Lesson 3

Texts: Text " Mr Know – All" by S. Maugham. Dialogues " Booking

a Flight". Additional Texts.

Topic: Travelling.

Text 3

William Somerset Maugham was born in 1874 and lived in Paris till he was ten as his father was an official at the British Embassy in France. After graduating from a medical college he spent some time at St. Thomas' Hospital with the idea of practising medicine. But the success of his first novel "Lisa of Lambeth" (1897), won him over to writing. " Of human bondage", the first of his masterpieces, came (1919), his reputation as novelist was established. His position as one of the most successful playwrights on the London stage was being consolidated simultaneously. Only Bernard Shaw had more plays running at the same time in London. Maugham's first play was " A Man of Honour" (1903), later – "Our Betters", " The Circle" and his other plays appeared. Among his novels are also: " Theatre", "Cakes and Ale", "The Razor's Edge", " The Narrow Corner", " The Summing Up".

Maugham's first story " The Trembling of a Leaf" brought him real fame and since then he has been one of the most popular and best-loved short-story writers. He published more than ten collections of stories.

But critics never loved Maugham considering him cynical as he was telling the bitter truth of life in his books. Maugham's irony, his subtle psychology, his language and brilliant sense of humour make him so popular with the readers.

Maugham used to say he refused to judge people and the society as a whole. Nevetherless his novels, plays, stories reveal the evils of the society he lived in. His thrilling stories, his characters do not leave the reader indifferent. They stir his imagination, make him analyze things, choose between what he thinks true or fake, good or evil, which is not always very simple with Maugham's characters. His characters are always very complicated. But it is this very feature that makes true to life. This seems to be one of the main reasons that makes the reader appreciate Maugham, name him among the best English writers.

Mr know - all

By S. Maugham

I was prepared to dislike Mr Kelada before I knew him. The war had just finished and the passenger trafic on the ocean-going liners was heavy. Accommodation was very hard to get and you had to put up with whatever the agents chose to offer you. You could not hope for a cabin to yourself and I was thankful to be given one in which there were only two berths. But when I was told the name of my companion, my heart sank. It was bad enough to share a cabin for fourteen days with anyone, but I should have looked upon it with less dismay if my fellow-passenger's name had been Smith or Brown.

When I went on board I found Mr Kelada's luggage already below. I did not like the look of it: there were too many labels on the suitcases and his wardrobe trunk was too big. I did not at all like Mr Kelada. I made my way to the smoking – room and began to play patience. I had scarcely started before a man came up to me and asked if he was right in thinking my name was so – and – so.

• I am Mr Kelada, - he added with a smile.

• Oh, yes, we are sharing a cabin, I think.

• Bit of luck, I call it. You never know who are you going to be put in with. I was jolly glad when I heard you were English. I am for us English sticking together, when we are abroad, if you understand what I mean.

• Are you English? – I asked, perhaps, tactlessly.

• British to the backbone, that's what I am. – To prove it Mr Kelada took out his passport and waved it under my nose.

Mr Kelada was short, clean-shaved, with a hooked nose and very large, liquid eyes.

His long black hair was sleek and curly. He spoke with a fluency in which there was nothing English. I fell pretty sure that Mr Kelada was born under a bluer sky than is generally seen in England. Mr Kelada was chatty.

• Do you like card tricks? – he asked.

• No, I hate card tricks, - I answered.

• Well, I'll just show you this one. – He showed me three. It never occurred to him that he was not wanted. In three days he knew everybody on board. He was certainly the best-hated man on the ship. The possibility that he could be mistaken never occurred to him. We called him Mr Know-All, even to his face. He took it as a compliment.

One evening at dinner the conversation by chance drifted to the subject of pearls. We sat

at the doctor's table. Mr Kelada would certainly have had it all his own way (for the doctor was lazy and I was frigidly indifferent), except for a man called Ramsey who sat there also.

Ramsey was in the African Consular Service at Kobe. He was on his way back to resume his post, having been on flying visit to New-York to fetch his wife, who had been spending a year at home. Mrs Ramsey was a very pretty little thing, with pleasant manners and a sence of humour. The Consular service is ill paid, and she was dressed always very simply; but she knew how to wear her clothes. Mr Kelada, as was his habit, rushed the new topic. He told us all that was to be known about pearls. He pointed to the chain that Mrs Ramsey wore.

• You take my word for it , Mrs Pamsey, that chain you're wearing will never be worth

a cent less than it is now. – Mr Ramsey smiled:

• I'd be interested to know how much you think it cost.

• Oh, somewhere round fifteen thousand dollars.

• You'll be surprised to hear that Mrs Ramsey bought that string at a department store the day we left New-York, for 18 dollars. – Mr Kelada flushed!

• Well, I ought to know what I am talking about. I'm going to Japan just to look into this Japanese pearl business. – Here was news for us, for Mr Kelada had never told anyone what his business was. It's not only real, but it's as fine a string as I've ever seen.

• Will you bet on it? I bet you a hundred dollars it's imitation.

• Done. Let me look at the chain. He took a magnifying glass and closely examined the chain. A smile of triumph spread over his face. He handed back the chain. He was about to speak. Suddenly he caught sight of Mrs Ramsey's face. It was so white that she looked as though she were about to faint. She was staring at him with wide and terrified eyes. It was so clear that I wondered why her husband didn't see it.

Mr Kelada stopped with his mouth open. You could almost see the effort he was making over himself.

• I was mistaken, - he said, - it is a very good imitation. – He took out his pocket book and from it a hundred-dollar note. He handed it to Ramsey without a word.

• Perhaps, that'll teach you never to be so coeksure another time, my young friend, - said Mr Ramsey as he took the note. I noticed that Mr Kelada's hands were trembling.

The story spread over the ship as stories do.

Next morning I got up and began to shave. Mr Kelada lay on his bad smoking a cigarette. Suddenly I saw a letter pushed under the door. I picked up the letter and saw it was addressed to Mr Kelada. I handed it to him.

He took out of the envelope, not a letter, but a hundred-dollar note. He looked at me and reddened.

• No one likes being made to look a perfect fool, - he said.

• Were the pearls real?

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

At that moment I did not entirely dislike Mr Kelada. He reached out for his pocket-book and carefully put in it the hundred-dollar note.