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Файл:Практический курс первого иностранного языка (английский язык) для студентов 4 курса. Учебно-методическое пособие
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Louise went down without help. He moved to aid her, but she was gone even
before he bent.
The upper house was empty and silent in the candle-shine. Marion stood by
the slide. ―Here we go,‖ he said, and picked her up.
They sat in a vast circle in the cellar. Warmth came from the distant bulk of
the furnace. The chairs stood in a long line along each wall, twenty squealing
children, twelve rustling relatives, alternatively spaced, with Louise down at the far
end, Mich up at this end, near the stairs. He peered but saw nothing. They had all
grouped to their chairs, catch-as-you-can in the blackness. The entire programme
from here on was to be enacted in the dark, he as Mr. Interlocutor. There was a
child scampering, a smell of damp cement, and the sound of the wind out in the
October stars.
―Now!‖ cried the husband in the dark cellar.‖Quiet!‖
Everybody settled.
The room was black, black. Not a light, not a shine, not a glint of an eye.
A scraping of crockery, a metal rattle.
―The witch is dead,‖ intoned the husband.
―Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee,‖ said the children.
―The witch is dead, she has been killed, and here is the knife she was killed
with.‖ He handed over the knife. It was passed from hand to hand, down and
around the circle, with chuckles and little odd cries and comments from the adults.
―The witch is dead, and this is her head,‖ whispered the husband, and
handed an item to the nearest person.
―Oh, I know how this game is played,‖ some child cried, happily, in the
dark.‖He gets some old chicken innards from the icebox and hands them around
and says, ―These are her innards!‖ And he makes a clay head and passes it for her
head, and passes a soup bone for her arm. And he takes a marble and says, ―This is
her eye!‖ And he takes some corn and says, ―This is her teeth!‖ And he takes a
sack of plum pudding and gives that and says, ―This is her stomach!‖ ―I know
how this is played!‖
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―Hush, you'll spoil everything,‖ some girl said.
―The witch came to harm, and this is her arm,‖ said Mich.
―Eeeeeeeeeeee!‖
The items were passed and passed, like hot potatoes, around the circle. Some
children screamed, wouldn't touch them. Some ran from their chairs to stand in the
centre of the cellar until the grisly items had passed.
―Aw, it's only chicken insides,‖ scoffed a boy.‖Come back, Helen!‖
Shot from hand to hand, with small scream after scream, the items went
down, down, to be followed by another and another.
―The witch cut apart, and this is her heart,‖ said the husband.
Six or seven items moving at once through the laughing, trembling dark.
Louise spoke up.‖Marion, don't be afraid; it's only play.‖
Marion didn't say anything.
―Marion?‖ asked Louise. ―Are you afraid?‖
Marion didn't speak.
―She's all right,‖ said the husband.‖She's not afraid.‖
On and on the passing, the screams, the hilarity.
The autumn wind sighed about the house. And he, the husband stood at the
head of the dark cellar, intoning the words, handing out the items.
―Marion?‖ asked Louise again, from far across the cellar.
Everybody was talking.
―Marion?‖ called Louise.
Everybody quieted.
―Marion, answer me, are you afraid?‖
Marion didn't answer.
The husband stood there, at the bottom of the cellar steps.
Louise called ―Marion, are you there?‖
No answer. The room was silent.
―Where's Marion?‖ called Louise.
―She was here‖, said a boy.
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―Maybe she's upstairs.‖
―Marion!‖
No answer. It was quiet.
Louise cried out, ―Marion, Marion!‖
―Turn on the lights,‖ said one of the adults.
The items stopped passing. The children and adults sat with the witch's items
in their hands.
―No.‖ Louise gasped. There was a scraping of her chair, wildly, in the
dark.‖No. Don't turn on the lights, oh, God, God, God, don't turn them on, please,
don't turn on the lights, don't!‖ Louise was shrieking now. The entire cellar froze
with the scream.
Nobody moved.
Everyone sat in the dark cellar, suspended in the suddenly frozen task of this
October game; the wind blew outside, banging the house, the smell of pumpkins
and apples filled the room with the smell of the objects in their fingers while one
boy cried, ―I'll go upstairs and look!‖ and he ran upstairs hopefully and out around
the house, four times around the house, calling, ―Marion, Marion, Marion!‖ over
and over and at last coming slowly down the stairs into the waiting breathing cellar
and saying to the darkness, ―I can't find her.‖
Then... some idiot turned on the lights.
II. Comprehension check.
1. Say who in the story said it and in connection with what.
1) ―Oh, I must light the pumpkins!‖
2) ―How do I look, Papa?‖
3) ―Sorry, Mr. Wilder, your wife will never have another child.‖
4) ―Hi, Mr. Wilder!‖
5) How well he got on with children.
6) ―Hush, you'll spoil everything.‖
7) ―Marion, answer me, are you afraid?‖
8) ―Turn on the lights.‖
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9) ―I'll go upstairs and look!‖
deliberation
contemptuous
Indecision
bustling
inexplicable
Riot
denouncers
mortuary
Abandon
virility
respite
Scamper
immaculate
hilarity
Scoff
2. Match the words on the left with the words on the right.
1) green a) relative
2) luminous b) house
3) vast c) eyes
4) bustling d) bowls
5) numb e) items
6) rustling f) spring
7) grisly g) mind
8) contemptuous h) indecision
Make up sentences incorporating these word combinations.
3. Decide whether the following statements are true or false. Correct the
false ones.
1) By the screams of the children Mr. Wilder knew that it was the last
day of October.
2) Every October Mr. Wilder was filled with hilarity.
3) There were traces on the Mr. Wilder‘s face after his evening crying.
4) The rich syrupy smell of sweets filled the bustling house.
5) Louise avoided meeting with her husband pretending that she was
extremely busy.
6) Mr. Wilder couldn‘t leave Louse without hurting her.
7) The parents said that Mr. Wilder got on with children well.
8) Louse was Mrs. Interlocutor.
9) The children and grown ups were playing a game in the cellar.
III. Vocabulary work.
1. Look up the dictionary for the meaning of the following words:
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2. Pick out from the text nouns, verbs, adjectives, adverbs denoting
opposite emotions and arrange them into two columns. The first example is given:
+ -
e.g. hilarity sadness
3. Make up a list of words and phrases from the story that can be useful
while speaking about the Halloween. Compare your list with your group-mates.
4. Find in the text the synonyms for the following words:
trace
to help
to watch
to give up
to sneer
strength
5. Prepare the following passage for a good reading and literary
translation: ―From under the mask… Mitch had said eight years ago.‖
6. Explain the meaning of the following phrases and word-combinations in
English and use them in sentences (situations) of your own.
1) to adjust smth to smth;
2) to burn down into ruin;
3) to be in and out;
4) to scare the beans from smb;
5) to miss out;
6) to dash about;
5) inexplicable rush of pity for smb;
6) to wall off in smb.
IV. Discussion.
1. Explain what is meant by the following sentences:
1. There was an acid walled off in him that slowly had eaten through
tissue and bone over the years, and now, tonight, it would reach the wild explosive
in him and all would be over! 2. If he thought divorce would give her pleasure in
any way he would stay married the rest of his life to her.
2. Answer the questions and do the following assignments.
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A. 1. Give a sketch-portrait of Mr. Wilder. 2. Why did Mr. Wilder contempt
his wife? 3. How can you characterize the relations between:
a) Mr. Wilder and his wife; b) Mr. Wilder and his daughter. What kind of
problems did they have and why? 4. What were Mr. Wilder‘s ideas about solving
his problems? Do you think that there were some other ways to solve the problems
in this family? 5. How did Mr. Wilder communicate with the other children and
their parents? What were their opinions of him? 6. What kind of game did they
play? 7. Do you think that Mr. Wilder had planned everything beforehand? 8. Can
you guess how the story will end? Take turns in discussing the possible endings of
the story.
B. 1. Where is the story set? 2. What is the general atmosphere of the story?
3. How does the author create the atmosphere of suspense? 4. What is the role of
the contrast between the hilarity of the holiday and the sadness of Mr. Wilder‘s
thoughts? 5. What is the role of Mr. Wilder‘s interior monologue? Give examples.
6. Do you think that the title of the story is quite appropriate to the story? 7. What
method of character-drawing is used by the author? 8. What is your attitude to Mr.
Wilder? 9. Do you approve of his behavior? 10. Point out stylistic devices and
comment on them. 11. Analyse the story according to the suggested plan (see
Appendix).
From “THE SALT OF THE EARTH”
by S. Spencer
Sally Spencer was born and grew up in the North of England, where many of her
books are set. She has taught in England, Iran (where she witnessed the fall of the Shah)
and Spain. She now writes full-time and lives in Madrid. Her earlier books were sagas, but
in the recent years she has been concentrating on mysteries, featuring Chief Inpsector
Charlie Woodend (described by BOOKLIST as "an iconoclastic mixture of Rumpole and
Morse"). Five of these books, starting with THE SALTON KILLINGS, have been
published in the States, and three more are due out in the near future.
I. Read the extract, divide it into logical parts and entitle each.
As Ted Taylor and Harry Atherton approached the main gate of the mine
they saw two young men waiting there. One of them was dressed like the rest of
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the workers in an old jacket, flat cap and collar and tie. The other, however, looked
much smarter in his double-breasted jacket, top hat and cravat.
‗Who the h…hell are them young sods?‘ Harry Atherton asked.
‗They started here while you were off sick,‘ Ted Taylor said. ‗They‘re Len
Worrell‘s sons. He‘s already had them on the pans at his own works, and now he
wants ‘em to get experience of going down the mine.‘
‗So how c…come we got landed with ‘em?‘ Harry wondered.
‗I dunno,‘ Ted admitted. ‗Maybe Len‘s a friend of the gaffer‘s. Or maybe
it‘s just a case of the boss scratching the back of another. Whatever he reason,
the‘ve been working with me for the last fortnight.‘
‗And are they starting to shape up?‘ Atherton asked.
Taylor shrugged. ‗The younger one, Michael, is willing enough, but the
other, Richard, is hard work.‘
‗A bit thick, is he?‘ Atherton said.
‗No, he‘s not thick,‘ Taylor replied. ‗To be fair to him he seems quite clever.
It‘s just that he thinks he knows it all already. And if there‘s a corner to be cut you
can bet your last ha‘penny young Master Richard will cut it.‘
The older workers drew level with the younger men.
‗Are we about ready, Taylor?‘ Richard Worrell asked.
‗About ready,‘ Ted said gruffly.
He didn‘t like his surname being used by this whippersnapper. He‘d always
been ‗Ted‘ to Richard Worrell‘s father. Yes, and Worrell had always been ‗Len‘
for him – even after he‘d made his money. Still, times changed, didn‘t they?
People might talk about all this democracy, what with nearly every man having the
vote now, but it seemed to Ted Taylor there was a lot less democracy down the pit
than there used to be.
Len Worrell and the men like him might have been hard masters, he thought,
but at least they didn‘t treat us as if we were dirt. And they were always willing to
take the advice of workers who knew as much – or more – about the job as they
did.
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This new breed of manager was a different kettle of fish altogether. They’d
not started working when they were hardly more than boys, picking up their
education as they went along and ending up carving out little empires. No, it had
all been too easy for this generation with their soft life and their fancy schools.
What could an ignorant man like Ted Taylor teach them? they asked
themselves.
‗What are we doing today, Mr. Taylor?‘ Michael Worrell asked as they
walked towards the shaft.
‗Today, I think I‘m going to let you do some blasting of your own,‘ Taylor
told him.
‗We‘ve already done that,‘ Richard Worrell said churlishly.
‗I know you have,‘ Ted Taylor told him, ‗but only with me looking over
your shoulders. Now you‘ll be doing it all on your own. So for God‘s sake
remember everything I‘ve told you about making sure the explosive‘s well packed
down and… ‘
‗Yes, yes,‘ Richard Worrell said impatiently. ‗Let‘s get it over with. The
sooner we graduate the happier I‘ll be.‘
Graduate, eh? That‘d be one of the words he had learned at his fancy school,
wouldn‘t it? Ted Taylor had no idea what it meant. He’d just be glad when he‘d
taught this lad all he knew and could get him out of the bloody mine.
Behind him Ted Taylor could hear the clip-clop of horses‘ hooves and the
clank of iron wheels running along the rails. Ahead of him he could see Richard
Worrell in the last stages of fixing a charge to the wall of solid rock salt.
‗Finished!‘ Richard called over his shoulder.
Hands on his hips, Ted Taylor turned so he was facing back down the mine.
‗Blasting!‘ he shouted at the top of his voice.
And his words echoed through the long cavern bouncing off the walls and
roofs – ‗…asting…asting.‘
Taylor surveyed the scene. Everyone was clear.
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‗Right‘ he called to Richard Worrell. ‗Set the fuse and then get clear of the
blasting area.‘
Worrell lit the fuse and sprinted back to where Taylor was standing.
‗There‘s no need to run,‘ Ted told him. ‗Not if you‘ve done it properly. A
good explosives man should always leave himself time to get well away. And if he
really knows what he‘s doing, he should be able to judge the explosions so the
rock falls just where he wants it.‘
‗I know,‘ Richard Worrell replied, sounding bored. ‗You must have told me
a thousand times.‘
‗And I‘ll go on telling you until we‘re both blue in the face,‘ Ted Taylor
said, starting – not for the first time – to get rattled. ‗You can never be too careful
with explosives.‘
If young Worrell had made even a halfway decent job of it, the face should
blow soon. Taylor put his fingers in his ears and waited.
Ten seconds passed…twenty… thirty.
After he estimated that two minutes had ticked by, Ted Taylor lowered his
hands again.
‗Buggered it up, haven‘t you?‘ he asked Richard.
Worrell did not look over-concerned. ‗Perhaps the explosive was damp.‘
‗Damp!‘ Taylor echoed. ‗It‘s as dry as the bloody desert down here.‘
An amused smile flicked across Richard‘s lips. ‗Know about deserts, do we?
My, we are educated.‘
For a moment Taylor was on the point of hitting him. Then, with an effort,
he regained his self-control. If he did belt this cheeky young devil he would lose
his job – no question – and as Harry Atherton had said earlier, you‘d had to work if
you‘d got a family to feed.
‗Right!‘ Ted said striding angrily towards the rock face. ‗Let‘s go and find
out exactly what kind of pig‘s arse you‘ve made of the job, shall we?‘
But Richard Worrell made no effort to follow him.
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People wondered, later, just what Ted Taylor had thought he was doing. ‗He
was one of the most experienced blasters in the mine,‘ they said to one another.
‗He should have known – better than most – that you don‘t just walk up to an
unexploded charge like that.‘
Well, whatever had caused him to be so reckless they all agreed he‘d paid a
heavy price for it. He hadn‘t been more than ten yards from the rock face when
there‘d been a deafening explosion and huge chunks of salt crystal had shot
through the dry air like cannon balls.
Mary Taylor had been preparing the hot-pot for over half an hour, and was
just on the point of putting it in the oven when she heard the hammering on the
back door.
‗I won‘t be a minute,‘ she called over the shoulder.
But who could it be? she wondered. The men were all out at work at that
hour. As for the women they usually just tapped lightly, then poked their heads
round the door.
She slid the dish into the oven and closed the cast-iron door behind it. It was
lovely and warm in there, she thought, and the hot-pot should be nicely simmering
by the time Ted came home, tired and hungry, for his supper.
There was further hammering, more urgent than this time. Mary wiped her
hands on her apron and went to open the door.
Her heart sank when she saw who it was. Harry Atherton, who she knew to
be one of her husband‘s ferriers, was standing on the doorstep, his eyes wild, his
mouth flapping like a landed fish‘s.
‗What‘s the matter?‘ Mary asked.
‗There‘s b…been an accident,‘ Atherton gasped.
‗Ted! Is it my Ted?‘
Atherton nodded helplessly. ‗They‘re j…just bringing him up now. The
g…gaffer thought you should be there.‘
‗Is he… is he…?‘ Mary began, then found she could say no more.
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