It looks as if I would never be 16 страница

1. A Christmas card is...

A. a card sent to relatives and friends with your good wishes in it.

B. a card sent to relatives, and friends inviting them to holiday dinner.

2. A Christmas carol is...

A. a religious hymn sung on the occasion.

B. funny couplets sung for entertainment.

3. A Christmas cracker is...

A. a dry biscuit with Christmas symbols on it.

B. a brightly coloured tube of paper containing a toy people pull at parties.

4. A Christmas box is...

A. money given to those who deliver post, groceries, etc. for their services.

B. festively-wrapped gifts placed under a Christmas tree.

5. A Christmas pudding is...

A. any dessert eaten at Christmas dinner.

B. a special pudding containing dried fruit eaten at Christ­ mas dinner.

3.2. Discussion.

Think of different interpretations of the story. Argue if the story focuses on family relationships, traditional values, religious educa­tion, or something else.

3.3. Poetry corner.

Read the poem written by Eleanor Farjeon and discuss the com­parisons the author uses. Do you think they make the carol more beautiful? Prove it.

THE CHILDREN'S CAROL

Here we come again, again, and here we come again!

Christmas is a single pearl hanging on a chain,

Christmas is a single flower in a barren wood,

Christmas is a single sail on a salty flood,

Christmas is a single star in the empty sky,

Christmas is a single song sung for charity;

Here we come again, again, and here we sing to you again,

Give a single penny that we may not sing in vain.

DISCUSSION (STORIES 6—10)

POERTY RECITAL

Choose one poem found in POETRY CORNERS and recite it in class describing its message and the beauty of the language.

DESIGN-A-CARD SESSION

Design self-made cards dedicated to the red letter days of the na­tive calendar: February 23, March 8, May 9, September 1, and many others. Make an exhibition of those for English-speaking guests to see and admire. To the best of your ability, explain the meaning of these holidays in Belarus.

JUST FOR LAUGHS

Remember any other story that involves a trickster whose trick didn't work. Choose a story based on a true event or borrowed from literature. As a last resort, tell a good joke. There is nothing like a good laugh, is there?

MEET THE CHARACTER

Select a character that not only appears in this section but also appeals to you. Describe his/her personal achievements thoroughly like a good mentor should. Presentation in the first person singular is not unwelcome.

THE TWO SIDES OF EVERYTHING

The King from The Princess Who Kicked Butt has a very positive feature of character: he can see the two sides of every issue easily. Positive or not very, this ability is always welcome. Practice this particular skill now by holding a debate on Anything You Wish To Talk About trying to see... yes, right, the two sides of Anything!

TRADITIONS OLD AND NEW

Discuss some of the old traditions and rituals that exist in Belarus today. What is your attitude towards them? Do you observe these rituals obediently, or do they find little response in your cosmopolitan heart? Anyway, do we need these traditions — in this day and age? Should we live by tradition or — well, you decide for yourselves.

THE STRANGE DISAPPEARANCE OF MR STONEY'S LUNCH

I. PRE-READING

1.1. SHARE your recollections of a funny episode connected with meals, especially when you were exposed to some new dish or something like that.

1.2. DISCUSS the correctness of the following maxim: "We are what we eat." Is it really so?

1.3. DEBATE the problem of good nutrition. What do you call by such a name? Share your secrets (if you have any) of keeping your figure as slim as possible.

II. READING

2.1. Understanding the title.

The title of the story written by Caroline Spring suggests the idea that some mysterious force interfered into daily routine. What do you expect the story to tell about?

2.2. Reading for pleasure and enrichment.

Read the story and answer the question: How and why did Ol' Bones change in the end? The following words will be useful for better understanding of the events.

Marble — hard white rock that becomes smooth when polished

Glacial — formed by huge masses of ice many years ago

Yowl — a long loud cry

Odourous — having a very strong smell

Sermon — religious talk given in church on special occasions

Rust — reddish brown substance that forms on wet metal

Scamper — to run with quick short steps

Gawk — to look at something in a stupid sort of way

Puny — small, thin and weak

Pinch — to press a part of flesh between your finger and thumb

Everybody knew Mr Stone. He was the scariest teacher at Barneyville Elementary. He was tall and skinny as a beanpole and walked like he hated gravity — back straight as a pew in Rev­erend Danley's church. His head was smooth, like polished marble, with pale, icy gray eyes sunk deep into it — the last remaining glacial islands in Mississippi. We figured if he ever smiled, it would crack his face right in two. He was the kind of man who made babies cry just by looking at them. Every soon-to-be fifth grader in Barneyville lived in dread of getting OF Stoney Bones.

When he had playground duty, we'd whisper the jump rope jingles and clap politely, never whistle, when somebody made a home run. Once this kid named Heff, the school bully, let out a yowl as he socked one over the left fielder. The minute he slid into home, OF Stoney carted him off to the principal's office, and Heavy Heff was quiet the rest of the year. We were scared into respect.

That's why none of us was brave enough to say anything about the squirrel. It was summer, and we were dripping sweat from ev­ery pore like human water fountains. A noticeable odorous steam rose from the class. Worst of all, we didn't have air conditioning. Ol' Stoney looked hot and miserable, too. He must have figured some extra oxygen would make us think harder, so he took his book, his chair, and his bag lunch and led us out under a big oak tree in the schoolyard.

The heat didn't stop Stoney from droning on about the Civil War, and we were forced to pinch ourselves awake and away from daydreaming about skinny-dippin' in the pond. About the time General Sherman was tearing through Atlanta, a gray squirrelclimbed down the tree and headed for Stoney's lunch bag, lying on the ground at his feet.

First it stopped, raised its front paws stealthily, and blinked at thirty weird-looking wood growths. Seeing us respectfully rooted to the ground, it went straight for the brown bag. If you've ever unwrapped a butterscotch candy during the preacher's sermon, then you know how much noise that squirrel was making with the bag. The incredible thing is that Stoney was missing it. He just kept plowing through the pages of our fiery history, his head buried in the book.

For the first few minutes, all we saw was a bushy tail, like a mostly eaten wad of gray cotton candy, sticking out of Stoney's lunch. We didn't dare look at each other. One peep, and we'd be goners. When the robber emerged, it had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in its paws. Stoney actually ate peanut butter and jelly? That was almost as amazing as Jimmy Snopp's little brother eating a snail he found in their lettuce patch. Bushy-tail took one look around and ran off with the loot.

Stoney Bones raised his head to look at us. We were as quiet as rust growing on a wheelbarrow and we went cold inside with fear that he'd ask us a question on the lesson. But he didn't. He cleared his throat, crossed his legs, and kept right on reading.

Five minutes hadn't passed when gray-'n-greedy returned. Without stopping to check us, it went straight for the goody bag. Again we heard the rattling, and this time we saw the bag somer­sault back and forth, from one end of Stoney's chair to the other, the gray flag waving outside. We expected any minute to see that squirrel picked up by its back end and toted off to the principal. Maybe Stoney Bones was tricking us. Maybe he was testing us to see how long we'd sit there like cats watching a goldfish. If he was, he never let us know about it. Stoney turned another page. He read something about illegal Confederate booty, and out came the gray thief with a Baby Ruth in its grasp. Stoney Bones ate Baby Ruths?

If you can believe it, that squirrel sat in front of thirty silently watering mouths, peeled the paper, and took a bite of the candy bar. It was almost too much to watch. Half the bar was gone before we could blink twice. The little glutton stuffed the other half in its mouth, scampered up the tree, and disappeared into its hole.

A minute later two greedy brown eyes popped back out of the booty burrow. The scoundrel prepared to launch a final attack on the remaining lunch. But before the squirrel got to the bottom of the tree, Mr. Stoney stopped reading and looked at his watch. Without a word, he closed his book and reached down for his bag.

Thirty deep intakes of air sounded at once. We froze. The squirrel froze. Even the oxygen atoms froze. Stoney frowned and knitted his brows. Rocking the puny lunch in one upraised hand, he glared at us.

"AH right", he growled, "which one of you did this?"

Cowardly critter ran back to the safety of its home while we sat gawking at each other, none of us able to say a word.

"All right, then, have it your way. Until my lunch is returned, we don't move from this spot, and if that takes a very long time, then I will have thirty STARVING students."

That's when Amy Patterson started to cry. She had a chocolate cupcake in her lunch and now she wouldn't get to eat it. Some of us tried to make her feel better by telling her the chocolate was prob­ably melted anyway, but tears kept gushing out like the water in those new irrigation ditches. It didn't seem right to make her cry like that, so a group of us got up enough courage to explain what had happened. Stoney promptly lined us up and marched us silently to the principal for not telling him sooner about his lunch.

In the principal's office, we heard a short lecture on common sense and were told to go eat our lunch and behave. We made out all right in the end though. The day after his lunch was stolen, Ol' Stoney brought a new electric fan to our classroom.

2.3. True of false?

1. Mr Stone was famous for his gentle nature.

2. The teacher had quite a speaking name.

3. The very mention of the teacher's name scared kids into respect.

4. The history class had to be moved out because of the heat.

5. Mr Stone was carried away too much to have noticed anything. The children were fascinated by the squirrel.

6. The incident caused severe punishment for some of the kids.

2.4. Points of view.

What did they mean by thinking so?

"We were scared into respect."

"One peep, and we'd be goners."

"Stoney actually ate peanut butter and jelly?"

"Stoney Bones ate Baby Ruths?"

"We were forced to pinch ourselves awake and away from daydreaming..."

"We made out all right in the end."

2.5. Storing vocabulary.

Fill in the gap with the appropriate words from the list below.

1. The pirates loaded their... on the ship and were gone.

2. If I had known the film would be that... I'd have never gone to watch it!

3. Hey, don't be such a...! Leave some of this cake for me.

4. The man was... on about his new project yet nobody was lis­tening.

5. The guard noticed a figure moving... in the shadows.

6. Having stormed the fortress, the attackers were busy collect­ing their....

7. The candidate made a... speech winning everybody's support.

Choose from: scary, booty, to drone, fiery, loot, stealthily, glutton.

2.6. Colloquial English.

The characters of the story speak English with traces of dialect in it. Render the sentences in Queen's English.

1. Ol` Stoney looked hot and miserable too.

2. We figured if he ever smiled it would crack his face in two.

3. We were forced to pinch ourselves awake and away from daydreaming about skinny-dippin' in the pond.

4. Five minutes hadn't passed when gray-'n-greedy returned.

2.7. Studying grammar.

The teacher must have marched his class outside due to the heat. What else could / might / should / would have happened?

1. The squirrel (smell) the tasty things in the lunchbox.

2. The kids (learn) about the Civil War but for the little squirrel.

3. The teacher (notice) the furry thief lest he hadn't been so absorbed.

4. The class (tell) the truth the moment the disappearance was discovered.

5. The principal (laugh) at the whole thing if Mr Stone hadn't been serious.

6. (your variant)

2.8. Why did they do it?

Infinitives are used in English as adverbial modifiers of purpose. Practice this aspect of grammar now with the help of the events of the story.

e.g. Mr Stone raised his head to look at the class.

The squirrel made for the bag...

The kids sat motionless (not)...

The teacher opened the history book...

The squirrel ran up the tree...

The teacher reached for his bag...

The children were taken to the principal...

Mr Stone bought an electric fan...

III. POST-READING

3.1. Feelings.

Discuss the emotions various young children were experiencing while listening to Mr Stoney's reading. Some of them were VERY frightened, others were EXCITED, of course, and there were some who... Decide on the emotion and speak about it.

3.2. Poetry corner.

Read the following poem written by Mary O'Neill and define its educational message as you see it. Is the situation described in the poem VERY different from the one described in the story? Please, compare and discuss.

MISS NORMA JEAN PUGH, First Grade Teacher

Full of oatmeal

And gluggy with milk

On a morning in springtime

Soft as silk

When legs feel slow

And bumblebees buzz

And your nose tickles from

Dandelion fuzz

And you long to

Break a few

Cobwebs stuck with diamond dew

Stretched right out

In front of you —

When all you want

To do is feel

Until it's time for

Another meal,

Or sit right down

In the cool green grass

And watch the caterpillars pass...

Who cares if

Two and two

Are four or five

Or red or blue?

Who cares whether

Six or seven

Come before or after

Ten or eleven?

Who cares if

C-A-T

Spells cat or rat

Or tit or tat

Or ball or bat?

Well, I do

But I didn't use to -

Until MISS NORMA JEAN PUGH!

She's terribly old

As people go

Twenty-one-or-five-or-six

Or so

But she makes a person want to

KNOW!

MORNINGS WITH GRANDMA I. PRE-READING

I. PRE-READING

1.1. SHARE some of your sweetest and tastiest recollections of childhood. Whose cooking meant home for you then?

1.2. QUESTION the correctness of the following popular saying: "The first child is the last doll, the first grandchild is thefirst child."

1.3. DiSCUSS your views on family upbringing. What should
prevail in the family, permissive attitude or restrictions?

II. READING

2.1. Understanding the title.

The title of the story written by David Jordan sounds very homely, doesn't it? What do you think it implies? Which word plays the most prominent role in the title?

2.2. Reading for pleasure and enrichment.

The following words will be useful for better understanding of the events.

Bawl — to cry loudly

Elongate — to make something longer than normal

Billow - to swell out like a sail

Maw — an animal's mouth or throat

Screech— to make an unpleasant high noise

Bellow — to shout in a deep and loud voice

Hurtle — to move or fall fast

In 1949, Chris Prescott lived with his Grandma Quinn in a big wooden house at the bottom of the Arthur Street hill in Liberty Falls, Nebraska. His mother lived in Los Angeles, where she worked as a secretary in an airplane factory. She planned to visit at Christmas. His father lived somewhere, probably, but no one ever talked about him. Chris didn't mind. He stayed busy with Grandma.

One morning a week, as soon as she had herded Uncle Wesley and Uncle Thad out of the house and off to school, Grandma turned to Chris and said, "Time for sledding!"

"Yaaay!" Chris cheered, dashing for the kitchen stairway and the second floor of the house. Grandma intended to change the sheets and pillowcases, and while she worked, five-year-old Chris was allowed to use the pillows from the beds for sliding on the slick hardwood floors.

Chris grabbed a feather pillow, held it in front of his belly with bent arms, and took a short run to build up speed. Then he dove to the floor of the long hall that connected the bedrooms and slid as far and as fast as he could. Grandma was the official judge of distance and artistic performance.

"Farthest one today!" she cried as his pillow-sled eased to a halt in the doorway of her room.

"New world record!" she shouted as he rocketed into Uncle Wesley's room and crashed into the corner of the dresser. "Are you hurt?"

"Look at that boy go!" she called as Chris j erked up on the corner of a sliding pillow and leaned to one side, making it spin in a lazy circle as it slowed to a stop.

Occasionally, Chris yielded to a reckless impulse and challenged the kitchen stairs. Hugging the pillow to his chest, he hurled himself down the uncarpeted stairway. Grandma didn't approve of stair­way-diving, so Chris never announced his intentions until he was in midair with the pillow poised before him.

"Look at me-e-e-e-e!"

"Chris! Stop! Wait! You little dickens! Are you bleeding?"

Although she disapproved, Grandma never grew angry about Chris's stair-sledding, even if he whacked his head and started bawling. She seemed to take the game as evidence of spunk. She told people Chris was a daredevil.

After the clean sheets and pillowcases were in place, Grandma wrestled the dirty bedclothes into a big bundle and carried them to the enclosed back porch where the washing machine sat. Oh, how Chris loved that washing machine!

It was a white metal cylinder on skinny legs. Mounted on one side of the cylinder were two white rubber rollers, covered partially by a metal hood. This was the wringer. Grandma put the clothes, soap, and water into the cylinder. Then, after the machine had washed and rinsed the clothes, she fed them between the two rollers and squished out most of the water. The clothes emerged from the far side of the rollers and settled into a large metal tub sitting on the floor. When the tub was full, Grandma shut off the wringer and hauled the clothes to the backyard, where she pinned them up on a sprawling set of clotheslines.

As soon as Grandma disappeared from sight, Chris went for the wringer. Its power to squeeze and elongate fascinated him. Feed a billowing wet sheet through there, and it emerged as long and skinny as a snake. A flat snake, like one that had been run over by-a bus, maybe. While Grandma was gone, Chris fished clothes out of the washer, mashed them in the wringer, caught them when they fell out the other side, and tossed them back in the water.

Sometimes, though, he grew more adventurous. He fed a leaf through the wringer. It disintegrated. He fed a piece of cinnamon toast through the wringer. It stuck to the rollers and made a gummy mess that went around and around and around. Finally, one day he stuck his fingertip in the wringer. The thing seized his finger, gobbled it up, and yanked his whole hand into its rubbery maw. Eaten alive!

He let out a screech. The mashing on his hand hurt, but more painful was his terror that the wringer was going to swallow him whole, eat him up, and maybe not even bother to spit him out like a flat snake. Chris screeched again. He howled. He bellowed.

"What's the matter? What's the matter?" cried Grandma as she reached the porch at a full gallop, clothespins scattering in all directions. "It's got me-e-e-ee!" Chris screamed.

She hurtled through the screen door, lunged to the washer, and flipped a clamp atop the wringer hood. The rollers parted. Chris's hand fell free. It was turning blue. Within a couple of hours, Chris's hand returned to normal. He had learned a lesson, however. After that day, he treated the wringer with respect. Oh, he fed an occa­sional beetle through it, but nothing serious. If he wanted to be a daredevil, he could always do some stair-sledding.

One morning a week, Grandma baked. She baked all of the family's bread, and most weeks she also made desserts — cinnamon rolls, cherry pies, chocolate cakes. All of her boys, Chris included, especially loved the rolls — crusty brown on top, chewy in the middle, sticky and sweet on the bottom from melted sugar and cinnamon. Fresh from the oven, they were as near to heaven as a five-year-old kid could hope to get.

Grandma always began her baking morning with a lot of pouring and mixing and beating and stirring, clotted glass bowls piling high in the sink for washing later. Eventually, she produced a huge wad of dough and plunked it down on a wooden carving board that slid from beneath the linoleum-topped kitchen counter. She wrestled her wad of dough around on the floury board, picking and pulling and tugging and stretching and slapping.

The flour worked its way up her forearms as she labored, until she was snowy white to the elbows. Little bits of dough stuck to her hands and wrists. Her face reddened with exertion, and beads of sweat glistened above her eyebrows. Her dark hair fell in strands across her forehead, tickling her skin. She batted at the hair with the back of one hand, leaving white streaks of flour across her forehead.

At long last, she plopped the dough into greased pans and, with lots of clattering and clanging, placed the pans in the oven. The kitchen filled with heat waves so thick you could see them and smells so lus­cious a person could almost faint from inhaling them. When the fin­ished product emerged from the oven, Grandma sniffed it, screwed up her face, and said sadly, "I wonder if it's any good this time."

"Let me see! I'll say! I'll say!"

Chris shouted, dashing to her side from his pirate's cave beneath the dining room table. "Ah, the Official Taster to the Kitchen Queen!" she exclaimed.

She cut a huge slab of steaming bread, if that was what she had, and coated it with butter and layered it with homemade strawberry preserves and handed it to Chris. "Well?" she said, hands on hips and eyebrows raised.

"Ith ghood!" Chris said, his mouth full of fresh, hot sweetness.

"Ahh," she said. "I'm glad."

Then she patted Chris on the head and turned away to set ev­erything out to cool.

If Grandma baked cinnamon rolls, Chris gobbled one dripping with butter. If she made pies, Chris munched cinnamon- and sugar-coated treats she created from crust trimmings. He ate so much he often had to skip lunch. Chris liked baking mornings the best. Or were sledding mornings his favorite? It would be tough to say. Anyway, (Chris and Grandma stayed busy. And Christmas was coming.

2.3. True or false?

1. Chris was growing in a single-parent family.

2. Grandmother gave him all the freedom he wanted.

3. Chris loved to make all kinds of mess.

4. The boy missed his parents but never showed that.

5. Grandmother was always busy and kept Chris likewise.

6. Grandmother thought cooking at home was a waste of effort.

7. Chris was never around when the cooking was being done.

2.4. Points of view.

What did they mean by exclaiming / screaming / asking etc. that?

"Look at that boy!"

"Wait! You little dickens!"

"Chris is a real daredevil."

"It's got mee-e-e!"

"Ah, the Official Taster to the Kitchen Queen!"

"I wonder if my breads are any good today."

2.5. Verbs in focus.

Match the verbs with their definitions. Translate the sentences below using the newly defined verbs.

	dash for	A	move your facial muscles in a spe­cial way
	yield to	B	throw oneself flat on the ground or floor
	screw up one's face	C	be in favour of something
	lunge to	D	let someone have the victory
	hurl oneself down	E	run very fast to get away from something.
	approve of	F	make a sudden strong movement towards

1. When he heard the sound, he... on the floor covering his head with both hands.

2. Both football teams... the ball.

3. When the sudden downpour began, the spectators... cover.

4. Though my parents... my choice, I changed my mind later.

5. Don't... the impulse to buy this thing! It's completely useless.

6. The child... and refused to take the medicine.

2.6. Storing vocabulary.

Fill in the gaps with the appropriate words from the list below.

1. By the end of the match both contestants could hardly move from physical...

2.... the patient slowly onto the bed.

3. The market stalls were full of... and inviting-looking fruit.

4. He is a... of a motorcyclist going at such enormous speed! "Catch it!" she said... her bag to her friend.

5. Everybody... when the firemen arrived.

6. It's dangerous... toxic fumes.

Choose from the following: cheer, ease, daredevil, toss, exertion, luscious, inhale.

2.7. Informal English.

The story is rich in informal expressions. They are worth practic­ing. Find colloquial equivalents in the story for the following:

1. "You are a little mischievous creature!" Grandmother ex­claimed.

2. The thing pulled his whole hand into its rubbery maw.

3. She seemed to take the game as the evidence of courage.

4. Sometimes Chris would hit his head and start crying.

5. The machine seized his hand and nearly swallowed it.

6. I don't know, it would be difficult to say right now.

2.8. Gerunds in focus.

Housework can be best described with the help of gerunds. Recollect the details telling readers about Grandma's numerous occupations.

e.g. Grandma always began her baking morning with a lot of pouring and mixing and beating and stirring. As for Chris, he...

III. POST-READING

3.1. Feelings.

Describe Grandmother's attitude to Chris, her 5-year-old grand­son. Why did she let him get away with so many things? Please, explain.

3.2. Poetry in everyday things.

Chris had a poetic imagination, didn't he? He seems to have a great ability to see the mysterious in everyday things. Recollect the episodes that show this ability of his clearly. Do you find it usual for a 5-year-old boy? What about 25-year-old teachers though? Discuss the point.

Дата добавления: 2015-11-16