Владимир Аракин - Практический курс английского языка 3 курс [calibre 2.43.0]

scholar of great ability (whose ability was not mean).

4. Make up two sentences of your own on each pattern.

5. Translate into English using the Speech Patterns:

Выходя из дома, Розмари не подозревала, что последующие два часа ее жизни окажутся такими необычными.

—Мадам, не дадите ли вы мне на чашку чая?

Розмари обернулась. Она увидела маленькое существо, с огромными глазами, девушку ее возраста, которая сжимала

воротник пальто покрасневшими руками и дрожала от холода.

—У вас совсем нет денег? — спросила Розмари.

—Нет, мадам, — сказала девушка и расплакалась.

Как необычно! Это было похоже на сцену из романа. Она не была простой нищенкой. А что если взять ее домой? И она

представила себе, как потом она будет говорить друзьям: «Я просто взяла ее с собой домой, вот и все!», и она сказала вслух:

А не хотите ли вы поехать пить чай ко мне?

Легкий завтрак преобразил девушку. Она перестала смущаться и лежала, откинувшись в глубоком кресле. Глядя на нее,

трудно было поверить, что совсем еще недавно она проливала слезы. Розмари продолжала украдкой наблюдать за ней.

Неожиданно в комнату вошел муж Розмари. Извинившись, он попросил Розмари пройти с ним в библиотеку.

—Объясни, кто она? — спросил Филипп. — Что все это значит?

Смеясь, Розмари сказала:

—Я подобрала ее на Курзон Стрит.

—Но что ты собираешься с ней делать?

—Я просто хочу быть добра с ней. Заботиться о ней, вот и все!

—Но, — произнес Филипп медленно, — она ведь изумительно красива.

—Красива? — Розмари так удивилась, что покраснела до корней волос. — Ты так думаешь?

Через полчаса Розмари вернулась в библиотеку.

—Я только хотела сказать тебе, что мисс Смит не будет обедать с нами сегодня. Я ничего не могла с ней поделать. Она не захотела даже взять

деньги.

(По рассказу «Чашка чая» К. Мансфилд)

6. Make up and act out in front of the class a suitable dialogue using the Speech Patterns.

TEXT

FIVE ART FOR HEARTS SAKE

By R.Goldberg

Reuben Lucius Goldberg (1883—1970), an American sculptor, cartoonist and writer was born in San Francisco. After graduating from the University of

California in 1904 he worked as a cartoonist for a number of newspapers and magazines. He produced several series of cartoons all of which were highly

popular.

Among his best works are Is There a Doctor in the House? (1929), Rube Goldberg's Guide to Europe (1954) and I Made My Bed (1960).

"Here, take your pineapple juice," gently persuaded Koppel, the male nurse.

"Nope!" grunted Collis P.Ellsworth.

"But it's good for you, sir."

"Nope!"

"It's doctor's orders."

"Nope!"

Koppel heard the front door bell and was glad to leave the room. He found Doctor Caswell in the hall downstairs. "I can't do a thing

with him," he told the doctor. "He won't take his pineapple juice. He doesn't want me to read to him. He hates the radio. He doesn't

like anything!"

Doctor Caswell received the information with his usual professional calm. He had done some constructive thinking since his last visit.

This was no ordinary case. The old gentleman was in pretty good shape for a man of seventy-six. But he had to be kept from buying

things. He had suffered his last heart attack after his disastrous purchase of that jerkwater 1 railroad 2 out in Iowa. 3 All his purchases

of recent years had to be liquidated at a great sacrifice both to his health and his pocketbook.

The doctor drew up a chair and sat down close to the old man. "I've got a proposition for you," he said quietly.

Old Ellsworth looked suspiciously over his spectacles.

"How'd you like to take up art?" The doctor had his stethoscope ready in case the abruptness of the suggestion proved too much for

the patient's heart.

But the old gentleman's answer was a vigorous "Rot!"4

"I don't mean seriously," said the doctor, relieved that disaster had been averted. "Just fool around with chalk and crayons. It'll be

fun."

"Bosh!" 5

"All right." The doctor stood up. "I just suggested it, that's all."

"But, Caswell, how do I start playing with the chalk — that is, if I'm foolish enough to start?"

"I've thought of that, too. I can get a student from one erf the art schools to come here once a week and show you."

Doctor Caswell went to his friend, Judson Livingston, head of the Atlantic Art Institute, and explained the situation. Livingston

had just the young man — Frank Swain, eighteen years old and a promising student. He needed the money. Ran an elevator at night

to pay tuition. How much would he get? Five dollars a visit. Fine.

Next afternoon young Swain was shown into the big living room. Collis P. Ellsworth looked at him appraisingly.

"Sir, I'm not an artist yet," answered the young man.

"Umph?" 6

\Swain arranged some paper and crayons on the table. "Let's try and draw that vase over there on the mantelpiece," he suggested.

"Try it, Mister Ellsworth, please."

"Umph!" The old man took a piece of crayon in a shaky hand and made a scrawl. He made another scrawl and connected the two

with a couple of crude lines. "There it is, young man," he snapped with a grunt of satisfaction. "Such foolishness. Poppycock!" 7

Frank Swain was patient. He needed the five dollars. "If you want to draw you will have to look at what you're drawing, sir."

Old Ellsworth squinted and looked. "By gum, 8 it's kinda 9 pretty, I never noticed it before."

When the art student came the following week there was a drawing on the table that had a slight resemblance to the vase.

The wrinkles deepened at the corners of the old gentleman's eyes as he asked elfishly, 10 "Well, what do you think of it?"

"Not bad, sir," answered Swain. "But it's a bit lopsided."

"By gum," Old Ellsworth chuckled. "I see. The halves don't match." He added a few lines with a palsied hand and colored 11 the

open spaces blue like a child playing with a picture book. Then he looked towards the door. "Listen, young man," he whispered, "I

want to ask you something before old pineapple juice comes back."

"Yes, sir," responded Swain respectively.

"I was thinking could you spare the time to come twice a week or perhaps three times?"

"Sure, Mister Ellsworth."

"Good. Let's make it Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Four o'clock."

As the weeks went by Swain's visits grew more frequent. He brought the old man a box of water-colors and some tubes of oils.

When Doctor Caswell called Ellsworth would talk about the graceful lines of the andirons. He would dwell on the rich variety of

color in a bowl of fruit. He proudly displayed the variegated smears of paint on his heavy silk dressing gown. He would not allow his

valet to send it to the cleaner's. He wanted to show the doctor how hard he'd been working.

The treatment was working perfectly. No more trips downtown to become involved in purchases of enterprises of doubtful

solvency.

The doctor thought it safe to allow Ellsworth to visit the Metropolitan, 12 the Museum of Modern Art 13 and other exhibits with

Swain. An entirely new world opened up its charming mysteries. The old man displayed an insatiable curiosity about the galleries

and the painters who exhibited in them. How were the galleries run? Who selected the canvases for the exhibitions? An idea was

forming in his brain.

When the late spring sun began to cloak the fields and gardens with color, Ellsworth executed a god-awful smudge which he

called "Trees Dressed in White". Then he made a startling announcement. He was going to exhibit it in the Summer show at the

Lathrop Gallery!

For the Summer show at the Lathrop Gallery was the biggest art exhibit of the year in quality, if not in size. The lifetime dream

of every mature artist in the United States was a Lathrop prize. Upon this distinguished group Ellsworth was going to foist his "Trees

Dressed in White", which resembled a gob 14 of salad dressing thrown violently up against the side of a house!

"If the papers get hold of this, Mister Ellsworth will become a laughing-stock. We've got to stop him," groaned Koppel.

"No," admonished 15 the doctor. "We can't interfere with him now and take a chance of spoiling all the good work that we've ac -

complished."

To the utter astonishment of all three — and especially Swain — "Trees Dressed in White" was accepted for the Lathrop show.

Fortunately, the painting was hung in an inconspicuous place where it could not excite any noticeable comment. Young Swain

sneaked into the Gallery one afternoon and blushed to the top of his ears when he saw "Trees Dressed in White", a loud, raucous

splash on the wall. As two giggling students stopped bfefore the strange anomaly Swain fled in terror. He could not bear to hear what

they had to say.

During the course of the exhibition the old man kept on taking his lessons, seldom mentioning his entry in the exhibit. He was

unusually cheerful.

Two days before the close of the exhibition a special messenger brought a long official-looking envelope to Mister Ellsworth

while Swain, Koppel and thу doctor were in the room. "Read it to me," requested the old man. "My eyes are tired from painting."

"It gives the Lathrop Gallery pleasure to announce that the First Landscape Prize of $1,000 has been awarded to Collis

P.Ellsworth ^fgr his painting, "Trees Dressed in White"."

Swain and Koppel uttered a series of inarticulate gurgles. Doctor Caswell, exercising his professional self-control with a supreme

effort, said: "Congratulations, Mister Ellsworth. Fine, fine ... See, see ... Of course, I didn't expect such great news. But , but — well,

now, you'll have to admit that art is much more satisfying than business."

"Art's nothing," snapped the old man. "I bought the Lathrop Gallery last month."

EXPLANATORY NOTES

1. jerkwater (Am. colloq.): small, unimportant.

2. railroad (Am.): railway. The lexical differences between the British and American English are not great in number but they are