers with the story of the beautiful young Mrs. Setliffe who had
caught a dangerous robber in her own house.
“When you are in prison,” she said coldly, “think of the lesson I’ve
taught you. Now tell the truth. I didn’t believe a single word of your story.
You lied to me.”
He did not answer.
“Say something,” she cried. “Why don’t you ask me to let you go?”
“Yes, I’ll say something. You looked so kind and soft and all the time
you had your foot on the bell. Do you know what I am going to do? I am
going to get up from this chair and walk out of the door. But you are not
going to shoot. It isn’t easy to kill man and I’m sure you can’t do it.”
With his eyes on her he stood up slowly. She began to pull the trigger.
“Pull harder,” he advised. “Pull it and kill a man.”
At the door the man turned round. He spoke to her in a low voice as
he called her a bad name.
Answer the following questions?
1. What was she looking for?
2. Whom did she see in the room?
3. What question did she ask him?
4. What did he answer?
5. What kind of conversation took place between the woman and the man?
6. Did she press the button under the table?
7. Did she take his gun?
8. Did the servant come?
9. What did she command him to do?
10.Did she believe his story?
11.What did he say to the woman?
12.Did he leave the room?
13.Why didn’t she shoot?
THE FLIGHT FROM THE ENCHANTER
(By Iris Murdoch)
It was about three o’clock on a Friday afternoon when Annette
decided to leave school. An Italian lesson was in progress. In an affected
high-pitched voice the Italian tutor was reading aloud from the twelfth canto
of the Inferno. She had just reached the passage about the Minotaur.
Annette disliked the Inferno. It seemed to her a cruel and unpleasant book.
She particularly disliked the passage about the Minotaur. Why should the
poor Minotaur be suffering in hell? It was not Minotaur’s fault that it had
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been born a monster. It was God’s fault. The Minotaur bounded to and fro
in pain and frustration, Dante was saying, like a bull that has received the
death blow. Partite, bestia! Said the mincing voice of the Italian tutor. She
was an Englishwoman who had a course on Italian civilization in Florence
when she was young. Virgil was speaking contemptuously to the Minotaur.
Annette decided to go. I am learning nothing here, she thought. From now
on I shall enter the School of Life. She packed her books up neatly and rose.
She crossed the room, bowing gravely to the Italian tutor, who had
interrupted her reading and was looking at Annette with disapproval.
Annette left the room, closing the door quietly behind her. When she found
herself outside in the heavily carpeted corridor, she began to laugh. It was
all so absurdly simple, she could not imagine why she had not thought of it
long ago. She crossed the corridor with a skip and a jump, making a tasteful
vase of flowers rock upon the pedestal, and went down the steps to the
cloakroom three at a time.
Answer the following questions:
1. When did Annette decide to leave school?
2. What lesson was in progress?
3. What book was the teacher reading?
4. What passage of the book had she reached?
5. Did Annette like Inferno?
6. What passage did she not like particularly?
7. Why did she not like this passage?
8. What kind of woman was her Italian tutor?
9. What did Annette decide to do?
10. How did the Italian tutor look at Annette when she crossed the room?
11.What did she do when she found herself outside in the corridor?
12.Was it easy for Annette to leave school?
13.What do you think of the girl?
ART FOR HEART’S SAKE
(After Rube Goldberg)
(Abridged)
“Here is your pineapple juice, gently persuaded Koppel.
“Nope!” grunted Collis P. Ellsworth.
Koppel heard the front door bell and was glad to leave the room. He
found doctor Caswell in the hall downstairs. "I can't do a thing with him,”
he told the doctor. “He won’t take his pineapple juice.
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Doctor Caswell received the information with his usual professional
calm. This was no ordinary case. The old gentleman was in pretty good
shape for a man of seventy six. But he had to be kept from buying things.
He had suffered his last heart attack after his disastrous purchase of that
jerkwater railroad out in Iova. All of his purchases of recent years had to be
liquidated at a great sacrifice both to his health and his pocketbook.
Collis P. Ellsworth sat in a huge chair by the window. He looked
around as Doctor Caswell inquired, “Well, how’s the young man to day?”
“Umph!” grunted the figure in the chair in a tone like a rasping cough
with all the implications of a sneer.
The doctor drew up a chair and sat down close to the old man. “I’ve
got a proposition for you,” he said quietly.
“How’d you like to take up art?”
But the old gentleman’s answer was a vigorous “Rot!”
“I don’t mean seriously,” said the doctor, “Just fool around with chalk
and crayons. It’ll be fun.”
But, Caswell, how do I start playing with the chalk - that is, if I’m
foolish enough to start?”
“I’ve thought of that, too. I can get a student from one of the art
schools to come here once a week and show you.”
Doctor Caswell went to his friend, Judson, Livingston, head of the
Atlantic Art Institute, and explained the situation. Livingston had just the
young man – Frank Swain, eighteen years old a promising student. How
much would he get? Five dollars a visit. Fine.
Next afternoon young Swain was shown into the big living room.
Collis P. Ellsworth looked at him appraisingly.
Swain arranged some paper and crayons on the table.
“Let’s try and draw that vase over there on the mantelpiece,” he
suggested.
The old man took a piece of crayon in a shaky hand and made a
scrawl. He made another scrawl and connected the two with a couple of
crude lines. “There it is, young man,” he snapped with satisfaction. Frank
Swain was patient. He needed the five dollars.
When the art student came the following week there was a drawing on
the table that had a slight resemblance to the vase. The old gentleman asked
selfishly , “Well, what do you think of it?”
“Not bad, sir,” answered Swain.
“Listen, young man,” he whispered, “I want to ask you something
before old ‘pineapple juice’ comes back.”
“Yes, sir,” responded Swain respectfully.
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“I was thinking could you spare the time to come twice a week or
perhaps three times?”
“Sure, Mister Ellsworth.”
When Doctor Caswell called Ellsworth he would dwell on the rich
variety of color in a bowl of fruit. He wanted to show the doctor how hard
he’d been working.
The treatment was working perfectly.
The doctor thought it safe to allow Ellsworth to visit Metropolitan, the
Museum of Modern Art and other exhibits with Swain. An entirely new world
opened up its charming mysteries. The old man displayed an insatiable curiosity
about the galleries and the painters who exhibited in them.
Ellsworth executed a god-awful smudge which he called “Trees
Dressed in White”. Then he made a startling announcement. He was going
to exhibit it in the Summer show at the Lathrop Gallery!
“If the papers get hold of this, Mister Ellsworth will become a
laughing-stock. We’ve got to stop him,” groaned Koppel.
“No,” admonished the doctor. “We can’t interfere with him now and
take a chance of spoiling all the good work that we’ve accomplished.”
To the utter astonishment of all three – and especially Swain – “Trees
Dressed in White” was accepted for the Lathrop show.
Two days before the close of the exhibition a special messenger
brought a long official-looking envelope to Mister Ellsworth while Swain,
Koppel and the doctor were in the room. “Read it to me,” requested the old
man. “My eyes are tired from painting.”
It gives the Lathrop Gallery pleasure to announce that the First
Landscape Prize of $1000 has been awarded to Collis P. Ellsworth for his
painting , “Trees Dressed in White.”
Swain and Koppel uttered a series of inarticulate gurgles. Doctor
Caswell, exercising his professional self-control with a supreme effort, said
“Congratulations, Mister Ellsworth. Fine, fine… See, see… Of course I
didn’t expect such great news. But, but – well, now, you’ll have to admit
that art is much more satisfying than business.”
Art’s nothing,” snapped the old man. “I bought the Lathrop Gallery
last month.”
Answer the following questions:
1. What did Koppel tell the doctor?
2. What had he suffered ?
3. What did the doctor propose him to do?
4. Where did the doctor go?
5. Who came to see Mr. Collis P. Ellsworth?
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6. What did Swain ask him to draw?
7. What did Swain see when he came the following week?
8. What did Mr. Collis P. Ellsworth ask Swain about?
9. What did Doctor Caswell recommend?
10. What picture did Mr. Collis P. Ellsworth present the Lathrop Gallery?
11.What was the opinion of Swain and others concerning Mr. Collis
P.Ellsworth’s picture?
12.What kind of letter did Mr. Collis P. Ellsworth receive?
13.Was everybody surprised?
14.What did Mr. Collis P. Ellsworth say about art?
15.Did you expect such an end of the story?
RUNNING FOR GOVERNOR
(After Mark Twain)
A few months ago I was nominated for Governor of the great State of New
York, to run against Mr. John T. Smith and Mr. Blank on an independent ticket. I
felt that I had an advantage over these gentlemen, and was – good character. It
was easy to see by the newspapers that if ever they had known what it was to have
a good name, that time was gone. It was evident that in the last years they had
become familiar with all kinds of shameful crimes. What discomforted me was
having to hear my name mentioned in connection with those of most disreputable
people. Finally, I wrote my grandmother about it. Her answer came quick and
sharp. She said, “You have never done one single thing in all your life to be
ashamed of – not one. Look at the newspapers – look at them and you will
comprehend what sort of characters Messrs. Smith and Blank are, and then see if
you are willing to lower yourself to their level and enter a political campaign with
them.”
It was my very thought! I did not sleep a single moment that night.
But after all what can I do? I was fully committed and must go on with the
fight. As I was looking over the papers at breakfast this paragraph attracted
my attention and I may truly say I never was so surprised before.
“ PERJURY – Perhaps now that Mr. Twain is before the people as a
candidate for Governor, he will explain how he was charged with perjury in
Wakawak, Cochin-China in 1863, when he attempted to rob a poor woman
and her family of their land which was their only support after the death of
her husband. Mr. Twain owes it to himself as well as to the great people
whose suffrage he asks, to clear this matter up. Will he do it?”
I was never so amazed, because I never had seen Cochin-China! I
never had heard of Wakawak! I did not know what to do, I let the day go by
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without doing anything. The next morning the same paper had this –
nothing more:
“IMPORTANT – Mr. Twain, it will be noticed, has said nothing
about the Cochin-China perjury.”
Next came the Gazette with this:
“WANTED TO KNOW – Will the candidate for Governor explain to
certain of his fellow citizens (who are suffering to vote for him) the fact that
his cabin-mates in Montana after losing things from time to time and always
finding them on Mr. Twain’s person or among his belongings, at last made
him leave the camp and advised him never to return? Will he do this?”
But I was never in Montana in my life!
The next newspaper article that attracted my attention was the
following:
“A SWEET CANDIDATE –Mr. Twain, who was to make a speech at
the mass meeting of the Independents last night, didn’t come. A telegram
came from his doctor stating that he had been injured in an accident and had
to stay in bed. The Independents tried to pretend they did not know what
was the real reason of his absence. A certain man was seen to enter Twain’s
hotel in a state of beastly intoxication. It is the duty of the Independents to
prove that this man was not Mark Twain himself. The voice of the people
demands: “Who was that man?”
It was incredible, absolutely incredible, that it was really my name
that was connected with this shameful suspicion. Three long years had
passed over my head since I had tasted whisky, wine or beer!
By this time the leaders of my party insisted that I answer all the
charges as it would be political ruin for me to remain silent any longer.
Besides, the following appeared in one of the papers the very next day:
“BEHOLD THE MAN! – The independent candidate still maintains
silence. Look upon your candidate, Independents!”
There was no possible way of getting out of it and I set about preparing to
answer all these charges. But I never finished the task. For the very next morning
a paper charged me with new even more shameful crimes. And , at last, as a
climax, nine little children of different color were taught to rush to the platform
meeting and clasp me around the legs and call me Pa!
I gave it up. I surrendered. I was not equal to the requirements of a
Gubernatorial campaign in the State of new York and so I sent in my
withdrawal from the candidacy.
Answer the following questions:
1. Who was nominated for Governor of the great State of New York ?
2. Did he feel that he had an advantage over other candidates?
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3. What did discomfort him?
4. Whom did he write a letter?
5. What was the answer to his letter?
6. What did he see looking over the papers?
7. Was he amazed ?
8. What did he find the next morning in the same paper?
9. What was written in the next Gazette?
10.What article attracted his attention?
11.Did another article appear about him?
12.Did he want to answer all the charges?
13.Why did he surrender and send his withdrawal from the
candidacy?
THE MISSING NECKLACE
(George Short, “BBC English)
A camera and a computer have revealed traces of something which
perhaps millions of pairs of eyes have failed to see in the last 480 years: The
Mona Lisa’s lost necklace.
A discovery about a famous painting has been made, not by an art
historian, or a picture restorer, but an American physicist using techniques
developed for space photography.
Mona Lisa (also known as La Giaconda), painted the Italian, Leonardo
da Vinci, hangs in the Louvre art gallery in Paris. A special photograph was
made of the painting. The photograph was scanned and converted into
digital form ready for processing by a computer at the Jet Propulsion
Laboratory in Pasadena, California. There, technicians revealed a row of
white spots on the neck, probably the remains of a pearl necklace which the
artist later painted over.
Now the Louvre plans to examine the painting further using infra-red
scanning techniques. Laser technology can be used to show what lies
beneath the surface of the finished work too. This will help us to understand
methods used by artists. Did the artist begin with a rough sketch, for
example? Did he make a detailed drawing and paint over that? Did he have
second thoughts as he painted the picture? This kind of knowledge will
show us the creative person at work. It may also help to explain Mona
Lisa’s enigmatic smile, which has puzzled art lovers for centuries.
Answer the following questions:
1. What had a camera and a computer revealed?
2. By whom was a discovery made?
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3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
Where does the picture of Leonardo da Vinci Mona Lisa hang?
What was made with a photograph?
What did the technicians reveal?
Will the Louvre examine the painting?
Laser technology is used to show what lies beneath the surface, isn’t it?
Will it also show us the creative person at work?
May it help to explain Mona Lisa’s enigmatic smile?
TACT
(By B. Sexelby)
Once upon a time there was a very rich old man. He was also a very
miserly old man.
And, as is often the way with the rich, very miserly old men, he had a
number of poor but expectant relations who would not let him alone.
At Christmas time especially they thronged about him and showered
presents upon him in the hope of one day receiving a recompense for their
generosity. They brought him gifts suited to his declining years, such as a
pillow-rest for his rheumatic back and a footstool for his gouty foot, and a
handbell to summon assistance in case of a sudden attack, and a book of
devout reflections to turn his thoughts from worldly matters and a fountain
in case his thoughts should revert to worldly matters and he might suddenly
desire to make a will in their favour.
But strange to say these gifts only incensed the very rich, miserly old
man and added to the dislike he already felt for his poor but expectant
relations.
On Christmas Eve a certain graceless nephew returned from a sojourn
abroad and, having nowhere to spend his holiday, thought he might as well
look up the old man. He forgot all about the family custom of making
presents until he was in the train, when it was too late to make a purchase.
Nothing daunted, however, he examined his correspondence, which in his
haste he had brought with him to read on his journey. Being a popular
young man, there were small remembrances from many friends, and among
them he presently discovered something that he thought would do. On his
arrival he found the usual crowd engaged in presenting the usual gifts to an
unwilling recipient.
“Uncle”, the young man said cheerfully, “you look years younger than
when I saw you last. I have here a small remembrance which is of no value,
but which will, I hope, be of use to you.”
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His uncle took the parcel. Upon opening it, however, his face cleared,
and he embraced his graceless nephew so cordially that the other poor but
expectant relations faded from the scene in amazement and chagrin.
The gift was a calendar for the next ten years.
You will be prepared to hear that the very rich old man made a new
will, leaving his entire fortune to his graceless but tactful nephew.
And so he did. But you must remember that he was a miserly old man
and therefore had an abhorrence of waste. So, lest the calendar should be
wasted, he took special pains to live the whole ten years longer, and before
that length if time had elapsed the graceless nephew had himself
unfortunately died of dissipation.
Answer the following questions:
1. Who lived once upon a time?
2. Whom did the old man have?
3. What did they bring at Christmas time?
4. What kind of gifts did they bring?
5. Did the old man like his poor relatives?
6. Who came to visit the old man on Christmas Eve?
7. What kind of present did he give the old man?
8. Did the old man like his present?
9. Did the old man leave his entire fortune to his nephew in his will?
10.How long did the old man live after he wrote his will?
11.Did his nephew die of dissipation?
THREE AT TABLE
(After W.W. Jocobs)
(A young man went to the country to stay with an uncle. When he got
down to the place he found that his uncle was in France. He decided to stay
at an inn and await his return. Next day he started for a walk through the
country. But he lost his way in fog, got cold and tired and knocked upon the
door of a dark house. The door opened and an old servant-woman and then
an old man appeared at the door. The man asked him to come in and said
that dinner would soon be ready).
“There will be three of us at dinner,” the old man said. We two and
my son. I suppose you don’t mind dining in the dark.”
“Not at all,” I answered, hiding my surprise as well as I could.
“It’s seldom we have company,” he said, “and now we’ve got you
we’ll keep you. My son’s eyes are bad and he can’t stand the light.”
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When the table was set the servant-woman brought in a dish and
placing three chairs, left the room. The old man placed a large screen in
front of the fire and slowly extinguished the candles.
“Blind man’s holiday,” he said, and groping his way to the door
opened it.
Somebody came back into the room with him, and in a slow uncertain
manner took a seat at the table.
“A cold night,” the strangest voice I have ever heard said slowly.
I answered in the affirmative and, light or no light, started eating with
appetite.
We ate in silence until the old woman came into the room with some
sweets and put them with a crash upon the table.
“Are you a stranger about here?” asked the strange voice again.
“Yes,” I answered and said something about my luck in stumbling upon
such a good dinner.
“Stumbling is a very good word for it,” said the voice grimly. “You
have forgotten the port, father.”
“So I have,” said the old man, rising, “I will get it myself.” He left me
alone with my unseen neighbour. My host seemed to be absent for a long
time. I heard the man opposite lay down his fork and spoon, and it almost
seemed to me that I saw a pair of wild eyes shining through the gloom like
cat’s. I pushed my chair back, the screen fell over with a crash, and in the
light of the fire I saw the face of the creature opposite.
I left my chair and stood with clenched fists beside it. For a few
moments we looked at each other in silence; then the door opened and the
old man returned. He stood aghast as he saw the warm firelight, and then
approaching the table, mechanically put down a couple of bottles. “I beg
your pardon,” said I , “but I have accidentally overturned the screen. Allow
me to replace it.”
“No,” said the old man gently, “let it be. We have had enough in the dark.”
He struck a match and slowly lit the candles.
Then I saw that man opposite had the remnant of a face, with one eye.
I was greatly moved.
“My son was injured some years ago in a burning house,” said the old man.
“I thought,” said his son simply, “that it would be better for me not to
come to the dinner-table. But it happened to be my birthday and my father
did not want me to dine alone, so we took this foolish plan of dining in the
dark. I am sorry I startled you.” “I am sorry,” said I, as I reached across the
table and took him by the hand, “that I am such a fool, but it was only in the
dark that you startled me.”
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“We never see a friend,” said the old man , “and the temptation to
have company was too much for us. Now we know each other , draw your
chair to the fire and let’s keep this birthday in a proper fashion.”
He drew a small table to the fire for the glasses, brought a box of
cigars, asked the old servant to sit down by the fire and drink.
The night wore on so rapidly that we could hardly believe our ears
when a clock in the hall struck twelve.
“A last toast before we go to bed,” said the host. There was
something impressive in the old man’s manner as he rose and took up his
glass. His voice rang as he looked proudly at his disfigured son.
“The health of the children whom my boy saved!” he said and
drained his glass.
Answer the following questions:
1. Where did the young man go?
2. Was his uncle at home?
3. What did the young man decide to do?
4. Did he lose his way in fog?
5. Did he come to a dark house?
6. What did the old man say?
7. What did the young man answer?
8. What day was it?
9. Did the voice of the blind man seem strange?
10.Did they eat their dinner in silence?
11.Did the old man go away?
12.Did it seem that he was absent for a long time ?
13.How did it happen that the screen fell over with a crash?
14.Did the young man see the face of the blind man?
15.What did the young man say?
16.Did the old man come back?
17.What did the old man tell about his son?
18.Was the old man proud of his son?
19.What was the old man’s last toast?
THE GREAT GATSBY
(By F. Scott Fitzgerald) (an extract)
She (Daisy) turned her head as there was a light dignified knocking at
the door. I went out and opened it. Gatsby, pale as death, with his hands
plunged like weights in his coat pockets, was standing in a puddle of water
glaring tragically into my eyes.
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With his hands still in his pockets he stalked by me into the hall,
turned sharply as if he were on a wire, and disappeared into the livingroom. It wasn’t a bit funny. Aware of the loud beating of my own heart I
pulled the door to against the increasing rain.
For half a minute there wasn’t a sound. Then from the living-room I
heard a sort of choking murmur and part of a laugh, followed by Daisy’s
voice on a clear artificial note:
“I certainly am awfully glad to see you again.”
A pause; it endured horribly. I had nothing to do in the hall, so I went
into the room.
Gatsby, his hands still in his pockets, was reclining against the
mantelpiece in a strained counterfeit of perfect ease, even of boredom. His
head leaned back so far that it rested against the face of a defunct
mantelpiece clock, and from this position his distraught eyes stared down at
Daisy, who was sitting, frightened but graceful, on the edge of a stiff chair.
“We’ve met before,” muttered Gatsby. His eyes glanced momentarily
at me, and his lips parted with an abortive attempt at a laugh. Luckily the
clock took this moment to tilt dangerously at the pressure of his head,
whereupon he turned and caught it with trembling fingers, and set it back in
place. (…)
“We haven’t met for many years,” said Daisy, her voice as matter-offact as it could be.
“Five years next November.”
The automatic quality of Gatsby’s answer set us all back at least
another minute. I had them both on their feet with the desperate suggestion
that they help me make tea in the kitchen when the demoniac Finn brought
it in on a tray.
Amid the welcome confusion of cups and cakes a certain physical
decency established itself. Gatsby got himself into a shadow and, while
Daisy and I talked, looked conscientiously from one to the other of us with
tense, unhappy eyes. However, as calmness wasn’t an end in itself, I made
an excuse at the first possible moment, and got to my feet.
“Where are you going?” demanded Gatsby in immediate alarm.
“I’ll be back.”
“I’ve got to speak to you about something before you go.”
He followed me wildly into the kitchen, closed the door, and
whispered: “Oh, God!” in a miserable way.
“What’s the matter?”
“This is a terrible mistake,” he said, shaking his head from side to
side, “a terrible, terrible mistake.”
“You are just embarrassed, that’s all,” and luckily I added: “Daisy’s
embarrassed too.”
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“She embarrassed?” he repeated incredulously.
“Just as much as you are.”
“Don’t talk so loud.”
“You are acting like a little boy,” I broke out impatiently. “Not only
that, but you’re rude. Daisy’s sitting in there all alone.”
He raised his hand to stop my words, looked at me with unforgettable
reproach, and, opening the door cautiously, went back in to the other room.
Answer the following questions:
1. What did Daisy do when she heard a knocking at the door?
2. Who came in?
3. What did the servant hear?
4. What did Gatsby say?
5. Did Gatsby follow the servant ?
6. Was Gatsby embarrassed?
7. Did he go back to the room where Daisy was?
8. Can you retell the passage?
151
S. Akhmetova
Literature used:
Iris Murdoch. The Flight from the Enchanter. New York, The Viking
press, 1966.
English Reader. Bernstein S.I., Davidova Z.K., Lieberman B.I.,
Mariupolskaya-Panter B.L., Sheinker L.Z., Moscow, 1960.
Written Practice V. Burlakova, Leningrad, 1962.
Modern Reading. S.V. Shevtsova Moscow, 1972.
The Dictionary of Biographical Quotation of British and American
Subjects, L., 1978.
Skriftlig Engelsk. Al. H.H. Hansen, K. Wiskum Sǿrensen, Douglas
Frődin, H.B. Ward,
Aschehoug Dansk Forlag, Kǿbenhavn, 1967.
Colleen McCullough, The Thorn Birds, New York, 1978.
Muriel Spark, The Very Fine Clock in: The Public Image. Progress
Publishers, Moscow, 1976.
Mozaika, 1988, 3.
R.A. Divine, T.H. Breen, G.H. Fredrickson, R.H. Williams, America
Past and Present, Scott, Foresmun and Company, 1987.
Jerome. K. Jerome, Three Men in a Boat (to say nothing of the dog),
Moscow, Higher school, 1976.
William Saroyan, Selected Short Stories, Moscow, 1975.
William Somerset Maugham, Collected Short Stories, London, 1979.
Suniti Namjoshi, Feminist Stories , London, 1994.
F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby,
Учебник английского языка. Для II курса институтов и
факультетов иностр. яз.С.В. Шевцова, М.А. Брандукова, И.С.
Кузьмина, Л.В. Парканская. М., «Высшая школа», 1975.
Пособие по письменной практике (на английском языке) С.Б.
Берлизон, Е.И. Чапник, Е.М. Алексеева, Э.Ю. Мизрахи. Л.,
«Просвещение», 1976.
Игнатьева Т.Н. Английский язык Интенсивный курс. М., 1988.
Дудкина Г.А., Павлова М.В., Рей З.Г., Хвальнова А.Т. Учебник
английского языка для делового общения, 2, Москва, «Аверс», 1991.
Английский язык. С.Г. Тер-Минасова, В.И. Фатющенко,
Издательство Московского университета, 1981.
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Оглавление
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Название
Введение ……………………………………………………
Henry Hudson ……………………………………………….
George Washington …………………………………………
Isaac Newton ………………………………………………..
Walter Raleigh ………………………………………………
Jonathan Swift ………………………………………………
The Indian and the Spaniard ………………………………..
The Indian and Two Travelers ……………………………...
The Boys and the Burglar …………………………………..
Starfish (From Reader’s Dugest) ……………………………
The Story of a Carpenter (William Saroyan) ………………..
Dear Greta Garbo (By William Saroyan) …………………..
The Lost Gold Piece ………………………………………..
The Faraway Night (After William Saroyan) ……………….
The Little Prince …………………………………………….
The Fox and the Stork (By Suniti Namjoshi) ……………….
The Dower (By Suniti Namjoshi) …………………………..
A Fish Story …………………………………………………
The Bee ……………………………………………………...
A Dilemma ………………………………………………….
A Candid Letter of a Medical Student to his Uncle ………...
In the Nick of Time …………………………………………
The Blind Men and the Elephant …………………………...
Daily Bread (After O’Henry) ……………………………….
Jimmy Valentine’s Reformation (After O’Henry) ………….
A Cent Cut into two Pieces …………………………………
The Telegram ………………………………………………..
A Cake of Soap ……………………………………………...
On the Train …………………………………………………
A Funny Situation …………………………………………...
An Absent-minded Man …………………………………….
The Colonel and the Devil ………………………………….
Why Don’t You Say You Don’t Know when You are Asked
Something You Don’t Know ………………………………..
Three Camels ………………………………………………..
The Legend of Sunflower (An Indian Legend) ……………..
Alfred (King of England) …………………………………...
Going Home (After Michael Gold) …………………………
Стр.
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“Sorry, My Fault” (By George Mikes) (Abridged) …………
Treasures Rescued from Destruction (By James Dudley) …..
Jews Without Money (By Michael Gold) ( An extract) …….
Mr. Sellyer is Selling Books (After Stephen Leacock) ……..
A Lecture on Walking (By Stephen Leacock) ………………
The Conjurer’s Revenge (By Stephen Leacock) ……………
Brown Wolf (After J. London) ……………………………..
At Dover (After Nigel Balchin) …………………………….
Silver Blaze (After Conan Doyle) …………………………..
Crabess’s Practice …………………………………………..
Old Country Advice to the American Traveller
(By W. Saroyan) ……………………………………………
At the Hotel (After A. Hailey) (“Hotel”) ……………………
Sad Story (After George Sheffield) …………………………
The Moonlight Sonata ………………………………………
Letters in the Mail (By Erskine Caldwell) (Abridged) ……
A Canary for One (After E. Hemingway) (Abridged) ………
On Honeymoon ……………………………………………...
Yehudi Menuhin and the Rich Man ………………………...
The Highlander’s Watch ……………………………………
Salmon Fishing in Scotland …………………………………
The Clergyman and the Sleepy Church-Goer ……………….
Calvin Coolidge and his Guests ……………………………..
Peter Freuchen and the Wolves ……………………………..
The Duke of Wellington and the French Marshals ………….
General Director of the Danish State Railways ……………..
Oysters for a Horse ………………………………………….
Profitable Juggling …………………………………………..
A Hotel ……………………………………………………...
Three Dollars ……………………………………………….
The Danger of Lying in Bed ………………………………..
Thomas Gainsborough Buys a Lute ………………………..
Honest Abe (After J. Doty and J. Ross) ……………………
Chinese Vase (From Mozaika No. 1) ………………………
Too much of a Good Thing (After Ring Lardner) …………
Truth is Always Stranger than Fiction (George Gordon
Byron) ……………………………………………………….
A Joke ……………………………………………………….
The Intelligent Young Man (By William Saroyan) ………...
Bugging Showrooms (After “Bugging Showrooms” by Art
Buchwald) …………………………………………………..
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Curious Profession (After “Seeing People Off” by Max
Beerbohm) ………………………………………………….
Riding the Tandem (After Jerome K. Jerome) ……………...
Luggage Question (After Jerome K. Jerome) ………………
On the Weather (After Jerome K. Jerome) ………………….
The Trick (After W. S. Maugham) (“Gigolo and Gigolette) ..
Home (After W. S. Maugham) ……………………………...
The Ant and the Grasshopper (After W. S. Maugham)
(Abridged) …………………………………………………..
Identification Document …………………………………….
A Pizza Deliverer …………………………………………..
Overhauling a Bicycle (By Jerome K. Jerome) ……………..
Success Story (After James Gold Cozzens)………………...
The Cook (After J. M. Ward) ……………………………….
Too Well (After O’Henry) ………………………………….
A Job in Mexico …………………………………………….
A Transaction (After “Parson’s Pleasure” by R. Dahl) …….
A Legend (From “The Thorn Birds” by Colleen
McCullough) ………………………………………………...
A Shopwindow (From Mozaika) ……………………………
A Fable by Easop ……………………………………………
The Very Fine Clock (After Muriel Spark) ………………..
Maldonada and the Puma …………………………………...
The Farmer and the Boy (After Jerome K. Jerome) ………..
A Good lesson (After Jerome K. Jerome) ………………….
An Absent-minded Man (After Jerome k. Jerome) ………...
Uncle Podger at Work (After Jerome K. Jerome) …………
A Discovery …………………………………………………
A Miserly Man ………………………………………………
Billiards (After Mark Twain) ………………………………
Honoured as a Curiosity in Honolulu (After Mark Twain)...
The Last Leaf (After O’Henry) ……………………………
The Dinner Party (After N. Monsarrat) …………………….
A Friend in Need (By W. S. Maugham) …………………….
The Lunchon (After W. S. Maugham) ……………………..
A String of Beads (By W. S. Maugham) (Abridged) ………
Golden Trumpets of Yap Yap (By Mike Quin) …………….
How I Learnt to Ride a Bicycle (By W. S. Maugham) ……..
Lost in the Post (A. Philips) ………………………………..
The Postman (From Mozaika) ………………………………
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To Kill a Man (By Jack London) ……………………………
The Flight from the Enchanter (By Iris Murdoch) ………….
Art for Heart’s Sake (After Rube Goldberg) (Abridged) ….
Running for Governor ( After Mark Twain) ……………….
The Missing Necklace (George Short, “BBC English” …….
Tact (By B. Sexelby) ……………………………………….
Three at Table (After W. W. Jacobs) ………………………
The Great Gatsby (By F. Scott Fitzgerald) …………………
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УЧЕБНОЕ ИЗДАНИЕ
Ахметова Сакина Габдулкаюмовна
SHORT STORIES FOR ORAL AND WRITTEN REPRODUCTION
Учебное пособие
Зав. РИО
Техн. редактор
Компьютерный набор и верстка
З.А. Губайдулина
А.Н.Оразалиева
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157