CONTENTS - читать бесплатно онлайн полную версию книги автора И'3fг'3fо'3fр'3fь'3f И'3fг'3fо'3fр'3fе'3fв'3fи'3fч'3f Х'3fо'3fх'3fл'3fо'3fв'3f (ч. 3)

Assignment # Eight – Задание № 8

Замените все вопросы в тексте в Косвенные (Indirect Questions). Перед выполнением Упражнения Вам необходимо ознакомиться с параграфами 69, 70 и 71 «Прямая и Косвенная речь» 5 Главы «Глагол» 1 Части «Части Речи в Английском языке» Первого тома Единого Грамматического комплекса. Всю необходимую Вам справочную информацию Вы можете найти во Втором томе в Приложениях.

Assignment # Nine – Задание № 9

Составьте диалоги, используя приведенные ниже слова и выражения:

it aches to move

have a headache

look very sick

have a fever

take one's temperature

give medicines

avoid smth.

Assignment # Ten – Задание № 10

Опишите на Английском языке Ваш последний визит к доктору. Используйте слова и выражения из текста и Упражнения 9.

Assignment # Eleven – Задание № 11

Расскажите на Английском языке, каким образом можно предотвратить болезни. Что помогает Вам сохранять себя в хорошей форме (to keep fit)?

Assignment # Twelve – Задание № 12

Прокомментируйте следующие поговорки; постарайтесь найти максимально близкие им эквиваленты в Русском языке:

“An apple a day keeps a doctor away”.

“Health is above wealth”.

“Early to bed and early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise”.

Unit 4

THE GREEN DOCTOR by O. Henry

Give Russian equivalents for the following words and expressions from the text and use them in the sentences of your own: make up one's mind, fall in (out of) love with, have a gift, splendid eyes, be on the point of smth, bear sufferings, employ smb, introduce smb to smb, announce smth, swear, start doing smth, be far (close) from the centre, a stuffy (airy) house, find faults, have patience, lose one's temper, take care of smb, be one's first concern.

III

Questions on the text:

1) How old was Roger Charing when he fell in love?

2) What gift did Ruth Barlow possess?

3) Describe Ruth Barlow. Why does the author call her "an unfortunate person"?

4) How did Roger court Ruth Barlow?

5) Why was he pleased with himself?

6) Why did his f eelings suddenly change and what did he swear?

7) Why didn't Ruth feel that his attitude towards her had changed?

8) What was Roger's plan? In what way did he put it into life?

9) How many houses did they visit and what f aults did Roger find?

10) What had changed in Ruth's disposition by the time she began to doubt if Roger would marry her?

11) What was Ruth's letter about?

12) Prove that Roger was stuck to his plan to the end.

Discuss the following:

1) Was Roger really in love with Ruth Barlow or was he only committing a good action?

2) Comment on Roger Charing's plan. Do you find it interesting?

3) Was Roger a good phsycologist? Prove it by the facts from the story.

4) Follow through the text how the author shows his attitude to the main heroes.

Retell the story on the part of 1) Roger, 2) Ruth, 3) one of Roger's close friends.

Unit 28

Mr. Know-All by W.S. Maugham

Once I was going by ship from San-Francisco to Yokohama. I shared my cabin with a man called Mr. Kelada. He was short and of a sturdy build, cleanshaven and dark-skinned, with a hooked nose and very large liquid eyes. His long black hair was curly. And though he introduced himself as an Englishman I felt sure that he was born under a bluer sky than is generally seen in England. Mr. Kelada was chatty. He talked of New York and of San Francisco. He discussed plays, pictures and politics. He was familiar. Though I was a total stranger to him he used no such formality as to put mister before my name when he addressed me. I didn't like Mr. Kelada. I not only shared a cabin with him and ate three meals a day at the same table, but I couldn't walk round the deck without his joining me. It was impossible to snub him. It never occurred to him that he was not wanted. He was certain that you were as glad to see him as he was glad to see you. In your own house you might have kicked him downstairs and slammed the door in his face.

Mr. Kelada was a good mixer, and in three days knew everyone on board. He ran everything. He conducted the auctions, collected money for prizes at the sports, organized the concert and arranged the fancy-dress ball. He was everywhere and always. He was certainly the best-hated man in the ship. We called him Mr. Know-A11, even to his face. He took it as a compliment. But it was at meal times that he was most intolerable. He knew everything better than anybody else and you couldn't disagree with him. He would not drop a subject till he had brought you round to his way of thinking. The possibility that he could be mistaken never occurred to him.

We were four at the table: the doctor, I, Mr. Kelada and Mr. Ramsay.

Ramsay was in the American Consular Service, and was stationed at Kobe. He was a great heavy fellow. He was on his way back to resume his post, having been on a flying visit to New York to fetch his wife, who had been spending a year at home. Mrs. Ramsay was a, very pretty little thing with pleasant manners and a sense of humour. She was dressed always very simply, but she knew how to wear her clothes.

One evening at dinner the conversation by chancedrifted to the subject of pearls. There was some argu- ment between Mr. Kelada and Ramsay about the value of culture and real pearls. I did not believe Ramsay knew anything about the subject at all. At last Mr. Kelada got furious and shouted: "Well, I know what I am talking about. I'm going to Japan just to look into this Japanese pearl business. I'm in the trade. I know the best pearls in the world, and what l don't know about pearls isn't worth knowing."

Here was news for us, for Mr. Kelada had never told anyone what his business was.

Ramsay leaned forward.

"That's a pretty chain, isn't it?" he asked pointing to the chain that Mrs. Ramsay wore.

"I noticed it at once," answered Mr. Kelada. "Those are pearls all right."

"I didn't buy it myself, of course," said Ramsay. "I wonder how much you think it cost."

"Oh, in the trade somewhere round fifteen thousand dollars. But if it was bought on Fif th Avenue anything up to thirty thousand was paid for it."

Ramsay smiled. "You'll be surprised to hear that Mrs. Ramsay bought that string the day bef ore we left New York for eighteen dollars. I'll bet you a hundred dollars it's imitation."

"Done."

"But how can it be proved?" Mrs. Ramsay asked.

"Let me look at the chain and if it's imitation I'll tell you quickly enough. I can afford to lose a hundred dollars," said Mr. Kelada.

The chain was handed to Mr. Kelada. He took a magnifying glass from his pocket and closely examined it. A smile of triumph spread over his face. He was about to speak. Suddenly he saw Mrs. Ramsay's face. It was so white that she looked as if she were about to faint'. She was staring at him with wide and terrified eyes. Mr. Kelada stopped with his mouth open. He flushed deeply. You could almost see the effort he was making over himself. "I was mistaken," he said. "It's a very good imitation." He took a hundred-dollar note out of his pocket and handed it to Ramsay without a word. "Perhaps that'll teach you a lesson," said Ramsay as he took the note. I noticed that Mr. Kelada's hands were trembling.

The story spread over the ship. It was a fine joke that Mr. Know-All had been caught out. But Mrs. Ramsay went to her cabin with a headache.

Next morning I got up and began to shave. Suddenly I saw a letter pushed under the door. I opened the door and looked out. There was nobody there. I picked up the letter and saw that it was addressed to Mr. Kelada. I handed it to him. He took out of the envelope a hundred-dollar note. He looked at me and reddened.

"Were the pearls real?" I asked.

"If I had a pretty little wif e I shouldn't let her spend a year in New York while I stayed at Kobe," said he.

NOTES:

formality – @opMazrbsoc

faint – ynacvї 6es coasaaza

Exercises and Assignments on the Text

Упражнения и Задания к Тексту

Assignment # One – Задание № 1

Найдите в тексте английские эквиваленты следующих слов, выражений и оборотов:

было больно двигаться – _________________________________________;

больной и несчастный – _________________________________________;

у него жар – _________________________________________;

форма гриппа – _________________________________________;

записал время приема лекарств – _________________________________________;

темные круги под глазами – _________________________________________;

не слушал, что я читаю – _________________________________________;

немного бредил – _________________________________________;

никого не пускал в комнату – _________________________________________;

это глупости – _________________________________________;

его взгляд уже не был таким напряженным – _______________________________________;

напряжение спало – _________________________________________.

Assignment # Two – Задание № 2

Дайте русские эквиваленты следующих слов, выражений и оборотов из текста; Составьте по три предложения с каждым их этих оборотов:

look ill – _________________________________________;

________________________________________________________________________________

take smb's temperature – _________________________________________;

________________________________________________________________________________

there is something (nothing) to worry about – _________________________________________;

________________________________________________________________________________

there is some (no) danger – _________________________________________;

________________________________________________________________________________

to go to sleep – _________________________________________;

________________________________________________________________________________

cannot keep from doing smth – _________________________________________;

________________________________________________________________________________

do good – _________________________________________;

________________________________________________________________________________

be of some (much, no) importance – _________________________________________;

________________________________________________________________________________

Assignment # Three – Задание № 3

Ответьте на следующие вопросы:

1) What signs of illness could the boy's father notice when he came into the room?

When he came into the room ______________________________________________________.

2) Did the boy go to bed as his father had asked him?

_______________________________________________________________________________.

3) What did the doctor say? What did he prescribe?

_______________________________________________________________________________.

4) Find in the text the sentences which prove that something serious worried the boy.

_______________________________________________________________________________.

5) Why didn't the boy let anyone come into the room?

_______________________________________________________________________________.

6) Which of the boy's questions reviled everything to his father?

_______________________________________________________________________________.

7) What was the real reason of the boy's sufferings?

_______________________________________________________________________________.

8) In what way did father explain everything to his son?

_______________________________________________________________________________.

Assignment # Four – Задание № 4

Перескажите рассказ от лица: 1) Отца мальчика; 2) Мальчика.

Assignment # Five – Задание № 5

Найдите в тексте все Глаголы неправильного спряжения и Заполните таблицу, давая их формы. Перед выполнением Упражнений 5 и 6 Вам необходимо ознакомиться с параграфами 48, 49, 50 и 51 5 Главы «Глагол» 1 Части «Части Речи в Английском языке» Первого тома Единого Грамматического комплекса. Всю необходимую Вам справочную информацию Вы можете найти во Втором томе в Приложениях «Таблица Времен Активного и Пассивного залогов». Проверить употребление форм причастий 1 и 2 (Participles 1 & 2) (вторая, третья и четвертая формы глаголов) можно по Таблицам “Спряжение Неправильных глаголов». Обращаю внимание на то, что таблиц две: в одной дается список неправильных глаголов в алфавитном порядке – ее я рекомендую применять для быстрого поиска необходимого слова, во второй глаголы даны по типам образования формы – на эту таблицу необходимо ориентироваться при заучивании наизусть:

Assignment # Six – Задание № 6

Найдите в тексте все Предложения в Прошедшем Продолженном времени. Перед выполнением Упражнения Вам необходимо ознакомиться с параграфами 52, 53, 54 и 55 «Вторая группа Времен – Continuous Tenses» 5 Главы «Глагол» 1 Части «Части Речи в Английском языке» Первого тома Единого Грамматического комплекса. Всю необходимую Вам справочную информацию Вы можете найти во Втором томе в Приложениях «Таблица Времен Активного и Пассивного залогов».

Assignment # Seven – Задание № 7

Задайте вопросы к словам, выделенным подчеркнутым наклонным шрифтом:

1) When the doctor came he took the boy's temperature.

______________________________________________________________________________?

2) I sat at the foot of the bed and read to myself.

______________________________________________________________________________?

3) At school in France the boys told me you cannot live with forty-four degrees.

______________________________________________________________________________?

4) He had been waiting to die all day, ever since nine o'clock in the morning.

______________________________________________________________________________?

Assignment # Eight – Задание № 8

Assignment # Nine – Задание № 9

Составьте диалоги, используя приведенные ниже слова и выражения:

it aches to move

have a headache

look very sick

have a fever

take one's temperature

give medicines

avoid smth.

Assignment # Ten – Задание № 10

Assignment # Eleven – Задание № 11

Assignment # Twelve – Задание № 12

“An apple a day keeps a doctor away”.

“Health is above wealth”.

“Early to bed and early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise”.

Unit 4

THE GREEN DOCTOR by O. Henry

Give Russian equivalents for the following words and expressions from the text and use them in the sentences of your own:

a chatty man, address smb, be certain, be a goodmixer, take smth as a compliment, a way of thinking, be mistaken, pleasant manners, a sense of humour, dress simply, get furious, be worth doing, can afford to do smth, examine smth closely, stare at smb with wide eyes, make an effort over oneself, trembling hands.

III Questions on the text:

1) Where did the author get acquainted with Mr. Kelada?

2) What did Mr. Kelada look like?

3) Why did the author doubt whether his companion was an Englishman?

4) Prove that Mr. Kelada was chatty and familiar.

5) In what way did Mr. Kelada force himself upon his f ellow-travellers?

6) Why did the passengers call him Mr. Know-All?

7) When and why was he most intolerable?

8) Who was Mr. Ramsay and why had he flown to New York?

9) Describe his wife.

10) What subject did the conversation drift to one evening?

11) What did Mr. Kelada's companions find out about his business?

12) How did Mr. Kelada value Mrs. Ramsay's string of pearls?

13) Why did Mr. Kelada and Mr. Ramsay make a bet?

14) Why was Mr. Know-All so certain that he would win the bet?

15) What made him say the thing he didn't want to?

16) What was Mr. Ramsay's and other passengers’ reaction?

17) What happened next morning?

18) How did Mr. Kelada explain his strange behaviour the night before?

Discuss fhe following:

1) Give a character sketch of Mr. Kelada.

2) Was his gentle behaviour during the last argument a surprise to you? Does it contradict to the author's previous portrait of his? Why do you think the author gave such a contrast?

3) Why did Mr. Kelada's words cost him a lot of effort? Analyse other possible variants of his behaviour.

4) Who wrote the letter? What for?

Retell fhe story on the part of 1) Mr. Kelada, 2) Mr. Ramsay, 3) fhe docfor.

Unit 24

Art for Heart's Sake'

R. Goldberg

"Here, take your juice," said Koppel, Mr. Ellsworth's servant and nurse.

"No," said Collis P. Ellsworth.

"But it's good for you, sir!"

"The doctor insists on it."

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 doesn't want to take his juice. I can't persuade him to take his medicine. He doesn't want me to read to him. He hates TV. He doesn't like anything!"

Doctor Caswell took the information with his usual professional calm. This was not an ordinary case. The old gentleman was in pretty good health for a man of seventy. But it was necessary to keep him from buying things. His financial transactions always ended in failure, which was bad for his health.

"How are you this morning? Feeling better?" asked the doctor. "I hear you haven't been obeying my orders."

The doctor drew up a chair and sat down close to the old man. He had to do his duty. "I'd like to make a suggestion," he said quietly. He didn't want to argue with the old man.

Old Ellsworth looked at him over his glasses. The way Doctor Caswell said it made him suspicions. "What is it, more medicine, more automobile rides to keep me away from the office?" the old man asked with suspicion. "Not at all," said the doctor. "I've been thinking of something different. As a matter of fact I'd like to suggest that you should take up art. I don't mean seriously of course," said the doctor, "just try. You'll like it."

Much to his surprise the old man agreed. He only asked who was going to teach him drawing. "I've thought of that too," said the doctor. "I know a student from an art school who can come round once a week. If you don't like it, after a little while you can throw him out." The person he had in mind and promised to bring over was a certain Frank Swain, eighteen years old and a capable student. Like most students he needed money. Doctor Caswell kept his promise.

He got in touch with Frank Swain and the lessons began. The old man liked it so much that when at the end of the f irst lesson Koppel came in and apologised to him for interrupting the lesson, as the old man needed a rest, Ellsworth looked disappointed.

When the art student came the following week, he saw a drawing on the table. It was a vase. But something was definitely wrong with it.

"Well, what do you think of it?" asked the old man stepping aside.

"I don't mean to hurt you, sir...", began Swain.

"I see," the old man interrupted, "the halves don't match. I can't say I am good at drawing. Listen, young man," he whispered. "I want to ask you something before Old Juice comes again. I don't want to speak in his presence."

"Yes, sir," said Swain with respect.

"I've been thinking... Could you come twice a week or perhaps three times?"

"Sure, Mr. Ellsworth," the student said respectfully.

"When shall I come?"

They arranged to meet on Monday, Wednesday and Friday.

As the weeks went by, Swain's visits grew more frequent. The old man drank his juice obediently. Doctor Caswell hoped that business had been forgotten forever.

When spring came, Ellsworth painted a picture which he called "Trees Dressed in White." The picture was awful. The trees in it looked like salad thrown up against the wall. Then he announced that he was going to display it at the Summer Show at the Lathrop Gallery. Doctor Caswell and Swain didn't believe it. They thought the old man was joking.

The summer show at the Lathrop Gallery was the biggest exhibition of the year. All outstanding artists in the United States dreamt of winning a Lathrop prize.

To the astonishment of all "Trees Dressed in White" was accepted for the Show.

Young Swain went to the exhibition one af ternoon and blushed when he saw "Trees Dressed in White"

gi l 'B0 ii di of the strange picture, Swain rushed out. He was ashamed that a picture like that had been accepted for the show.

However Swain did not give up teaching the old man. Every time Koppel entered the room he found the old man painting something. Koppel even thought of hiding the brush from him. The old man seldom mentioned his picture and was usually cheerful.

Two days before the close of the exhibition Ellsworth received a letter. Koppel brought it when Swain and the doctor were in the room. "Read it to me," asked the old man putting aside the brush he was holding in his hand. "My eyes are tired from painting."

118

The letter said: "It gives the Lathrop Gallery pleasure to announce that Collis P. Kllsworth has been awarded the First Landscape Prize of ten thousand dollars for his painting "Trees Dressed in White".

Smain became dumb with astonishment. Koppel dropped the glass with juice he was about to give Ellsworth. Doctor Caswell managed to keep calm. "Congratulations, Mr. Ellsworth," said the doctor. "Fine, fine... Frankly, I didn't expect that your picture would win the prize. Anyway I've proved to you that art is more satisfying than business."

"Art is nothing. I bought the Lathrop Gallery," said the old man highly pleased with the effect of his deception.

NOTES:

'art for heart's sake – eczyccvao paa pymm

Exercises and Assignments on the Text

Упражнения и Задания к Тексту

Assignment # One – Задание № 1

Найдите в тексте английские эквиваленты следующих слов, выражений и оборотов:

было больно двигаться – _________________________________________;

больной и несчастный – _________________________________________;

у него жар – _________________________________________;

форма гриппа – _________________________________________;

записал время приема лекарств – _________________________________________;

темные круги под глазами – _________________________________________;

не слушал, что я читаю – _________________________________________;

немного бредил – _________________________________________;

никого не пускал в комнату – _________________________________________;

это глупости – _________________________________________;

его взгляд уже не был таким напряженным – _______________________________________;

напряжение спало – _________________________________________.

Assignment # Two – Задание № 2

look ill – _________________________________________;

________________________________________________________________________________

take smb's temperature – _________________________________________;

________________________________________________________________________________

there is something (nothing) to worry about – _________________________________________;

________________________________________________________________________________

there is some (no) danger – _________________________________________;

________________________________________________________________________________

to go to sleep – _________________________________________;

________________________________________________________________________________

cannot keep from doing smth – _________________________________________;

________________________________________________________________________________

do good – _________________________________________;

________________________________________________________________________________

be of some (much, no) importance – _________________________________________;

________________________________________________________________________________

Assignment # Three – Задание № 3

Ответьте на следующие вопросы:

1) What signs of illness could the boy's father notice when he came into the room?

When he came into the room ______________________________________________________.

2) Did the boy go to bed as his father had asked him?

_______________________________________________________________________________.

3) What did the doctor say? What did he prescribe?

_______________________________________________________________________________.

4) Find in the text the sentences which prove that something serious worried the boy.

_______________________________________________________________________________.

5) Why didn't the boy let anyone come into the room?

_______________________________________________________________________________.

6) Which of the boy's questions reviled everything to his father?

_______________________________________________________________________________.

7) What was the real reason of the boy's sufferings?

_______________________________________________________________________________.

8) In what way did father explain everything to his son?

_______________________________________________________________________________.

Assignment # Four – Задание № 4

Перескажите рассказ от лица: 1) Отца мальчика; 2) Мальчика.

Assignment # Five – Задание № 5

Assignment # Six – Задание № 6

Assignment # Seven – Задание № 7

Задайте вопросы к словам, выделенным подчеркнутым наклонным шрифтом:

1) When the doctor came he took the boy's temperature.

______________________________________________________________________________?

2) I sat at the foot of the bed and read to myself.

______________________________________________________________________________?

3) At school in France the boys told me you cannot live with forty-four degrees.

______________________________________________________________________________?

4) He had been waiting to die all day, ever since nine o'clock in the morning.

______________________________________________________________________________?

Assignment # Eight – Задание № 8

Assignment # Nine – Задание № 9

Составьте диалоги, используя приведенные ниже слова и выражения:

it aches to move

have a headache

look very sick

have a fever

take one's temperature

give medicines

avoid smth.

Assignment # Ten – Задание № 10

Assignment # Eleven – Задание № 11

Assignment # Twelve – Задание № 12

“An apple a day keeps a doctor away”.

“Health is above wealth”.

“Early to bed and early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise”.

Unit 4

THE GREEN DOCTOR by O. Henry

Give Russian equivalents for the following words and expressions from the text and use them in the sentences of your own: insist on smth, persuade smb to do smth, keep smb from doing smth, end in failure, obey smb's orders, make a suggestion, argue with smb, ask with suspicion, keep one's promise, get in touch with smb, apologise to smb for (doing) smth, look disappointed, be good at smth, whisper smth, arrange to do smth, an awful picture, an outstanding artist, dream of (doing) smth, give up doing smth, be awarded smth, prove to smb.

Questions on the text:

1) Who was Koppel and why wasn't he satisfied with the behaviour of his patient?

2) Was Mr. Ellsworth really ill? Why was his case not an ordinary one?

3) What suggestion did Dr. Caswell make to Ellsworth?

4) Who was Frank Swain?

5) Prove that Ellsworth enjoyed painting.

6) Why did Ellsworth ask Swain to come three times a week?

7) Was Dr. Caswell pleased with the results of his "treatment"?

8) What picture did Ellsworth paint?

9) What did he want to do with the picture?

10) Why did everybody think at first that Ellsworth was joking?

11) What was Swain's reaction when he saw Ellsworth's picture at the show?

12) Why didn't Swain give up teaching Ellsworth?

13) What happened two days before the close of the exhibition?

14) What did the letter say?

15) What was the reaction of all present?

16) What did Ellsworth tell them about?

Discuss fhe following:

1) Ellsworth tried to prove to everybody that business is more important than art. Did he succeed?What do you consider more important?

2) Why do you think Ellsworth didn't give up taking lessons after he had sent the picture to the show? Was it a part of his plan of deception? Comment on his plan. Find in the text other details of his clever scheme.

3) Why didn't Ellsworth read the letter himself? Were his eyes really tired?

4) All Ellsworth's financial transactions ended in failure. Do you think the purchase of the Gallery was also a transaction of this kind? What do you think he will do with the Gallery later?

5) "Life is short, art is long." Do you agree with it? Why do people need art? What is more satisfying art or business?

Retell the text on the part of 1) Ellswarth, 2) Koppel, 3) Dr. Caswell, 4) Frank Swain.

Unit 25

Wager with Destiny

E.E. Gatti

Anderson was alone in camp when the native boy brought him Barton's book.

"The boss has dropped it on the trail," the boy said. Anderson knew the book well, a cheap, shabby little notebook. He had heard Barton say a dozen times that he'd bought it with the first dime he'd earned, and every financial transaction he'd made since was entered in that book.

The camp was inside a mountain jungle in the Kuvi region of the Congo. And the heavy clouds overhead made Anderson feel gloomy. He was not well, and he was nervous. And he was unreasonably disturbed about the cage.

He had come on this hunting safari as Barton's guest. Barton, now, was one of the richest men in America; a hard man, who was proud of his power. It was surprising, therefore, to Anderson, that after fifteen years of silence, Barton had looked him up, renewed their boyhood friendship and made him this invitation. Anderson was grateful for it; for he, himself, was penniless and a failure.

Barton had made a bet at his club that he could capture alive a full-grown gorilla and bring it back to America. Hence the safari. And hence the portable steel cage with its automatic door.

Anderson couldn't bear to think of a great gorilla, unable to use his magnificent strength, shut up in the cage. But Anderson, of course, was sensitive about steel bars.

He did not mean to look in Barton's book. It had fallen into the mud, and Anderson only wanted to clean it.

But as he turned the pages shaking out the dried mud, his eyes fell upon a date – April 20, 1923. That was the date that had been seared into Anderson's mind with a red-hot iron, and mechanically he read the entry. Then he opened his mouth and the air swam around him.

“April 20, 1923, received $50,000” the book stated. Nothing more than that. And on April 20, 1923, he, Anderson, an innocent man, a young accountant in the same firm where Barton was just beginning his career, had been sentenced to fifteen years in prison for embezzlement' of $50,000.

Anderson was as shaken as if the very ground had opened under his feet. Memories rushed back to him. The books' had been tampered' with, all right. But they had never been able to locate the money.

And all the time it was Barton who had stolen the money; had used it as the cornerstone4 of his vast suc- cess; had noted it down, laconically, in his little book!

"But why did he bring me here?" Anderson asked himself. His body was burning with heat, and his head was heavy; he felt the first sign of malaria. And his heart was filled with the terrible, bitter rage of one betrayed. "Does he think I suspect him? Does he plan to kill me now?"

And then the reason came, cold and clear. There was a power of justice in life, and that power had made Barton bring him, so that he, Anderson, could take the law in his own hands, and the guilty would be punished instead of the innocent.

At once his mind was made up, and he had never known his thinking to be so clear and direct. He would kill Barton while he slept – they shared the same tent. And he would go to bed now and pretend sleeping, so that he would not have to speak to Barton.

It was already late in the afternoon. Anderson uneasily walked into the tent. But he did not have to play a role, for as soon as he touched the bed he fell into the heavy sleep of increasing malaria.

It was bright moonlight outside the tent when he awoke. He could hear Barton's regular, rhythmic breathing in the darkness near him. He dressed quickly and noiselessly, turned the safety catch of his revolver and bent above Barton. But a sudden shock of revulsion came over him.

He put the revolver down carefully on the table near his bed. Then he was outside the tent and trying to run, to get away from that accusing voice that cried within him, again and again, "Murderer!"

He did not know where he was until his hand touched something cold and hard – a steel bar of the cage. God, it knew steel bars, that hand. He closed his eyes against the thought, and took a few steps forward. Then a noise behind him made him turn around. The steel door of the cage had dropped! He had walked into the cage, closing the automatic door!

"Where you should be," cried the accusing voice, “where murderers ought to be, in a cage!”

Anderson sobbed hysterically. Then he fell and the flames of his fever licked him.

Anderson opened his eyes with great effort, and saw above him the face of the friendly planter who lived some miles from the camp.

"You'll be all right now," the man said, "the fever's over. But how did you get into the cage?"

Anderson tried to explain, but he didn't have strength enough to speak. He knew where he was, in a bed in the planter's house. And gradually he became aware that there was another white man in the room, one he had never seen before.

"He was lucky," the planter was saying to this strange man. "If he hadn't been safe in that cage, the gorillas would have got him as they did Barton and those pygmies."

"Do you feel able to talk now?" the stranger asked "I expect you're wondering who I am. I am Barton's lawyer, I flew down from New York to take charge of Barton's affairs as soon as I got the news. You've been delirious three weeks, you know."

The lawyer sat down beside Anderson's bed. “As you know, my late client was a superstitious man, and a great gambler”, he said. “You two, as young men, started your careers together. And on the very day that he received the capital that gave him his chance, you were sentenced to prison on a charge of embezzling the identical' sum – fifty thousand dollars. Barton took the coincidence as an act of fate”.

“He made a kind of bet with fate," the lawyer went on. "If he were allowed to succeed, he promised to do something good for you. And he kept the bet, he remembered you in his will'. I thought you'd like to know why”.

"I know why all right," said Anderson. A little word called "conscience'", he thought.

"I happened to know all about it," the lawyer added, "Because I was the executor of the will of Barton's aunt. She hadn't liked hi'm, and he'd expected nothing from her. So that fifty thousand was like money falling from the skies."

NOTES:

embezzlement – pacvpav

books – 6yxraavepcxxe

tamper – noppezbrsav

cornerstone – OCHOBR

gambler – erpoz

identical – vazaa me

fate – cypb6a

will – saseїasee

conscience – coaeCTb

Exercises and Assignments on the Text

Упражнения и Задания к Тексту

Assignment # One – Задание № 1

Найдите в тексте английские эквиваленты следующих слов, выражений и оборотов:

было больно двигаться – _________________________________________;

больной и несчастный – _________________________________________;

у него жар – _________________________________________;

форма гриппа – _________________________________________;

записал время приема лекарств – _________________________________________;

темные круги под глазами – _________________________________________;

не слушал, что я читаю – _________________________________________;

немного бредил – _________________________________________;

никого не пускал в комнату – _________________________________________;

это глупости – _________________________________________;

его взгляд уже не был таким напряженным – _______________________________________;

напряжение спало – _________________________________________.

Assignment # Two – Задание № 2

look ill – _________________________________________;

________________________________________________________________________________

take smb's temperature – _________________________________________;

________________________________________________________________________________

there is something (nothing) to worry about – _________________________________________;

________________________________________________________________________________

there is some (no) danger – _________________________________________;

________________________________________________________________________________

to go to sleep – _________________________________________;

________________________________________________________________________________

cannot keep from doing smth – _________________________________________;

________________________________________________________________________________

do good – _________________________________________;

________________________________________________________________________________

be of some (much, no) importance – _________________________________________;

________________________________________________________________________________

Assignment # Three – Задание № 3

Ответьте на следующие вопросы:

1) What signs of illness could the boy's father notice when he came into the room?

When he came into the room ______________________________________________________.

2) Did the boy go to bed as his father had asked him?

_______________________________________________________________________________.

3) What did the doctor say? What did he prescribe?

_______________________________________________________________________________.

4) Find in the text the sentences which prove that something serious worried the boy.

_______________________________________________________________________________.

5) Why didn't the boy let anyone come into the room?

_______________________________________________________________________________.

6) Which of the boy's questions reviled everything to his father?

_______________________________________________________________________________.

7) What was the real reason of the boy's sufferings?

_______________________________________________________________________________.

8) In what way did father explain everything to his son?

_______________________________________________________________________________.

Assignment # Four – Задание № 4

Перескажите рассказ от лица: 1) Отца мальчика; 2) Мальчика.

Assignment # Five – Задание № 5

Assignment # Six – Задание № 6

Assignment # Seven – Задание № 7

Задайте вопросы к словам, выделенным подчеркнутым наклонным шрифтом:

1) When the doctor came he took the boy's temperature.

______________________________________________________________________________?

2) I sat at the foot of the bed and read to myself.

______________________________________________________________________________?

3) At school in France the boys told me you cannot live with forty-four degrees.

______________________________________________________________________________?

4) He had been waiting to die all day, ever since nine o'clock in the morning.

______________________________________________________________________________?

Assignment # Eight – Задание № 8

Assignment # Nine – Задание № 9

Составьте диалоги, используя приведенные ниже слова и выражения:

it aches to move

have a headache

look very sick

have a fever

take one's temperature

give medicines

avoid smth.

Assignment # Ten – Задание № 10

Assignment # Eleven – Задание № 11

Assignment # Twelve – Задание № 12

“An apple a day keeps a doctor away”.

“Health is above wealth”.

“Early to bed and early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise”.

Unit 4

THE GREEN DOCTOR by O. Henry

Give Russian equivalents for the following words and expressions from the texf and use them in the sentences of your own:

make a financial transaction, feel gloomy, be grateful for smth, be a failure, be unable to do smth, begin one's career, vast success, bitter rage, suspect smb, punish the guilty, pretend sleeping, make smb turn around, with great effort, be delirious, make a bet, keep the bet, happen to know, expect smth from smb.

III

Questions on the text:

1) Where does the action take place?

2) How did Barton's notebook get into Anderson's hands?

3) What information did he become aware of?

4) What kind of man was Barton?

5) Why did he come on a hunting safari?

6) Why did Anderson think of killing Barton?

7) Why couldn't he put his idea into life?

8) How did Anderson find himself in the cage?

9) What happened to Barton?

10) Where was Anderson when he came to himself?

11) Why did Barton's lawyer come to Africa?

12) Why and when did Barton make a note about $50,000 in his notebook?

13) What kind of bet had he made?

Discuss the following:

1) Anderson said about himself that he was a failure. What does it mean?

2) In spite of his hard life Anderson remained a kind, soft-hearted man. What facts from the text prove it?

3) Anderson could kill Barton. Was it conscience that stopped him? What role does conscience play in the life of people according to Anderson?

4) A businessman cannot afford conscience. Do you agree with it? Discuss this problem taking into consideration Barton's example.

5) Coincidence can play an important role in people's life. Do you agree with it? Discuss some situations connected with this problem.

Retell the fext on fhe part of 1) Anderson, 2) Barton, 3) Barfon's lawyer.

Contents

Part Two

1. Rikki-Tikki-Tavi. R. Kipling ................................. 130

2. The Fisherman and His Soul. O. Wilde ................. 143

3. The Surprise of Mr. Milberry. J. K. Jerome ......... 166

4. The Alligators. J. Updike ........................................ 173

5. The Mystery of the Blue Jar. A. Christie ............. 179

6. The Flock of Geryon. A. Christie .......................... 196

7. Blue Lenses. D. du Maurier .................................... 205

8. The Last Inch. J. Aldridge ...................................... 225

Rikki- Tikki- Tavi by R. Kipling

This is the story of the great war that Rikki-tikki-tavi fought all alone. Darzee, the tailor-bird, helped him, and Chuchundra, the muskrat, who never comes out into the middle of the room, but always creeps round by the walls, gave him advice, but Rikki-tikki-tavi did the real fighting.

He was a mongoose, but in his fur and tail he was like a little cat, and like a weasel in his head and habits. His eyes and the end of his restless nose were pink; he could scratch himself anywhere he liked, with any leg, front or back; he could fluff up his tail till it looked like a bottle brush, and his war-cry as he ran through the long grass, was: "Rikk-tikk-tikki-tikki-tchk!"

One day, a hard summer rain washed him out of the hole where he lived with his father and mother, and carried him down a roadside ditch. There he found some grass, and clung to it till he lost his senses. When he came to himself, he was lying in the hot sun in the middle of a garden path, and a small boy was saying: "Here's a dead mongoose. Let's have a funeral."

"No," said his mother; "let's take him home and dry him. Perhaps he isn't really dead."

They took him into the house, and a big man picked him up and said he was not dead but half choked," so they wrapped him in cotton-wool, and warmed him, and he opened his eyes and sneezed.

"Now," said the big man (he was an Englishman who had just moved into the bungalow); "don't frighten him, and we'll see what he'll do."

It is the hardest thing in the world to frighten a mongoose, because he is full of curiosity from nose to tail. The motto of all the mongoose family is, "Run and find out"; and Rikki-tikki was a true mongoose. He looked at the cotton-wool, decided that it was not good to eat, ran all round the table, sat up and put his fur in order, scratched himself, and jumped on the small boy's shoulder.

"Don't be frightened, Teddy," said his father. "That's how he makes friends."

Rikki-tikki looked down at the boy's neck, sniffed at his ear, and climbed dovrn to the floor, where he sat rubbing his nose.

"And that is a wild creature!" said Teddy's mother. "I suppose he is so tame because we have been kind to him."

"All mongooses are like that," said her husband. "If Teddy doesn't pull him by the tail, or try to put him in a cage, he'll run in and out of the house all day long. Let's give him something to eat."

They gave him a little piece of raw meat. Rikki-tikki liked it very much, and when he finished he went out into the veranda and sat in the sunshine and fluffed up his fur to make it dry to the roots. Then he felt better.

"I can find out about more things in this house," he said to himself, "than all my family could find out in all their lives. I shall certainly stay and find out."

He spent all that day running over the house. He nearly drowned himself in the bath-tubs, put his nose into the ink on a writing-table, and burned it on the end of the big man's cigar, for he climbed up in the big man's lap to see how he was writing. In the evening he ran into Teddy's room to watch how kerosene lamps were lighted, and when Teddy went to bed Rikki-tikki climbed up too, but he was a restless companion, because he had to get up and find out about every noise all the night long. When Teddy's mother and father came in to look at their boy, Rikki-tikki was sitting on the pillow. "I don't like that," said Teddy's mother; "he may bite the child." "He'll not do such a thing," said the father. "Teddy is safe with that little beast. If a snake comes into the room now"

But Teddy's mother didn't even want to hear of such a terrible thing.

Early in the morning Rikki-tikki came to breakfast in the veranda riding on Teddy's shoulder, and they gave him banana and some boiled egg; and he sat on all their laps one after the other, because Rikki-tikki's mother (she used to live in a general's house) had told him what to do if ever he came to the house of Man.

Rikki-tikki went out into the garden. It was a large garden with bushes, fruit trees, bamboos and high grass. Rikki-tikki licked his lips. "This is a splendid hunting-ground," he said and he ran up and down the garden, sniffing here and there till he heard very sorrowful voices in a bush.

It was Darzee, the tailor-bird, and his wife. They had made a beautiful nest of two big leaves, cotton and fluff. The nest swayed to and fro, as they sat in it and cried.

"What is the matter?" asked Rikki-tikki.

"We are very unhappy," said Darzee. "One of our babies fell out of the nest yesterday and Nag ate him."

"H'm!" said Rikki-tikki, "that is very sad – but I am a stranger here. Who is Nag?"

Darzee and his wife only bent down in the nest without answering, for from the thick grass at the foot of the bush there came a low hiss – a terrible sound that made Rikki-tikki jump back almost two feet. Then out of the grass rose up the head and hood of Nag, the big black cobra, and he was five feet long from tongue to tail. When he had lifted one-third of himself from the ground, he looked at Rikki-tikki with the wicked snake's eyes that never change their expression.

"Who is Nag?" he said. "I am Nag. The great god Brahm put his mark upon all our people when the first cobra' spread his hood to keep the sun off Brahm as he slept. Look, and be afraid!"

He spread out his hood, and Rikki-tikki saw the spectacle-mark' on the back of it and at that moment he was afraid; but it is impossible for a mongoose to be afraid for a long time, and though Rikki-tikki had never met alive cobra before, his mother had given him dead ones to eat, and he knew that a grown mongoose's business in life was to fight and eat snakes. Nag knew that too, and at the bottom of his cold heart he was afraid.

"Well," said Rikki-tikki, and his tail began to fluff up again, "marks or no marks, do you think it is right for ii you to eat babies out of a nest?"

Nag was thinking to himself, and watching each little movement in the grass behind Rikki-tikki. He knew that mongooses in the garden meant death sooner or later for him and his family; but he wanted to get Rikki-tikki off his guard.' So he dropped his head a little, and put it on one side.

"Let us talk," he said. "You eat eggs. Why should not I eat birds?"

"Behind you! Look behind you!" sang Darzee.

Rikki-tikki jumped up in the air as high as he could, and just under him whizzed by the head of Nagaina, Nag's wicked wife. She crept up behind him as he was talking, to make an end of him; and he heard her savage hiss as the stroke missed.' He came down almost on her back, and then was the time to break her back with one bite – but he was a young mongoose and did not know it and he was afraid of the terrible return-stroke of the cobra. He bit, indeed, but did not bite long enough, and he jumped off her tail, leaving Nagaina wounded and angry.

"Wicked, wicked Darzee!" said Nag, lifting up his head as high as he could toward the nest; but Darzee had built it out of reach' of snakes, and it only swayed to and fro. Rikki-tikki felt that his eyes were growing red and hot (when a mongoose's eyes grow red, he is angry), and he sat back on his tail and hind legs like a little kangaroo, and looked all around him angrily, but Nag and Nagaina had disappeared into the grass. When a snake misses its stroke, it never says anything or gives any sign of what it is going to do next. Rikki-tikki did not want to follow them, for he was not sure that he could manage two snakes at once. So he trotted of to the path near the house, and sat down to think. It was a serious matter for him.

The victory is only a matter of quickness of eye and quickness of foot,– snake's blow against mongoose's jump,– and no eye can follow the turn of a snake's head when it strikes. Rikki-tikki knew he was a young mongoose, and it made him very glad to think that he had managed to escape a blow from behind. It made him believe in himself, and when Teddy came running down the path, Rikki-tikki was ready to play with him.

But as Teddy was stooping, something moved in the dust, and a faint voice said: "Be careful. I am Death!" It was Karait, the dusty brown Snakeling that lies on the dusty earth; and his bite is as dangerous as the Cobra's. But he is so small that nobody thinks of him, and so he does much harm to people.

Rikki-tikki's eyes grew red again, and he danced up to Karait rocking and swaying like all the mongooses of his family. Rikki-tikki did not know that he was doing a much more dangerous thing than fighting Nag, for Karait is so small, and can turn so quickly, that if Rikki does not bite him close to the back of the head, he may get the return stroke in his eye or lip. But Rikki did not know it and his eyes were all red, and he rocked back and forth, looking for a good place to bite. Karait struck out. Rikki jumped aside, but the wicked little dusty gray head struck almost at his shoulder, and Rikki had to jump over him.

Teddy shouted to the house: "Oh, look here! Our mongoose is killing a snake"; and Rikki-tikki heard a scream from Teddy's mother. His father ran out with a stick, but by the time he came up, Karait ran away too far, and Rikki-tikki had jumped on the snake's back, bit as high up the back as he could, and rolled away. That bite paralyzed Karait, and Rikki-tikki was just going to eat him up from the tail, after the custom of his family, when he remembered that a full meal makes a slow mongoose, and if he wanted to be strong and quick his stomach must be empty.

He went away for a dust-bath under the bushes, while Teddy's father beat the dead Karait. "What is the use of that?" thought Rikki-tikki. "I have put an end to him"; and then Teddy's mother picked him up from the dust and hugged him, cryinj that he had saved Teddy from Death, and Teddy's father said that he brought luck, and Teddy looked on with big frightened eyes. Rikki-tikki did not understand all this but he was enjoying himself very much.

Teddy carried him off to bed, and wanted Rikki-tikki to sleep under his chin. Rikki-tikki did not bite or scratch – he was too well-bred – but as soon as Teddy was asleep he went off to walk round the house, and in the dark he ran up against Chuchundra, the muskrat, creeping round by the wall. Chuchundra is a frightened little beast. He creeps all night, trying to make up his mind to run into the middle of the room, but he never gets there. "Don't kill me," said Chuchundra, almost weeping. "Rikki-tikki, don't kill me."

"Do you think a snake-killer kills muskrats?" said Rikki-tikki scornfully.

"Those who kill snakes are killed by snakes," said Chuchundra very sorrowfully. "And how can I be sure that Nag won't mistake me for you one dark night?"

"There's not the least danger," said Rikki-tikki; "but Nag is in the garden, and I know you don't go there."

"My cousin Chua, the rat, told me –" said Chuchundra, and then he stopped.

"Told you what?"

"H'sh! Nag is everywhere, Rikki-tikki. Why didn't you talk to Chua in the garden?"

"I did not – so you must tell me. Quick, Chuchundra, or I'll bite you!"

Chuchundra sat down and cried till the tears rolled off his whiskers. "I am a very poor man," he sobbed. "I was never brave enough to run into the middle of the room. Hsh! I mustn't tell you anything. Can't you hear, Rikki-tikki?"

Rikki-tikki listened. The house was still, but he thought he could just hear the faintest scratch-scratch in the world.

"That's Nag or Nagaina," he said to himself; "and he is crawling into the bathroom. Chuchundra, you are right, I am sorry I did not talk to Chua."

He stole off to Teddy's bathroom; but there was nothing there, and as Rikki-tikki stole to Teddy's mother's bathroom, he heard Nag and Nagaina whispering together outside in the moonlight.

"When there are no people in the house," said Nagaina to her husband, "he will have to go away, and then the garden will be our own again. Go in quietly, and first bite the big man who killed Karait. Then come out and tell me, and we will hunt for Rikki-tikki together."

"But are you sure that we shall gain anything if we kill the people?" said Nag.

"Everything. When there were no people in the bungalow, did we have any mongoose in the garden? So long as the bungalow is empty, we are king and queen of the garden; and remember that as soon as our eggs in the melon-bed hatch (and they may hatch to-morrow), our children will need room and quiet."

"I had not though of that," said Nag. "I will go, but there is no need for us to hunt for Rikki-tikki afterward. I will kill the big man and his wife, and the child if I can, and come away quietly. Then the bungalow will be empty, and Rikki-tikki will go."

Rikki-tikki shook all over with rage when he heard this, and then Nag's head came into the bath-room, and his five feet of cold body followed it. Rikki-tikki was angry but he got very frightened when he saw the size of the big cobra. Nag coiled himself up, raised his head, and looked into the bathroom in the dark, and Rikki could see his eyes glitter.

"Now, if I kill him here, Nagaina will know; and if I fight him on the open floor, the odds are in his favour.' What shall I do?" said Rikki-tikki-tavi.

Nag waved to and fro, and then Rikki-tikki heard him drinking from the biggest water-jar that was used to fill the bath. "That is good," said the snake. "Now, when Karait was killed, the big man had a stick. He may have that stick still, but when he comes into the bathroom in the morning he will not have a stick. I shall wait here till he comes. Nagaina – do you hear me? – I shall wait heretill daytime."

There was no answer from outside, so Rikki-tikki knew that Nagaina had gone away. Nag coiled himself down, round the bottorn of the water-jar, and Rikki-tikki stayed still as death. After an hour he began to move toward the jar. Nag was asleep, and Rikki-tikki looked at his big back, wondering which would be the best place for a good bite. "If I don't' break his back at the first jump," said Rikki, "he can still fight; and if he fights – Oh, Rikki!" He looked at the thick neck below the hood, but that was too much for him; and a bite near the tail would only make Nag wild.

"I must bite the head," he said at last; "the head above the hood; and when I am there I must not let go."

Then he jumped and caught the snake by the head and held fast. Then he was shaken to and fro as a rat is shaken by a dog – to and fro on the floor, up and down, and round in great circles. His eyes were red, and he held fast as the body rolled over the floor, upsetting the basins and jars and banging against the side of the bath. As he held he closed his jaws tighter and tighter, for he was ready to be shaken to death, and for the honour of his family, he preferred to be found with his teeth locked. He was dizzy, and he felt that he was shaken to pieces when somethingwent off like a thunder-clap just behind him; he lost his senses in the hot wind and the red fire burned his fur.

The big man had been wakened by the noise, and had fired a gun into Nag just behind the hood.

Rikki-tikki still held fast with his eyes shut, for now he was quite sure he was dead; but the head did not move, and the big man picked him up and said: "It's the mongoose again, Alice; the little fellow has saved our lives now." Then Teddy's mother came in with a very white face, and saw what was left of Nag, and Rikki-tikki dragged himself to Teddy's bedroom and spent the rest of the night shaking himself to find out whether he really was broken into forty pieces, as he thought.

When morning came he was very stiff, but very much pleased with himself. "Now I have to put an end to Nagaina, and she will be worse than five Nags, and who knows when the eggs she spoke about will hatch. I must go and see Darzee," he said.

Without waiting for breakfast, Rikki-tikki ran to the bush where Darzee was singing a song of triumph at the top of his voice. The news of Nag's death was all over the garden, for the sweeper had thrown the body on the rubbish-heap.

"Oh, you stupid bird!" said Rikki-tikki, angrily; "Is this the time to sing?"

"Nag is dead – is dead – is dead!" sang Darzee. "The brave Rikki-tikki caught him by the head and held fast. The big man brought the bang-stick' and Nag fell in two pieces! He will never eat my babies again."

"All that is true; but where is Nagaina?" said Rikki-tikki, looking carefully around him.

"On the rubbish-heap, mourning for Nag. Great is Rikki-tikki with the white teeth."

"Bother my white teeth! Have you ever heard where she keeps her eggs?"

"In the melon-bed, on the end nearest the wall, where the sun is hot almost all day. She had them there many weeks ago."

"Why didn't you tell me about it before? The end nearest the wall, you said?"

"Rikki-tikki, are you going to eat her eggs?"

"Not eat exactly; no, Darzee, if you have some sense you will fly to the rubbish-heap and pretend that your wing is broken, and let Nagaina follow you away to this bush; I must go to the melon-bed, and if I go there now she will see me."

Darzee was a silly little fellow who could never hold more than one idea at a time in his head; and just because he knew that Nagaina's children were born in eggs like his own, he thought that it was bad to kill them. But his wife was a sensible bird, and she knew that cobra's eggs meant young cobras later on; so she flew out of the nest, and left Darzee to keep the babies warm, and continue his song about the death of Nag. Darzee was verylike a man in some ways.

She flem in front of Nagaina by the rubbish-heap, and cried out: "Oh, my wing is broken! The boy in the house threw a stone at me and broke it," and she fluttered desperately.

Nagaina lifted up her head and hissed, "You warned Rikki-tikki and that's why I could not kill him. But indeed, you have chosen the bad place to be lame in." And she moved toward Darzee's wife, slipping along over the dust.

"The boy broke it with a stone!" cried Darzee's wife.

"Well! When you are dead you may be glad to know that I shall settle accounts' with the boy. My husband lies on the rubbish-heap this morning, but before night the boy in the house will lie very still. What is the use of running away? I am sure that I shall catch you. Little fool, look at me!"

Darzee's wife was clever enough not to do that, for a bird who looks at a snake's eyes gets so frightened that she cannot move. Darzee's wife fluttered on, crying sorrowfully, and never leaving the ground, and Nagaina followed her.

Rikki-tikki heard them going up the path from the rubbish-heap, and he ran to the end of the melon-bed nearest the wall. There cunningly hidden, he found twenty-five eggs about the size of a hen's egg, but with white skin instead of shell.

"I was just in time," he said; for he could see the baby cobras curled up inside the eggs, and he knew that as soon as they were hatched they could each kill a man or a mongoose. He bit off the tops of the eggs as fast as he could, crushing the young cobras. At last there were only three eggs left, and Rikki-tikki began to smile to himself, when he heard Darzee's wife crying: “Rikki-tikki, I led Nagaina toward the house, and she has gone into the veranda, and – oh, come quickly – she is going to kill”.

Rikki-tikki crushed two eggs, and with the third egg in his mouth, he ran to the veranda as fast as he could. Teddy and his mother and father were there at breakfast; but Rikki-tikki saw that they were not eating. They sat still, and their faces were mhite. Nagaina had curled up by Teddy's chair, and she was swaying to and fro singing a song of triumph.

"Son of the big man that killed Nag," she hissed, "stay still. I am not ready yet. Wait a little. Keep very still, all you three. If you move I strike, and if you do not move I strike. Oh, foolish people, who killed my Nag!"

Teddy's eyes were fixed on his father, and all his father could do was to whisper, "Sit still, Teddy. You mustn't move. Teddy, keep still."

Then Rikki-tikki came up and cried: "Turn round, Nagaina; turn and fight!"

"All in good time," said she without moving her eyes. "I will settle accounts with you very soon. Look at your friends, Rikki-tikki. They are still and white; they are afraid. They dare not move, and if you come a step nearer I strike."

"Look at your eggs," said Rikki-tikki, "in the melon bed near the wall. Go and look, Nagaina."

The big snake turned half round, and saw the egg on the veranda. "Ah-h! Give it to me," she said.

Rikki-tikki put his paws on each side of the egg, and his eyes were blood-red. "What price for a snake's egg? For a young cobra? For the last – the very last of all the eggs? The ants are eating all the others near the melon- bed."

Nagaina turned around, forgetting everything but her one egg; and Rikki-tikki saw Teddy's father catch Teddy by the shoulder and drag him across the table out of reach of Nagaina.

"Tricked!' Tricked! Tricked! Rikk-tck-tck!" laughed Rikki-tikki. "The boy is safe, and it was I – I – I that caught Nag by the hood last night in the bathroom." Then he began to jump up and down, all four feet together. "He threw me to and fro, but he could not shake me off. He was dead before the big man fired the gun. I did it Rikki-tikki-tck-tck! Come then, Nagaina. Come and fight with me. You shall not be a widow long."

Nagaina saw that now she could not kill Teddy, and the egg lay between Rikki-tikki's paws. "Give me the egg, Rikki-tikki. Give me the last of my eggs, and I will go away and never come back," she said, lowering her heod.

"Yes, you will go away, and you will never come back; for. you will go to the rubbish-heap with Nag. Flght, widow! The big man has gone for his gun! Fight!"

Rikki-tikki was jumping all round Nagaina, keeping out of reach of her stroke, his little eyes were like hot coals. Nagaina gathered herself together, and flung herself at him. Rikki-tikki jumped up and backward. Again and again she struck, but each time she missed her strokes.

Rikki-tikki had forgotten the egg. It still lay on the ve-randa, and Nagaina came nearer and nearer to it, till at last, while Rikki-tikki was drawing his breath, she caught

it in her mouth, turned to the veranda steps, and flew like an arrow down the path and Rikki-tikki flew behind her.

Rikki-tikki knew that he must catch her, or all the trouble would begin again. She ran straight for the long grass by Darzee's bush, and as he was running Rikki-tikki heard Darzee still singiqg his foolish little song of triumph. But Darzee's wife was wiser. She flew out of her nest as Nagaina came along, and fluttered about Nagaina's head. Nagaina only lowered her head and went on; but when she stopped for a second Rikki-tikki jumped on her, and as she plunged into the hole where she and Nag used to live, his little white teeth hit her tail, and he went down with her – and very few mongooses, even wise and old ones, follow a cobra into its hole. It was dark in the hole; and Rikki-tikki didn't know when Nagaina would turn and strike at him, but he held on fast.

Then the grass by the mouth of the hole stopped waving, and Darzee said: "It is all over with Rikki-tikki! We must sing his death-song. Brave Rikki-tikki is dead! For Nagaina will surely kill him in the hole underground."

So he sang a very sorrowful song that he made up on the spur of the minute, and just as he got to the most sorrowful part the grass waved again, and Rikki-tikki, covered with dirt, dragged himself out of the hole leg by leg, licking his whiskers. Darzee stopped with a little shout. Rikki-tikki shook some of the dust out of his fur and sneezed. "It is all over," he said. "The widow vrill never come out again."

Rikki-tikki curled himself up in the grass and slept where he was – slept and slept till it was late in the afternoon, for he had worked hard that day.

"Now," he said, when he awoke, "I will go back to the house. Tell the Coppersmith, Darzee, and he will tell the garden that Nagaina is dead."

When Rikki came to the house, Teddy and Teddy's mother and Teddy's father came out and almost cried over him; and that night he ate all that was given to him till he could eat no more; and went to bed on Teddy's shoulder, where Teddy's mother saw him when she came to look late at night.

"He saved our lives and Teddy's life," she said to her husband. "Just think, he saved all our lives."

Rikki-tikki had a right to be proud of himself; but he did not grow too proud, and he guarded the house and the garden with tooth and jump and spring and bite, till no cobra dared to show its head inside the walls.

NOTES:

half chocked – saxїe6їyaca

the spectacle-mark – osrcoaaa Mevza

to get Rikki-tikki-tavi off his guard – ycsmmb aa

miss a stroke – npoMaxvyvbc

out of reach – Bhe

the odds are in his favour – npeїMyrqeCTBO

the bang-stick – ap. pymae

settle accounts – paapeaavsca

Exercises and Assignments on the Text

Упражнения и Задания к Тексту

Assignment # One – Задание № 1

Найдите в тексте английские эквиваленты следующих слов, выражений и оборотов:

было больно двигаться – _________________________________________;

больной и несчастный – _________________________________________;

у него жар – _________________________________________;

форма гриппа – _________________________________________;

записал время приема лекарств – _________________________________________;

темные круги под глазами – _________________________________________;

не слушал, что я читаю – _________________________________________;

немного бредил – _________________________________________;

никого не пускал в комнату – _________________________________________;

это глупости – _________________________________________;

его взгляд уже не был таким напряженным – _______________________________________;

напряжение спало – _________________________________________.

Assignment # Two – Задание № 2

look ill – _________________________________________;

________________________________________________________________________________

take smb's temperature – _________________________________________;

________________________________________________________________________________

there is something (nothing) to worry about – _________________________________________;

________________________________________________________________________________

there is some (no) danger – _________________________________________;

________________________________________________________________________________

to go to sleep – _________________________________________;

________________________________________________________________________________

cannot keep from doing smth – _________________________________________;

________________________________________________________________________________

do good – _________________________________________;

________________________________________________________________________________

be of some (much, no) importance – _________________________________________;

________________________________________________________________________________

Assignment # Three – Задание № 3

Ответьте на следующие вопросы:

1) What signs of illness could the boy's father notice when he came into the room?

When he came into the room ______________________________________________________.

2) Did the boy go to bed as his father had asked him?

_______________________________________________________________________________.

3) What did the doctor say? What did he prescribe?

_______________________________________________________________________________.

4) Find in the text the sentences which prove that something serious worried the boy.

_______________________________________________________________________________.

5) Why didn't the boy let anyone come into the room?

_______________________________________________________________________________.

6) Which of the boy's questions reviled everything to his father?

_______________________________________________________________________________.

7) What was the real reason of the boy's sufferings?

_______________________________________________________________________________.

8) In what way did father explain everything to his son?

_______________________________________________________________________________.

Assignment # Four – Задание № 4

Перескажите рассказ от лица: 1) Отца мальчика; 2) Мальчика.

Assignment # Five – Задание № 5

Assignment # Six – Задание № 6

Assignment # Seven – Задание № 7

Задайте вопросы к словам, выделенным подчеркнутым наклонным шрифтом:

1) When the doctor came he took the boy's temperature.

______________________________________________________________________________?

2) I sat at the foot of the bed and read to myself.

______________________________________________________________________________?

3) At school in France the boys told me you cannot live with forty-four degrees.

______________________________________________________________________________?

4) He had been waiting to die all day, ever since nine o'clock in the morning.

______________________________________________________________________________?

Assignment # Eight – Задание № 8

Assignment # Nine – Задание № 9

Составьте диалоги, используя приведенные ниже слова и выражения:

it aches to move

have a headache

look very sick

have a fever

take one's temperature

give medicines

avoid smth.

Assignment # Ten – Задание № 10

Assignment # Eleven – Задание № 11

Assignment # Twelve – Задание № 12

“An apple a day keeps a doctor away”.

“Health is above wealth”.

“Early to bed and early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise”.

Unit 4

THE GREEN DOCTOR by O. Henry

Comprehension:

1) How did the mongoose get into Teddy's house?

2) What did the little bird tell Rikki about Nag and Nagaina?

3) What was Nag and Nagaina's plan?

4) What happened in the bathroom?

5) How did Rikki settle accounts with Nagaina?

6) Prove that the mongoose had a real right to be proud of himself.

The Fisherman and His Soul

O. Wilde

Every evening the young Fisherman went to sea and threw his nets into the water.

Every evening he went to sea, and one evening the net was so heavy that he could not draw it into the boat. And he laughed, and said to himself, "Surely I have caught all the fish of the sea, or some monster," and he put forth all his strength and drew the net to the surface of the water.

But there were no fish at all in it, nor any monster, but only a little Mermaid, who was fast asleep.

Her wet hair was like gold, her body was as white as ivory, and her tail was of silver and pearl, and like seashells were her ears, and her lips were like sea-coral.

She was so beautiful that the young Fisherman drew the net close to him, and embraced her. And when he touched her, she gave a cry, and awoke, and looked at him in terror and tried to escape. But he held her so tight that she could not free herself.

And when she saw that she could in no way' escape from him, she began to weep, and said, "I ask you to let me go, for I am the only daughter of a King, and my father is very old and all alone."

But the young Fisherman answered, "I shall let you go if you promise that whenever I call you, you will come and sing to me, for the fish like to listen to the songs of the Sea-folk, and so my nets will be full."

"Will you indeed let me go if I promise you this?" asked the Mermaid.

"Indeed I will let you go," said the young Fisherman.

So she promised him, and swore it by the oath of the Sea-folk' and he loosened his arms, and let her go, and she sank down into the water, trembling with a strange fear.

Every evening the young Fisherman went to sea, and called to the Mermaid, and she rose out of the water and sang a marve1lous song to him.

And as she sang, all the fish came from the depth to listen to her, and the young Fisherman threw his nets and caught them. And when his boat was full, the Mermaid smiled at him and sank down into the sea.

Yet, she never came so near to him that he could touch her. He often called to her and begged her, but she did not come near him, and when he tried to seize her she sank down into the water, and he did not see her again that day. And each day the sound of her voice became sweeter to his ears. So sweet was her voice that he forgot his nets and his boat. With eyes dim with wonder, he sat idly in his boat and listened, and listened, till night came.

And one evening he called to her, and said: "Little Mermaid, little Mermaid, I love you. Let me be your bridegroom, for I love you."

But the Mermaid shook her head. "You have a human soul," she answered. "Send away your soul and I shall nothing, and he hardly knew whether to be relieved or disappointed.

The following morning was wet – so wet that even the most ardent golfer might have his enthusiasm damped.

Jack rose at the last possible moment, ate his breakfast, ran for the train and again eagerly looked through the papers. Still no mention of any tragic discovery having been made. The evening papers told the same tale.

"Queer," said Jack to himself, "but there it is. Probably some little boys having a game together up in the woods."

He was out early the following morning. As he passed the cottage, he noted out of the tail of his eye that the girj was out in the garden again weeding. Evidently a habit of hers. He did a particularly good shot, and hoped that she had noticed it.

"Just five and twenty past seven," he murmured. "I wonder –"

The words were frozen on his lips. From behind him came the same cry which had so startled him before. A woman's voice, in distress.

"Murder – help! murder!"

Jack raced back. The pansy girl was standing by the gate. She looked startled, and Jack ran up to her triumphantly, crying out: "You heard it this time, anyway."

Her eyes were wide with some emotion and he noticed that she shrank back from him as he approached, and even glanced back at the house, as though she was about to run for shelter.

She shook her head, staring at him.

"I heard nothing at all," she said wonderingly.

It was as though she had struck him a blow betweenthe eyes. Her sincerity was so evident that he could not disbelieve her. Yet he couldn't have imagined it – he couldn't – he – couldn't –…

He heard her voice speaking gently – almost with sympathy. "You have had the shell-shock', yes?"

In a flash he understood her look of fear, her glance back at the house. She thought that he suffered from delusions...

And then, like a douche of cold water, came the horrible thought, was she right? Did he suffer from delusions?

In horror of the thought he turned and stumbled away without saying a word. The girl watched him go, sighed, shook her head, and bent down to her weeding again.

Jack tried to reason matters out with himself.

"If I hear the damned thing again at twenty-five minutes past seven," he said to himself, "it's clear that I've got hold of a hallucination of some sort. But I won't hear it."

He was nervous all that day, and went to bed early determined to put the matter to the proof the following morning.

As was perhaps natural in such a case, he remained awake half the night, and finally overslept himself. It was twenty past seven by the time he was clear of the hotel and running towards the links. He realised that he would not be able to get to the fatal spot by twenty-five past, but surely, if the voice were a hallucination pure and simple, he would hear it anywhere. He ran on, his eyes fixed on the hands of his watch.

Twenty-five past. From far off came the echo of a woman's voice, calling. The words could not be distinguished, but he was convinced that it was the same cry he had heard before, and that it came from the same spot, somewhere in the neighbourhood of the cottage.

Strangely enough, that fact reassured him. It might, after all, be a hoax'. Unlikely as it seemed, the girl herself might be playing a trick on him.

The girl was in the garden as usual. She looked up this morning, and when he raised his cap to her, said good morning rather shyly... She looked, he thought, lovelier than ever.

"Nice day, isn't it?" Jack called out cheerily.

"Yes, indeed, it is lovely."

"Good for the garden, I expect?"

The girl smiled a little.

"Alas, no! For my flowers the rain is needed. See, they are all dried up. Monsieur is much better today, I can see."

Her encouraging tone annoyed Jack intensely.

"I'm perfectly well," he said irritably.

"That is good then," returned the girl quickly and soothingly.

Jack had the irritating feeling that she didn't believe him.

He played a few more holes and hurried back to breakfast.

As he ate it, he was conscious, not for the first time, of the close scrutiny of a man who sat at the table next to him. He was a man of middle-age, with a powerful forceful face. He had a small dark beard and very piercing grey eyes. His name, Jack knew, was Lavington, and he had heard vague rumours' as to his being a well-known medical specialist, but as Jack was not a frequenter of Harley Street, the name had told little or nothing to him.

But this morning he was very conscious of the quiet observation under which he was being kept, and it frightened him a little. Was his secret written plainly in his face for all to see?

Jack shivered at the thought. Was it true? Was he really going mad? Was the whole thing a hallucination, or was it a gigantic hoax?

And suddenly a very simple way of testing the solution occurred to him He had hitherto been alone on the course. Supposing someone else was with him? Then ane out of three things might happen. The voice might be silent. They might both hear it. Or – he only.might hear it.

That evening he proceeded to carry his plan into effect. Lavington was the man he wanted with him. They fell into conversation easily enough – the older man might have been waiting for such an opening. It was clear that for some reason or other Jack interested him. The latter was able to come quite easily and naturally to the suggestion that they might play a few holes together before breakfast. The arrangement was made for the following morning.

They started out a little before seven. It was a perfect day, still and cloudless, but not too warm. The doctor was playing well, Jack awfully. He kept glancing at his watch.

The girl, as usual, was in the garden as they passed. She did not look up as they passed.

It was exactly twenty-five minutes past seven.

"If you didn't mind waiting a minute," he said, "I think I'll have a smoke."

They paused a little while. Jack filled and lit the pipe with fingers that trembled a little in spite of himself. An enormous weight seemed to have lifted from his mind.

"Lord, what a good day it is," he remarked. "Go on, Lavington, your shot."

And then it came. Just at the very instant the doctor was hitting. A woman's voice, high and agonised.

"Murder – Help! Murder!"

The pipe fell from Jack's nerveless hand, as he turned round in the direction of the sound, and then, remembering, gazed breathlessly at his companion.

Lavington was looking down the course, shading his eyes.

He had heard nothing.

The world seemed to spin round with Jack. He took a step or two and fell. When he recovered himself, he was lying on the ground, and Lavington was bending over him.

"There, take it easy now, take it easy."

"What did I do?"

"You fainted, young man – or gave a very good try at it."

"My God!" said Jack, and groaned.

"What's the trouble? Something on your mind?"

"I'll tell you in one minute, but I'd like to ask you something first."

The doctor lit his own pipe and settled himself on the bank. "Ask anything you like," he said comfortably.

"You've been watching me for the last day or two.

Why?"

Lavington's eyes twinkled a little.

"That's rather an awkward question. A cat can look at a king, you know."

"Don't put me off. I'm earnest. Why was it? I've a vital reason for asking."

Lavington's face grew serious.

"I'll answer you quite honestly. I recognised in you all

the signs of a man who is under acute strain', and it intrigued me what that strain could be."

"I can tell you that easily enough," said Jack bitterly.

"I'm going mad."

He stopped dramatically, but as his statement did not seem to arouse the interest he expected, he repeated it.

"I tell you I'm going mad."

"Very curious," murmured Lavington. "Very curious indeed."

“I suppose that's all it does seem to you. Doctors are so damned callous”.

“To begin with, although I have taken my degree, I do not practise medicine. Strictly speaking, I am not a doctor – not a doctor of the body, that it”.

Jack looked at him keenly.

"Of the mind?"

"Yes, in a sense, but more truly I call myself a doctor of the soul.""O}1!"

"I see you do not quite believe me, and yet you've got to come to terms with the soul, you know, young man. I can assure you that it really did strike me as very curious that such a well-balanced and perfectly normal young man as yourself should suffer from the delusion that he was going out of his mind."

"I'm out of my mind, all right. Absolutely mad."

"You will forgive me for saying so, but I don't believe it."

"I suffer from delusions."

"After dinner?"

"No, in the morning."

"Can't be done," said the doctor.

"I tell you I hear things that no one else hears."

"It's quite possible that the delusions of to-day may be the proved scientific facts of to-morrow."

In spite of himself, Lavington's matter-of-fact manner was having its effect upon Jack. He felt awfully cheered. The doctor looked at him attentively for a minute or two and then nodded.

"That's better," he said. "The trouble with you young fellows is that you're so sure nothing can exist outside your own philosophy that you get the wind up when something occurs that may change your opinion. Let's hear your grounds for believing that you're going mad, and we'll decide whether or not to lock you up afterwards."

As faithfully as he could, Jack told the whole series of occurrences.

"But what I can't understand," he ended, "is why this morning it should come at half past seven – five minutes late."

Lavington thought for a minute or two.

"What's the time now by your watch?" he asked.

"Quarter to eight," replied Jack, consulting it.

"That's simple enough, then. Mine says twenty to eight.

Your watch is five minutes fast. That's a very interesting and important point – to me. in fact, it's invaluable."

"In what way?"

Jack was beginning to get interested.

"Well, the obvious explanation is that on the first morning you did hear some such cry – may have been a joke, may not. On the following mornings, you suggestioned yourself to hear it at exactly the same time."

"I'm sure I didn't."

"Not consciously", of course, but the subconscious plays us some funny tricks, you know. If it were a case of suggestion, you would have heard the cry at twenty-five minutes past seven by yourw atch,a ndy ouc ouldn ever have heard it when the time, as you thought, was past."

"Well, then?"

"Well – it's obvious, isn't it? This cry for help occupies a perfectly definite place and time in space."

"Yes, but why should I be the one to hear it? I don't believe in ghosts, spirits", and all the rest of it. Why should I hear the damned thing?"

"Ah! that we can't tell at present. Some people see and hear things that other people don't – we don't know why. Some day, no doubt, we shall know why you hear this thing and I and the girl don't."

"But what am I going to do?" asked Jack.

"Well, my young friend, you are going to have a good breakfast and get off to the city without worrying your head further about things you don't understand. I, on the other hand, am going to look about, and see what I can find out about that cottage back there. That's where the mystery centres."

Jack rose to his feet.

"Right, sir, I'm on, but I say –"

MISSED MISSED MISSED

Jack flushed awkwardly.

"I'm sure the girl's all right," he muttered.

Lavington looked amused.

"You didn't tell me she was a pretty girl! Well, cheer up, I think the mystery started before her time."

Jack arrived home. Now he believed Lavington completely.

He found his new friend waiting for him in the hall when he came down for dinner, and the doctor suggested that they should dine together at the same table.

"Any news, sir?" asked Jack anxiously.

"I've collected the life history of Heather Cottage all right. It was tenanted first by an old gardener and his wife. The old man died, and the old woman went to her daughter. Then a builder got it, and modernised it with great success, selling it to a city gentleman who used it for week-ends. About a year ago, he sold it to some people called Turner – Mr. and Mrs. Turner. They seem to have been rather a curious couple from all I can make out". They lived very quietly, seeing no one, and hardly ever going outside the cottage garden. The local rumour goes that they were afraid of something. And then suddenly one day they departed and never came back. The agents here got a letter from Mr. Turner, written from London, instructing him to sell up the place as quickly as possible. The furniture was sold off, and the house itself was sold. The people who have it now are a French professor and his daughter. They have been there just ten days."

Jack digested this in silence.

"I don't see that that gets us anywhere," he said at last.

"Do you?"

"I rather want to know more about the Turners," said Lavington quietly. "They left very early in the morning, you remember. As far as I can make out, nobody actually saw them go. Mr. Turner has been seen since – but I can't find anybody who has seen Mrs. Turner."

Jack paled.

"It can't be – you don't mean."

"Don't excite yourself, young man. Let us drop the subject – for to-night at least," he suggested.

Jack agreed readily enough, but did not find it so easyto vanish the subject from his own mind.

During the week-end, he made inquiries" of his own,but succeeded in getting little more than the doctor had done. He had definitely given up playing golf before breakfast.

On getting back one day, Jack was informed that a young lady was waiting to see him. To his surprise it proved to be the girl of the garden – the pansy girl, as he always called her in his own mind. She was very nervous and confused.

"You will forgive me, Monsieur, for coming to see you like this? But there is something I want to tell you."

She looked round uncertainly.

"Come in here," said Jack.

"Now, sit down, Miss, Miss…"

"Marchaud, Monsieur. Felise Marchaud."

"Sit down, Mademoiselle Marchaud, and tell me all about it."

Felise sat down obediently. She was dressed in dark green to-day, and the beauty and charm of the proud little face was more evident than ever. Jack's heart beat faster as he sat down beside her.

"It is like this," explained Felise. "We have been here but a short time, and from the beginning we hear the house – our so sweet little house – is haunted". No servant will stay in it.

This talk of ghosts, I think it is all folly" – that is until four days ago. Monsieur, four nights running, I have had the same dream. A lady stands there – she is beautiful, tall and very f air. In her hands she holds a blue china jar. She is distressed – very distressed, and continually she holds out her jar to me, as though asking me to do something with it. But alas!" She cannot speak, and I – I do not know what she asks. That was the dream for the first two nights – but the night before last, there was more of it. She and the blue jar faded away", and suddenly I heard her voice crying out – I know it is her voice, you understand – and, oh! Monsieur, the words she says are those you spoke to me that morning. "Murder – Help! Murder!" I awoke in terror. I say to myself – it is a nightmare", the words you heard are an accident. But last night the dream came again. Monsieur, what is it? You too have heard. What shall we do?"

Felise's face was terrified. Her small hands clasped themselves together, and she gazed at Jack. The latter pretended to look calm.

"That's all right, Mademoiselle Marchaud. You mustn't worry. I tell you what I'd like you to do, if you don't mind, repeat the whole story to a friend of mine who is staying here, a Dr. Lavington."

Felise showed her willingness; and Jack went off in search of Lavington. He returned with him a few minutes later.

Lavington gave the girl a keen scrutiny as he acknowledged Jack's hurried introductions. With a few reassuring words, he soon put the girl at her ease, and he, in his turn, listened attentively to her story.

"Very curious," he said, when she had finished. "You have told your father of this?"

Felise shook her head.

"I have not liked to worry him. He is very ill still" – her eyes filled with tears – "I keep from him anything that might excite or agitate him."

"I understand," said Lavington kindly. "And I am glad you came to us, Mademoiselle Marchaud. Hartington here, as you know, had an experience something similar to yours. I think I may say that we are well on the track now. There is nothing else that you can think of?"

Felise gave a quick movement.

"Of course! How stupid I am. It is the point of the whole story. Look, Monsieur, at what I found at the back of one of the cupboards where it had slipped behind the shelf."

She held out to them a dirty piece of drawing-paper on which was made in water colours a sketch of a woman. It was a mere sketch, but the likeness was probably good enough. She was standing by a table on which was standing a blue china jar.

"I only found it this morning," explained Felise. "Monsieur le docteur, that is the face of the moman I saw in my dream, and that is the identical blue jar."

"Extraordinary," commented Lavington. "The key to the mystery is evidently the blue jar. It looks like a Chinese jar to me, probably an old one. It seems to have a curious raised pattern over it."

"It is Chinese," declared Jack. "I have seen an exactly similar one in my uncle's collection – he is a great collector of Chinese porcelain, you know, and I remember noticing a jar just like this a short time ago."

"The Chinese jar," mused Lavington. He remained a minute or two lost in thought, then raised his head suddenly, a curious light shining in his eyes. "Hartington, how long has your uncle had that jar?"

"How long? I really don't know."

"Think. Did he buy it lately?"

"I don't know – yes, I believe he did."

"Less than two months ago? The Turners left Heather Cottage just two months ago."

"Yes, I believe it was."

"Your uncle attends country sales sometimes?"

"He always goes to sales."

"Then there is a probability that he bought this particular piece of porcelain at the sale of the Turners’ things. A curious coincidence. Hartington, you must find out from your uncle at once where he bought this jar."

Jack's face fell.

"I'm afraid that's impossible. Uncle George is away on the Continent. I don't even know where to write to him."

"How long will he be away?"

"Three weeks to a month at least."

There was a silence. Felise sat looking anxiously from one man to the other.

"Is there nothing that we can do?" she asked.

"Yes, there is one thing," said Lavington. "It is unusual, perhaps, but I believe that it will succeed. Hartington, you must get hold of that jar. Bring it down here, and, if Mademoiselle permits, we will spend a night in Heather Cottage, taking the blue jar with us."

"What do you think will happen?" Jack asked uneasily.

"I have not the slightest idea – but I honestly believe that the mystery will be solved.

Felise clasped her hands. "It is a wonderful idea," she exclaimed.

Her eyes were alight with enthusiasm. Jack did not feel nearly so enthusiastic – in fact, he was afraid of it, but nothing would have forced him to admit the fact before Felise. The doctor acted as though his suggestion were the most natural one in the world.

"When can you get the jar?" asked Felise, turning to Jack.

"To-morrow," said the latter, unwillingly.

Re went to his uncle's house the following evening and took away the jar in question. He was more than ever convinced when he saw it again that it was the identical one pictured in the water colour sketch.

It wase leveno 'clockw henh ea ndL avingtona rrived at Heather Cottage. Felise was on the look-out for them, and opened the door softly before they had time to knock.

"Come in," she whispered. "My father is asleep upstairs, and we must not wake him. I have made coffee for you in here."

She led the way into a small cosy sitting-room.

Jack unwrapped the Chinese jar. Felise gasped as her eyes fell on it.

"But yes, but yes," she cried eagerly. "That is it – I would know it anywhere."

Meanwhile Lavington was making his own preparations. He removed all the things from a small table and set it in the middle of the room. Round it he placed three chairs. Then, taking the blue jar from Jack, he placed it in the centre of the table.

"Now," he said, "we are ready. Turn off the lights, and let us sit round the table in the darkness."

The others obeyed him. Lavington's voice spoke again out fo the darkness.

"Think of nothing – or of everything. Do not force the mind. It is possible that one of us has mediumistic powers. If so, that person will go into a trance. Remember, there is nothing to fear. Cast out fear" from your hearts, and drift-drift."

It was not fear that Jack felt – it was panic. And he was almost certain that Felise felt the same way. Suddenly he heard her voice, low and terrified.

"Something terrible is going to happen. I feel it."

"Cast out fear," said Lavington. "Do not fight against the influence."

The darkness seemed to get darker and the silence more acute. And nearer and nearer came that indefinable sense of menace.

Jack felt himself choking – stifling – the evil thing was very near.

And then the moment of conflict passed. He was drifting, drifting down stream – his lids closed – peace – darkness…

Jack stirred slightly"-'-. His head was heavy – heavy as lead. Where was he?

Sunshine ... birds ... He lay staring up at the sky.

Then it all came back to him. The little sitting-room. Felise and the doctor. What had happened?

He sat up and looked round him. He was lying not far from the cottage. No one else was near him. He took out his watch. To his surprise it registered half past twelve.

Jack struggled to his feet", and ran as fast as he could in the direction of the cottage. They must have been alarmed by his failure to come out of the trance, and carried him out into the open air.

Arrived at the cottage, he knocked loudly on the door. But there was no answer, and no signs of life about it. They must have gone off to get help. Or else – Jack felt an indefinable fear invade him. What had happened last night?

He made his way back to the hotel as quickly as possible. He was about to make some inquiries at the office, when he got a colossal punch in the ribs which nearly knocked him off his feet. Turning in some indignation, he saw a whitehaired old gentleman merrily laughing.

"Didn't expect me, my boy. Didn't expect me, hey?" said this individual.

"Why, Uncle George, I thought you were miles away – it Italy somewhere."

"Ah! but I wasn't. Landed at Dover last night. Thought I'd motor up to town and stop here to see you on the way. And what did I find. Out all night, hey? Nice goings on" "Uncle George," Jack checked him firmly. "I've got the most extraordinary story to tell you. I dare say you won't believe it."

"I dare say I shan't," laughed the old man. "But do your best, my boy."

"But I must have something to eat," continued Jack. "I'm hungry."

He led the way to the dining-room, and over a substantial meal, he told the whole story.

"And God knows what's become of them," he ended.

His uncle seemed on the verge of apoplexy.

"The jar," he managed to cry out at last. “THE BLUE JAR!” What's become of that?"

Jack stared at him without understanding, but under the torrent of words that followed he began to-understand.

It came with a rush: "Worth ten thousand pounds at least – offer from Hoggenheimer, the American millionaire – only one of its kind in the world – what have you done with my BLUE JAR?"

Jack rushed from the room. He must find Lavington. The young lady at the office eyed him coldly.

"Dr. Lavington left late last night – by motor. He left a note for you."

Jack tore it open. It was short and to the point.

'My Dear Young Friend, Is the day of the supernatural over? Kindest regards from Felise, invalid father, and myself. We have twelve hours start, which is quite enough.

Yours ever, Ambrose Lavington, Doctor of the Soul'

NOTES:

topped drive – senpaamrbssifc

petrified – a oqeneseHMN

course – sp. naowapza paa

shrank back from him – ovnpasyaa

shellshock – KOHTp3NB

delusion – raїmoqeїaqїa

hoax – o6Mas, myvza

rumours – cayxe

acute strain – cmrr

damned callous – sepvoacrce

you suggestioned yourself – aїi y6epeїe

not consciously – nopcoasaveaaїo

spirits – pyxї

from all I can make out – їaczoabzo

inquiries – cnpaBKN

folly – rїynOCTb

the house is haunted – B pOMC

Alas! – Vabi!

faded away – paccvaaa

nightmare – KOIIIMap

Cast out fear – ov6pocbve cvpax

stirred slightly – czrerza

struggled to his feet – c vpypoM

on the verge of apoplexy – ea rpaze ypapa

Comprehension:

1) What happened to Jack Hartington one morning?

2) Why was the young man afraid that he was getting mad?

3) Whom did he make acquiantance with?

4) Why did he fully trust Lavington?

5) Why did Felise come to Jack one day and what did she tell him about?

6) In what way was the blue jar connected with her story?

7) What happened at night?

8) Who revealed the truth to Jack Hartington?

The Flock of Geryon by A. Christie

"I really apologize for bothering you, M. Poirot."

Miss Carnaby leaned forward, looking anxiously into Poirot's face. She said: "You do remember me, don't you?"

Hercule Poirot smiled. He said: "I remember you as one of the most successful criminals that I have ever met."

"Oh dear me, M. Poirot, must you really say such things? You were so kind to me. Emily and I often talk about you, and if we see anything about you in the paper we cut it out at once. As for Augustus, we have taught him a new trick. We say, “Die for M. Hercule Poirot”, and he goes down and lies like a log."

"I'm gratified," said Poirot. "He is so clever. But what has brought you here, Miss Carnaby?"

Miss Carnaby's nice round face grew worried and sad. She said: "Oh M. Poirot, I was going to consult you. I have been anxious lately about a friend of mine. Of course, you may say it is all an old maid's fancy – just imagination."

"I do not think you would imagine things, Miss Carnaby. Tell me what worries you."

"Well, I have a friend, a very dear friend, though I have not seen very much of her lately. Her name is Emmeline Clegg. She married a man and he died a few years ago leaving her a big sum of money. She was unhappy and lonely after his death and I am afraid she is in some ways a rather foolish woman. Religion, M. Poirot, can be a great help and consolation – but not these odd sects there are so many around. They have a kind of emotional appeal but sometimes I have very grave doubts as to whether there are any true religious feelings behind them at all."

"You think your friend has become a victim of a sect of this kind?"

"I do. Oh! I certainly do. The Flock of the Shepherd,'

they call themselves. Their headquarters is in Devonshire – a very love}y estate by the sea. The whole sect centres round the head of the movement, the Great Shepherd, he is called. A Dr. Andersen. A very handsome man, I believe."

"Which is attractive to the women, yes?"

"I am afraid so," Miss Carnaby sighed.

"Are the members of the sect mostly women?"

"At least three quarters of them, I think. It is upon the women that the success of the movement depends and – and on the funds they supply."

"Ah," said Poirot. "Now I see. Frankly, you think the whole thing is a ramp?"

"Frankly, M. Poirot, I do. And another thing worries me. I know that my poor friend is so devoted to this reli- gion that she has recently made a will leaving all her property to the movement. What really worries me is."

MISSED MISSED MISSED MISSED

"Yes, go on”.

"Several very rich women have been among the devotees. In the last year three of them have died."

"Leaving all their money to this sect?"

Poirot nodded thoughtfully. Miss Carnaby hurried on: "Of course I've no right to suggest anything at all. From what I have been able to find out, there was nothing wrong about any of these deaths. One, I believe, was pneumonia following influenza and another was attributed to gastric ulcer. There were absolutely no suspicious circumstances and the deaths did not take place in Devonshire, but at their own homes. I've no doubt it is quite all right, but all the same – I – well – I shouldn't like anything to happen to Emmie."

Poirot was silent for some minutes. Then he said:

"Will you give me, or will you find out for me, the names and addresses of these members of the sect who have recently died?"

"Yes indeed, M. Poirot."

Poirot said slowly: "Mademoiselle, I think you are a woman of great courage and determination. Will you be able to do a piece of work that may be associated with considerable danger?"

"I should like nothing better," said the adventurous Miss Carnaby.

Poirot said warningly:

"If there is a risk at all, it will be a great one. You understand – either this is all a mare's nest' or it is serious.

To find out which it is, it will be necessary for you yourself to become a member of the Great Flock. You'll pretend to be a rich woman with no definite aim in life. You'll allow your friend Emmeline to persuade you to go down to Devonshire. And there you will fall a victim to the magnetic power of Dr. Andersen. I think I can leave that to you?"

Miss Carnaby smiled modestly. She murmured:

"I think I can manage that all right."

"Well, my friend, what have you got for me? Have you learned anything about this Dr. Andersen?"

Chief Inspector Japp looked thoughtfully at Poirot. Hesaid:"I've looked up Dr. Andersen's past history. He was a promising chemist but was expelled from some German University. He was always keen on the study of Oriental Myths and Religions and has written various aricles on the subject – some of the articles sound pretty crazy to me."

"So it is possible that he is a genuine fanatic?"

"It seems quite likely."

"What about those names and addresses I gave you?"

"Nothing suspicious there. Miss Everitte died of ulcerative colitis. Mrs. Lloyd died of pneumonia. Lady Western died of tuberculosis. Had suffered from it many years ago. Miss Lee died of typhoid somewhere in the north of England. There is nothing to connect these deaths withthe Great Flock or with Andersen's place down in Devonshire. Must be no more than coincidence."

Hercule Poirot sighed. He said: "And yet, mon cher, I have a feeling that this Dr. Andersen is the Monster Geryon whom it is my mission to destroy."

Hercule Poirot said: "You must obey my instructions very carefully, Miss Carnaby. You understand?"

"Oh yes, Mr. Poirot. You may rely on me.

"You have spoken of your intention to benefit the sect?"

"Yes, Mr. Poirot, I spoke to the Master – excuse me, to Dr. Andersen, myself. I told him very emotionally how I had come to Flock and remained to believe. Really it seemed quite natural to say all these things. Dr. Andersen, you know, has a lot of magnetic charm."

"So I think," said Hercule Poirot dryly.

"His manner was most convincing. One really feels he doesn't care about money at all. "Give what you can," he said smiling. "It does not matter. You are one of the Flock just the same." "Oh, Dr. Andersen," I said, "I am not poor at all." And then I explained that I had inherited a considerable amount of money from a distant relative and that I wanted to leave in my will all I had to the Brotherhood. I explained that I had no near relatives."

"And he accepted the gift?"

"He was very indifferent about it. Said it would be many long years before I died, that he could tell I had a long life of joy in front of me. He really speaks most movingly."

"So it seems."

Poirot's tone was dry. He went on: "You mentioned your health?"

"Yes, Mr. Poirot, I told him I had lung trouble, though why it is necessary for me to say that I am ill when my lungs are as sound as a bell I really cannot see."

"Be sure it is necessary. You mentioned your friend?"

"Yes. I told him strictly confidentially that dear Emmeline, besides the fortune she had inherited from her husband, would inherit an even larger sum shortly from an aunt who was deeply attached to her."

"Good. That must keep Mrs. Clegg safe for some time."

"Oh, Mr. Poirot, do you really think there is anything wrong?"

"That is what I am going to find out. Have you met a Mr. Cole at the Sanctuary?"

"There was a Mr. Cole there last time I went down to Devonshire. A most extraordinary man. He wears grass-green shorts and eats nothing but cabbage. He is a very ardent believer."

"All progresses well – I make you my compliments on the work you have done – all is now set for the Autumn Festival."

On the afternoon preceding the Festival Miss Carnaby met Hercule Poirot in a small restaurant. Miss Carnaby was flushed and even more breathless than usual.

Poirot asked several questions to which she replied only "yes" or "no". Then he said: "Good. You know what you have to do?"

There was a moment's pause before Miss Carnaby said in a rather odd voice:

"I know what you told me, Mr. Poirot."

"Very good."

Then Amy Carnaby said clearly and distinctly:

"But I am not going to do it."

Hercule Poirot stared at her. Miss Carnaby rose to her feet. Her voice was fast and hysterical.

"You sent me here to spy on Dr. Andersen. You suspected him of all sorts of things. But he is a wonderful man – a great Teacher. I believe in him heart and soul. And I am not going to do your spying work any more, M. Poirot. I am one of the Sheep of the Shepherd. And I'll pay for my tea myself."

With these words Miss Carnaby threw down one shilling and rushed out of the restaurant.

The waitress had to ask him twice before Poirot realised that she was giving him the bill. He met the curious stare of an unfriendly looking man at the next table, flushed, paid the bill and went out.

The Sheep were assembled for the traditional festival.

The Festival took place in the white concrete building called by the Sheep the Sacred Fold. Here the devotees assembled just before the setting of the sun. They wore sheep-skin cloaks and had sandals on their feet. Their arms were bare. In the centre of the Fold on a raised platform stood Dr. Andersen. The big man, golden-haired and blue-eyed, with his fair beard and handsome profile had never seemed more magnificent. He was dressed in a green robe and carried a shepherd's crook of gold.

The ritual questions and answers had been chanted.

Then the Great Shepherd said: "Are you prepared for the Sacrament?"

“We are”.

“Shut your eyes and hold out your right arm”.

The crowd obediently shut their eyes. Miss Carnaby like the rest held her arm out in front of her. The Great Shepherd, magnificent in his green robe, moved along the waiting lines... He stood by Miss Carnaby. His hands touched her arm…

"No, you won't do it!"

Mr. Cole aided by another devotee grasped the hand of the Great Shepherd who was struggling to get himself free. In rapid professional tones, the former Mr. Cole was saying: "Dr. Andersen, I have here a warrant for your arrest."

There were other figures now at the door of the Sheep Fold – blue uniformed figures.

Someone cried, "It's the police. They're taking the Master away. They're taking the Master..."

Everyone was shocked – horrified... To them the Great Shepherd was a martyr, suffering, as all great teachers, from the ignorance and persecution of the outside world.

Meanwhile Detective Inspector Cole was carefully packing up the syringe that had fallen from the Great Shepherd's hand.

"My brave colleague!"

Poirot shook Miss Carnaby warmly by the hand and introduced her to Chief Inspector Japp.

"First class work, Miss Carnaby," said Chief Inspector Japp. "We couldn't have done it without you."

"Oh dear!" Miss Carnaby was flattered. "It's so kind of you to say so. And I'm afraid, that I've really enjoyed it all. The excitement, you knovr, and playing my part. I really felt I was one of those foolish women."

"That's where your success lay," said Japp. "You were very genuine. Otherwise you wouldn't have been hypnotised by that gentleman. He's a pretty smart scoundrel."

Miss Carnaby turned to Poirot.

"That was a terrible moment in the restaurant. I didn't know what to do. It was such a shock. Just when we had been talking confidentially I saw in the glass that Lipscomb, who keeps the Lodge of the Sanctuary, was sitting at the table behind me. I don't know now if it was an accident or if he had actually followed me. I had to do the best I could in this situation and hope that you would understand."

Poirot smiled.

"I did understand. There was only one person sitting near enough to overhear anything we said and as soon as I left the restaurantI followed him. He went straight back to the Sanctuary. So I understood that I could rely on you and that you would not let me down – but I was afraid because it increased the danger for you."

"Was – was there really danger? What was there in the syringe?"

Japp said: "Will you explain or shall I?"

Poirot said gravely:

"Mademoiselle, this Dr. Andersen devised a scheme of exploitation and murder – scientific murder. Most of his life has been spent in bacteriological research. Under a dif ferent name he has a chemical laboratory in Shef field. There he makes cultures of various bacilli. It was his practice at the Festivals to inject into his followers a small but sufficient dose of Cannabis Indica – which is also known by the name of Hashish. It gives the sensation of great and pleasurable enjoyment. It bound his devotees to him. These were the Spiritual Joys that he promised them."

"Most remarkable," said Miss Carnaby. "Really a most remarkable sensation."

Hercule Poirot nodded.

"That was the secret of his popularity – a dominating personality, the power of creating mass hysteria and the reactions produced by this drug. But he had a second aim in view."

"Lonely women made wills leaving their money to the Cult. One by one, these women died. Without being too technical I will try to explain. It is possible to make intensified cultures of certain bacteria. The bacillus coli communis, for instance, is the cause of ulcerative colitis. Typhoid bacilli can be introduced into the system. So can the Pneumococcus. You realize the cleverness of the man? These deaths would occur in different parts of the country, with different doctors attending them and without any risk of arousing suspicion.

"He's a devil, if there ever was one," said Chief Inspector Japp.

Poirot went on.

"By my orders, you told him that you suffered from tuberculosis. There was a tuberculin in the syringe when Cole arrested him. It is harmless to a healthy person but stimulates any old tubercular lesion into activity. Since you were a healthy person it would not have harmed you, that is why I asked you to tell him you had suffered from a tubercular trouble. I was afraid that even now he might choose some other germ, but I respected your courage and I had to let you take the risk."

"Oh, that's all right," said Miss Carnaby brightly. "I don't mind taking risks. I'm only frightened of bulls in fields and things like that. But have you enough evidence to convict this dreadful person?"

Japp grinned. "Plenty of evidence," he said. "We've got his laboratory and his cultures and the whole equipment."

Poirot said: "It is possible, I think, that he has committed a long line of murders."

Miss Carnaby sighed.

"I was thinking," she said, "of a marvellous dream I had. I arranged the whole world so beautifully! No wars, no poverty, no diseases, no cruelty…"

"It must have been a fine dream," said Japp enviously.

Miss Carnaby jumped up. She said: "I must get home. Emily has been so anxious. And dear Augustus has been missing me terribly, I hear."

Hercule Poirot said with a smile:

"He was afraid, perhaps, that like him, you were going to 'die for Hercule Poirot'!"

NOTES:

"The Flock of Geryon" – "Cvapo Fepeosa". Me@

The Flock of the Shepherd – Cvapo

a mare's nest – "6pep CNBO

who keeps the Lodge of the Sanctuary – apscspavaex

Comprehension:

1) What did Miss Carnaby tell Poirot about her friend Emmeline Clegg?

2) What was it that worried Miss Carnaby most?

3) What was Poirot's plan?

4) Why did Miss Carnaby behave in such a way when she was sitting with Poirot in the restaurant?

5) What was the real secret of the Great Shepherd?

6) Why did Poirot call his murders scientific murders?

Blue Lenses

D. du Maurier

This was the day for the bandages' to be removed and the blue lenses fitted'. Marda West put her hand up to her eyes and felt the bandage. The days had passed into weeks since her operation, and she had lain there suffering no physical discomfort, but only the darkness, a feeling that the world and the life around was passing her by. As for the operation itself, it had been successful.

"You will see," the surgeon' told her, "more clearly than ever before."

But always during these days of waiting, she had the fear that everybody at the hospital was being too kind. Therefore, when at last it happened, when at his evening visit the surgeon said, "Your lenses will be fitted tomorrow," surprise was greater than joy. She could not say anything, and he had lef t the room before she could thank him. "You won't know you've got them, Mrs West" – the day-nurse assured her, leaving.

Such a calm, comfortable voice, and the way she held the glass to the patient's lips. These things gave confidence that she could not lie.

"Tomorrow I shall see you", said Marda West, and the nurse, with the cheerful laugh answered, "Yes, I'll give you your first shock."

"Aren't you feeling excited?" This was the low, soft voice of her night-nurse, who, more than the rest of them, understood what she had endured4. Nurse Brand was a person of sunlight, of bearing in fresh flowers, of admitting visitors.

Meals, too, even the dullest of lunches were made to appear delicacies through her method of introduction.

The night brought consolation and Nurse Ansel. She did not expect courage. It was she who had smoothed the pillows and held the glass to the lips. At night the patient had only to touch the bell, and in a moment Nurse Ansel was by the bed. "Can't sleep? I know, it's bad for you. I'll give you just two and a half grains, and the night won't seem so long".

All she did was faultless. She never annoyed. And when she went off duty, at five minutes to eight in the morning, she would whisper, "Until this evening."

It was with a special secret sympathy that Nurse Ansel would announce the evening visitor. "Here is someone you want to see, a little earlier than usual," the tone suggesting that Jim was not the husband of ten years but a troubadour, a lover, someone whose bouquet of flowers had been plucked in an enchanted garden and now brought to a balcony. Then shyly, the voice would murmur, "Good evening, Mr. West. Mrs. West is waiting foryou." She would hear the gentle closing of the door, the tip-toeing out with the flowers and the almost soundless return, the scent of the flowers filling the room.

It must have been during the fifth week that Marda West had suggested, first to Nurse Ansel and then to her husband, that perhaps when she returned home the night-nurse might go with them for the first week. Just a week. Just so that Marda West could settle to home again.

"Aren't you feeling excited?", asked Nurse Ansel.

"In a way", said Marda West. "It's like being born again. I've forgotten how the world looks."

"Such a wonderful world," murmured Nurse Ansel, "and you've been patient for so long."

"It's strange," said Marda West, "tomorrow you won't be a voice to me any more. You'll be a person."

"Aren't I a person now?"

"Yes, of course, but it will be different."

"Sleep, then. Tomorrow will come too soon. Good night, Mrs West. Ring if you want me."

"Thank you. Good night."

"Well, we can't complain of the weather!" Now it was the day itself, and Nurse Brand coming in like the first breeze of morning.

"All ready for the great event?" she asked.

Then the surgeon removed the bandages and did something to her eyelids.

"Now, don't be disappointed," he said. "You won't know any difference for about half an hour. Then it will gradually clear. I want you to lie quietly during that time."

The dark lenses, fitted inside her lids, were temporary' for the first few days. Then they would be removed and others fitted.

"How much shall I see?" she asked at last.

"Everything. But not immediately in colour. Just like wearing sunglasses on a bright day. Rather pleasant."

His cheerful laugh gave confidence, and when he and Nurse Brand had left the room she lay back again, waiting for the fog to clear.

Little by little the mist dissolved.

All was in focus now. Flowers, the wash-basin, the glass with the thermometer in it, her dressing-gown. Wonder and relief were so great that they excluded thought.

"They weren't lying to me," she thought. "It's happened, It's true."

Colour was not important. To see, to feel. It was indeed rebirth, the discovery of a world long lost to her.

She heard Nurse Brand's voice outside, and turned her head to watch the opening door.

"Well... are we happy once more?"

Smiling, she saw the figure dressed in uniform come into the room, bearing a tray, her glass of milk upon it. Yet, absurd, the head with the uniformed cap was not a woman's head at all. The thing bearing down upon her was a cow … a cow on a woman's body. The frilled cap was upon wide horns. The eyes were large and gentle,but cow's eyes, the nostrils broad and humid, and the way she stood there, breathing, was the way a cow stood placidly in pasture”.

"Feeling a bit strange?"

The laugh was a woman's laugh, a nurse's laugh, Nurse Brand's laugh, and she put the tray down on the cupboard beside the bed. The patient said nothing. She shut her eyes, then opened them again. The cow in the nurse's uniform was with her still. It was important to gain time. The patient stretched out her hand carefully for the glass of milk. She sipped the milk slowly. The mask must be worn on purpose'. Perhaps it was some kind of experiment connected with the fitting of the lenses – though how it was supposed to work she could not imagine.

"I see very plainly," she said at last. "At least, I think I Cio."

Nurse Brand stood watching her. The broad uniformed figure was much as Marda West had imagiaed it, but that cow's head tilted, the ridiculous frill of the horns... where did the head join the body, if mask it in fact was?

"Is it a trick?" Marda West asked.

"Is what a trick?"

"The way you look ... your ... face?"

The cow's jaw distinctly dropped.

"Really, Mrs West. I'm as the good God made me."

"I didn't mean- to offend you," she said, "but it is just a little strange. You see..."

She was spared explanation because the door opened and the surgeon came into the room. At least, the surgeon's voice was recognizable as he called. "Hullo! How goes it?" and his figure in the dark coat was all that an eminent surgeon's should be, but... that terrier's head, ears pricked, the inquisitive, searching glance?

This time the patient laughed.

"Mrs. West thinks us a bit of a joke," the nurse said. But her voice was not over-'pleased.

The surgeon came and put his hand out to his patient, and bent close to observe her eyes. She lay very still. He wore no mask either. He was even marked, one ear black,the other white.

"I'll be in on Thursday," he said, "to change the lenses." Marda West could not demand an explanation. Instinct warned her that he would not understand. The terrier was saying something to the cow, giving instructions.

As they moved to the door the patient made a last attempt.

"Will the permanent lenses," she asked, "be the same as these?"

"Exactly the same." said the surgeon, "except that they won't be tinted. You'll see the natural colour. Until Thursday, then."

He was gone, and the nurse with him. She could hear the murmur of voice outside the door. What happened now? If it was really some kind of test, did they remove their masks instantly? She slipped out of bed and went to the door. She could hear the surgeon say, "One and a half grains. She's a little tired. It's the reaction, of course".

Bravely, she flung open the door. They were standing there in the passage, wearing the masks still.

"Do you want anything, Mrs West?" asked Nurse Band.

Marda West stared beyond them down the corridor. The whole floor was in the deception". A maid, carrying dustpan and brush, coming from the room next door, had a weasel's" head upon her small body, and the nurse advancing from the other side was a little kitten, her cap coquettish on her furry curls, the doctor beside her a proud lion.

Fear came to Marda West. How could they have known she would open the door at that minute? Something of her fear must have shown in her face, for Nurse Brand, the cow, took hold of her and led her back into her room.

"I'm rather tired," Marda West said. "I'd like to sleep."

"That's right," said Nurse Brand and gave her a sedative".

The sedative acted swiftly.

Soon peaceful darkness came, but she awoke, to lunch brought in by the kitten. Nurse Brand was off duty.

"How long must it go on for?" asked Marda West. She had adjusted herself" to the trick.

"How do you mean, Mrs. West?" asked the kitten, smiling. Such a flighty little thing, with its pursed-up mouth, and even as it spoke it put a hand to its cap.

"This test on my eyes," said the patient, uncovering the boiled chicken on her plate. "I don't see the point of it."

"I'm sorry, Mrs. West," the kitten said, "I don't follow you. Did you tell Nurse Brand you couldn't see properly yet?"

"It's not that I can't see," replied Marda West. "I see perfectly well. The chair is a chair. The table is a table. I'm about to eat boiled chicken. But why do you look like a kitten?" 'I see what I see,' said the patient. "You are a cat, if you like, and Nurse Brand's a cow."

This time the insult must sound deliberate. Nurse Sweeting, that was the cat's name, had fine whiskers to her mouth. The whiskers bristled.

"If you please, Mrs. West," she said, "will you eat your chicken, and ring the bell when you are ready for the next course?"

She left the room.

No, they could not be wearing masks. And the staff of the hospital could not possibly put on such an act for one patient, for Marda West alone – the expense would be too great. The fault must lie in the lenses, then.

A sudden thought stuck her, and pushing the trolley table aside she climbed out of bed and went over the dressing-table. Her own face stared back at her from the looking-glass. The dark lenses concealed the eyes, but the face was at least her own.

"Thank heaven for that," she said to herself, but it swung her back to thoughts of trickery". Her first idea of masks had been the right one. But why?

She would try one further proof. She stood by the window, the curtain concealing her, and watched for passersby. For the moment there was no one in the street. It was the lunch-hour, and traffic was slack. Then, at the other end of the street, a taxi crossed, too far away for her to see the driver's head. She waited. A van drew near, but she could not see the driver... yes, he slowed as he wentby the nursing-home and she saw the frog's head.

Sick at heart, she left the window and climbed back into bed. She had no further appetite and pushed away her plate, the rest of the chicken untasted. She did not ring her bell, and after a while the door opened. The kitten, put the coffee down without a word, and Marda West irritated – for surely, if anyone was to show annoyance, it should be herself? – said sharply, "Shall I pour you some milk in the saucer?"

The kitten turned. "A joke's a joke, Mrs. West," she said, "and I can take a laugh with anyone. But I c an't s tand rudeness."

"Miaow," said Marda West.

The patient was in disgrace. She did not care. If the staf f of the nursing-home thought they could win this battle, they were mistaken. Marda went to the telephone and asked the exchange to put her through to her husband's office. She remembered a moment afterwards that he would still be at lunch. Nevertheless, she got the number, and as luck had it he was there.

"Jim... Jim, darling,"

The relief to hear the loved familiar voice. She lay back on the bed, the receiver to her ear.

"Darling, when can you get here?"

"Not before this evening, I'm afraid. Well, how did it go? Is everything O.K.?"

"Not exactly."

"What do you mean? Can't you see?"

How was she to explain what had happened to her? It sounded so foolish over the telephone.

"Yes, I can see. I can see perfectly. It's just that ... that all the nurses look like animals. And the surgeon too. He's a fox terrier."

"What on earth are you talking about?"

He was saying something to his secretary at the same time, something about another appointment, and she knew from the tone of his voice that he was very busy, very busy, and she had chosen the worst time to ring him up.

Marda West knew it was no use. She must wait till he came. Then she would try to explain everything, and he would be able to find out for himself what lay behind it.

"Oh, never mind," she said. "I'll tell you later."

"I'm sorry," he told her, "but I really am in a hurry."

Then she rang off. She put down the telephone.

It was much later in the afternoon that Matron called in to have a word with her. She knew it was Matron because of her clothes. But inevitably now, without surprise, she observed the sheep's head.

"I hope you're quite comfortable, Mrs. West?"

"Yes, thank you."

Marda West spoke guardedly". It would not do to anger the Matron.

"The lenses fit well?"

"Very well."

"I'm so glad. It was a nasty operation, and you've stood the period of waiting so very well. Mrs. West…" The Matron seemed uncomfortable, and turned her sheep's head away from the woman in the bed, "Mrs. West, I hope you won't mind what I'm going to say, but our nurses do a fine job here and we are all very proud of them. They work long hours, as you know, and it is not really very kind to mock" them, although I am sure you intend it in f un."

"Is it because I called Nurse Sweeting a kitten?"

"I don't know what you called her, Mrs. West, but she was quite distressed". She came to me in the of fice nearly crying."

"It won't happen again. But Matron," said Marda West, "What is the object of it all?"

"The object of what, Mrs. West?"

"This dressing up."

There was silence. The Matron moved slowly to the MISSED.

"I hope," she said, "when you leave us in a few days, Mrs. West, that you will look back on us with greater tolerance than you appear to have now."

She left the room. Marda West closed her eyes. She opened them again. Why was it only people had changed? What was so wrong with people? She kept her eyes shut when her tea was brought to her, and when the voice said pleasantly. "Some flowers for you, Mrs. West," she did not even open them, but waited for the owner of the voice to leave the room. The flowers were carnations".The card was Jim's. And the message on it said, "Cheer up. We're not as bad as we seem."

She smiled, and buried her face in the flowers. Nothing false about them. Nothing strange about the scent. Carnations were carnations, fragrant, graceful. Even the nurse on duty who came to put them in water could not irritate her with her pony's head. Af ter all, it was a trim little pony, with a white star on its forehead. "Thank you,"smiled Marda West.

The curious day dragged on, and she waited restlessly for eight o'clock. She realized, so strange had been the day, that she had not once thought about Nurse Ansel. Dear, comforting Nurse Ansel. Nurse Ansel, who was due to come on duty at eight. was she also in the conspiracy?" If she was, then Marda West would have a showdown".Nurse Ansel would never lie. She would go up to her, and put her hands on her shoulders, and take the mask in her two hands, and say to her, "There, now take it off.You won't deceive me."

At that moment the door opened and a long snake's head came into view.

"How does it feel to see yourself again?"

Nurse Ansel's voice coming from the head seemed grotesque and horrible. Marda West felt sick at the sight ofher.

"Poor dear, they should have kept you quiet, the first day," Nurse Ansel said.

"Tell me," she continued, "do I look as you expected me to look?"

She must be careful, Marda West thought. The question might be a trap".

"I think you do," she said slowly.

"When I go home with you," said Nurse Ansel, "I needn't wear uniform – that is, if you don't want me to. You see, you'll be a private patient then, and I your personal nurse for the week I'm with you."

Marda West felt suddenly cold. In the rush of the day she had forgotten the plans. Nurse Ansel was to be with them for a week. It was all arranged. The vital thing was not to show fear. Nothing must seem chanted. And then, when Jim arrived, she would tell him everything. If he could not see the snake's head as she did – and indeed, it was possible that he would not, if her hypervision was caused by the lenses – he must just understand that for reasons too deep to explain she no longer trusted Nurse Ansel, could not, in fact, bear her to come home. The plan must be altered. She wanted no one to look after her. She only wanted to be home again, with him.

The telephone rang on the bedside-table and Marda West seized it. It was her husband.

"Sorry to be late," he said. "I'll jump into a taxi and be with you right away."

He rang off, and looking up she saw the snake's head watching her. No doubt, thought Marda West, no doubt you would like to know what we were saying to one another.

"You must promise not to get too excited when Mr. West comes." Nurse Ansel stood with her hand upon the MISSED.

"I'm not excited. I just long to see him, that's all."

"You're looking very flushed".

"It's warm in here."

"I'll open the window just a trifle at the top."

Then the neck settled in the collar, the tongue darted rapidly in and out, and with a gliding motion Nurse Ansel left the room.

Marda West waited for the sound of the taxi in the street outside. She wondered if she could persuade Jim to stay the night in the nursing-home. If she explained her fear, her terror, surely he would understand.

The taxi came at last. She heard it slow down, and then the door slammed and, Jim's voice rang out in the street below. The taxi went away. Her heart began to beat fast, and she watched the door. She heard his footstep outside, and then his voice again – he must be saying something to the snake.

The door opened, the familiar umbrella und bowler hat the Xirst objects to appear round the corner, then the comforting burly figure, but – God … no … please God, not Jim too, not Jim, forced into a mask, forced into an organisation of devils, of liars … Jim had a vulture’s” head. She could not mistake it. As she lay in sick and speechless horror, he stood the umbrella in a corner and put down the bowler hat and the folder overcoat.

"I gather you're not too well," he said, turning his vulture's head and staring at her, "feeling a bit sick and out of sorts. I won't stay long. A good night's rest will put you right."

She was too numb to answer. She lay quite still as he approached the bed and bent to kiss her. The vulture's beak was sharp.

"It's reaction, Nurse Ansel says," he went on, "the sudden shock of being able to see again. It works differently with different people. She says it will be much better when we get you home."

We ... Nurse Ansel and Jim. The plan still held-", then.

"I don't know," she said faintly, "that I want Nurse Ansel to come home."

"Not want Nurse Ansel?" He sounded startled. "But it was you who suggested it. You can't suddenly change."

There was no time to reply. She had not rung the bell, but Nurse Ansel herself came into the room. "Cup of coffee, Mr. West?" she said. It was the evening routine. Yet tonight it sounded strange, as though it had been arranged outside the door.

"Thanks, Nurse, I'd love some. What's this nonsense about not coming home with us?" The vulture turned to the snake, the snake's head wriggled, and Marda West knew, as she watched them, the snake with darting tongue, the vulture with his head hunched between his man's shoulders, that the plan for Nurse Ansel to come home had not been her own after all; she remembered now that the first suggestion had come from Nurse Ansel herself. It had been Nurse Ansel who had said that Marda West needed care. The suggestion had come after Jim had spent the evening laughing and joking and his wife had listened, her eyes bandaged, happy to hear him. Now, watching the smooth snake she knew why Nurse Ansel wanted to return with her, and she knew too why Jim had not opposed it, why in fact he had accepted the plan at once, had declared it a good one.

The vulture opened its blood-stained beak. "Don't say you two have fallen out?"

"Impossible." The snake twisted its neck, looked sideways at the vulture, and added, "Mrs. West is just a little bit tired tonight. She's had a trying day, haven't you, dear?"

How best to answer? Neither must know. Neithei the vulture, nor the snake.

"I'm all right," she said. "A bit mixed-up. As Nurse Ansel says, I'll be better in the morning."

"Did you really mean that," Jim asked, "about Nurse Ansel?"

A vulture needed sharp claws for tearing its victim.

"I don't know," she said. "It seemed to me rather silly to go home with a nurse, now that I can see again."

"I think she's treasure," he said. "I vote we stick to the plan. After all, if it doesn't work we can always send her away."

"Perhaps," said his wife.

"What will you do this evening?" she asked quietly."Have dinner at the club, I suppose," he answered. "It's becoming rather monotonous. Only two more days of it, thank goodness. Then you'll be home again."

Yes, but once at home, once back there, with a vulture and a snake, would she not be more completely at their mercy than she was here?

"You look unwell," he said suddenly. "Shall I call Nurse Ansel?"

"No..." It broke from her, almost a cry.

"I think I'd better go. She said not to stay long."

He got up from the chair, a heavy, hooded figure, and she closed her eyes as he came to kiss her good night. "Sleep well, my poor pet, and take it easy."

When he had gone she began to moan, turning her head upon the pillow.

"What am I to do?" she said. "What am I to do?"

The door opened again and she put her hand to her mouth. They must not hear her cry. They must not see her cry. She pulled herself together with a tremendous effort.

"How are you feeling, Mrs. West?"

The snake stood at the bottom of the bed, and by her side the house physician. She had always liked him, a young pleasant man, and although like the others he had an animal's head it did not frighten her. It was a dog's head, an Aberdeen's and the brown eyes seemed to quiz her.

"Could I speak to you alone?" she asked.

"Of course. Do you mind, nurse?" He jerked his head at the door, and she had gone. Marda West sat up in bed and clasped her hands.

"You'll think me very foolish," she began, "but it's the lenses. They make everyone look strange."

"They're supposed to do that, you know. They don't show colour." His voice was cheerful, friendly.

"Yes," she said. His voice, even his head, gave her confidence. "Have you known people who've had this operation before?"

"Yes, scores of them". In a couple of days you'll be as right as rain". You'll actually see more clearly in every way. One patient told me that it was as though she had been wearing spectacles all her life, and then, because of the operation, she realized she saw all her friends and her family as they really were."

"As they really were?" She repeated his words after him.

"Exactly. Her sight had always been poor, you see. She had thought her husband's hair was brown, but in reality it was red, bright red. A bit of a shock at first. But she was delighted."

The Aberdeen moved from the bed and nodded his head.

She repeated the words he had used himself. Marda West could see people as they really were. And those whom she had loved and trusted most were in truth a vulture and a snake…

The door opened and Nurse Ansel, with the sedative,entered the room.

"Ready to settle down, Mrs. West?" she asked.

"Yes, thank you."

The voice that had once seemed tender was oversmooth and false. How deceptive'-' are ears, thought Marda West, what traitors to truth. And for the first time she became aware of her own new power, the power to tell truth from falsehood, good from evil.

"Good night, Mrs. West."

"Good night."

Lying awake, Marda West decided upon her plan. She got out of bed. She took her clothes from the wardrobe and began to dress. She put on her coat and shoes andtied a scarf over her head. When she was ready she went to the door and softly turned the handle. All was quiet in the corridor. She stood there motionless. Then she took one step across the threshold and looked to the left, where the nurse on duty sat. The snake was there. The snake was sitting bent over a book.

Marda West waited. She was prepared to wait for hours. Presently the sound she hoped for came, the bell from a patient. The snake lifted its head from the book and checked the red light on the wall. Then, she glided down the corridor to the patient's room. She knocked and entered. Directly she had disappeared Marda West left her own room and went downstairs and into the street.

Marda West was walking down the street. She turned right, and left, and right again, and in the distance she saw the lights of Oxford Street. She began to hurry. The friendly traffic drew her like a magnet, the distant lights, the distant men and women. When she came to Oxford Street she paused, wondering of a sudden where she should go, whom she could ask for refuge. And it came to her once again that there was no one, no one at all; because the couple passing her now, a toad's"-' head on a short black body clutching a panther's" arm, could give her no protection, and the policeman standing at the corner was a baboon", the woman talking to him a little pig. No one was human, no one was safe, the man a pace or two behind her was like Jim, another vulture. There were vultures on the pavement opposite. Coming towards her, laughing, was a jackal.

She turned and ran. She ran, bumping into them, jackals, hyenas'"-, vultures, dogs. The world was theirs, there was no human left. Seeing her run they turned and looked at her, they pointed, they screamed and yapped, they gave chase, their footsteps followed her. Down Oxford Street she ran, pursued by them, the night all darkness and shadow, the light no longer with her, alone in an animal world.

"Lie quite still, Mrs. West, just a small prick", I'm not going to hurt you."

She recognized the voice of Mr. Greaves, the surgeon, and dimly she told herself that they had got hold of her again.

They had replaced the bandages over her eyes, and for this she was thankful.

"Now, Mrs. West, I think your troubles are over. No pain and no confusion with these lenses. The world's in colour again."

The bandages were removed after all. And suddenly everything was clear, as day, and the face of Mr. Greaves smiled down at her. At his side was a rounded, cheerful nurse.

"Where are your masks?" asked the patient.

"We didn't need masks for this little job," said the sur geon. "We were only taking out the temporary lenses.

That's better, isn't it?"

She looked around. She was back again all right. All was in natural qolour.

"Something happened to me, didn't it?" she said. "I tried to get away."

The nurse glanced at the surgeon. He nodded his head.

"Yes," he said, "you did. And, frankly, I don't blame you. I blame myself. Those lenses I inserted yesterday were pressing upon a tiny nerve, and the pressure threw out your balance. That's all over now."

His smile was reassuring. And the large eyes of Nurse Brand – it must surely be Nurse Brand – gazed down at her in sympathy.

"It was very terrible," said the patient. "I can never explain how terrible."

"Don't try," said Mr Greaves. "I can promise you it won't happen again."

The door opened and the young physician entered. He too was smiling. "Patient fully restored?" he asked.

"I think so," said the surgeon. "What about it, Mrs. West?"

"I thought you were dogs," she said. "I thought you were a hunt terrier, Mr. Greaves, and that you were an Aberdeen."

She turned to Nurse Brand. "I thought you were a cow," she said, "a kind cow. But you had sharp horns."

Everybody took it in good part.

The doctors were moving towards the door, laughing,

and Marda West, sensing the normal atmosphere, the absence of all strain, asked Nurse Brand, "Who found me, then? What happened? Who brought me back?"

Mr. Greaves glanced back at her from the door. "You didn't get very far, Mrs. West. The porter followed you. The person who really had the full shock was poor Nurse Ansel when she found you weren't in your bed."

"Nurse Ansel is here now," said Nurse Brand. "She was so upset when she went off duty that she wouldn't go back to the hostel to sleep. Would you care to have a word with her?"

Before she could answer the house doctor opened the door and called down the passage.

"Mrs. West wants to say good morning to you," she said. Marda West stared, then began to smile, and held out her hand.

"I'm sorry," she said, "you must forgive me."

How could she have seen Nurse Ansel as a snake! The hazel eyes, the clear olive skin, the dark hair trim under the frilled cap. And that smile, that slow, understandingsmile.

"Forgive you, Mrs. West?" said Nurse Ansel. "What have I to forgive you for? You've been through a terrible thing."

Patient and nurse held hands. They smiled at one another. Nurse Ansel was so pretty, so gentle. "Don't think about it," she said, "You're going to be happy from now on. Promise me?"

"I promise," said Marda West.

The telephone rang, and Nurse Ansel let go her patient's hand and reached for the receiver. "You know who this is going to be," she said. "Your poor husband." She gave the receiver to Marda West.

"Jim... Jim, is that you?"

The loved voice sounding so anxious at the other end."Are you all right?" he said. "I've been through to Matron twice, she said she would let me know. What the devil has been happening?"

Marda West smiled and handed the receiver to the nurse.

"You tell him," she said.

Nurse Ansel held the receiver to her ear. The skin of her hand was olive smooth, the nails gleaming with a soft pink polish.

"Is that you, Mr. West" she said. "Our patient gave us a fright, didn't she?" She smiled and nodded at the woman in the bed. "Well, you don't have to worry any more. Mr. Greaves changed the lenses. They were pressing on a nerve, and everything is now all right. She can see perfectly. Yes, Mr. Greaves said we could come home tomorrow."

Marda West reached once more for the receiver.

"Jim, I had a hideous'4 night," she said. "I'm only just beginning to understand it now. A nerve in the brain…"

"So, I understand," he said. "Don't excite yourself. I'll be along later."

His voice went. Marda West gave the receiver to Nurse Ansel, who replaced it on the stand.

"Did Mr. Greaves really say I could go home tomorrow?" she asked.

"Yes, if you're good." Nurse Ansel smiled and patted her patient's hand. "Are you sure you still want me to come with you? she asked.

"Why, yes," said Marda West. "Why, it's all arranged."

"The most precious thing in the world," she said to Nurse Ansel, "is sight. I know now. I know what I might have lost."

Nurse Ansel nodded her head in sympathy. "You've got your sight back," she said, "that's the miracle. You won't ever lose it now."

She moved to the door. "I'll slip back to the hostel and get some rest," she said. "Now I know everything is well with you I'll be able to sleep. Is there anything you want before I go?"

"Give me my face-cream and my powder," said the patient, "and the lipstick and the brush and comb."

Nurse Ansel fetched the things from the dressing-table and put them within reach upon the bed. She brought the hand-mirror, too, and the bottle of scent.

Already, thought Marda West, Nurse Ansel fitted in. She saw herself putting flowers in the small guest-room, choosing the right books, fitting a portable wireless in case Nurse Ansel should be bored in the evenings.

"I'll be with you at eight o'clock."

The door closed. Nurse Ansel had gone.

Marda West lifted the hand-mirror and looked into it. Nothing changed in the room, the street noises came from outside, and presently the little maid who had seemed a weasel yesterday came in to dust the room. She said, "Good morning," but the patient did not answer. Perhaps she was tired. The maid dusted, and went her way.

Then Marda West took up the mirror and looked into it once more. No, she had not been mistaken. The eyes that stared back at her were doe's" eyes, weary before sacrifice", and the timid deer's" head was meek, already bowed"

NOTES:

bandage – rrOBH3KR

fit lenses – BCTRBHTb JINH3bI

surgeon – xepypr

endure – nepea

tip-toe – xopїva aa qbmoszax

temporary – apeMeїssiA

dissolve – paccesvacz

in pasture – ea nacv6їїe

on purpose – zapoїHO

in the deception – B MRCKRX

weasel – zracza

sedative – ycrrozoevezasoe

adjust oneself – npecnoco6evsca

trickery – o6MaH

guardedly – ocvopomao

mock – їacncexaTbCB

distressed – paccvpoeHHhIN

carnation – raoapeza

eonspiracy – saroaop

have a showdown – ace o6ї5ICHMTb

trap – aoayxuxa

flushed – BO36ympeavbrA

vulture – rpeQ

too numb – CJINIIIKOM

the plan still held – nzaz ocvaaaїca

scores of them – oseHb MHOI'0

as right as rain – coaepuzeHHO 3pOpOBbIM

deceptive – o6MaHHNBbIN

toad – ma6a

panther – їaHTepa

baboon – 6a6yeH

hyena – rneza

prick – yxozr

hideous – ymaCHBIH

doe – zraїb

sacrifice – mepvsonpїїomevve

deer – oїeїa

bowed – CKJIOHCHHbIA

Comprehension:

1) Why was Marda West in hospital?

2) What was the effect of the blue lenses?

3) Why was the woman frightened?

4) What did she suspect at first?

5) When did she understand that she had been mistaken?

6) Did animal heads have anything to do with their masters characters?

7) Did the new lenses put everything in its place?

The Last Inch by J. Aldridge

At forty you were lucky if you still enjoyed flying after twenty years of it, and you were lucky if you could still feel that artistic pleasure of a beginner when you brought the plane down well.

It was all gone; and he was forty-three and his wife had gone back to Linnean Street, Cambridge, Mass., and was leading the life she liked to lead, taking the streetcar to Harvard Square, shopping at the market, living in her old man's decent old farm house which made a decent life for a decent woman.

He had promised to join her before the summer but he knew he would never do it. He also knew he would never get another flying job at his age, not for his sort of flying, even in Canada.

That left him with an apathetic wife who didn't want him, and a ten-year-old boy who had come too late and was, Ben knew in his heart, not part of either of them: a very lonely boy lost between them, who understood, at ten, that his mother had no interest in him, and that his father was a stranger who couldn't talk to him and was too sharp with him in the rare moments when they were together.

This particular moment was no better than the others. Ben had the boy with him in an Auster bumping violently down the 2,000 feet corridor over the Red Sea coast, waiting for the boy to be airsick.

"If you want to be sick," he said to the boy, "put your head well down on the floor so that you don't make the plane dirty."

"Yes," the boy said miserably.

"Are you afraid?"

"A little," the boy answered: a rather pale, shy and serious voice for a North-American boy. "Can these bumps smash the plane?"

Ben had no way of comforting him, excepting the truth. "Only if the plane has not been looked after and periodically checked."

"Is this..." the boy began, but he was too sick to go on.

"It's all right," his father said irritably. "It's a good enough plane."

The boy had his head down and was beginning to cry quietly.

"Don't cry!" Ben ordered him now. "There's no need to cry. Get your head up, Davy! Get it up!"

"How do you know where the wind is?" the boy asked.

"The waves, the odd cloud, the feel," Ben shouted back.

But he no longer knew what.directed his flying. Without thinking about it he knew to a foot where he would put the plane down. He had to know here, because there were no feet to spare-' on this piece of natural sand, which was impossible to approach in anything but a small plane. It was a hundred miles from the nearest native village. It was dead desert country.

"This is what is important," Ben said. "When you level off it's got to be' six inches. Not one foot, or three feet. Six inches! If it's too high and you come down hard, you'll wreck the plane. If it's too low, you hit a bump and go over. It's the last inch that's important."

Davy nodded. He knew. He had seen an Auster like this one go over at Embaba. The student flying it had been killed.

"See!" his father shouted. "Six inches. When she begins to sink, I ease back the stick. I ease it back. Now!" he said and the plane touched down like a snowflake. The last inch! He cut off the engine instantly and put on the heel brakes4 which stopped them short of the sudden drop into the water by six or seven feet.

The two pilots who had discovered this bay had called it Shark Bay, not for its shape but for its population. It was always well filled with good-sized Red Sea sharks who came into it after the big shoals of herring and mullet which looked for a safe place in here from time to time.

It was sharks Ben was here for; and now that he was here he forgot the boy, except to instruct him how to help unload, how to pack the food bag in wet sand, how to keep the sand wet with buckets of sea water, and to bring the tools and the small things necessary for his aqualung and cameras.

"Does anybody ever come here?" Davy asked him.

Ben was too busy to hear him now, but he shook his head. “Nobody! Nobody could get here, except in a light plane. Bring me the two green bags from the floor”, he said, “and keep your head covered against the sun. I don't want you to get sunstroke”.

It was Davy's last question. He had asked his questions seriously trying in that way to soften his father's hard answers. But he gave up the attempt and simply did as he was told. He watched carefully while his father prepared his aqualung eqvipment and underwater cameras to go into the perfect clear coral water to film sharks.

"Don't go near the water!" his father ordered.

Davy said nothing.

"These sharks," his father warned, "will be glad to take a bite at you,' especially on the surface; so don't even put your feet in."

Davy shook his head.

Ben wished he could do more for the boy, but it was too late by many years. When he was away flying (which had been most of the time since Davy was born and since he was a baby, and now when he was growing into his teens) he had never had contact with him. In Colorado, in Florida, in Canada, in Iraq, in Bahrein, and here in Egypt: it should have been his wife's work, Joannie's work, to keep the boy lively and happy.

In the early days he had tried himself to make friends with the boy. But he was very rarely at home, and the "home" was some outlandish place of Arabia which Joannie had hated and had continually compared with the clear summer evenings and cold sparkling winters and quiet college streets of that New England town. She had found nothing interesting in the mud houses of Bahrein at 110 degrees with 100 degrees humidity; nor in the iron encampments of oilfields, nor even in the dusty streets of Cairo. But all that apathy, (which had increased until it had beaten her) should be disappearing, now when she was at home. He would take the boy back to her, and hope that she would begin to take some interest in him now when she was where she wanted to be. Butshe hadn't shown much interest yet, and she'd left three months ago.

"Fix that strap between my legs," he told Davy.

He had the heavy aqualung on his back. Its two cylinders of compressed air, 56 lbs in weight, would give him the possibility to be thirty feet below for more than an hour. There was no need to go deeper. The sharks didn't.

"And don't throw any stones in the water," his father said, picking up the cylindrical watertight camera box.

"It frightens everything in sight. Even the sharks. Give me the mask."

Davy handed him the glass-fronted mask for his face. "I'll be down there about twenty minutes," Ben told him. “Then I'll come up and have lunch because the sun is already too high. You can put some stones on each side of the plane's wheels, and then sit under the wing out of the sun. Do you get that?”

"Yes," Davy said.

Davy watched the sea swallow his father and sat down to watch for a moment, as if there was something to see.But there was nothing at all, except the air-bubble breaking the surface from time to time.

There was nothing on the surface of the sea, which disappeared in the far horizon; and when he climbed up the hot sand-hill to the highest side of the sand bay, he could see nothing but the bare desert behind him.

Below, there was only the aeroplane, the little silver Auster. He felt free enough now, with no one in sight for a hundred miles, to sit inside the plane and study it. But the smell of it began to make him sick again, so he got out and poured a bucket of water around the sand where the lunch was, and then sat down to see if he could watch the sharks his father was photographing. He could see nothing below surface at all; and in the hot silence and loneliness he wondered what would happen if his father didn't come up again.

Ben was having trouble with the valve' that gave the right amount of air. He wasn't deep, only twenty feet, but the valve worked irregularly.

The sharks were there, but at a distance, just out of camera range.

"This time," he told himself, "I'm going to get three thousand dollars."

He was paid by the Commercial Television Stock Company; a thousand dollars for every five hundred feet of shark film, and a special'thousand dollars for any shot of a hammerhead.

While they ate their silent lunch he changed the film in the French camera and fixed the valve of his aqualung, and it was only when he began to open one of the bottles of lager that he remembered that he had brought nothing lighter to drink for his son.

"Did you find something to drink?" he asked Davy.

"No," Davy told him. "There is no water…"

"You'll have to drink some of this," he told Davy. "Open a bottle and try it, but don't drink too much of it."

He did not like the idea of a ten-year-old drinking beer but there was nothing else. Davy opened a bottle, took a quick drink, but swallowed it with difficulty. He shook his head and gave the bottle back to his father.

"You had better open a can of peaches," Ben said.

A can of peaches was no good in this dry noonday heat, but there was nothing else to give him. Ben lay back when he had finished eating, covered the equipment carefully with a wet towel, looked at Davy to see that he was not ill or in the sun, and went to sleep.

"Does anyone know we are here?" Davy was asking him when he was getting into the water again after his sweaty rest.

"Why do you ask that? What's the matter?"

"I don't know. I just thought…"

"Nobody knows we're here," Ben said. "We get permission from the Egyptians to fly to Hurgada; but they don't know that we come down this far. They must not know either. Remember that!"

"Could they find us?"

Ben thought the boy was afraid that they would be caught for doing something wrong. "No, no one could ever reach us either by sea or by land."

"Doesn't anyone know?" the boy asked, still worried.

"I told you," Ben said irritably. But suddenly he realised and too late that Davy was afraid not of being caught, but of being left alone. "Don't worry about it," Ben said. "You'll be all right."

"It's getting windy," Davy said in his quiet way.

"I know that. I'll be under water about half an hour. Then I'll come up and put in a new film and go down for another ten minutes. So find something to do while I'mgone. You should have brought a fishing line with you."

There were five of them now in the silver space where the coral joined the sand. He was right; The sharks came in almost immediately, smelling the blood of the meat, or feeling it somehow. He kept very still.

"Come on! Come on!" he said quietly.

They came straight for the piece of horsemeat, first the familiar tiger and then two or three smaller sharks of the same shape. They did not swim nor even propel their bodies. They simply moved forward like grey rockets. As they came to the meat they moved a little on one side and took passing bites at it.

He took films of all of it: the approach, the opening of their jaws as if they had tooth-ache, and the grabbing, messy bites that were as ugly a sight as he had seen in his life.

Like every underwater man, he hated and admired them on sight and was afraid of them.

They came back again, and his hundred feet of film was almost finished so he would have to leave all this, go up, reload, and return as quickly as he could. He looked down at the camera for a moment. When he looked up again he saw the unfriendly tiger coming at him.

"Git! Git! Git!"" he shouted through his mouthpiece.

The tiger simply rolled over in his approach, and Ben knew that he was being attacked.

The side-gashing teeth caught Ben's right arm in one sweep and passed across the other arm like a razor. Ben panicked, and in ten seconds he felt rather than saw the next attack. He felt the shark hit him along the legs, and even as he saw one of the smaller sharks come at him, he kicked out at in and rolled over backwards.

He had come to the surface ledge.

He rolled out of the water in a bleeding mess.

When he came to" he remembered at once what had happened, and he wondered how long he had been out – and what happened next.

"Davy!" he shouted.

He could hear his son's voice, but he could hardly see. He knew the physical shock had come upon him. But he saw the boy then, his terrified face looking down at him, and he realised he had only been out for a second, but he could hardly move.

"What shall I do?" Davy was crying. "Look what happened to you!"

Ben closed his eyes to think clearly for a moment. He – knew he could never fly that plane; his arms were like fire and lead, and his legs could not move, and he was not entirely conscious.

"Davy," he said carefully with his eyes closed. "How are my legs?"

"It's not your legs," he heard from Davy's sick-sounding voice. "It's your arms. They're all cut up, they're horrible."

"I know that," he said angrily through his teeth. "What about my legs?"

"They're covered in blood and they're cut up too."

"Badly?"

"Yes, but not like your arms. What do I do?"

Ben looked at his arms then, and saw that the right one seemed almost cut off, and he could see muscle and sinew and not much blood. The left one looked like a chewed-up piece of meat and it was bleeding greatly, and he bent it up, wrist to shoulder, to stop the blood and groaned with pain.

He knew there wasn't much hope.

But then he knew there had to be; because if he died now the boy would be left here and that was a bad prospect. That was a worse prospect than his own condition. They would never find the boy in time – if they could, in fact, find him at all.

"Davy," he said. "Listen to me. Get my shirt and tear it up and wrap up my right arm. Are you listening?"

"Tie up my left arm tight above all those cuts to stop the blood. Then tie my wrist up to my shoulder so me how, as hard as you can. Do you understand? Tie up both my arms."

"Yes, I understand."

"Tie them tight. Do my right arm first, but close up the wound. Do you understand? Is it clear…"

Ben did not hear the answer because he felt himself losing consciousness again, and this time it was longer, and he came to himself and saw the boy working on his left arm with his serious pale face expressing fear and terror and desperation.