ON READING G303

 ON READING

The Authors' Club

London, S. W.1

2nd January, 19_

Dear Francisco,

I'm glad to know you enjoyed the books I sent you for Christmas. Your letter of thanks was very well written and I congratulate you on being able to write so well.

You ask me for advice on reading. That's a very difficult request. I always hesitate to advise my friends on what to read. How can I possibly know what will interest other people? And you don't say in your letter what you want to read.

What you do say is that you're very fond of reading, and I'm delighted by that. Do you know the essays of Francis Bacon, who lived about the same time as Shakespeare? They're full of good advice about reading. Here is a bit from the essay “Of Studies.”

“Some books are to be tasted, others to be swallowed, and some few to be chewed and digested.”

I can't give you better advice than that. It tells you how to read books of different kinds. I suppose most travel books are “to be tasted”; it's enough to dip into them and read bits here and there. If you're fond of stories, you will, if you're like me, read them quickly; you'll “swallow” them. And then there are books that you'll read slowly and carefully. If a book's on an important subject and a subject you're interested in, you'll want to “chew and digest” it.

If the book's in English, that may mean slow progress for you. But I don't advise you to read too slowly. When I was living in Tokyo many years ago, I used to go to the second-hand bookshops. They were full of English books. The first twenty or thirty pages of many of them had their margins filled with pencilled notes and there were dozens of words and phrases underlined. The owners, probably earnest students, had started out very seriously, determined to master the books. Then, as I turned the pages over, I found clean white margins, with not a single note. It was clear that the reader had given up in despair.

I suppose that's a common experience in many countries with books in a foreign language. The reader starts out, full of hope and determination. Then the need to turn to a dictionary or a reference book, perhaps ten or even twenty times a page, tires him out.

There are two or three answers to this problem. The first is: Don't start reading a book unless you see, from the first few pages, that it's one you can read with ease and understanding. Don't try to run before you can walk. There are plenty of books that have been rewritten in simple language— and shortened too, if necessary.

My second answer to this question of difficult vocabulary is, I think, a much better one. Don't stop every time you come to a word or phrase you don't know. Read the whole chapter quickly. Quite often you'll find the unknown word comes again, perhaps several times, and by the end of the chapter you'll have guessed its meaning. That's how we learn the meaning of words in our own language, isn't it? When we' re children, I mean. When I'm telling a story to children, they seldom stop to ask what a word means. Even when they read, they don't turn to the dictionary every time they see an unknown word.

Read a chapter quickly, and then go back and read it more slowly. This time, use your reference books when necessary. But try to judge what is worth looking up and what is not.

You'll tell me that it's difficult, very often, for you to judge whether an unknown word is important or not. I agree that this is often true. But it's not always difficult. You're going to be an architect, so words used in architecture are important to you. If they're new to you, you'll look them up. But if the reader is not interested in architecture, he could pass them by. They're not at all necessary for his enjoyment of the book.

When I read my *Times* these days I often find articles about the uses of atomic energy. There are sometimes words I don't know—and some of them are so new that they're not yet in the dictionaries. But I'm slowly beginning to understand what some of the words mean—simply by meeting them so often.

Well, that's my advice to you. I hope you'll find it helpful. It isn't perfect, I know. There will be times when, if you decide not to look up a reference, you'll miss something that may be important.

But I feel I'm right in advising you not to be too thorough in your use of reference books—except when you're studying your own special subject. If you're too thorough, you'll lose heart and perhaps give up.

Good luck to you in your reading. Do write again, and if you think I can help you in any way, please don't hesitate to ask.

Yours ever,

John Churchman

A GERMAN STAMP G302

 A GERMAN STAMP

Mr Amory, a businessman

Mallet, his manservant

Mr Ramsay, a visitor to the house

*The sitting-room of Amory's house in London. It is a few minutes past seven o'clock on a cold October evening in 1946. Amory is standing with his back to the fire. Mallet is busy with glasses and drinks which are standing on a table near one of the walls.*

Amory: We'll have dinner at eight o'clock, Mallet. Please, tell your wife.

Mallet: Yes, sir.

Amory: Your wife is sometimes a little late with the dinner, Mallet.

Mallet: I'm sorry, sir. She didn't work before the war. I wasn't a servant before I met you in the war, and my wife stayed at home and took care of me. When my dinner was late, sir, it didn't matter much. 

Amory (taking a stamp from a small table): Look at this, Mallet. Can you see anything unusual about it?

Mallet: It's a stamp, sir. Is it unusual?

Amory: Very. Look at the head on it.

Mallet: Yes, sir. The head's upside down. That is rather unusual, isn't it?

Amory: It certainly is. Have you ever seen a stamp like this in your life?

Mallet: No, sir; never. Where did you get it?

Amory: At the post office. I was posting thirteen letters and I bought stamps for them. Twelve of the stamps were of the usual kind. This was the thirteenth. I was just going to put it on the envelope when I noticed the head. So I kept it.

Mallet: Very wise, I'm sure, sir.

Amory: Yes. Some people will pay a lot of money for a stamp like this. Perhaps Mr Ramsay will.

Mallet: Is he the gentleman who's coming to dinner tonight, sir?

Amory: He is.

Mallet: Does he know that you have the stamp, sir?

Amory: Yes. I wrote to him about it. He may give me two or three hundred pounds for this stamp. He's a rich man and he has a lot of strange stamps. So tell your wife to have dinner ready at eight o'clock. Mr Ramsay will be here soon. He's coming from Scotland, and he's on his way to Dover. He'll want a good dinner after his long journey.

Mallet: I'll tell my wife, sir.

(The sound of a taxi is heard outside the house.)

Amory: Here he is now. Rather early. Go and bring him in, and then be ready to give us drinks.

Mallet (going out of the room): Yes, sir.

(Amory moves one of the chairs nearer to the fire and puts a small table near it. Mallet returns with Ramsay.)

Mallet: Mr Ramsay, sir. (Mallet goes to the drinks.)

Amory: Good evening, Ramsay. I'm very glad to see you. Come in and sit down.

Ramsay: Good evening, Amory. Thanks. (Sits down.)

Amory: Did you have a good journey? Will you have a drink?

Ramsay: Thanks. I need one. I'm glad to be out of that taxi alive.

(Mallet brings two drinks and gives them to Ramsay and Amory.)

Ramsay: Thanks.

Amory: Thank you, Mallet. (He speaks to Ramsay.)

What happened in your taxi?

(Mallet goes out of the room.)

Ramsay: The driver nearly killed me. He drove too fast. We nearly killed a man who was crossing the street. I told the driver to go slowly, but he wouldn't listen.

Amory: I'm surprised. Most of our London taxi-drivers are very careful. They're good drivers usually.

Ramsay: Yes, nearly always. But not quite always.

(Mallet returns and stands by the drinks.)

Amory: I've always found them safe enough.

Ramsay: Yes, they're often too slow for me. But once before I was driven too fast. It was many years ago. About 1939,I believe.

Amory: That's a long time ago. Why do you remember it after so many years?

Ramsay: Because I lost something. It was all very strange; very strange. I reached Victoria station and ran out to find a taxi. I wanted to go to King's Cross station to catch a train.

Amory: The other side of London.

Ramsay: Yes. I hadn't much time. I got into the taxi and the driver started off at once and drove much too fast. I said nothing at first because I wanted to catch that train. But the man drove very badly, and he wasn't going the right way. I got angry.

Amory: Perhaps he knew a better way to King's Cross.

Ramsay: I don't think so. He drove along a lot of small streets that I didn't know at all. He went faster and faster. It wasn't safe. I asked him to go the right way to the station, but he didn't listen to me. He seemed to be in a very strange state of mind. He just went on and on. I was lost. I didn't remember any of the streets.

Amory: London taxi-drivers know all the small streets. Sometimes they use them to save time. The bigger streets are full of cars. Mallet, Mr Ramsay wants another drink, please.

Mallet (taking Ramsay's glass): Yes, sir.

Ramsay: Thanks. My driver took me far out of my way. Then, in a small street somewhere, he stopped the taxi and looked out of his window. I told him to go on. I didn't want to miss my train. But he got out.

(Mallet drops Ramsay's glass on the floor.)

Amory (looking round at Mallet): Must you do things like that, Mallet? Bring Mr Ramsay another glass.

Mallet (quietly): Yes, sir. I'm sorry.

Ramsay: The taxi-driver left me in the taxi and ran into a doorway near a shop.

(Mallet listens with a troubled face.)

Amory (surprised): Left you in the taxi?

Ramsay: Yes, he did just that. I got out to look for another taxi, but of course there weren't any there. The driver was away for about two minutes and then he came out of the doorway again. I got back into the taxi, but the driver ran into the shop. I waited. What else could I do? But then he came back to the taxi. (Mallet gives Ramsay a drink.) Thanks.

(Mallet goes out of the room.)

Amory: Where has that man gone now? What happened next?

Ramsay: The driver took me as fast as he could to King's Cross station.

Amory: Did you catch your train?

Ramsay: Yes, I just caught it. I've often wanted to meet that driver again. I lost a stamp that day. Perhaps I left it in the taxi.

Amory: What kind of stamp?

Ramsay: It was a German stamp and it was still on its envelope. The postmark was clear. The date was clear too: July 1st. Those stamps were sold for the first time on July 1st, and so I was very sorry to lose that envelope. I've often tried to find another like it, but there aren't many in the world. The German post offices didn't sell any more stamps like that after about a week. There was something wrong with the name of the country on them.

Amory: How did you get the stamp?

Ramsay: I bought it. It cost quite a lot of money. And now those stamps cost even more.(Mallet returns with an envelope in his hand.

He gives it to Ramsay.)

Mallet: Is this yours, sir?

Ramsay(looking at the envelope):Mine? Oh, look at this! Well, well, well! Where did you get this? Yes, it's mine. It's the lost stamp. I can't believe it! How did you get it? The same envelope! The same German writing! Who gave you this?

Mallet(quietly): You left it in the taxi, sir. I was the taxi-driver.

Amory and Ramsay(together): You?!

Mallet: Yes, sir. I drove a taxi before the war.

Amory: Do you mean that you are the driver who left Mr Ramsay in a taxi and ran into a shop?

Mallet (in a low voice): Yes, sir.

Amory: But why did you do that? Tell us, man.

There must be a reason. Taxi-drivers don't usually do things like that.

Mallet: My wife was ill, sir. She was in bed and she was alone.

Amory: Why didn't you stay with her?

Mallet: I had to get some money, sir, with my taxi. We needed money. I went to Victoria station and Mr Ramsay got into my taxi. I didn't know him then, of course. He wanted to go to King's Cross. I took him along those small streets so that I could see my wife's bedroom window.

Ramsay: Why?

Mallet: She was alone in her room, in bed. When she wanted me, she turned her light on. When it wasn't turned on, she wasn't very ill. That was our plan, sir.

Ramsay: I see. And on that day ...

Mallet: When I stopped the taxi on that day and looked up at the window of her room, I saw the light. It was turned on, sir. You could just see it from the side of the street.

Amory: So you knew that she needed help.

Mallet: Yes, sir. I ran into the house to see her. She was very bad. I thought that she was dying.

Ramsay: But after you came back, you ran into the shop. Why did you do that?

Mallet: There was a telephone in the shop. I telephoned to the doctor. Then I ran back to the taxi and took you to King's Cross.

Ramsay: I see; I see. Yes, I understand now. But I was rather angry at the time. I said a lot of unkind things to you. I'm sorry.

Mallet: It didn't matter, sir. You wanted to catch your train and you didn't know about my wife's illness.

Ramsay: Well, I'm very glad to have this stamp again. Thank you very much. Why did you keep it?

Mallet: I knew that it was yours, sir, but I didn't know your name or your address. The address on the envelope isn't English. It's a place in Germany. Once I nearly posted it to Germany, but, to tell you the truth, I didn't want to spend money on a stamp. Then the war started and I went to fight. When I came home again last year, I found the envelope in a book. I never did anything more about it. But when I heard your story, sir, I remembered it; and there it is.

Ramsay: Well, I'm very glad. Thank you very much again. I'm glad that I came to see you, Amory. This is a great day for me. Did your wife get better, Mallet?

Mallet: Yes, thank you, sir. She got better, but the doctor was glad that I telephoned. She's getting your dinner ready now. I'll just go and see her now. It's five minutes to eight. I'll serve dinner in five minutes, sir. (He goes out.)

PERSEVERANCE G301

 PERSEVERANCE

Many years ago I stepped into a bookstore in Cincinnati in search of some books that I wanted. While I was there, a poor little boy, not over twelve years of age, came in to ask whether they had geographies to sell.

“Plenty of them,” was the salesman's reply.

“How much do they cost?”

“One dollar, my lad.”

“I didn't know they cost so much.”

He turned to go out and even opened the door, but closed it again and came back. “I have only sixty-two cents,” he said. “Will you let me have the book and wait a little while for the rest of the money?”

How eagerly the lad looked for an answer, and how disappointed he seemed when the man refused him his request! The little fellow looked up at me with a weak smile, and left the store. I followed him.

“And what now?” I asked.

“I shall try another place, sir.”

“Do you mind if I go too and see how you succeed?”

“If you like,” he said in surprise.

Four different stores I entered with him, and four times I saw the boy's face turn to disappointment.

“Are you going to try again?” I asked.

“Yes, sir. I shall try them all, or I shall not know whether I could get one.”

We entered the fifth store and the little fellow walked straight up and told the gentleman just what he wanted and how much money he had.

“Do you want the book very much?” asked the bookseller.

“Yes, sir, very much.”

“Why do you want it so much?”

“To study, sir. I cannot go to school, but when I have time I study at home All the boys have geographies and they will be ahead of me if I do not get one. Besides, my father was a sailor, and I want to know about the places he used to go to.”

“Does he go to those places now?”

“He is dead,” replied the boy, softly. In a moment he added, “I'm going to be a sailor, too.”

“Are you, my boy?” asked the gentleman, raising his eyebrows curiously.

“Yes, sir, if I live.”

“Well, my lad, I'll tell you what I will do. I'll let you have the new geography and you may pay me the remainder of the money when you can, or I will let you have one that is not new for fifty cents.”

“Are the leaves all in it and is it just like the others, only not new?”

“Yes, it's as good as the new ones.”

“It'll do just as well then, and I shall have twelve cents left to buy some other book. I'm glad they didn't let me have one at any of the other places.”

At the boy's last remark the bookseller looked at him. What did the boy mean? I told him what I had seen and heard at the five other places. When the boy had bought the book, the bookseller gave him a nice new pencil and some clean white paper.

“A present, my lad, for your perseverance. Always have courage like that and you will make your mark,” said the bookseller.

“Thank you, sir, it's very kind of you.”

“What is your name, my lad?”

“William Hartley, sir.”

“Do you want any more books?” I now asked, earnestly regarding the boy's serious face.

“More than I can ever get,” he replied.

I gave him two dollars. “The money will buy some for you,” I said.

Tears of joy came into his eyes.

“May I buy what I want with it?”

“Yes, my lad, whatever you want.”

“Then I'll buy a book for Mother,” he said. “I thank you very much, and some day I hope I can repay you.”

He asked my name and I gave it to him. Then I left him standing by the counter so happy that I almost envied him.

Many years later, I was going to Europe on one of the finest ships that ever ploughed the waters of the Atlantic. We had pleasant weather the greater part of the voyage, but toward the end there came a terrible storm and the ship would have sunk with all on board had it not been for the captain.

A great leak was filling the ship with water. The crew was made up of strong and able men and the mates were experienced seamen of the first class. But after pumping for one whole night with the water still gaining upon them, the sailors gave up in despair.

The captain, who had been below, now came up. He saw how matters stood.

He ordered every man to his position. It was surprising to see those strong men bow before his strong will and hurry back to the pumps. The captain then started below to look for the leak. As he passed me I asked him whether there was any hope of saving the ship.

He looked at me. “Yes, sir,” he said, “so long as one inch of this deck remains above water, there is hope. Only when that fails shall I leave the ship, but not before that, nor shall any of my crew. Everything shall be done to save the ship, and if we fail, it will not be our fault.” Then he turned to all of us passengers on board and said, “Every one of you, at the pumps!”

Three times during that day we gave up in despair. But the captain's courage, perseverance, and powerful will mastered every man on board, and we went to work again. “I will land you safe in Liverpool,” he said, “if you will be men.”

And in the end he did land us safe, but the ship sank soon after she reached Liverpool. The captain stood on the deck of the sinking ship receiving the thanks of the passengers as they hurried off the ship.

As I passed, he grasped my hand and said, “Sir, do you not recognize me?” I told him that I did not.

“Do you remember the boy whom you followed when he had so much difficulty in getting a geography, some thirty years ago, in Cincinnati?”

“Why yes, I remember that boy very well. His name was William Hartley.”

“I am William Hartley,” said the captain. “God bless you”

“And may God bless you too, Captain Hartley,” I said. “The perseverance that thirty years ago got you that geography has today saved our lives.”

Passage G2e

14
Soapy
Soapy was worried. The days were getting colder, and winter was near. Even now, it was very cold in the park where he slept. At night, he needed many, many newspapers to keep himself warm.
For many years, Soapy had slept in the prison during the winters. The prison was warm and he was well fed there. It was like a hotel for poor people.
Now it was time for Soapy to go to his hotel again. But in order to get in, he had to get arrested.
"Let me see," he asked himself, "how can I get arrested?" "Well," he answered himself, "there are many ways. The best way is to have a fine meal at an expensive restaurant. Then, because I can't pay for it, the police will come and take me to prison."
There was a very good restaurant across the street, so he tried to go in. But the doorman saw Soapy's shabby, dirty clothes and wouldn't let him in.
"Now what shall I do?" Soapy thought as he walked away from the restaurant. Then he saw a big shop window.
"If I break that window, the police will be sure to arrest me. I don't really want to break the window, but I must have a warm place to sleep this winter," he thought to himself. So he picked up a stone and threw it—CRASH—through the window.
Hearing the sound, a lot of people came running to see what had happened. A policeman was with them.
"Who broke this window?" the policeman shouted.
"I did it," Soapy said happily. But the policeman did not believe him.
"Don't bother me," said the policeman. "People who break windows don't wait for the police."
Then he saw a man running to catch a bus. “There's the man who did it. Stop! Stop!” the policeman shouted, and he ran after that man.
“Now what shall I do?” Soapy thought as he walked away from the broken window. As he walked, he began to get hungry. After a while, he saw a very cheap restaurant.
“Well,” he said to himself, “if I can't get arrested at an expensive restaurant, maybe I can get arrested here.” He walked into the restaurant, sat down, and ordered their best food.
“Sorry, but I don't have any money,” he said to the waiter after he had finished eating. “Aren't you going to call a policeman?”
“We don't need any policeman here,” the waiter said. Then he called another waiter, and they threw Soapy out of the restaurant.
(To be continued)

15Soapy

(Continued)
"If I don't get arrested, I can't go to prison for the winter. I have to get myself arrested," Soapy thought, "but how?"
Then he saw a young lady who was window-shopping. There was a big policeman standing near her.
"If I bother her, the policeman will arrest me," Soapy thought, "Excuse me, Miss," he asked the lady, "but wouldn't you like to go for a walk with me?"
"Sure," the woman said happily. "Will you buy me something to drink?"
This was not what Soapy had expected her to say. He had expected her to call the policeman. Soapy was very surprised, and he ran away as fast as he could. He ran for many blocks. When he stopped, he was on a crowded street.
"Maybe," he thought, "I can get myself arrested if I bother all of these people." And he began to make a lot of noise. There were two policemen standing on the corner, but they didn't pay any attention to Soapy.
Again, Soapy fail to get himself arrested. Disappointed, he walked away. "What shall I do now?" he thought, Then he saw a man with an umbrella. The man set his umbrella down to light a cigarette. Soapy quickly picked up the man's umbrella and began to walk away with it.
"Stop," the man said,"that's my umbrella."
"Is it?" replied Soapy. "Call a policeman then."
"Well," the man answered,"if you really think it's yours ... I picked it up in a restaurant this morning and ... if it's yours ..." Then the man began to run away.
"I've tried and tried, still I can't get myself arrested," thought Soapy. And, leaving the umbrella there, he walked away.
He came to a little church on a quiet street.Inside the church, some people were practising some songs for Sunday. Soapy stopped outside and listened to the songs. They reminded him of his childhood, and Soapy began to think.
"I've been bad. But I'm still young. I'll get a job tomorrow. I'll stop living in the park. I'll stop going to prison every winter. I'll ..." Just then, a policeman came up to Soapy.
"What are you doing here?" the policeman asked.
"Nothing," Soapy replied.
"Nothing? You must be up to something. I know people like you," the policeman said roughly. "Come along with me."
And so Soay was sent to prison.
16
We were walking along the road when we heard someone shouting, "Help! Help!" The man called out several more times before we could find him. He was in the lake, about a hundred feet from the shore. There was a small boat near him. We knew immediately what had happened. He had fallen from the boat and could not swim well enough to reach it or to get to shore.
As we ran towards the lake I saw him sinking, and I was afraid that he was drowning. But in a moment his head appeared again.
Quickly John threw off his coat, jumped into the water, and started swimming towards the drowning man. He reached him just as the man was going down again. John reached out his hand, trying to take hold of the man's clothing or his hair before he sank. But the man opened his arms in fear, caught John around the neck, and this drew John down under the water. John fought to keep his head above the water and at the same time tried to swim toward the boat, pulling the man with him.
John jumped into the water with no thought for his own safety. I was not so brave. But I did follow him in a moment or two. I swam to the boat. I could not get into it, so I started to push it towards John and the man.
When I reached them, John was very tired. He was so worn out that both of them might have drowned if I had not arrived with the boat. Together, we got the man to shore, holding to the boat with one hand and swimming with the other.
The man looked dead, but his heart was still beating. We made him comfortable, and John did what he could for him while I ran to the nearest house to call a doctor. When I got back, the man was beginning to come to. He opened his eyes a little and started to move.
By the time the doctor came, the man was able to sit up, but he still looked very sick. The doctor took him to the hospital, and when we were called late at night to ask about him, they told us that he would be just fine in a day or two.

Flood!
John: Has Uncle Bob arrived yet?
Jack: No, and I've just heard a flood warning on the radio. He may not be able to get back from Upton. The river is rising fast.
Betty: He's quite likely to be late anyway. It may not be because of the flood. He always leaves at the last minute; but he'll probably be in time for his part in the concert.
(The telephone rings)
John: Hello. This is the theatre.
Uncle Bob: Is that you, John?
John: Yes, what's happened? Why aren't you on the way yet?
Uncle Bob: I'm at Upton—at Hill Farm. The river has flooded the roads. The buses have stopped running and farmers are using boats to rescue the sheep. It's not likely to get any better, so I don't know how I can get to the theatre.
John: Possibly the police will help us. I'll ring them and explain our problem. What's your telephone number?
Uncle Bob: Upton 456.
John: I'll ring you back ...456... right ... goodbye.
Uncle Bob: Goodbye.
Betty: Ring 999, John! Quickly!
John: 9 ... 9 ... 9 ... Hello! Is that the police station? Can you help us, please? We're giving a concert tonight for some old people. But our singer is at Upton and can't get here because of the floods. Can you possibly send a police car? Yes, ... as soon as possible ... Oh, thank you. The address is: Hill Farm, Upton. Thank you very much. Goodbye.
Betty: Do you think they'll bring him back in time? Are you sure? They may not manage it.If so, what shall we do?
Jack: It will very likely take half an hour. We might sing some more songs to fill in the time.(10 minutes later)
Betty: What's that noise? Is it a fire-engine?
John: No, it's a lorry.
Jack: You're wrong. It is a fire-engine, and it's stopping here.
Betty: It's brought Uncle Bob. Here he is.
Uncle Bob: Hello, everybody! Better late than never!That was an exciting trip. First a boat, then a tractor, and last of all a fire-engine, and here I am. The fire-engine came to help some people in flooded houses in Upton. Then it brought me straight to the theatre. I may be a bit late,but I'm safe and sound. Couldn't someone help me and get me some dry clothes?
Jack: So the police did send a car to fetch you. I must tell everyone.
Betty: Hurry up everybody! Only five minutes left before the start of the show.

Passage G2d

 11

**An American Mother**

“Ma?”

My heart almost stopped beating when I heard my daughter's voice on the phone. One short word and I knew that Linda had been taking dope again. Her voice was usually soft and sweet, but now it was hoarse.

"Linda, where are you?" I tried my best not to show my anger. "Are you at a friend's place?"

"Yes, I'm with a friend of mine."

"Are you sure you're all right? You don't sound well at all. Hadn't you better come home?"

"I haven't got any money."

"Can you tell me where you are? I'll come and bring you home."

"No! This is no place for you."

"Then why did you call me? Just to make me suffer?" I was really angry now. "You promised you wouldn't take pills any more!" I shouted at her. "Do you still remember your promise?"

There was no reply—just a click at the other end of the line.

It was a cold rainy Saturday morning in April. I was worried. "Where is she? Will she get home safely?" I wasn't angry any more. My heart went out to my child.

An hour later the phone rang again. I was afraid to answer it, "Something terrible must have happened," I thought. I was right. It was the hospital.

"Is this Linda Harper's mother?"

"Yes. What's happened to my daughter?"

"Linda had a bad fall in the street and was brought to our hospital. She passed out while the doctor was taking care of her. We think she's been taking dope. Would you come to the hospital?"

My husband was away. I didn't want to ask anyone to go with me to the hospital. I felt I was to blame too. Every time Linda took those pills I felt as if I had handed them to her.

It was now raining heavily. I went to the hospital by myself. I was led to a small room. Linda lay sleeping quietly on a table.

This wasn't the first time Linda had taken too many pills. I knew she would sleep deeply for about twelve hours until the poison had stopped doing its harm.

I sat down by Linda's side and watched her sleep. The room was still. I looked around. The room seemed familiar. "Have I been here before?" I wondered. I looked around again." I'm sure I've been in this room," I told myself. Then I remembered. It was in this very room that I gave birth to Linda seventeen years ago. How happy I was then!

Linda used to be such a bright, healthy child. "What has turned her into a dope-taker?" I asked myself. "And why are millions of young people like her taking dope to destroy themselves? There must be something seriously wrong with our society. What is it?"

12

Mathematics Is Fun

Mathematics is fun. Long sums are often boring, but problems and puzzles are often interesting. Here is a problem for you. Three men had a meal in a small restaurant. After the meal, the waiter brought them a bill for thirty dollars. Each man gave the waiter a ten-dollar note. The waiter took the thirty dollars to the cash-desk. At the cash-desk, however, he found that there was a mistake. The bill was only twenty-five dollars, so he took five dollars back to the men. But the three men could not divide the five dollars among them.

"Let's give the waiter two of the five dollars," one of the men said. "Then he can give us one dollar each."

The other two agreed to this, and so each man received only one dollar from the waiter. This means that each man paid nine dollars for his meal. The waiter kept two dollars. Three times nine is twenty-seven, plus two is twenty-nine. Where is the other dollar?

Revision 3

**Lost in the Fog**

It's been quite some time **since** I was last in London, but something happened during that visit **that** I'll remember as long as I live.

London is well-known for its terrible fogs. During my visit, it was terribly foggy. You could hardly see your hands in front of your face. Cars and buses moved slowly, their lights on and their horns blowing wildly. **When** evening fell, the weather got worse. All traffic came to a stop. I had an important meeting on the other side of town. I was to be there at six o'clock. It was impossible to find a taxi, so I decided to walk and set out at once.

Minutes later I was completely lost. I couldn't even find a street sign to know **where** I was. Then I heard a voice coming out of the fog. "I suppose you are lost. Can I help you?" I could hardly see the young woman **who** had spoken to me, but was glad to find someone in the fog. I explained **where** I wanted to go, and she said she knew exactly how to get there. I was puzzled for a moment, then I followed her through the dark streets.

The city seemed as quiet as a cemetery and I remembered thinking the woman could be leading me to a lonely place **where** she and her friends would rob me. But nothing happened. The woman led me right to the place **where** I wanted to go.

I was greatly surprised at how well she had found her way through the fog.

"I know this part of town quite well," she said.  

"But the fog - this terrible fog - made it impossible to see anything," I said.

"It makes no difference to me **whether** it's foggy or clear. You see, I'm blind," she said.

**Who Has Disappeared?**

Mum: Have you seen the dog, Peter?

Peter: No, Mum, I've been upstairs all evening.

Mum: Have you seen him, Joe?

Joe: No, Mum.

Mum: Have you, Alice?

Alice: No, Mum. I've shouted for him and I've tried all the neighbours. None of them have seen him.

Mum: Oh well, dear, you've done everything.

Ah! Your father has just come in. Perhaps he has seen Bob.

Alice: Dad, have you found Bob?

Dad: No. Why? Has he disappeared?

Joe: Yes, we haven't seen him for three hours.

Peter: We must search all the streets, Dad. 

Joe: Take the car, Dad.

Alice: Please, Dad. Perhaps he has ...

Dad: All right, all right! Just a minute! Let me get the car out first.

*(One minute later)*

Dad: Joan, we've found Bob! He's been in the garage all evening. Silly old dog. And he hasn't barked once!

Mum: Oh good. But where has Peter gone?

Joe: He's gone out on his bike.

Mum: What! At this time of night? He might get lost or have an accident.

Dad: Don't be silly, Joan. Of course he won't.

Mum: Well, do something! Don't just stand there. Telephone the police. Ask the neighbours. Oh, dear! *(One minute later)*

Peter: No luck, Mum.

Mum: Peter! Where have you been? We've been looking for you everywhere.

Peter: Well, I've been searching for Bob. But I haven't found him.

Mum: Well, your father has found him in the garage.

Peter: Oh good. But where's Dad?

Mum: Where has ...? Oh no! Now Dad has disappeared.

**Seventeen Camels**

Once upon a time there was an old man who had three sons. Calling them together, he said, "Sons, my end is near. To my oldest son I will give half my camels, to my second one-third, and to my youngest one-ninth." The next day he died. 

Now, the old man had seventeen camels, and the three brothers were puzzled to know how to share them as their father said. They thought a long time about the problem and it seemed that they must either kill some of the camels and cut them into pieces, or disobey their father. At last they went to an old friend of their father's and asked his advice. As soon as he heard their story, he said, "I will help you. I am old. I have only one camel, but take it. It is yours." With many thanks the three sons took the old man's camel, finding that it was now easy to divide the camels as their father wished. The oldest took half, which was nine camels; the second took one-third, which was six; and the youngest took one-ninth, which was two. Only when each received his share of camels did they discover that there was one camel to spare. So, out of gratitude to their father's friend, they returned the camel.

Passage G2c

 **The Man Who Had Many Questions**

Albert Einstein always liked to ask questions when he was a student. When his teacher wasn't asking Albert a question, he would think of a question to ask her. And often when he did, she would get red in the face and be angry at him for asking questions she couldn't answer. The more Albert learned, the more he found to think about. The more he thought about, the more questions he thought of to ask. 

He knew that the earth, the other planets, the moon, and the sun are just a part of what we call the universe. He knew also that the universe is made of all the stars we can see with our eyes, but still there are more that are so far away that they can't be seen at all. And he also knew that all these stars and our own bodies and everything else are made up of the atoms so tiny that they can't be seen even with the best microscope. 

He thought there must be some rules to explain why everything in the universe, big and small, acts as it does. Why don't the stars moving around in the sky bump into each other? What makes the tiny atoms stick together to form different things? Albert Einstein thought and thought until he believed he had some of the answers. And then people started asking him the questions because he could answer many problems that the scientists had been trying to work out for many, many years.

**Going Grocery Shopping**

Jenny White: Mom, I'm going down to the corner to buy some film for my camera. Can I get anything for you?

Mrs. White: Yes. I need some groceries. Help me make out a list.

Jenny White: I've got a piece of paper here. What do you need?

Mrs. White: First, we need some fruit. Go to Brown's Market. He has the nicest fruits and vegetables in this part of the town. Buy some oranges.

Jenny White: How about some pears? We haven't had any for a long time.

Mrs. White: All right. Also, get some lettuce and tomatoes so I can make a salad. And we'll need some meat.

Jenny White: Where should I buy that?

Mrs. White: Buy the meat and the other things at the supermarket.

Jenny White: How about buying some hamburger? I like hamburger.

Mrs. White: All right. Get a pound of hamburger. Have you got all that on the list? Just a minute. I'll go with you. I like shopping in the supermarket. I'm sure I'll find lots of other things I want to buy.

Jenny White: And I suppose I'll have to carry them all home for you.

Mrs. White: That's right. But you'll be glad to eat what I cook, won't you?

9

**Sports**

All over the world people enjoy sports. Sports help to keep people healthy and happy, and to live longer.

Many people like to watch others play games. They buy tickets or turn on their TVs to watch the games. Often they get very excited when "their" player or team wins.

Sports change with the seasons. People play different games in winter and summer. Swimming is fun in warm weather, but skating is good in winter.

Games and sports often grow out of people's work and everyday activities. The Arabs use horses or camels in much of their everyday life; they use them in their sports, too. It is the same with people in Xinjiang and Inner Mongolia. Millions of people hunt and fish for a living, but hunting and fishing are very good sports too.

Some sports are so interesting that people everywhere go in for them. Football, for example, has spread around the world. Swimming is popular in all countries near the sea or in those with many rivers. What fun it is to jump into a pool or lake, whether in China, Egypt or Italy! And think of people in cold countries. Think how many love to skate or ski in Japan, Norway or Canada.

Some sports or games go back thousands of years, like running or jumping. Chinese wushu, for example, has a very long history. But basketball and volleyball are rather new. Neither one is a hundred years old yet. People are inventing new sports or games all the time. Water-skiing is one of the newest in the family of sports.

People from different countries may not be able to understand each other, but after a game together they often become good friends. Sports help to train a person's character. One learns to fight hard but fight fair, to win without pride and to lose with grace.（胜不骄，败不馁）

Passage G2b

4

A Very Special Passenger
The big bus pulled over to the bus stop.
Mr Cook got on the bus. He looked around and laughed. "I see there's a seat for me today," he said to the bus driver.
The driver laughed, too, because Mr Cook was the only passenger on the bus.
"We'll have another passenger soon," the driver said, "We'll pick him up at West Street."
"How do you know?" asked Mr Cook.
"Oh, I pick him up at West Street almost every day," the driver said with a smile. "He is a very special passenger."
"Is that so?" said Mr Cook. "What's so special about him?"
"He doesn't have to pay to ride in my bus," the driver told him.
"That is special!" Mr Cook said in surprise. "Why is that?"
"He saved a little girl who fell in the river," said the driver. "The father of the little girl is a bus driver. So now he is a very special passenger to all bus drivers."
"Do you stop for him whenever you see him?" asked Mr Cook.
"No," said the driver, "if he wants to ride he stands at a bus stop like anyone else. When he gets on he goes right to his seat in the back."
Mr Cook was surprised. "Doesn't he like to sit and talk to you?"
The driver shook his head. "He isn't much of a talker!"
The bus turned into West Street.
"There he is!" said the bus driver.
Mr Cook looked around. He didn't see anyone at the bus stop.
The bus stopped, and the door opened. Into the bus came a big brown dog.
The dog went straight to the back of the bus, got on to the back seat and lay down.
"There he is!" said the driver, laughing. "He is my very special passenger."
Revison 1
Getting Acquainted
Jack: Say, isn't your name Mike Smith?
Mike: Yes, it is. What's yours?
Jack: My name is Jack Brown.
Mike: Hi, Jack. Glad to meet you. You're in my class, aren't you?
Jack: Yes. My father knows your father.
Mike: Really? We've only been here for a short time. I don't know many people yet.
Jack: It's hard to meet people in a new town. Would you like to come to the café with me? Everybody goes there after school. They have ice cream and things to drink. You can meet some of the other people in our class.
Mike: I'd like to, Jack, but I've got to post these letters.
Jack: That doesn't matter. The post office is on the way to the café. I'll go with you. I suppose you're writing to your old friends?
Mike: Yes. We just moved here from a very small town, you know. We knew everybody there. I'm going to miss my old friends.
Jack: You'll make a lot of new friends here. Dad said you have a brother. Is that right?
Mike: Yes. He's a year younger than I am. Do you have any brothers or sisters?
Jack: Yes. I have a younger sister. Her name is Kate. Well, here's the post office. You can post your letters first. The café is just across the street.
5
A Fish That Walks
Everyone knows that fish can swim. But there is a special kind of fish that can also "walk". The walking fish can "leave" the water and still live. Sometimes a walking fish gets tired of swimming in its pond. Then it can jump out and walk to a new one.
Like other fish, the walking fish uses its gills for breathing when it is in the water. But the walking fish also has a simple lung that lets it breathe outside of the water. It is its lung that makes this kind of fish different from other fish. Its lung lets the fish breathe air when it is not in the water. A walking fish can stay outside of the water for up to twelve hours.
The fish has its own strange way of walking. It jumps out of the water. It bends its back, drags its tail forward, lifts its head and throws itself toward where it wants to go.
The fish can keep up this "walking" until it reaches a new pond. Once in the new pond, the walking fish swims again.
6
Help!
Once a man was staying at a hotel. One morning, as the man was walking past a room on the first floor, he suddenly heard a woman's voice.
"Help!" the woman shouted.
Then he heard a young man's voice.
"Don't move or I'll shoot you!" the man shouted angrily.
"Please don't shoot me," the woman cried.
The young man laughed. And then the man heard a shot! The man hurried to the door and knocked at it loudly.
"Come in, please," the woman said softly.
The man rushed into the room and asked: "What's the matter? Can I help you?"
"Who are you?" the woman asked angrily.
"I heard a shot," said the man and asked, "Are you all right?"
The woman laughed and said, "Of course I'm all right." Then she turned to the young man.
"Put the gun in your pocket," she said.
"What's happening?" the man asked.
"We're not quarrelling," the young man said. "We're actors. We're learning our parts."

1. Where was the man staying?
2. What did the man hear one morning as he was walking past a room?
3. Was the man on the first floor or the second floor?
4. Was it a woman who called for help, or was it a young man?
5. What else did the man hear? He knocked at the door, didn't he?
6. 6. Why did he go into the room?
7. Was the woman alive or dead?
8. Were the young man and the woman quarrelling? What were they doing then?
   7
   Fast-food Restaurants
   Everybody knows that a favorite food of the Americans is the hamburger.
   The favorite place to buy a hamburger is a fast-food restaurant. In these restaurants, people order their food, wait just a few minutes, then when the food is ready they carry it to their tables themselves. They can either eat it in he restaurant or take the food out in a plastic box and eat it at home, at work, or in a park. At some restaurants people can drive up beside a window. They order the food, and a worker hands it to them through the window. Then they drive off and eat in their cars or wherever they like.
   Hamburgers are not the only kind of food that fast-food restaurants serve. Some serve fish, or chicken, or sandwiches, and also soft drinks, coffee, and so on.
   Fast-food restaurants are very popular because the service is fast and the food is not too expensive. For many people, this is very important. In the United States, about 50 percent (50%) of all married women with children work outside the home. They are often too busy or too tired to cook dinner for the family at night, and fast-food restaurants are a great help to them.
   Now there are fast-food restaurants in countries all over the world.
   8
   Let the Boy Speak
   Characters
   Mr Smith, a greengrocer
   Miss White customers in the shop
   Mrs Ball customers in the shop
   Mrs Wood customers in the shop
   Tom, a small boy
   (A greengrocer's shop. Mr Smith is serving behind the counter. One customer is going out. Three women are waiting in the shop.)
   Mr Smith: Yes? Who's next? please?
   Miss White: I think you're next, Mrs Ball. You were here before me, weren't you?
   Mrs Ball: Oh, was I?
   Mr Smith: What can I do for you, madam? Do you need any fruit?
   Mrs Ball: Let me see. Ah, yes! I want ...
   (A small boy runs into the greengrocer's shop. He pushes his way through the women and goes to the front of the counter.)
   Tom: Please, Mr Smith ...!
   Mr Smith (not letting him continue): One moment, young fellow! I'm serving this lady. And these two ladies are waiting. (He turns to Mrs Ball again.) Yes, madam. What were you saying?
   Tom: But, sir!
   Mrs Ball: Be quiet! I want three pounds of potatoes, Mr Smith.
   Mr Smith: Three pounds of potatoes? Certainly. I have some good ones here. (He points to the potatoes near the counter.) Three pence a pound. Are these all right?
   Mrs Ball: Yes, I'll take those.
   Mrs Wood (looking at Tom): The children today! They have no manners!
   Miss White: They can't wait! They want to be first!
   Mrs Wood: How old are you?
   Tom: Nine, madam.
   Mrs Wood: Only nine! And you pushed in front of this lady.
   Tom: I had to. I wanted ...
   Miss White (not letting him finish):Young people must learn to wait. You can't push in front of people. You're not the only customer in the shop, are you?
   Tom: No, madam.
   Mrs Ball: Did your mother send you?
   Tom: No. I wanted...
   Mrs Wood (quickly): Ah, you wanted something for yourself! You couldn't wait, could you? What's your name?
   Tom: Tom.
   Miss White: Yes, I know your mother. I'll speak to her about you.
   Tom: But I only wanted ...
   Mr Smith: That's enough, young man. We don't want to hear.(He turns to Mrs Ball.) Here you are, Mrs Ball. Three pounds of potatoes. Is that all? That'll be nine pence, please. Thank you.
   (Mrs Ball gives Mr Smith nine pence. She takes her potatoes and leaves.)
   Mr Smith: Next, please.
   Tom: I'm sorry but ... (No one listens to Tom.)
   Miss White: I want some apples, please. Two pounds.
   Mr Smith: What about these? (He points to some apples on the counter. ) They're only fifteen pence a pound.
   Miss White: No, they look rather green. Have you any sweet ones?
   Mr Smith: Certainly, madam. I have some good ones but they're still in my car.
   Miss White: Can I see them?
   Mr Smith: I'll go and get them.
   (Mr Smith goes out of the shop. After a minute he runs in again.)
   Mr Smith (shouting): They're not there! There was a box of apples in my car and now it's gone. The car's empty.
   Tom: I saw two men near your car, Mr Smith. They opened the door and took out a box of apples.
   Mr Smith: My apples! Someone has taken a big box of my apples! (He turns to Tom and shouts in an angry voice.) Why didn't you tell me?
   Tom: I wanted to tell you, sir, but no one would let me speak!