Приложение b Тексты для индивидуальной самостоятельной работы студентов On the skating-rink

Katherine was late, and MacGregor sat on a bench on the skating-rink, waiting for her. He was blue with cold even though he was trying to warm himself. At last Katherine arrived, carrying two pairs of skating boots. MacGregor stood up quickly and nearly slipped on the ice. He looked at her and smiled a little, not knowing what to expect of her.

"You look so serious. Here are your skates," she said sitting down on the bench.

"Thank you." He sat down near her.

"Do you really want to skate?" He glanced at the boots in his hand. She didn't look up.

"What else?" she said.

"I wanted to talk to you," he said again.

"Oh. What about?" she repeated.

He was surprised. "Isn't there anything to talk about?"

Katherine seemed to take no notice of his words.

"You're certainly very serious this morning," she said.

MacGregor tried again. "It's difficult to explain all this, Katherine."

"What do you want to explain?" She stood up on her skates.

"Myself to begin with," he said. He took off one of his boots. He didn't hurry. It took him rather a long time to pull on one of the skating boots.

"It's very important for both of us," he said. "You see ..."

"Come on," she interrupted. "Get your skates on."

"I don't want to skate," he said with as much control as possible.

"Aren't you going to try?"

A single look at MacGregor was enough to show Katherine that he wouldn't be able to make a single step or the skates. Yet she didn't stop him, even though she wanted to.

He was standing up, but he wasn't smiling.

"Come on," she said.

He moved forward and immediately fell on the ice.

Katherine laughed.

MacGregor was red, and he tried to smile.

"You're rather out of practice, I should say."

MacGregor tried to calm the anger which was rising in him.

"I don't think I'm much good at skating," he said. "I just wanted to talk to you, Katherine."

Katherine didn't laugh. She stood near him while he lay there a moment. She could see his hands trembling as he sat up and started to take off his boots.

"I didn't come out to be laughed at," he said slowly with terrible calm. He took off his skating boots and walked across the ice to the opposite side of the skating-rink.

Answer the question: What did he want to say? The Weather Forecast

George got hold of the paper, and read us out the forecast, which prophesied "rain, cold, wet to fine" (whatever that may be), "occasional local thunder-storms, east wind, with general depression over the Midland Counties (London and the Channel) bar. falling."

Of all the silly, irritating tomfoolishness, this "weather forecast" fraud is about the most aggravating. It "forecasts" precisely what happened yesterday or the day before, and precisely the opposite of what is going to happen today.

I remember a holiday of mine being completely ruined one late autumn by our paying attention to the weather report of the local newspaper. "Heavy showers, with thunderstorms may be expected today," it would say on Monday, and so we would give up our picnic and stop indoors all day, waiting for the rain. And people would pass the house, going off as jolly and merry as could be, the sun shining out, and not a cloud to be seen.

"Ah! we said, as we stood looking out at them through the window, "won't they come home soaked!" And we chuckled to think how wet they were going to get. By twelve o'clock, with the sun pouring into the room, the heat became quite oppressive, and we wondered when those heavy showers and occasional thunder-storms were going to begin.

"Ah! they'll come in the afternoon, you'll find," we said to each other. "Oh, won't those people get wet. What a lark!" And when the afternoon was almost gone, and still there was no sign of rain, we tried to cheer ourselves up with the idea that it would come down all at once, just as the people had started for home, and were out of the reach of any shelter, and that they would thus get more drenched than ever. But not a drop of rain ever fell...

The next day we would read that it was going to be a "Warm, fine day; much heat"; and we would dress ourselves in flimsy things, and go out, and half an hour after we had started, it would commence to rain hard, and a bitterly cold wind would spring up, and both would keep on steadily for the whole day, and we would come home with colds and rheumatism, and go to bed.

The weather is a thing that is beyond me altogether. I never can understand it. George said it was evident we were going to have a prolonged spell of grand weather some time.