Приглашаем школьников 9-11 класса и учащиеся коллджей на English reading club!

Уровень intermediate (средний), можно выше. Главное, чтобы не ниже.

Погружение в мир английской литературы и в мир английского языка. Читаем, обсуждаем, делимся впечатлениями, делаем выводы — и все это на английском. В тёплую солнечную погоду на веранде за чашечкой чая приглашаю вас попрактиковать свой английский. 

Мы предлагаем вам рассказ, который необходимо прочитать и на встрече мы будем его обсуждать вместе с педагогом.

O. Henry. 
No Story 

I worked in a newspaper. One day Tripp came in and leaned on my table. Tripp was something. He was about twenty-five and looked forty. His face was covered with short, curly red hair. He was pale and unhealthy and miserable and always was borrowing money from twenty-five cents to a dollar. One dollar was his limit. When he leaned on my table he held one hand with the other to keep from shaking. Whisky.
“Well, Tripp,” said I, looking at him rather impatiently, “how is life?” He was looking more miserable than I had ever seen him.
“Have you got a dollar?” asked Tripp looking at me with his dog-like eyes.
That day I had managed to get five dollars for my Sunday story. “I have,” I said; and again I said, “I have,” more loudly, “and four besides. And I had hard work getting them. And I need them all.”
“I don’t want to borrow any,” said Tripp, “I thought you would like to get a good story. I’ve got a really fine one for you. It will probably cost you a dollar or two to get the stuff. I don’t want anything for myself.”
“What is the story?” I asked.
“It’s girl. A beauty. She has lived all her life on Long Island and never saw New York City before. I ran against her on Thirty-fourth Street. She stopped me in the street and asked me where she could find George Brown. She asked me where she could find George Brown in New York City! What do you think of that? I talked to her. It’s like this.
Some years ago George set off for New York to make his fortune. He didn’t come back. Now there is a young farmer named Dodd she is going to marry next week. But Ada — her name is Ada Lowery – couldn’t forget George, so this morning she saddled a horse and rode eight miles to the railway station to catch the 6.45 a.m. train. She came to the city to look for George.
She must have thought the first person she asked would tell her where her George was! You must see her! What could I do? She had paid her last cent for her railroad ticket. I couldn’t leave her in the street, could I? I took her to a cheap hotel. And she has to pay for the room, too. That is the price per day.”
”That’s no story,” said I. “Every ferry-boat brings or takes away girls from Long Island.”
Tripp looked disappointed. “Can’t you see what an amazing story it would make? You will get fifteen dollars for it. And it will cost you only four, so you will make a profit of eleven dollars.”
“How will it cost me four dollars?” I asked suspiciously.
“One dollar for her room and two dollars to pay the girl’s fare back home.”
‘And the fourth?’ I asked.
“ One dollar to me,” said Tripp. “Don’t you see,” he insisted, “That the girl has to get back home today?”
And then I began to feel what is known as the sense of duty. In a kind of cold anger I put on my coat and hat. But I swore to myself that Tripp wouldn’t get the dollar.
In a dark hall a girl sat crying quietly and eating sweets out of paper bag. She was a real beauty. Crying only made her eyes brighter.
“My friend, Mr. Chalmers. He is a reporter,” said Tripp “and he will tell you, Miss Lowery, what’s best to do.”
I felt ashamed of being introduced as Tripp’s friend to such a beauty. “Why- er — Miss Lowery,” I began feeling terribly awkward, “will you tell me what has happened?”
“Oh,” said Miss Lowery, ” You see, everything is ready for me to marry Hiram Dodd next Thursday. He’s got one of the best farms on the island. But last night I got to thinking about G – George — ”
“You see, I can’t help it. George and I loved each other since we were children. Four years ago he went to the city. He said he was going to be a policeman, a railroad president or something. And then he would come back for me. But I never heard from him anymore. And I – I – like him.”
“Now, Miss Lowery,” said Tripp, “you like this young man, Dodd, don’t you? He’s all right, and good to you, isn’t he?”
“Of course, I like him. And of course, he is good to me. He’s promised me a automobile and a motor-boat. But somehow I couldn’t stop thinking about George. Something must have happened to him or he would have written. On the day he left, he got a hammer and a chisel and cut a cent into two pieces. I took one piece and he took the other, and we promised to be true to each other and always keep the pieces till we saw each other again. I’ve got mine at home. I guess it was silly of me to come here. I never realized what a big place it is.”
Then Tripp spoke with an awkward little laugh. “Oh, the boys from the country forget a lot when they come to the city. May be, he met another girl or something. You come back home, and you’ll be all right.”
In the end we persuaded Miss Lowery to go back home. The three of us hurried to the ferry, and there I found the price for the ticket to be but a dollar and eighty cents. I bought one, and a red, red rose with twenty cents for Miss Lowery. We saw her aboard her ferry-boat and stood watching her wave her handkerchief at us. And then Tripp and I faced each other.
“Can’t you get a story out of it?” he asked. “Some sort of a story?”
“Not a line,” I said.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. Then Tripp unbuttoned his shabby coat to get something that had once been a handkerchief. As he did so I saw something shining on his cheap watch-chain. It has the half of a silver cent that had been cut in halves with a chisel.
“What?!” I exclaimed. «Is that you?!!»
“Oh yes,” he answered. George Brown, or Tripp. What’s the use?
I took a dollar from my pocket and unhesitatingly put it in his hand.

Клуб ведет Абдуллина Галина — педагог с более, чем двадцатилетним стажем, учитель английского языка.

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