1. Translate the following sentences and situations:
1. Полковник впервые услышал историю о Спитфайере Джонни, английском летчике, когда он присутствовал на конференции руководителей движения Сопротивления. 2. Невероятный рассказ о подвигах таинственного Спитфайера Джонни не мог обмануть полковника. 3. "То, что вы мне рассказали, сводится к следующему: Спитфайер Джонни сражался с врагом целый год, руководил группой Сопротивления, и никто не может сказать, как он выглядел. Должно быть, он был человеком-невидимкой". 4. Полковник был полон решимости раскрыть тайну Спитфайера Джонки. 5. Нб раскрыть эту тайну оказалось нелегко. Прошел месяц, а усилия полковника пока еще не дали результатов. Он знал только, что Спитфайер Джонни числился среди пропавших без вести. 6. Однако после разговора с Харлингом, участником движения Сопротивления, полковник воспрянул духом. Его версия таинственной
истории начала принимать определенную форму. 7. Теперь в его распоряжении (at one's disposal) были важные факты. Не хватало всего одного звена. 8. Загоревшись желанием добраться, наконец, до истины, полковник отправился на ферму к Дайкерам. 9. Увидев полковника, Эни и брат бросили работу и подошли поздороваться с ним. 10. В то время, как Эни держалась свободно и непринужденно, ее брат, казалось, был слегка выбит из колеи приходом незнакомца. Полковник почувствовал в нем некоторую настороженность, но он отнес это за счет его молодости. Яну было не больше шестнадцати-семнадцати лет. П. Через несколько минут они вошли в дом, и Эни начала рассказывать полковнику о Спитфайере Джонни, в то время как Ян сидел в кресле и молча наблюдал за гостем. 12. Полковник давно понял, что Спитфайер Джонни - это выдумка Эни и ее брата, но у него не хватило духа прервать рассказ девушки. Он не мог не восхищаться мужеством молодых патриотов.
1. Певцы Пражского Национального театра были не такими блестящими, как певцы в Вене, но Моцарту пришлось примириться с этим. 2. Он внес много изменений в арии, стараясь приспособить их к голосам певцов. 3. До начала премьеры оставалось несколько часов, а увертюра все еще не была переписана для оркестра. Бондини был вне себя. "Нам придется отменить спектакль. Все мои усилия оказались напрасными", - сказал он. 4. Вольфганг очень волновался перед спектаклем. Он всегда принимал неудачи близко к сердцу. 5. Как только оркестр заиграл, Вольфганг забыл свои страхи. Увертюра, которую так и не успели отрепетировать, прошла хорошо. 6. Бондини был в восторге от успеха новой оперы Моцарта. "Его музыка может творить чудеса!" - сказал он своим друзьям.
1. Охваченный желанием попасть в Академию Художеств, Огюст начал регулярно посещать занятия в художественной школе. 2. Лекок привязался к Огюсту с самых первых дней. Он увидел, что юноша был талантлив и хотел учиться. 3. Отец Огюста был против его увлечения рисованием. "Ты не должен заниматься живописью", - говорил он сыну. - "Из этого ничего не выйдет. Одумайся, пока не поздно". 4. Однажды у Огюста украли краски, которые он достал с большим трудом, и он перестал посещать класс живописи. 5. Постоянные неудачи стали сказываться на настроении Огюста. Он начал терять веру в себя. Лекока это очень беспокоило. 6. Однажды Огюста отправили в класс ваяния. Несколько часов, проведенных там, свершили чудо. Огюст снова воспрянул духом. Теперь он знал, что никогда не бросит искусство. Он почувствовал, что был рожден скульптором.
II. Read the text and, using it as a basis, think of situations which will contain the following word combinations:
to take charge of; to take too much to heart; to take to doing smth; to take to smb; to come round; to tell on smb; no good will come of it; to be concerned about smb; to consult smb about smth; to put smth down to smth; to lose one's heart to smb; to concentrate; to be put out by; to be determined to do; to go out (every night); to be awake; to go off (of an event)
SCHOOLS AND SCHOOLS
Old Jerome Warren lived in a hundred-thousand-dollar house in New York. He had an adopted son, the son of an old friend named Gilbert who was becoming a successful painter as fast as he could squeeze the paint out of his tubes. Another member of the household was Barbara Ross, a step-niece. Man is born to trouble; so, as old Jerome had no family of his own, he took up the burdens of others.
Gilbert and Barbara got along swimmingly. There was an understanding all round that the two would soon get married.
But at this point complications must be introduced.
Thirty years before, when old Jerome was young Jerome, there was a brother of his, named Dick. Dick went West to seek his or somebody else's fortune. Nothing was heard of him until one day old Jerome had a letter from his brother. It was badly written on ruled paper that smelled of salt bacon and coffee-grounds.
His letter disclosed that Dick was on the point of death. All that his thirty years of prospecting had given him was one daughter, nineteen years old, whom he was shipping East for Jerome, to clothe, feed, educate, comfort and cherish for the rest of her life or until marriage.
They met Nevada Warren at the station. She was a little girl, deeply sunburned and very good-looking. With an easy exhibition of strength she swung along a heavy suitcase, which the uniformed porters tried in vain to take from her.
"I am sure we shall be the best of friends," said Barbara, pecking at the firm sunburned cheek.
"Dear little niece," said old Jerome, "you are as welcome to my house as if it were your father's own."
"Thanks," said Nevada.
"And I am going to call you 'cousin'," said Gilbert, with his charming smile.
One morning old Jerome was lingering long after breakfast over the dullest morning paper in the city before setting forth to his office. He had become quite fond of Nevada, finding in her much
of his dead brother's quiet independence and unsuspicious frankness.
A maid brought in a note for Miss Nevada Warren.
"A messenger-boy delivered it at the door, please," she said. "He's waiting for an answer."
Nevada, who was whistling a Spanish waltz between her teeth, and watching the carriages and autos roll by in the street, took the envelope. She knew it was from Gilbert, before she opened it, by the little gold palette in the upper left-hand corner.
After tearing it open she pored over the contents for a while, and then, with a serious face, she went and stood at her uncle's elbow.
"Uncle Jerome, Gilbert is a nice boy, isn't he?"
"Why, bless the child!" exclaimed Jerome; "of course he is. I raised him myself."
"He wouldn't write anything to anybody that wasn't exactly - I mean that everybody couldn't know and read, would he?"
"I'd just like to see him try it," said Uncle Jerome. "Why, what-"
"Read this note he just sent me, uncle, and see if you think it's all right and proper. You see, I didn't know much about city people and their ways,"
Old Jerome threw his paper down and read the note.
"Why, child," said he, "you had me almost excited, although I was sure of that boy. He's a duplicate of his father, and he was a gilt-edged diamond. He only asks if you and Barbara will be ready at four o'clock this afternoon for an automobile drive over to Long Island."
"Would it be all right to go?" asked Nevada, eagerly.
"Yes, yes, child, of course. Go, by all means."
Nevada flew to the door, and said to the maid:
"Tell the boy to say to Mr. Warren, "You bet we'll go. I'll answer for Miss Barbara."
"Nevada," called old Jerome, "pardon me, my dear, but wouldn't it be as well to send him a note in reply? Just a line would do."
"No, I won't bother about that," said Nevada, gayly, "Gilbert will understand-he always does. I never rode in an automobile in my life; but I've paddled a canoe down Little Devil River, and if it's any livelier than that I'd like to know."
Two months are supposed to have elapsed. Barbara sat in the study of the hundred-thousand-dollar house. She was alone. Uncle Jerome and Nevada had gone to the theatre. Barbara had not cared to go. She wanted to stay at home and study in the study. If you were a beautiful New York girl and saw a little brown Western witch attracting a young man you wanted yourself, you too wouldn't be interested in musical comedy.
She sat by the library table holding a sealed letter. The letter was addressed to Nevada Warren and in the upper left hand corner of the envelope was a little gold palette. Barbara would have given her pearl necklace to know what the letter contained; but she could not open it by the aid of steam or some other method and read it, because her position in society forbade such an act.
At eleven-thirty the theatre-goers returned. It was a delicious winter night with big snow flakes downpouring from the east. Old Jerome went immediately upstairs to bed. Nevada, colored like a rose, with sapphire eyes, fluttered into the study, the only cheerfully lighted room and started talking about the stormy nights in the mountains around Dad's cabin.
"Here's a letter for you, dear," said Barbara. "It came by special delivery just after you had gone."
(to be continued)
III. Read the end of the story and retell it using the following verb-postpositive phrases wherever possible. Reread the whole story and discuss the title:
to sit up; to be up to; it's up to you; to bring about; to look away; to hold out; to pick up; to tear up; to drive about; to go out; to pace about; to spring up; to put up with; to put away; to take in; to fold up
SCHOOLS AND SCHOOLS
"Who is it from?" a"sked Nevada, pulling a button of her glove.
"Well, really," said Barbara with a smile. "I can only guess. The envelope has that queer little thing in one corner that Gilbert calls a palette."
"I wonder what he's writing me about," remarked Nevada listlessly, still struggling with the buttons of her glove. "Oh, it'll be midnight before I get these gloves off! Open the letter, will you, Barbara, and read it to me."
"Why, dear, it's for you, you wouldn't wish any one else to read it, of course."
Nevada raised her steady, calm, sapphire eyes from her gloves.
"Nobody writes me anything that everybody mightn't read," she said. "Go on, Barbara. Maybe Gilbert wants us to go out in his car again tomorrow."
"Well, dear," she said, "I'll read it if you want me to."
She opened the envelope, and read the letter with swift-travelling eyes; read it again, and cast a quick, shrewd glance at Nevada, who, for the time, seemed to consider gloves as the world of her interest.
For a quarter of a minute Barbara looked at Nevada with a strange steadfastness; and then a smile, a very small smile, flashed like an inspired thought across her face.
Barbara seemed to hesitate.
"Really, Nevada," she said, with a little show of embarrassment, "you shouldn't have insisted on my opening this. I'm sure it wasn't meant for any else to know."
"Then read it aloud," Nevada said. "Since you've already read it, what's the difference?"
"Well," said Barbara, "this is what it says: 'Dearest Nevada - Come to my studio at twelve o'clock to-night. Do not fail.' "
Barbara rose and dropped the note in Nevada's lap. "I'm awfully sorry," she said, "that I knew. It isn't like Gilbert. There must be some mistake. Just consider that I am ignorant of it, will you, dear? I must go upstairs now, I have such a headache. I'm sure I don't understand the note. Perhaps Gilbert has been dining too well, and will explain. Good night!"
When Nevada heard Barbara's door close upstairs, she ran swiftly to the front door, and let herself out into the snowstorm.
White with snow she reached Gilbert's studio and knocked.
Gilbert opened the door. He had a crayon pencil in one hand and a pipe in his mouth. The pipe dropped to the floor.
"Am I late?" asked Nevada. "1 came as quick as 1 could. Uncle and me were at the theatre this evening. Here I am, Gilbert. You wanted me to come and I came. You said so in your letter. What did you send for me for?"
"You read my letter?" inquired Gilbert.
"Barbara read it for me, I saw it afterwards. It said: 'Come to my studio at twelve to-night and do not fail.' I thought you were sick, of course, but you don't seem to be."
"Aha," said Gilbert irrelevantly. "I'll tell you why I asked you to come, Nevada. I want you to marry me immediately - tonight. What's a little snowstorm? Will you do it?"
"You might have noticed that I would, long ago," said Nevada. "And I rather like the snowstorm idea, myself. I surely would hate one of those flowery church noon-weddings. Gilbert, I didn't know you had grit enough to propose in this way. Let's shock them!"
"Oh, Nevada! I'm the happiest man in the world!" Gilbert exclaimed. "By the way, what did you do with the letter J sent you today?"
"I've got it here," said Nevada,-pulling it out from under her cloak.
Gilbert drew the. letter from the envelope and looked it over carefully. Then he looked at Nevada thoughtfully.
"Didn't you think it rather queer that I should ask you to come to my studio at midnight?" he asked.
"Why, no," said Nevada, rounding her eyes. "Not if you needed me. Out West when a friend sends you a hurry call we always get there to help him. So 1 didn't mind."
Gilbert rushed into another room and came back burdened with two warm overcoats.
"Put this raincoat on," he said, holding it for her. "We've got a quarter of a mile to go to get to the church."
He began to struggle into a heavy coat.
"Oh, Nevada," he said, "just look at the headlines on the front dage of that evening paper on the table, will you? It's about your section of the West, and I know it will interest you."
He waited a full minute, pretending to find trouble in the getting on of his coat, and then turned. Nevada had not moved. She was looking at him with strange and pensive directness.
"I was going to tell you," she said, "anyhow, before you - before we - before - well, before anything. Dad never gave me a day of schooling. I never learned to read or write ..."
When Mrs. and Mr. Gilbert Warren were returning home in a closed carriage, after the ceremony, Gilbert said:
"Nevada, would you really like to know what I wrote you in the letter tonight?"
"Fire away!" said the girl.
"Word for word," said Gilbert, "it was this: 'My dear Miss Warren - You were right about the flower. It was a hydrangea, and not a lilac.' "
"All right," said Nevada. "But let's forget it. The joke's on Barbara, anyway!"