Voicesintime3 10 blabok

Lisbeth M Brevik

Engelsk for ungdomstrinnet

in Time 3

LISBETH M. BREVIK

Engelsk for ungdomstrinnet

VOICES in Time 3

LISBETH M. BREVIK

Engelsk for ungdomstrinnet

VOICES3 in Time

© 2008 cappelen damm as © 1996⁄97⁄98 Christer Bermheden, Matts Winblad, Peter Watcyn-Jones, Staffan Wahlgren, Bonnier Utbildning AB, Stockholm (grunnstruktur og utvalgte tekster fra Second Time og Third Time) isbn: 978-82-04-14373-0 2. opplag 2010 Materialet i denne publikasjonen er omfattet av åndsverklovens bestemmelser.

Uten særskilt avtale med cappelen damm as er enhver eksemplarfremstilling og tilgjengeliggjøring bare tillatt i den utstrekning det er hjemlet i lov eller tillatt gjennom avtale med Kopinor, interesseorgan for rettighetshavere til åndsverk. redaktør: Toril Lindberg fagkonsulent: Nora Brox fonetisk transkribering: Amesto Translations AS

tekster: Rettighetshavere er påført under tekstene. Forlaget har forsøkt å komme i kontakt med samtlige rettighetshavere.

I de tilfeller vi ikke har klart å oppspore vedkommende, eller vi har oppgitt uriktig kilde, tar vi gjerne i mot rettelser.

foto: Scanpix Norge www.scanpix.no Se også egen fotoliste, side 196 Devold, Fred Jonny Hammerø, side 27 Leiv Vidar, Hydro Texaco, side 27

illustrasjoner: Trond Topstad, Appetizersidene og venstre marg ved Track tekstene Studio von Storm Sveen og Emberland Illustrasjon AS www.sleivdal.com, side 9 og 19 Jenny K. Blake, side 12 og 13 Zapiro, Jonathan Shapiro, side 28 Ravi Shankar, side 81 Marcia Williams, side 86-89

produksjon: design og layout: Studio von Storm omslagsdesign: Tine Winsvold, cappelen damm as trykk og innbinding: Livonia Print Sia, Latvia 2010 www.cappelendamm.no

Welcome to Voices in Time 3!

This book has seven chapters.

Each chapter is divided into three parts.

PART 1: PLATFORM

INTRODUCTION

TEXT 1

TEXT 2

PART 2: APPETIZERS

Six short paragraphs to introduce each of the in-depth texts.

PART 3: TRACKS

Six in-depth texts.

Choose texts based on your interests or research area: Fiction, Facts, Music, Sport, History, Timeline.

To each text you will ďŹ nd a guide to 3 reading levels: Basic, Challenging & Demanding.

FICTION

Enjoy classic and modern stories, poems, ďŹ lms and plays.

FACTS

MUSIC

Tune in on Discover some fascinating facts artists & bands and their music. about people, countries and the English language.

SPORT

Check out texts and articles about sport.

HISTORY

Find out about history in Ireland, Northern Ireland, South Africa and the USA.

TIMELINE

Explore Timelines to see when events took place.

Multicultural Voices in TimeBritain 3

CONTENTS CHAPTER 1

LANGUAGE & CULTURE

PLATFORM INTRO TEXT 1 TEXT 2

CHAPTER 3

BETWEEN THE LINES

PLATFORM

8 Voices of English 10 Brown Cheese Please, Jenny K Blake 12

INTRO TEXT 1 TEXT 2

Voices in Literature The Widow and the Parrot

56 58 60

Virginia Woolf

APPETIZERS TRACKS FACTS Poor English bad for business

FACTS

14 16

Aftenposten News in English, Kristin Solberg

Do’s and Taboos of Using English Around the World

18

Roger E. Axtell FACTS

Neither here Nor there

20

Bill Bryson SPORT

Broken English & Something MufďŹ ns

22

Stewart Clark MUSIC

TIME

Keep your English up to date

24

APPETIZERS TRACKS

FICTION The Widow and the Parrot (2)

Virginia Woolf FICTION The Lake Ray Bradbury FICTION The Happy Prince Oscar Wilde HISTORY A Christmas Story

Barbara Florio Graham SPORT Feet, Jan (Janet) Mark TIME Beastly Tales Vikram Seth

62

64

70 72 74

76 80

David Crystal

English Advertising in Norway

26

CHAPTER 4

TIMELESS DRAMA

PLATFORM

CHAPTER 2

FREE CHARACTERS

PLATFORM INTRO TEXT 1 TEXT 2

Freedom Fighters The Boy who Painted Christ‌

28 30 32

John Henrik Clarke

APPETIZERS TRACKS FICTION/ The Rabid Racists, Terry Deary MUSIC Strange Fruit, Allen & Holiday HISTORY Martin Luther King, Jr., Free at Last, David A. Adler TIME The Atlantic Slave Trade FACTS Goodbye Bafana, James Gregory FICTION The moment before the gun‌

The Rise of a Nation

APPETIZERS TRACKS MUSIC Romeo and Juliet FICTION FACTS

40

54

Mark Knoper & Dire Straits Hamlet, William Shakespeare

Bard of Avon

90 92 94 96

Diane Stanley & Peter Vennema MUSIC

42 48 50 52

Shakespeare’s Voices Romeo and Juliet

82 84 86

Marcia Williams

38

Nadine Gordimer TIME

INTRO TEXT 1 TEXT 2

Blackadder meets William Shakespeare

98

Richard Curtis, BBC FACTS TIME

‘The Lion King’ or ‘Hamlet?’ Shakespeare’s Globe

100 102

7

Voices in Time!

CHAPTER 5

CONFLICTS & PEACE

PLATFORM INTRO TEXT 1 TEXT 2

CHAPTER 7

104 Voices of Independence and Peace Hate is a waste of time

106 108

INTRO TEXT 1 TEXT 2

APPETIZERS TRACKS SPORT Hate is a waste of time (2) ESPN The Magazine, Tom Friend HISTORY Famine, Liam O’Flaherty FICTION The Sniper, Liam O’Flaherty FACTS Breaking with the past, UN Works MUSIC Protest Songs Young Ned of the Hill, The Pogues Sunday Bloody Sunday, U2 TIME A Country Divided

110 112

APPETIZERS TRACKS FACTS Darwin’s ‘Origin of Species’ [downe, england, gb] FICTION 4.50 From Paddington, A Christie [torquay, england, gb] FICTION Lesley Castle, Jane Austen [bath, england, gb] MUSIC Glasgow Music & Club Scene Fiona Shepherd / My Eyes, Travis [glasgow, scotland, gb] SPORT/ Music Wakeboard Festival MUSIC [llyn peninsula, wales, gb] TIME IF, Rudyard Kipling [rudyard lake, england, gb]

APPETIZERS TRACKS FACTS Lesson From a Son

158 160

Danielle Kennedy

116 120 124

[west coast, california, usa] Utah, Anne Stevenson [desert, utah, usa] FICTION The Old Man at the Bridge FICTION

126 128

EXPERIENCE BRITAIN

British 20th Century Icons The Channel Tunnel [london, england, gb]

150 152 154

[harlem, new york, usa]

PLATFORM INTRO TEXT 1 TEXT 2

American 20th Century Icons Let America be America…

Langston Hughes

ESPN The Magazine, Tom Friend

CHAPTER 6

EXPLORE AMERICA

PLATFORM

146 148

170

VOCABULARY

174

IMAGES

Images 144

168

[washington, dc. & philadelphia, pennsylvania, usa]

138

142

166

Sheila Keenan

“Words, Words, Words” 140

164

Ernest Hemingway

[key west, florida, usa] HISTORY JFK’s Assassination [dallas, texas, usa] MUSIC Elvis Presley’s Graceland [memphis, tennessee, usa] TIME O Say, Can You See?

130 132 134 136

162

196

8

INTRO

Language & Culture

CHAPTER 1

Language & Culture

9

The newspaper USA Today asked: “What is your biggest worry as an international traveller?”

The result was that the number one fear – ranking almost three times greater than the second-place fear – was inability to communicate. In second place came personal safety.

Roger E. Axtell

English is a global language. People speak English all over the world. We speak English when we meet foreign people in Norway, when travelling and when studying abroad. We listen to English in films and music, or in lectures when we move on to higher education. We write English in e-mails and business letters. We read English in books at school, at university, in magazines, on the Internet or in commercials.

In other words, we use English to communicate – in Norway and outside. However, communication means a lot more than speaking the same language. We also need to know something about each other’s culture.

To communicate, we need language skills and cultural understanding.

Some useful words about Language & Culture communication > n. give and get information cultural understanding > e. understand a culture culture > n. attitudes, behaviour and values of a society fear > n. be afraid or scared of; be frightened of global language > e. language used around the world inability > n. unable to do something international traveller > e. someone travelling around the world language skills > e. ability to communicate well rank > v. give a particular order or position to; classify study abroad > e. go to school or university in another country

10

TEXT 1

Language Kolumnetittel & Culture

Voices of English English is a global language and a lingua franca. People speak English all over the world. When two persons don’t know each other’s mother tongue, they often choose to communicate in English – to understand each other.

Speaking English is usually considered a good thing; because then we can communicate with people anywhere. However, some say that the English language will “kill” other languages and cause languages to disappear.

Here you can read three authors’ comments on the English language.

Choman Hardi (b. 1974) Choman Hardi is a Kurdish poet who was born in Iraq and came to England in 1993. She now writes her poems in English. In this poem she writes about how it is to live in a new country – where her children speak English, forgetting their mother tongue…

My children I can hear them talking, my children fluent English and broken Kurdish.

And whenever I disagree with them they will comfort each other by saying: Don’t worry about mum, she’s Kurdish.

Will I be the foreigner in my own home?

© Choman Hardi, LIFE FOR US (Bloodaxe Books, 2004) Reprinted by permission

Bill Bryson (b. 1951) Bill Bryson is an American author. In this text he tells us that it is not always easy for foreigners to speak English…

English for foreigners Imagine being a foreigner and having to learn that in English one tells a lie but the truth, that a person who says “I could care less” means the same thing as someone who says “I couldn’t care less,” that a sign in a store saying ALL ITEMS NOT ON SALE doesn’t mean literally what it says (that every item is not on sale) but rather that only some of the items are on sale, that when a person says to you, “How do you do?” he will be taken aback if you reply, with impeccable logic, “How do I do what?”

MOTHER TONGUE: THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE

by Bill Bryson (Hamish Hamilton, 1990) Copyright © Bill Bryson, 1990 Reproduced by permission of Penguin Book Ltd.

CHAPTER 1

11

David Crystal (b. 1941) David Crystal is one of the world’s most famous experts on language.

Read his comments on how expressions from films enter the English language.

Make my day!

Right from the earliest days of film, catchphrases have been extracted from the film medium and “make my day” I think is one of the most famous. Well, you may remember it, it’s Clint Eastwood, isn’t it, playing Dirty Harry in the film Sudden Impact. He invites

an armed thug to take him on and Clint Eastwood is holding a very big gun – so he’s just waiting for the thug to do something horrible, and he says “go ahead, make my day!”.

Well it just caught on, it spread in meaning – people started using it, of course not with guns in their hands, they started using it within a sort of ironic circumstance. To say “make my day” means “do something that'll really please me”.

It implies a really big deal or something like that. In fact Clint Eastwood himself, when he was being elected mayor of Carmel, went round the whole of his little town, his little city, with a T-shirt on – “elect me mayor – make my day!” © David Crystal, BBC Reprinted by permission

“Language is power, life and the instrument of culture…”

Angela Carter (1940 – 1992) English writer and novelist

READ AT YOUR OWN LEVEL. CHOOSE BETWEEN: broken > adj. here: not fluent catchphrase > n. well-known sentence or phrase comfort > v. calm down, soothe fluent > adj. here: speak a language well ironic circumstance > e. humorous situation lingua franca > e. shared language for people who do not speak the same native language literally > adv. exactly mayor > n. leader of the group who governs a town or city

Basic Challenging Demanding (the whole text)

12

TEXT 2

Language & Culture

Jenny K Blake

Brown Cheese Please When a foreigner comes to Norway, he or she might not understand our language, but we can communicate in English. How much will a foreigner understand about Norway and Norwegians then? Is it enough to speak a common language? What about our culture – will a foreigner understand the things we do and why we do them? Here you can read a text about an Australian in Norway.

One fine day I was lucky

I was so excited

and up to the

enough to be invited to a

as I walked past the

red wooden door

typical Norwegian home for

hand painted mailbox…

a traditional Norwegian meal.

My loverly Norwegian

I sat down at the wooden

I sat smiling

host greeted me with

table decked with ketchup

in anticipation

the traditional “Hei Hei”

and toothpicks and wondered

of a traditional

what was to come

Norwegian meal.

Vær så god, it’s called Grandiosa!

Grandiosa?

CHAPTER 1

13

PÅLEGG + BRØD + MELLOMLAGSPAPIR + FOLIE + MATBOKS = MATPAKKE Matpakke – (nistepakke) food pack. These delighful little stashes can be found stuffed into the pockets, handbags, backpacks and briefcases of little weegies countrywide. They are the staple Norwegian foodsource and may be supplemented with waffles on special occasions.

1. Construction

1. Place your selected pålegg carefully onto your selected base. Trial and error is, to date, the most reliable bases in which to choose the most appropriate base for your preferred pålegg combination. DO NOT PLACE ANOTHER PIECE OF BREAD OVER YOUR BASE! You have now created a typical Norwegian “smørbrød”. Repeat the previous steps if especially hungry.

2. Preservation

2. Take a sheet of custom made “mellomlagspapir” (lay between paper) and carefully stack each smørbrød alternatively with a sheet of paper to protect your pålegg. In no circumstances should a layer of bread be attempted. Closed sandwiches are a rare phenomenon in Norway and anyone seen eating them will be instantly treated with suspicion.

3. Protection

3. Finally wrap your smørbrød stack in greaseproof paper or foil and carefully place it in a matboks, a small aluminium box to prevent your precious pålegg stack to be squashed.

Close the lid firmly and be on your merry full matboks way.

© Copyright Jenny K Blake Schibsted-forlagene AS, Oslo 2003 Reprinted by permission

READ AT YOUR OWN LEVEL. CHOOSE BETWEEN: appropriate > adj. suitable, what you prefer backpack > n. rucksack base > n. here: loaf of bread underneath the spread complexity > n. composition culinary > adj. related to cooking custom made > e. made especially for someone foodsource > n. various food

in anticipation > e. looking forward to something instantly > adj. immediately loverly > adj. loverlike, like a lover special occasion > e. not everyday staple > n. raw material supplement > v. add to date > e. so far, now, at the moment weegies > n. the author’s slang word for ‘Norwegians’

Basic Challenging & Demanding (the whole text)

14

Language & Culture

APPETIZERS

Poor English bad for business When Norwegians make contact with business partners in another country, it is important to know how to communicate. Here you can read about what might happen when the English skills are not good enough.

PAGE 16 FACTS

Do’s and Taboos of Using English Read about foreigners who have visited the USA – and have misunderstood what people said to them.

What does it mean when someone says “What’s the good word?” or “I would like to wash my hands.”?

Find out!

PAGE 18

FACTS

16

2 9 1 8 1 5 17

Neither here Nor there What is it like for a foreigner to visit Norway?

Is it enough to speak English? In this text you can see what happens when a foreigner gets information in Norwegian – it’s not easy to understand a foreign culture in a foreign language...

FACTS

PAGE 20

CHAPTER 1

Broken English & Something Muffins It’s not always easy to make clear statements in English – especially when English is not your mother tongue.

Read some sports quotes in English and see if you can understand the gap between what people have said and what they really meant…

PAGE 22 SPORT

Keep your English up to date The English language develops all the time.

New words and expressions are created and existing words change their meaning. Meet some words from music that have entered the English language. Do you know what ‘bling’, ‘cred’ or ‘hoodie’ means? Find out how the words came into being.

2 0 2 1 22

678

15

PAGE 24

91

23

01

1

25

3 14 21

26

1

24

15 16

TIMELINE

MUSIC

English Advertising in Norway Advertising is all around us – in Norwegian and in English. Why do some companies choose English in their advertising in Norway? Here you can get some ideas.

PAGE 26

16

FACTS

Language & Culture News in English

Poor English bad for business When people write business letters in English – they need to know how to use the language. Otherwise, they might lose business partners in foreign countries.

By Kristin Solberg, September 26, 2007

avoid > v. try not to benefit from > e. improve business letter > e. letter from one company to another correspondence > n. here: letters, e-mails employee > n. worker expansion > n. become greater foreign client > e. customer from another country hard > adv. with effort hardly > adv. barely, almost not, not at all insufficient > adj. not enough insult > v. offend poor skills > e. not being clever recently conducted survey > e. research that has been done lately require > v. need socialise > v. meet others socially

Norwegian companies insult foreign clients, lose business contracts and are reluctant to expand into new markets because of the poor English language skills of employees and business leaders, according to a new survey. “Norwegians think their English is much better than what it really is,” philologist Glenn Ole Hellekjær said.

More than half of the Norwegian business leaders in a recently conducted survey admitted that they had insulted foreign business partners because of insufficient knowledge of the English language, newspaper Aftenposten reported Wednesday.

The survey, conducted by philologist Glenn Ole Hellekjær on behalf of The Norwegian Centre for Foreign Languages in Education, is disappointing reading for Norwegian business. Almost 30 percent of the 664 business leaders surveyed said that their business had avoided expansion into new markets because they did not believe they had the English skills required.

Approximately 40 percent also said that representatives from their business had experienced difficulty socialising with foreign business contacts, and had avoided to follow up on new contacts because they felt unable to express themselves in English.

Worse still, 40 percent of business leaders said that they had lost business deals with foreign clients as a direct result of poor English skills.

READ AT YOUR OWN LEVEL. CHOOSE BETWEEN: Basic Challenging Demanding (the whole text)

Not surprisingly, Hellekjær commented that, “Norwegians think their English is much better than what it really is.” Hellekjær said that businesses would benefit from “thinking about language more professionally,” and that sending their employees on language courses would increase both language skills and cultural understanding. © Copyright Kristin Solberg, Aftenposten, NEWS IN ENGLISH Reprinted by permission

TRACKS

17

Said in English by Norwegians:

«We never make misteaks.»

Norwegian software company

«Sit down, I will tell you.»

Ticket collector on a ferry in Møre trying to count the passengers on a Polish bus

«I am sorry, this microphone smells each time I speak.»

Norwegian speaker at an international conference in Denmark

«Thank you for the mess.»

Norwegian Prime Minister after a church service in Brazil

«But didn't you have pigs in your decks?»

Norwegian TV-host to an American guest who complained about the slippery winter roads

«We feel narrow to precise…»

Norwegian company trying to be very specific to an English business contact

«We have hardly tried to get you the information you asked for.»

Correspondence from another Norwegian company © Copyright Stewart Clark BROKEN ENGLISH SPOKEN PERFECTLY (Frifant Forlag 2004) SOMETHING MUFFINS. MER BROKEN ENGLISH (Frifant Forlag 2005) Reprinted by permission

“Norwegians think their English is much better than what it really is.”

HELLEKJÆR

18

FACTS

Language & Culture Roger E. Axtell

Do’s and Taboos of Using English Around the World If you go to the USA, be aware that there are some expressions and ways of greeting each other that might be new to a foreigner.

Here are some examples: approach > v. come nearer carve > v. cutting of wood to form a figure confusion > n. misunderstanding encounter > n. experience freshman > n. first year student non-native > adj. foreigner shuffle away > e. move on, leave similar sounding words > e. words that sound the same tend to > e. try to tentatively > adv. carefully, uncertain usher > v. show where to go vividly > adv. clearly wash my hands > e. go to the toilet (Am.) What’s up? > e. informal greeting, like ‘How are you?’(Am.) What’s the good word? > e. informal greeting, like ‘How are you?’(Am.)

Exporting American English We are the first truly global generation. We are able to fly farther, faster, and cheaper than any previous generation. We can pick up the phone and talk via satellite, wire, or fibre optics to any spot on the globe that has access to another phone. – – – And when we communicate through these modern media, or when we travel abroad, English is the lingua franca for both business and tourism. We can explore almost every corner of the world and manage to communicate in English with at least someone.

––– We Americans have evolved a unique, ever-changing dialect, a lingo that is confounding to non-native readers and listeners. The result is confusion, sometimes even anger; but often it’s laughter, because some of the misunderstandings can be wonderfully amusing.

To document our premise – that American English is, indeed, difficult to export – we present a series of true, lighthearted stories. These will vividly introduce the common areas of communication confusion…

International Travel

”

Nan Hartman, travelling in Peru last year, asked the manager of a restaurant where she could go to wash her hands. The manager ushered her into a bathroom where some painters happened to be working.

When the painters started to leave, the manager stopped them, saying, “That’s OK. Stay. She only wants to wash her hands.”

READ AT YOUR OWN LEVEL. CHOOSE BETWEEN: Basic Challenging Demanding (the whole text)

“

Social conversations

“

”

A Korean student, armed with years of study in basic English acquired back in Seoul, was spending his first day in America as a freshman at the

TRACKS

University of Illinois. Another student, an American, approached with a friendly smile and said, “Hi. What’s the good word?” Startled, the Korean froze in his tracks. “My God!” he thought, “I don’t know the good word.

I’ve studied English for years, but no one told me about the good word.”

He shuffled away, stunned by this first encounter. Finally, he decided to solve the mystery by reversing the situation. He approached another American and tentatively repeated the question, “Hello. What’s the good word?” Seconds later, after hearing the response, he was even more confused. The reason? The American had answered, “Oh, not much.”

A postscript to this story is that the next day, as this same Korean student walked the campus, another American greeted him with “Hi! What’s up?”

“

”

Pronunciation Hernando Cardenas claims that “English is so terribly difficult because of its delicacy in pronunciation.” When asked to explain, Cardenas offered this quiz: “What do you Americans call the animal that gives us wool?

(Answer: sheep) What do you call the white material you sleep between? (Answer: sheets) What do you call the small pieces of wood that fall to the ground when you carve something? (Answer: chips) What do you call something that does not cost much? (Answer: cheap) What is another word for boats? (Answer: ships)” After several more examples like this, Cardenas concluded: “You see? All of those words are so similar in sound. And we know that you have one similar sounding word that is terribly rude … which we want to avoid … so we tend to avoid anything that even comes close!”

“

”

DO’S AND TABOOS OF USING ENGLISH AROUND THE WORLD Copyright © 1993, Roger E. Axtell Reprinted with permission of John Wiley & Sons, Inc.

19

20

FACTS

Language & Culture Bill Bryson

Neither here Nor there Bill Bryson (b. 1951) is an American author, but he has lived in Britain most of his adult life. He is famous for his travel books, where he tells about the sights, culture and people he meets on his travels.

Express 2000 > e. bus travelling from Oslo to Hammerfest according to > e. here: written in annual maintenance > e. service/repair once a year as far as I am concerned > e. in my opinion casualness > n. calmness chambermaid > n. woman who cleans and tidies the rooms in a hotel endanger > v. risk ignorant > adj. not know about Mayor > n. the head of a city rudimentary > adj. basic swirl > v. move round and round quickly transfixed > adj. fascinated: having your attention fixated (almost as a spell) translucent > adj. allowing light to pass through, but not transparent unsettlingly > adv. uncertain, nervous work a treat > e. be very effective

READ AT YOUR OWN LEVEL. CHOOSE BETWEEN: Basic Challenging Demanding (the whole text)

It’s not always easy to communicate with people with a different language and a culture that is new to you. Being fluent in English only, it’s a good thing that the people Bill Bryson meets know their English...

In this extract he describes his journey to Hammerfest. He decided to stay there until he saw the Northern Lights – and then continue to Oslo.

1. To the North …I consulted the Express 2000 leaflet that came with each seat and read with horror the words ‘til sammen 2,000 km non-stop i 30 timer.’ Now I don’t know Norwegian from alphabet soup, but even I could translate that. Two thousand kilometres! Non-stop! Thirty hours…

2. Hammerfest One day, lacking anything at all to do, I went and saw the Mayor. I told him I was a journalist, but really I just wanted someone to talk to. He had an undertaker’s face and wore blue jeans and a blue work shirt, which made him look unsettlingly like a prisoner on day release, but he was a kind man.

He told me at length about the problems of the local economy and as we parted he said: ‘You must come to my house one evening. I have a sixteen-year-old daughter… She would like to practise her English.’

Ah. I’d have gone, but the invitation never came. Afterwards, I went to Kokken’s and wrote in my diary, ‘Interviewed the Mayor. Weather cold.’ …

On my sixteenth day in Hammerfest it happened. I was returning from the mainland after my morning walk and in an empty piece of sky above the town there appeared a translucent cloud of many colours – pinks and greens and blues and pale purples. It glimmered and seemed to swirl. Slowly it stretched across the sky. It had an oddly oily quality about it, like the rainbows you sometimes see in a pool of petrol. I stood transfixed. …

TRACKS

21

The next day I went to the tourist office to report my good news to Hans, the tourism director who had become something of a friend, and to reserve a seat on the following week’s bus. There was no longer any need to hang around. Hans looked surprised and said, ‘Didn’t you know?

There’s no bus next week. It’s going to Alta for its annual maintenance.’

I was crushed. Two more weeks in Hammerfest. What was I going to do with myself for two more weeks?

‘But you’re in luck,’ Hans added, ‘You can go today.’

I couldn’t take this in. ‘What?’

‘The bus should have arrived yesterday but it didn’t get through because of heavy snows around Kautokeino. It arrived this morning.

Didn’t you see it out there? They’re going back again today.’

‘Today? Really? When?’

He looked at his watch with the casualness of someone who has lived for years in the middle of nowhere and will be living there for years more yet. ‘Oh, in about ten minutes, I should think.’

Activities

3. Oslo I still enjoy that sense of never knowing quite what’s going on. In my hotel in Oslo, where I spent four days after returning from Hammerfest, the chambermaid each morning left me a packet of something called Bio Tex Blå, a ‘minipakke for ferie, hybel og weekend’, according to the instructions. I spent many happy hours sniffing it and experimenting with it, uncertain whether it was for washing out clothes or gargling or cleaning the toilet bowl. In the end I decided it was for washing out clothes – it worked a treat – but for all I know for the rest of the week everywhere I went in Oslo people were saying to each other, ‘You know, that man smelled like toilet-bowl cleaner.’

When I told friends in London that I was going to travel around Europe and write a book about it, they said, ‘Oh, you must speak a lot of languages.’

‘Why, no,’ I would reply with a certain pride, ‘only English,’ and they would look at me as if I were crazy. But that’s the glory of foreign travel, as far as I am concerned. I don’t want to know what people are talking about.

I can’t think of anything that excites a greater sense of childlike wonder than to be in a country where you are ignorant of almost everything.

Suddenly you are five years old again. You can’t read anything, you have only the most rudimentary sense of how things work, you can’t even reliably cross a street without endangering your life. Your whole existence becomes a series of interesting guesses.

NEITHER HERE NOR THERE by Bill Bryson, published by Black Swan Reprinted by permission of The Random House Group Ltd.

Hammerfest and Kvalsund offers its visitors varied and exciting adventures, activities and attractions based on that which is our identity: Wild and untouched countryside, exciting history, coastal culture, open landscapes and – not least of all – open people! The people up here are well-known for their hospitality. We have room for all guests. You will find us eager to talk – either face to face, or through the exhibits of the museums, which tell the history of us, or customs and work, our alliance with nature and our dependence on nature's various resources.

Source: Hammerfest

22

SPORT

Language & Culture Stewart Clark

Broken English & Something Muffins breakdown of communication > e. not be able to understand each other British side >e. here: football team from Britain climb > v. move towards the top coach > n. someone who trains athletes (sport) couch > n. sofa communicate > v. give and get information gem > n. jewel hard > adv. with effort hardly > adv. barely, almost not, not at all pass > v. kick the ball poor > adj. bad prediction > n. say what you think will happen pure > adj. healthy screw > v. turn something / sexual intercourse (slang) soccer strip > e. football gear, football clothes of a special brand snore > n. a loud noise made by heavy breathing when sleeping

How do we use English in sports? Hopefully, we use the language well and communicate with people. However, sometimes we say things that are completely impossible for people to understand. What if we believe that a word is the same in Norwegian and English when it’s not?

What if we use English expressions in a wrong way? The result might be humorous or strange – or it may cause a complete breakdown of communication.

From ‘Something Muffins’ Sport is international and it is expected that Norwegians like everyone else can express themselves in correct English. This is not always so easy.

«Brann is slowly but surely climbing on the table.»

From Brann’s home page «We play with 2 stoppers and 3 spissers.»

RBK coach Nils Arne Eggen «Last time we played a British side was the famous snow camp against Chelsea.»

Tromsø coach at a press conference But it is not only Norwegians who have problems with English.

Journalists trying to make a snappy headline, show how it is not done...

«Football-mad gives birth to son wearing soccer strip.»

From the BBC’s website ... or when giving a live commentary:

READ AT YOUR OWN LEVEL. CHOOSE BETWEEN:

«I’m going to make a prediction – it could go either way.»

Ron Atkinson

Basic Challenging Demanding (the whole text)

«I can see the carrot at the end of the tunnel.»

Stuart Pearce © Copyright Stewart Clark SOMETHING MUFFINS. MER BROKEN ENGLISH (Frifant Forlag 2005) Reprinted by permission

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From ‘Broken English’ ... and now, here are some gems from the world of sport.

«You better pass yourself.»

Norwegian female footballer to an American opponent «I tried to screw the ball in the goal.»

Norwegian female footballer on American TV «I just wanted to lie down on the coach.»

Exhausted Swedish female footballer «Screw down your expectations.

We wanted to play with long balls.»

Danish footballer at a press conference «There is hope in a hanging snore.»

RBK coach Nils Arne Eggen at an international press conference «Wimbledon tried hardly, but still lost.»

Norwegian football coach on BBC Radio «He was used to man-to-man fights in the WC.» From Rosenborg’s website referring to the football World Cup «Wayne Rooney is a poor, poor talent.»

According to the Swede who coached the English football team.

Aftenposten suggested that most people considered Wayne Rooney as “pure, pure talent”

«The skier took off with a tremendous fart.»

Ski jump commentator

© Copyright Stewart Clark BROKEN ENGLISH SPOKEN PERFECTLY (Frifant Forlag 2004) Reprinted by permission

“You can take all this for good fish.”

FROM SOMETHING MUFFINS

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MUSIC

Language & Culture David Crystal

Keep your English up to date accessory > n. items you wear or carry; belts, jewellery, handbag, etc. achieve > v. gain community > n. group sharing the same interests controversial > adj. not agreed upon credibility > n. being believable deliberately obscure > e. trying to hide something familiarity marker > e. something that is well-known hooded > adj. having a hood linguistics > n. the study of language nationally > adv. across the country passé > adj. out of date, no longer popular presence > n. influence reduplication > n. here: repetition of the same word sound-symbolic character > e. connection between the sound of a word and its meaning stereotype > n. a fixed idea that people have about what someone or something is like, especially an idea that is wrong

The English language is constantly developing. New words and expressions are created and existing words change their meaning.

Read language Professor David Crystal’s comments on how words and expressions from MUSIC enter the English language…

Bling Bling, bling – it arrived in English in the late 1990s, used to describe diamonds and jewellery and all kinds of showy clothing, accoutrements…

Well, it became nationally known in the USA when the artist Baby Gangster – Cash Money artist – made a hit hip-hop song called ‘Bling Bling’. And it soon arrived in Britain, where it was more usually used without the reduplication, you know, ‘bling’, by itself. It was in dictionaries by 2002.

Well, the sound-symbolic character of the word – glistening light reflected by metal – it caught popular attention. The Times ran an article on it. It was the title of a novel by Erica Kennedy, and its sense began to broaden as people began to use the word in new ways. There's a website, ‘Think Bling!’ defining it as ‘anything shiny and worth a good amount of money’. Cars can now be bling.

And even that definition is passé – a rich meal can be bling. ‘Bling Breakfast’ was the headline of a newspaper article in New York a couple of years ago.

But the word’s takeover by the middle-classes has made it worthless to the rapping community. My rapping contacts tell me they’d never use it now, except as a joke!

Cred READ AT YOUR OWN LEVEL. CHOOSE BETWEEN:

Cred, short for ‘credibility’, that is, among your peer group. It started out in the late 1970s, in the phrase ‘street cred’, which meant having reputation or status among your mates or your friends on the street.

Basic Challenging Demanding (the whole text)

And then it became more general – the phrase became fashionable, trendy, that was the meaning. It had an adjective use, people said things like, ‘That’s

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a cred show!’ or ‘You’re wearing cred jewellery!’ – meaning fashionable jewellery, trendy jewellery.

But it was mainly as a noun that it came into widespread use. It meant sort of belief, or persuasiveness, or something that goes down well with an audience. A politician might be said to have ‘zero cred when it comes to matters of security’. In other words, nobody believes what he says at all.

Or rappers might be said to be ‘battling for cred’, in other words, getting an audience that likes them. Shows, cinema shows, theatre shows, might be said to have ‘lots of cred’ if they go down well.

Hoodie There was a newspaper headline in the middle of last year, ‘Hoodie Hoodlums’ it said. It referred to people who were going around looking like gangs wearing hooded tops, baseball caps, clothing which deliberately obscured the face, suggesting that the wearer might be a danger to the public, so much so that baseball caps and hooded tops were actually banned in 2005 at one shopping mall in Britain. Well, as you might expect, it caused a huge reaction. I mean, youngsters complaining of being stereotyped just because of a few nasty people.

The linguistics isn’t so controversial. The spelling first of all, ‘hoody’, or ‘hoodie’, and more often with the ‘ie’ than not. And that’s because it’s the usual familiarity marker that you get on lots of words in English, words like, sweetie, auntie, goalie (goal keeper), daddie and mummie, and of course in names too, Susie (Susan).

Well, will it catch on? I think so, judging by the huge sales of hoodies now. And also, it’s achieved a kind of presence in popular music. There was a single released towards the end of 2005 by Lady Sovereign, it was actually called ‘Hoodie’. And then on the web the other day, I was looking at iPods, and the latest accessory to keep your iPod clothed – what do you think it’s called? An iPod hoodie! © Copyright David Crystal, BBC Reprinted by permission of David Crystal

“A language must change, to keep pace with society.”

DAVID CRYSTAL , 1963

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TIMELINE

Language & Culture

English Advertising in Norway advertising > n. public promotion of a product or brand association > n. idea banner > n. long strip of cloth or paper used for advertising brand > n. trade mark, product name branding > n. making a brand name well-known campaign > n. here: activities to promote a brand consciousness > n. mind common language > e. shared language, understood by different groups cultural differences > e. differences between people belonging to different cultures, based on various traditions and lifestyles eye-catching > adj. very noticeable, easy to see familiar > adj. known increasingly > adv. more and more promote > v. try to sell something slogan > n. phrase that is used repeatedly in advertising target audience > e. the main group of people that the advertising is aimed at; people of a certain age group, gender, lifestyle, etc.

The secret of all effective advertising is not the creation of new and tricky words and pictures, but one of putting familiar words and pictures into new relationships.

Leo Burnett We are exposed to advertising everywhere – in newspapers and magazines, on TV and radio, at the cinema, on posters along the roads, on buses, trains and undergrounds, on the Internet and a number of more places. There are advertising for Coca-Cola, Nike, iPod, Björn Borg, Devold or Leiv Vidar to mention only a very few. Some of these – shown in Norway – are made in the English language.

Coke is it!

This is a Coca Cola slogan. Norwegians have heard it for years – in English. What would a Norwegian version have been like? “Cola er det!” or “Cola er tingen!” or maybe “Cola er løsningen på alt!”. It would not be quite the same, would it? When English commercials are shown in countries like Norway, where English is not the mother tongue, the idea is that the slogan – or pay off – will be recognized, that it is eye-catching and that it sounds nice.

Just do it.

Do you recognize the slogan Just do it? It is a powerful one. It has been used to promote athletic shoes and sports equipment for more than 10 years. In fact, it is so well known that the company made commercials with Just do it written in white on a black background – and nothing else. No more text, no pictures, not even a logo. But it was recognized. People knew that the slogan meant Nike. From 1988 to 1998 Nike spent $300 million on overseas advertising; most of it on the Just do it campaign. Have they managed to make the slogan unforgettable worldwide?

Worldwide branding READ AT YOUR OWN LEVEL. CHOOSE BETWEEN: Basic Challenging Demanding (the whole text)

Large international companies often promote their brands worldwide, using an English slogan. If you think ‘Coca-Cola’ when you hear Coke is it!

1982

Coke is it! (English slogan)

1988

Just do it. (English slogan)

TRACKS or ‘Nike’ when you hear Just do it, the slogans have entered your consciousness. This is called branding. People from various countries share a common language – the English advertising language.

Cultural Differences Even though people understand English, there are cultural differences between countries. In some cultures people might buy sports equipment and soda drinks, while people in other cultures choose differently. Money, values and lifestyle are some of the reasons. Therefore, companies need to consider both the language and the culture when they choose worldwide branding.

Norwegian brands Norwegian companies tend to use Norwegian in advertising, but not all companies and not always. Some brands are promoted with an English brand name, a slogan or a song in the background of radio and TV commercials. Maybe the companies use English to make the brand name sound nice or more interesting and to give the target audience certain associations.

Worn by Norwegians since 1853 Devold is a Norwegian company that has chosen a slogan in English – in a Norwegian advertising campaign. The slogan Worn by Norwegians since 1853 is used in printed commercials, on the Internet and on the product packing. It is combined with the logo DEVOLD ULLUNDERTØY and a text in Norwegian with the heading HISTORIEN OM DEVOLD. The campaign gives a message about Devold being a brand based on tradition and Norwegian values, so why use an English slogan? Which associations do they want to give the target audience?

King of Pølser Some commercials in Norway even mix English and Norwegian, like the banner from Leiv Vidar and Hydro Texaco which says King of Pølser. You could see the banner at petrol stations in Norway in 2007. What would the alternative be? King of Sausages? King of Hot Dogs? Pølsekongen?

Leiv Vidar and Hydro Texaco chose this mix of languages for a reason. It could be that it sounds better than the Norwegian alternative, or that it is eye-catching or maybe humorous. Which reactions were they hoping for?

One thing is for certain, English is increasingly entering the world of advertising – in Norway.

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King of Pølser (English & Norwegian Worn by Norwegians since 1853 mixed slogan) (English slogan in Norwegian text)

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INTRO

CHAPTER 2

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Everyone is entitled to all the rights and freedoms set forth in this Declaration, without distinction of any kind, such as race, colour, sex, language, religion, political or other opinion, national or social origin, property, birth or other status.

Article 2, Universal Declaration of Human Rights

Why does racism still exist? What is being done about racism today? What can we do ourselves to eliminate racism?

Meet people who have spent their lives fighting racism – to free people from slavery, segregation and apartheid. In the USA, Abraham Lincoln fought to free the slaves in the 1860s. A hundred years later, Rosa Parks and Martin Luther King continued the struggle for equality. In South Africa, Steve Biko and Nelson Mandela fought a similar struggle for equal rights for people of all races. See how they made a difference!

apartheid > n. a policy of segregation on grounds of race in South Africa, from Africaans meaning ‘apartness’ civil rights > e. the rights of citizens to political and social freedom and equality discrimination > n. prejudice and negative treatment based on which category you belong to rather than who you are equal > adj. here: having the same value and rights as another human rights > e. basic rights which all people should have oppression > n. unjust or cruel use of power prejudice > n. an unreasonable dislike of someone or something racism > n. the belief that race accounts for differences in human character or ability and that a particular race is superior to others; discrimination or prejudice based on race

1963 King’s “I Have a Dream” speech 1968 1964 King: Nobel King Peace Prize assassinated

Martin Luther King fought segregation in the USA 1950

Some useful words about Free Characters

1960

1970 1964 Mandela imprisoned for life

1980

Nelson Mandela fought apartheid in South Africa

1990 1990 Mandela released from prison

1994 Mandela: President in South Africa 1993 Mandela: Nobel Peace Prize

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TEXT 1

Free Kolumnetittel Characters

Freedom Fighters Throughout American and South African history, many people have fought segregation. They have struggled for racial justice – they have struggled to get equal rights for people of all races.

Voices of Civil Rights in the USA Segregation is the policy or practice of separating people of different races, classes, or ethnic groups in schools, housing, and public or commercial facilities, especially as a form of discrimination.

Abraham Lincoln (1809–1865) The 16th US president

Rosa Parks (1913–2005)

Abraham Lincoln worked to free the slaves, even if it meant Civil War (1861–65).

The Southern states wanted to keep slaves, while the Northern states wanted to free them. The Northern states won the Civil War in 1865 and slavery was abolished in the 13th Amendment to the American Constitution.

In 1955 Rosa Parks was arrested in Montgomery, Alabama, because she refused to give up her seat to a white person and move to the back of a city bus. This started the Montgomery Bus Boycott where blacks refused to ride city buses for 381 days – until they had equal rights on Montgomery buses. She is known as ‘the mother of the Civil Rights Movement’.

NAACP (founded in 1909)

Martin Luther King, Jr. (1929–1968)

Black and white Americans founded the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP).

The members fought racial discrimination and segregation in the USA, for example through campaigns to give black people the same education as white people.

Martin Luther King, Jr. dreamed of justice and equality for all. He organized non-violent demonstrations, like the Montgomery Bus Boycott (1955) and the March on Washington, where he gave his ‘I Have a Dream’ speech (1963).

He received the Nobel Peace Prize (1964) and is known as ‘the father of the Civil Rights Movement’.

“No man is good enough to govern another man without that other’s consent.”

Abraham Lincoln

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Voices against Apartheid in South Africa Apartheid was the policy of segregation on grounds of race in South Africa from 1948 to 1990. The word comes from Afrikaans and means ‘apartness’.

The African National Congress

Nelson Mandela (b. 1918)

(formed 1912)

Nelson Mandela has spent his life fighting for equal rights. He joined the ANC in their fight against apartheid.

He was arrested and spent 27 years in prison. Then he helped end apartheid and received the Nobel Peace Prize in 1993. South Africa began to change rapidly and in 1994 he was elected president.

The black people had no democratic rights, so they formed their own organisation (ANC). At first, they used peaceful methods (strikes and demonstrations). They tried to convince the government that they should be treated as equals. But instead the situation got worse and worse. After some bloody clashes where the police shot demonstrators, the ANC decided to use violence in their struggle.

Steven Biko (1946–1977) Steven Biko was an anti-apartheid activist in the 1960s–70s, and the first president of the Black Peoples Convention (BPC). His struggle is shown in the film ‘Cry Freedom’, which also shows how he died in police custody, after having been beaten up. He has been called a ‘martyr of the anti-apartheid movement’.

Desmond Tutu (b. 1931) Archbishop Desmond Tutu is the General Secretary of the South African Council of Churches. In 1984, he received the Nobel Peace Prize for his work for ‘a democratic and just society without racial divisions’. He has worked for peace, using non-violent methods to resolve the problem of apartheid in South Africa: ‘Let us work to be peacemakers,’ he says.

“Without forgiveness, there’s no future.”

Desmond Tutu

READ AT YOUR OWN LEVEL. CHOOSE BETWEEN: abolish > v. end, stop anti-apartheid movement > e. people fighting segregation Civil Rights Movement > e. the movement for equal rights between races in the USA in the 1960s democratic rights > e. right to freedom equal rights > e. be allowed to do the same as other people, have the same privileges peacemaker > n. someone who tries to bring peace police custody > e. arrested and brought to the police station

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TEXT 2

Free Characters

John Henrik Clarke

The Boy who Painted Christ Black John Henrik Clarke (1915–1998) was an African American historian and author.

He has published articles, poetry and short stories. “The Boy Who Painted Christ Black” was written in 1940 and adapted into the film “America’s Dream” in 1996.

In this shortened and adapted version you can read about the life of black people in the USA before the 1960s and the Civil Rights Movement.

He was the smartest boy in the Muscogee County School – for colored children. Everybody knew this. The teacher always pronounced his name clearly as she pointed him out as the ideal student. Once I heard her say: “If he were white he might, some day, become President.” Only Aaron Crawford wasn’t white; quite the contrary. His skin was so solid black that it glowed, reflecting a goodness that was strange, and beyond my comprehension.

His great variety of talent startled the teachers. This caused his classmates to look upon him with a mixed feeling of awe and envy.

Before Thanksgiving, he always drew turkeys and pumpkins on the blackboard. On George Washington’s birthday, he drew large American flags surrounded by little hatches. It was these small masterpieces that made him the most talked-about colored boy in Columbus, Georgia. The Negro principal of the Muscogee County School said he would some day be a great painter.

For the teacher’s birthday about a week before commencement, Aaron Crawford painted the picture that caused an uproar, and a turning point, at the Muscogee County School. The moment he entered the room that morning, all eyes fell on him. He was carrying a large square parcel wrapped in old newspapers. As he went to his seat, the teacher’s eyes followed his every motion.

Aaron put his books down, then smiling broadly, advanced toward the teacher’s desk. His alert eyes were so bright with joy that they were almost frightening. The children were leaning forward in their seats, staring greedily at him, waiting eagerly to see what he was carrying.

Already the teacher sensed that Aaron had a present for her. Still smiling, he placed it on her desk and began to help her unwrap it. As the last piece of paper fell from the large frame, the teacher jerked her hand away from it

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suddenly, her eyes flickering unbelievingly. Her heavy breathing was frightening. There was no other sound in the room.

Aaron stared questioningly at her and she moved her hand back to the present cautiously, as if it were a dangerous living thing. I am sure it was the one thing she least expected.

With a quick movement I rose up from my desk. Murmurs spread through the room. The teacher turned toward the children, trying to quieten them down with her eyes. They did not move their eyes from the present that Aaron had brought her… It was a large picture of Christ – painted black!

Aaron Crawford went back to his seat, a feeling of triumph reflecting in his every movement.

The teacher faced us. Her half-smile had become uncertain. She searched the bright faces before her and started to smile again, occasionally stealing quick glances at the large picture propped on her desk.

“Aaron,” she spoke at last, “this is a most welcome present. Thanks. I will treasure it.” She paused, then went on speaking. “Looks like you are going to be quite an artist… Suppose you come forward and tell the class how you came to paint this remarkable picture.”

When he rose to speak, to explain about the picture, there was silence and the children gave him all of their attention… something they rarely did for the teacher. He did not speak at first; he just stood there in front of the room, observing his audience carefully, like a great concert artist.

Read on READ AT YOUR OWN LEVEL. CHOOSE BETWEEN: adapted > adj. changed, made suitable awe > n. great respect beyond comprehension > e. not to understand Civil Rights Movement > e. the movement for equal rights between races in the US in the 1960s hatches > n. decorating lines motion > n. movement murmur > n. something someone says very quiet quite the contrary > e. the opposite uproar > n. debate and criticism about

Basic Challenging & Demanding (the whole text)

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TEXT 2

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“It was like this,” he said, placing full emphasis on every word. “You see, my uncle who lives in New York teaches classes in Negro History. When he visited us last year he was telling me about the many great black folks who have made history. He said black folks were once the most powerful people on earth. When I asked him about Christ, he said no one ever proved whether he was black or white. Somehow a feeling came over me that he was a black man, ‘cause he was so kind and forgiving, kinder than I have ever seen white people be. So, when I painted his picture I couldn’t help but paint it as I thought it was.”

After this, the little artist sat down, smiling broadly, as if he had discovered something that ordinary people could never know.

The teacher could do nothing but invite the children to come forward so they could get a good view of Aaron’s unique piece of art.

When I came close to the picture, I noticed it was painted with the kind of paint you get in the five and ten cent stores. Its shape was blurred slightly, as if someone had blurred the frame before the paint had time to dry. The eyes of Christ were deep-set and sad, very much like those of Aaron’s father, who was a minister in the local Baptist Church. This picture of Christ looked much different from the one I saw hanging on the wall when I was in Sunday School. It looked more like a helpless Negro, pleading silently for mercy.

For the next few days, there was much talk about Aaron’s picture. The school term ended the following week and Aaron’s picture, along with the best work done by the students that year, was on display in the assembly room. Naturally, Aaron’s picture was in the place of honor.

There was no ordinary school work to be done on commencement day and all the children were full of joy. The girls in their brightly colored dresses gave the school the delightful air of the beginning of spring.

In the middle of the day all the children were gathered in the assembly hall. On this day we always had a visit from a man whom all the teachers spoke of with mixed esteem and fear. Professor Danual, they called him, and he was supervisor of all the city schools, including those ones set aside for colored children.

When the great man arrived, the children rose, bowed politely, and sat down again, their eyes examining him closely.

He was a tall white man with solid gray hair. His eyes were the clearest blue I have ever seen. They were the only life-like things about him.

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As he made his way to the front of the room the Negro principal, George Du Vaul, was walking ahead of him, cautiously preventing anything from getting in his way. As he passed me, I heard the teachers, frightened, sucking in their breath, felt the tension tightening.

A large carefully polished chair was in the center of the platform.

The supervisor went straight to it. The Negro principal introduced the distinguished guest and he gave us a short speech. It wasn’t a very important speech.

After he had sat down, the school chorus sang two spirituals and the girls in the fourth grade did an Indian folk dance. This brought the commencement program to an end.

After this the supervisor came down from the platform and began to view the work on display in front of the chapel.

Suddenly his face changed. His clear blue eyes flickered in astonishment.

He was looking at Aaron Crawford’s picture of Christ. Mechanically he moved closer to the picture and stood gazing fixedly at it as though it were a dangerous animal that would rise any moment and destroy everything.

We waited for his next movement. The silence was almost suffocating.

At last he twisted himself around and began to search the grim faces before him. His eyes came to rest on the Negro principal.

“Who painted this sacrilegious nonsense?” he demanded sharply.

“I painted it, sir.” These were Aaron’s words, spoken hesitantly. He wetted his lips timidly and looked up at the supervisor, his eyes voicing a sad plea for understanding.

Read on READ AT YOUR OWN LEVEL. CHOOSE BETWEEN: assembly room/hall > e. aula cautiously preventing > e. carefully stopping commencement day > e. the day US students get their degrees esteem > n. admiration and respect five and ten cent store > e. shop with items that do not cost much flicker in astonishment > e. wandering gaze because of great surprise plead > v. ask in an intense, emotional way sacrilegious > adj. show disrespect towards something holy sucking in their breath > e. don’t dare to breathe

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TEXT 2

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He spoke again, this time more coherently. “Th’ principal said a colored person have jes a much right paintin’ Jesus black as a white person have paintin’ him white. And he says…” At this point he halted abruptly, as if to search for his next words. He stammered out a few more words, then stopped again.

The supervisor took a few steps towards him. His face was red with rage.

“Well, go on!” he said angrily, … “I’m still listening.”

Aaron moved his lips but no words passed them. His eyes wandered around the room, resting finally, with an air of hope, on the face of the Negro principal. After a moment, he turned his face away again as if something he had said had betrayed an understanding between him and the principal.

Then the principal stepped forward to defend the school’s prize student.

“I encouraged the boy in painting that picture,” he said firmly. “And it was with my permission that he brought the picture into this school.

I don’t think the boy is so far wrong in painting Christ black. The artists of all other races have painted whatsoever God they worship to resemble themselves. I see no reason why we cannot do the same. After all, Christ was born in that part of the world that had always been populated by colored people. There is a strong possibility that he could have been a Negro.”

But for the sound of heavy breathing, I would have sworn that his words had frozen everyone in the hall. I had never heard the little principal speak so boldly to anyone, black or white.

The supervisor swallowed. His face was full of silent rage.

“Have you been teaching these children things like that?” he asked the Negro principal, sternly.

“I have been teaching them that their race has produced great kings and queens as well as slaves and servants,” the principal said. “The time is long overdue when we should let the world know that we created and enjoyed a splendid civilization long before the people of Europe had a written language.”

The supervisor coughed. “You are not being paid to teach such things in this school, and I shall have to ask you to resign as principal.”

George Du Vaul did not speak. He turned round slowly and walked out of the room towards his office.

The supervisor’s eyes followed him until he was out of focus. Then he murmered: “There’ll be a lot of fuss in this world if you start people thinking that Christ was a nigger.”

CHAPTER 2

Some of the teachers followed the principal out of the chapel, leaving the children restless and not knowing what to do next. Finally we started back to our rooms. The supervisor was behind me. I heard him murmur to himself: “Damn, if niggers ain’t getting smarter.”

A few days later I heard that the principal had accepted a summer job as art instructor of a small high school somewhere in South Georgia and had gotten permission from Aaron’s parents to take him along so he could continue to encourage him in his painting.

I was on my way home when I saw him leaving his office. He was carrying a large briefcase and some books tucked under his arm. He had already said good-bye to all the teachers. And strangely, he did not look brokenhearted. As he headed for the large front door, he readjusted his glasses, but did not look back. He had the appearance of a man who had done a great thing, something greater than any ordinary man would do.

Aaron Crawford was waiting outside for him. They walked down the street together. He put his arm around Aaron’s shoulder affectionately.

He was talking sincerely to Aaron about something, and Aaron was listening, deeply earnest.

I watched them until they were far down the street. Even from this distance I could see they were still walking like two people who had won some sort of victory.

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“ ... little black Alabama boys were not fully licensed to imagine themselves as conduits of social and political change. ...they called me ‘bubba’ and because I had the mind to do so, I decided to add the ‘e’ to the family name ‘Clark’ and change the spelling of ‘Henry’ to ‘Henrik,’ after the Scandinavian rebel playwright, Henrik Ibsen. I like his spunk and the social issues he addressed in ‘A Doll’s House.”

John Henrik Clarke

© John Henrik Clarke 1940 from BLACK AMERICAN SHORT STORIES Hill and Wang 1993

READ AT YOUR OWN LEVEL. CHOOSE BETWEEN: accept > v. agree to take, say yes appearance > n. looks betray > v. tell something you should not have told coherently > adv. clear and easy to understand encourage > v. give support long overdue > e. very late, overtime resemble > v. be similar resign > v. leave your job spunk > n. courage sternly > adv. serious and strict

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Free Characters

APPETIZERS

The Rabid Racists & Strange Fruit Read about the Ku Klux Klan and their lynching of African Americans in the USA. You can also meet the blues singer Billy Holiday and the song “Strange Fruit”.

She sings about blacks who were hanged and burned by members of the KKK. MUSIC

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Martin Luther King, Jr., Free at Last Read more about Rosa Parks and Martin Luther King and their struggle for equal rights for blacks and whites in the USA in the 1950s and 60s – the Civil Rights Movement.

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The Atlantic Slave Trade How did black people become slaves and how did the USA manage to abolish slavery? These and more questions are answered in this text about the Atlantic Slave Trade.

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Goodbye Bafana Read more about Nelson Mandela, the South African freedom fighter who was imprisoned for 27 years. James Gregory tells about his first day as a warden at Robben Island Prison, where he met Nelson Mandela.

PAGE 50 FACTS

The Moment Before the Gun Went Off Meet a white, South African farmer who shoots and kills a young black man who works for him.

The killing will probably be reported in the newspapers all over the world.

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The Rise of a Nation What was apartheid and how did South Africa manage to get rid of it and become a democratic nation? These and more questions are answered in this text about South Africa’s history. Read about the rise of a nation.

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MUSIC/FICTION

Free Characters Terry Deary

The Rabid Racists bulging eyes > e. big, swollen eyes Civil Rights Movement > e. the movement for equal rights between races in the USA in the 1960s crop > n. plants such as fruit or vegetables in a particular season or place (here: person) crow > n. big black bird Ku Klux Klan > e. secret society of white Americans who use violence against Blacks and Jews gallant south > e. stylish southern US states gather > v. here: attract, fall down on rot > v. dry up, burn to dust slave > n. person owned and controlled by someone else struggle > n. here: fight for freedom suffering > n. serious pain torturer > n. someone who makes people suffer whip > v. beat with a piece of leather or a rope white mob > e. large crowd of violent white people

READ AT YOUR OWN LEVEL. CHOOSE BETWEEN: Basic Challenging Demanding (the whole text)

The cruel Ku Klux Klan (KKK) was formed in 1866 after the Civil War had freed the slaves. The KKK members (mostly men) wanted to go back to the ‘good old days’ when whites were bosses and blacks were slaves. They would do this by making life miserable for black people.

It was against the law to be a member of the KKK so the murdering members wore silly pointy hats to hide their faces. Sadly there was nothing silly about their hobby.

Postcards from Hell Governments can pass laws. Groups like the KKK can be banned. But laws and bans can’t always change the cruelty in people’s hearts. A hundred years after slavery was stopped there were still people punishing black people for simply being black!

This makes as much sense as your teacher punishing you if your name is Mary or George because your teacher has decided to hate all Marys and Georges!

In May 2000 a collection of postcards were put on display in New York.

They were all photographs of black people being ‘lynched’ – that is hanged by a mob without any sort of trial.

Some of the black victims’ crimes were as simple as not showing their racist killers ‘enough respect’. The victims were often whipped or cut up or burned before or while they were dying, just to add to the suffering.

In 1916 in Texas a 17-year-old black boy was accused of murder. A white mob got him before the police and began by cutting off his ears. They then fastened him by a chain and began to roast him over a fire. When he tried to climb the chain to escape they cut off his fingers. The scene was turned into a postcard. On the back of the postcard was a message from one of the torturers to his family…

The postcards didn’t just show the victim. They showed the large crowds that gathered to watch the hangings like some sort of sport.

The earliest postcards were from the 1880s – that’s nasty. But the later ones are from 1968 – that’s scary.

Horrible Histories: The USA Text Copyright © Terry Deary 2001 Illustrations copyright © Martin Brown 2001 Reproduced with the permission of Scholastic Ltd All Rights Reserved

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Lewis Allen & Billie Holiday

Strange Fruit “Strange Fruit” was written as a poem in 1937 and was later performed as a song – most famously by Billie Holiday. The song became the anthem of the anti-lynching movement in the USA and the Civil Rights Movement of the 50s and 60s. The song was important in the struggle for Black rights.

According to the Center for Constitutional Rights, between 1882 and 1968, mobs lynched 4,743 persons in the United States, over 70 percent of them African-Americans.

The “strange fruit” are the bodies of African Americans that were hanged during a lynching. The “pastoral scenes” is the beautiful landscape of the South, which is contrasted with the ugliness of burned African Americans.

Strange Fruit Southern trees bear a strange fruit Blood on the leaves and blood at the root Black body swinging in the southern breeze Strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees.

Pastoral scene of the gallant south The bulging eyes and the twisted mouth Scent of magnolia sweet and fresh And the sudden smell of burning flesh!

Here is fruit for the crows to pluck For the rain to gather, for the wind to suck For the sun to rot, for the trees to drop Here is a strange and bitter crop.

Text & music: Lewis Allan Copyright © Edward B. Marks Music Co Reprinted by permission of Warner/Chappell Music Scandinavia AB/Notfabriken Music Publishing AB

“Somebody once said we never know what is enough until we know what’s more than enough.”

BILLIE HOLIDAY

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HISTORY

Free Characters David A. Adler

achieve > v. carry out with success association > n. organization boycott > n. refuse to do something as a protest car pool > e. group of people travelling together in a car cherished > adj. memorable and respected congregation > n. group of religious people Coretta > n. Martin Luther King, Jr.’s wife Jim Crow > e. name given to laws that separated black and white people in trains, schools, buses, etc. leaflet > n. piece of paper with information non-violence > adj. peaceful, not using violence obey > v. do what you are told public school > e. elementary or secondary school in the United States supported by public funds, offering free education racial equality > e. people of all races having the same rights refuse > v. do not accept Supreme Court > e. the highest federal court in the United States unequal > adj. unfair because it treats people in different ways whites only’ section > e. separate part where only whites where allowed to stay

READ AT YOUR OWN LEVEL. CHOOSE BETWEEN: Basic Challenging Demanding (the whole text)

Martin Luther King, Jr., Free at Last The Civil Rights Movement fought for racial equality in the USA. Both blacks and whites took part in non-violent protests (demonstrations, speeches, etc.) to stop racial segregation. Read about two different freedom fighters who helped achieve equal rights for blacks – Rosa Parks and Martin Luther King, Jr. Martin Luther King, Jr. is a well known character of the Civil Rights Movement in America and his “I Have a Dream” speech is one of America’s most cherished speeches.

Montgomery Montgomery was the first capital of the Confederate states, the southern states that fought against the north in the Civil War. It is the capital of Alabama. There were plenty of Jim Crow laws in Montgomery, and there were plenty of police to make sure the laws were obeyed.

Martin and Coretta first went to Montgomery in 1954. Later that year the United States Supreme Court ruled that separate public schools for whites and blacks were unfair, unequal and from then on would be against the law.

That was the beginning of the end of old Jim Crow.

The next year, in December, a black woman named Rosa Parks was sitting in a Montgomery bus. She was sitting in the middle of the bus, just behind the ‘whites only’ section. At every stop people got on, blacks and whites.

Soon every seat was taken. The driver told Rosa and three other black riders to get up and move to the back so white people could sit. The three other riders gave up their seats. Rosa Parks refused. The driver pulled on the emergency brake and left the bus. He came back with a policeman. Rosa Parks was arrested.

The next morning Mr E.D. Nixon, a railroad worker and civil rights activist, called Dr. King. He asked if Dr. King would help organize a one-day boycott of the Montgomery buses. Blacks throughout the city would be asked to walk to work, ride by car, or take a taxi, but not to ride on a bus. The Kings’ first child, Yolanda, had just been born. It was a busy time for them. But Dr. King said he’d help.

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Martin’s friend, Reverend Ralph Abernathy, was on the boycott committee, too. Through the coming years they would be together on many committees working for the civil rights of blacks.

The one-day boycott was set for Monday December 5. On the Sunday before the boycott Dr. King and the ministers throughout the city spoke to their congregations and told them about Rosa Parks, and asked them not to ride the buses. Dr. King helped print and distribute thousands of leaflets.

At six o’clock Monday morning Coretta called, “Martin, come quickly!”

Martin put down his cup of coffee and ran to the living room window.

A bus was passing by. It was empty. Martin and Coretta waited. The next bus was empty. And the next bus, too. Throughout Montgomery blacks refused to ride the buses. That afternoon a name was given to the committee which organized the boycott. It was called the Montgomery Improvement Association, and a president was chosen, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. That evening Dr. King spoke in a church filled with people and to four thousand more standing outside. “There comes a time when people get tired of being kicked about,” he said.

The boycott would not end after just one day. It would go on until blacks were promised better treatment on the buses and until black bus drivers were hired. Car pools were organized. The churches bought station wagons to take people to and from work. Taxi drivers no longer carried just one person at a time. They carried groups of people throughout the city. Still, thousands of people had to walk.

Dr. King and others who had done nothing wrong were arrested. Many white people in Montgomery tried to break the boycott. They spread rumors that it had ended, that Dr. King used the association’s money to buy himself a Cadillac. It was all untrue.

Then one night, while Martin Luther King, Jr. was at a meeting, someone threw a bomb into his home. Dr. King was driven home. An angry crowd had gathered outside – police carrying guns and blacks carrying sticks, broken bottles and guns. Martin rushed past everyone to see if Coretta and his baby were safe. They were.

Read on

“Each person must live their life as a model for others.”

ROSA PARKS

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HISTORY

Free Characters Martin went outside and told the angry crowd, “If you have weapons, take them home. … We must meet violence with non-violence. …

We must love our white brothers. … We must meet hate with love.” He was preaching what he had learned from Mohandas Gandhi. He was preaching non-violence.

curse > v. insult angrily force > v. use physical power or violence gather > v. come together in a group injury > n. damage or harm to a person or thing join > e. take part mob > n. organized gang Mohandas Gandhi > n. major political and spiritual leader of India nearby > adj. close to overcome > v. conquer, defeat, overpower refuse > v. not be willing to accept something ride > v. here: drive in, go by rule > v. here: decide or declare significant > adj. important sit-in > n. demonstrators occupy seats and refuse to move stride > v. walk with long steps, not letting anything stop you strike > v. here: hit sneeze > v. sudden blow of air from the nose

READ AT YOUR OWN LEVEL. CHOOSE BETWEEN: Basic Challenging Demanding (the whole text)

Almost a year after Rosa Parks refused to give up her seat, the United States Supreme Court ruled that Jim Crow laws forcing blacks to get on buses through the back door and to give up their seats were against United States law. The boycott would soon end, but Dr. King knew that when blacks returned to the buses there might be trouble. “If cursed,” he warned, “do not curse back. If pushed, do not push back. If struck, do not strike back.”

At six o’clock in the morning, December 21, 1956, Dr. King got on a Montgomery bus. The white driver smiled and said, “We are glad to have you this morning.” Blacks riding buses no longer had to pay in the front and get in through the back. But there was still more to be done.

Dr. King wrote Stride Toward Freedom, a book about the Montgomery bus boycott. He traveled to talk about the book and to autograph it. He was in a New York City department store autographing when a black woman asked if he was Dr. King. “Yes,” he told her. The woman quickly took something from her purse, a letter opener with a long metal blade. And with it she stabbed Dr. King.

He was rushed to the hospital. It was a serious injury. The blade of the letter opener went close to his heart. Any quick movement, a cough or a sneeze, could have killed him. After the three-hour operation, Dr. King wasn’t angry at the woman who stabbed him. He asked that she should not be jailed. He wanted her to get help. She was examined by doctors and taken to a mental hospital.

Dr. King and other black leaders formed the Southern Christian Leadership Conference, the SCLC, to fight Jim Crow laws. Its offices were in Atlanta, Georgia. Dr. King was its president. Dr. King spoke all over the United States. He wanted unfair laws changed. He worked to get blacks to register and vote. He was kept busy traveling to the SCLC office in Atlanta and then back to his church in Montgomery.

Then, early in 1960, Dr. King left his position as pastor of the Dexter Avenue Baptist Church and returned to work in his father’s church in Atlanta as assistant pastor. By working as his father’s assistant, he would have more time for the SCLC, more time to work for the civil rights of blacks throughout the country.

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´

“The time is always right to do what is right.”

Martin Luther King, Jr.

Atlanta Throughout the South there were lunch counters where blacks were not allowed to sit. In Greensboro, North Carolina, in February, 1960, a few black students sat at one of those counters and asked to be served. The waiter refused. The students sat and waited. And they came back the next day to wait again. They were joined by other students, black and white.

Soon there were sit-ins at lunch counters throughout the South. Dr. King joined a sit-in at a lunch counter in Atlanta.

Then, in 1961, came the ‘Freedom Rides’. Black and white people rode buses through the South. They stopped to sit-in at ‘whites only’ lunch counters, to wait in ‘whites only’ waiting rooms of bus stations, and to use ‘whites only’ restrooms. The Freedom Rides were organized by the SCLC, along with other groups.

The first stops were peaceful, but the peace didn’t last. In Rock Hill, South Carolina, three Freedom Riders, one black and two whites, were punched, kicked and beaten. In Anniston, Alabama, an angry group of white men carrying wood clubs smashed the windows of one bus and threw a fire bomb inside. When the Freedom Riders ran out, they were beaten. In Montgomery, Alabama, a huge angry mob waited for the buses. There were reporters and photographers, but there were no police.

The Freedom Riders were beaten again. When the police did come, they wouldn’t arrest any of the attackers. They wouldn’t even call an ambulance to help the injured.

On the night of the Montgomery beatings, Dr. King was in a nearby church. As an angry white mob gathered outside, Dr. King spoke about freedom. And through the night the people in the church sang, “We shall overcome someday.” The next morning Attorney General Robert Kennedy sent United States soldiers to Montgomery to help the people leave the church without being hurt.

Read on

“We must learn to live together as brothers or perish together as fools.”

MARTIN LUTHER KING , JR .

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HISTORY

Free Characters

In 1963, Dr. King led a march for freedom in Birmingham, Alabama. Police turned powerful hoses and police dogs on the marchers. When young children marched, the police attacked them, too. Dr. King and thousands of others were jailed. But Jim Crow lost in Birmingham. For blacks and whites there would no longer be separate lunch counters, restrooms, and water fountains. And Birmingham businessmen would begin to hire blacks. act > n. written record, law attack > v. harm someone boycott > n. keep away from brotherhood > n. affection and loyalty between people content of character > e. personality equal pay > e. same pay, same amount of money gain > v. get, get better, improve garbage > n. rubbish join > v. come together judge > v. form an opinion about someone hose > n. hollow tube to lead water inside lead > n. guidance mourn > v. be very sad because someone is dead prejudice > n. unreasonable dislike of someone or something riot > n. protests and violence by a group of people

There were hundreds of other boycotts and marches for freedom.

On August 28, 1963, there was the biggest march of all, the March on Washington. Two hundred thousand people, blacks and whites, joined that march. It was a happy crowd, and Dr. King spoke to them from the steps of the Lincoln Memorial.

“I have a dream,” he said, “that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.”

“I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.”

“I have a dream today.”

In 1963, Dr. King was chosen Man of the Year by Time magazine. And in 1964, Dr. King won the Nobel Peace Prize, a great honor. He was the youngest winner of the prize. Along with the Nobel Prize came a large sum of money. Dr. King gave the money to charity, to groups working to gain for blacks equal rights in America.

READ AT YOUR OWN LEVEL. CHOOSE BETWEEN:

Dr. King led a protest in Selma, Alabama, and then a fifty-mile march of blacks and whites from Selma to Montgomery so that blacks would be allowed to register and vote.

Basic Challenging Demanding (the whole text)

Dr. King met with Presidents Eisenhower, Kennedy and Johnson. President Johnson helped push civil rights acts and the Voting Rights Act of 1965

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through Congress. ‘Whites only’ signs were against the law now. Blacks were guaranteed their rights in schools, factories, department stores, restaurants, hotels, movie theatres, playgrounds and in voting booths.

Dr. King preached love and nonviolence. But there was violence. Freedom workers, blacks and whites, were beaten and killed. And there were riots.

In the 1960’s, blacks were smashing, burning, and robbing the cities they lived in. The movement for blacks’ rights and freedom was no longer following Martin Luther King’s peaceful lead.

In 1966, Dr. King, his family, and the SCLC moved up North, but there was poverty.

Dr. King planned a march of poor blacks, whites, Indians, Mexicans, and Puerto Ricans – a Poor People’s March on Washington. In April, 1968, a few days before the march, Dr. King went to Memphis, Tennessee. He stood on the balcony of his motel on the evening of April 4. The next day he would protest with garbage workers for equal pay for blacks and whites.

But while Dr. King stood on that balcony, another man, James Earl Ray, stood in an empty bathtub in a house across from the motel. The window above the tub was open. The man pointed a rifle at Dr. King. He fired the gun. Martin Luther King, Jr. was dead.

Martin Luther King, Jr. had a dream. He dreamed of a world free of hate, free of prejudice, free of violence. The marker on his grave reads, “I’m free at last.”

Martin Luther King, Jr. was just thirty-nine years old when he died.

He was mourned by his wife, his four children and by millions of other people, blacks and whites. He was a remarkable man, a champion of his people. He brought needed change to his country. And in the United States, on the third Monday of every January, his country celebrates the anniversary of his birth.

Copyright © 1986 by David A. Adler. All rights reserved.

Reprinted from MARTIN LUTHER KING, JR: Free at Last by permission of Holiday House, Inc.

“I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character.”

MARTIN LUTHER KING , JR .

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TIMELINE

Free Characters

The Atlantic Slave Trade abolish > v. end, stop amendment > n. change to a law by force > e. be compelled capture > v. take prisoner cargo ship > n. boat transporting goods Civil Rights Movement > e. the movement for equal rights between races in the USA in the 1960s equal rights > e. having the same privileges escape route > e. travel to a safe place mutiny > n. refuse to follow orders rebel > n. person who fights against a system rely on > e. depend on riot > n. violent behaviour segregation > n. here: keep people of different races apart slavery > n. system that allows people to own other humans and use them for labour stale > adj. not fresh unpaid labour > e. work that is not paid for US citizen > e. person born in the US or person who has been given US nationality

How did people from Africa end up as slaves in the USA? Here are some questions and answers about the Atlantic Slave Trade and the slaves’ fight for freedom.

What was the Atlantic Slave Trade?

African slaves were brought across the Atlantic Ocean. It is also known as the ‘Triangular Trade’, connecting Africa, the New World colonies, and Europe. The first Africans arrived in North America in 1619.

(1) Goods from Europe were shipped to Africa and traded for slaves. (2)The slaves were carried to America and sold at slave markets for money or goods like sugar and tobacco. (3) The traders transported the goods to Europe and traded them for more goods that they would bring to Africa.

How did the traders get the slaves?

Sometimes the African slaves were sold to the slave-traders by their own kings or sometimes they were captured by the traders. The slaves were taken from their homes and brought aboard the slave ships by force.

How did the slaves travel?

They were brought on board large cargo ships. One ship could stow 292 slaves. 130 of these were stowed under the shelves and 130 more round the wings or sides of the lower deck, on the shelves and below them. They couldn’t stand up, the air was hot and stale with body smells and sometimes as much as half of the slaves in a ship died during the passage.

How were the slaves sold in America?

Slaves were bought and sold at slave markets. It was big business. A slave could cost $25 in Africa and be sold in America for $150. Men were separated from their wives, and children were often taken from their mothers.

Most of the slaves went to the plantations of the South as unpaid labour.

READ AT YOUR OWN LEVEL. CHOOSE BETWEEN: Basic Challenging Demanding (the whole text)

16 0 7 British colony

1619-

1865

Slave trades with America

1663

1839-1842

1783 dent

First slave riot

n ndepe USA i nation

Amistad case

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Did the slaves ever riot?

Yes, they did. There were many riots. In 1839 there was a mutiny aboard the slave ship ‘Amistad’. Slaves took over the ship and tried to return to Africa. They let it wander off the American coast for two months. President Adams argued that all men have the right to be free, and the rebels could return to Africa in 1842.

What was the Underground Railroad?

It was an escape route for slaves from the South to Canada and freedom. It started with the slave Harriet Tubman who escaped in 1849.

She returned to the South nineteen times and helped more than three hundred slaves escape. It meant travel by night and long journeys as well as hunger, disguises and escapes from slave hunters. The Underground Railroad spread across the USA.

“We may have all come on different ships,but we’re in the same boat now.”

MARTIN LUTHER KING , JR

Was slavery one of the reasons for the Civil War? Yes, it was one of the main reasons. Abraham Lincoln and the North wanted to end slavery, but the plantation owners in the South relied on slavery and didn’t want to give it up. This eventually led to the Civil War, and the victory of the North over the South in 1865 did lead to the end of slavery. This was written down in the 13th Amendment to the US Constitution.

Did the slaves stay free and get equal rights?

Well, not quite. Slavery was abolished, but it took some years before they all were set free. However, in 1868 they were recognized as US citizens – in the 14th Amendment. Still, a hundred years later there was segregation with ‘whites only’ areas in the USA. This sparked off the Civil Rights Movement in the 1950s and 60s, with famous voices like Martin Luther King and Rosa Parks fighting segregation and struggling for equal rights for blacks.

1849 bman Harriet Tuav ery escapes sl

1866 5 6 8 1 1 186

Underg

ad round railro

Klan Ku Klux d e form

Civil War es free: Slav ent 13th amendm

1868 Former slaves are citizens: 14th amendment

1964 -1968 Civil Rights Movement fight for equal rights for blacks

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FACTS

Free Characters Kolumnetittel James Gregory

Goodbye Bafana assign > v. give censor > v. examine and cut out unacceptable parts concrete > n. building material made of cement, sand, stones and water contempt > n. strong dislike, no respect cramped > adj. narrow and uncomfortable duty > n. work enticing > adj. extremely attractive gesture > v. use the hands or the head to express emotion or to give information graze > v. scrape against in agreement > e. with a common plan kaffir > n. black African (used degrading) life imprisonment > e. sentenced to stay in prison for the rest of the life life sentence > e. the punishment will be to stay in prison for the rest of the life political prisoner > e. someone imprisoned because of disagreement with their government rays of the sun > e. beams of light from the sun Robben Island > e. prison off the coast of South Africa (1961– 1991 political prisoners) surrounded by > e. situated all around treacherous > adj. dangerous turmoil > n. disorder warder > n. prison guard

READ AT YOUR OWN LEVEL. CHOOSE BETWEEN: Basic Challenging Demanding (the whole text)

In 1964, Nelson Mandela was sentenced to life imprisonment. He was sent to Robben Island off Cape Town, a prison on a flat, rocky island swept by the wind and surrounded by the rough sea.

“I was assigned a cell at the head of the corridor. It overlooked the courtyard and had a small eye-level window. I could walk the length of my cell in three paces. When I lay down, I could feel the wall with my feet and my head grazed the concrete at the other side. The width was about six feet, and the walls were at least two feet thick. Each cell had a white card posted outside of it with our name and our prison service number. Mine read, “N Mandela 466/64,” which meant I was the 466th prisoner admitted to the island in 1964. I was forty-six years old, a political prisoner with a life sentence, and that small cramped space was to be my home for I knew not how long.”

Nelson Mandela, “The Road to Freedom” Many years ago James Gregory, a young South African warder, got a job at the prison on Robben Island. He describes his first day on the island.

I see you What on earth had I let myself into? They had warned me that this was the worst place to come to. I should have known better, should have known not to trust these people who wanted me to look after the main man, the one they called the Black Pimpernel.

I knew he and his kind were just animals who didn’t really care anyway.

Maybe they were worse than that. They didn’t even deserve to be here. They deserved to be left swinging from the end of a rope for a few days in the high noon heat of the Great Karoo desert.

This was the bastard who was responsible for the turmoil dividing my country. He was the one who had turned the world against us.

As I sat on the low wall outside the front gates, waiting for the guards to open up, the first rays of the sun began to reflect off the mainland hills.

How enticing they must seem to these prisoners! So close, yet so far away.

Separated by just five miles or so, but by treacherous waters. I knew that, in all its history, no man had ever escaped. It was sweet irony that they could see the mainland, see the perfect beaches, and they would never touch them. That was a punishment in itself, to have this view, but never get to be part of it.

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“So you’re Gregory?”

The voice startled me. I looked up at an ox of a man. This was T. G. Smit, the warder in charge.

“So you’re the new guy who’s looking after the political prisoners?

Just remember who they are and what they will do to you, eh? You have a wife and family, eh?”

I nodded.

“Okay man, remember what these kaffir bastards will do to them if you give them a chance. They love white meat. Don’t give them a chance, just do your duty.”

I nodded again.

“Right, Gregory, let’s go meet the kaffirs,” Smit said.

My man stood in the corner of the yard, his back turned to me, talking to a smaller, older man. Beside them two more men stood listening, nodding their heads in agreement. Even from the rear, I could recognise him. Smit waved his long arms and yelled out his introduction: “Right, here he is, your new censor officer.”

He turned round, his eyes fixing me firmly. Every eye in the yard was on me, the forty or so pairs of eyes of these prisoners, terrorists and killers, but I could not take my eyes from the main man.

“Come man,” Smit said. “Come meet him. I see you have picked him out.”

He gestured toward the man, standing there in his prison green shirt, shorts and sandals.

“Gregory,” Smit said and looked at the man with contempt. “This here is Nelson Mandela.”

The prisoner’s voice was as firm and direct as his eyes.

“Good morning,” he said. “Welcome to Robben Island.”

My reply was unusual.

“Good morning,” I replied. “I see you.” It was a phrase I’d learned as a child, a greeting of friendship. Immediately I caught myself, wondering what the hell I was doing, using it for the first time since my childhood.

Epilogue In prison Nelson Mandela helped to educate and train young prisoners to continue the fight for freedom when they were released. The government put a stop to this by moving him to another prison, Pollsmoor, in 1982.

He stayed there until he was released from prison in 1990. Bafana means ‘best friend boy’ in Xhosa, an African language.

© James Gregory GOODBYE BAFANA Headline Book Publishing

“It always seems impossible until it’s done.”

NELSON MANDELA

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FICTION

Free Characters Nadine Gordimer

Afrikaner > n. white person in South Africa who is a descendant of Dutch settlers and who speaks Afrikaans apartheid > n. a policy of segregation on grounds of race in South Africa. From Africaans meaning ‘apartness’. bakkie > n. an open van or light truck with a cabin domestic > adj. found at home cab > n. compartment of a motor vehicle where the driver sits callously > adv. hard, with no feelings farmer’s boy > e. boy servant at a farm fatal game > e. deadly play high excitement > e. feeling of lively and cheerful joy inquiry > n. questioning, investigation kudu > n. spiral-horned antelope of the African bush mishap > n. unfortunate accident, bad luck negligence > n. being careless security commando > e. organized force of Boer troops in South Africa topple > v. become unsteady and fall over thud > n. dull sound

READ AT YOUR OWN LEVEL. CHOOSE BETWEEN: Basic Challenging Demanding (the whole text)

The moment before the gun went off Nadine Gordimer (b. 1923) is a white South African author. She won the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1991. Nadine Gordimer’s writing has been very important in the fight against apartheid. Apartheid was the policy in South Africa from 1948 to 1990 – where whites and blacks should be separate from each other.

The whites were few and rich, the blacks were many and poor and the white man ruled.

In these excerpts from the short story “The moment before the gun went off ” you can read about a white South African farmer and his relationship to a black farm boy.

Marais Van der Vyver shot one of his farm labourers, dead. An accident, there are accidents with guns every day of the week – children playing a fatal game with a father’s revolver in the cities where guns are domestic objects, nowadays, hunting mishaps like this one, in the country – but these won’t be reported all over the world. Van der Vyver knows his will be.

He knows that the story of the Afrikaner farmer – regional Party leader and Commandant of the local security commando – shooting a black man who worked for him will fit exactly their version of South Africa, it’s made for them.

(Later in the story…)

There will be an inquiry; there had better be, to stop the assumption of yet another case of brutality against farm workers, although there’s nothing in doubt – an accident, and all the facts fully admitted by Van der Vyver. He made a statement when he arrived at the police station with the dead man in his bakkie. Captain Beetge knows him well, of course; he gave him brandy. He was shaking, this big, calm, clever son of Willem Van der Vyver, who inherited the old man’s best farm. The black was stone dead,

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“The facts are always less than what really happened.”

NADINE GORDIMER

nothing to be done for him. Beetge will not tell anyone that after the brandy Van der Vyver wept. He sobbed, snot running onto his hands, like a dirty kid. The Captain was ashamed, for him, and walked out to give him a chance to recover himself.

(Later in the story, retrospective…)

The moment before the gun went off was a moment of high excitement shared through the roof of the cab, as the bullet was to pass, between the young black man outside and the white farmer inside the vehicle. There were such moments, without explanation, between them, although often around the farm the farmer would pass the young man without returning a greeting, as if he did not recognize him. When the bullet went off what Van der Vyver saw was the kudu stumble in fright at the report and gallop away. Then he heard the thud behind him, and past the window saw the young man fall out of the vehicle. He was sure he had leapt up and toppled – in fright, like the buck. The farmer was almost laughing with relief, ready to tease, as he opened his door, it did not seem possible that a bullet passing through the roof could have done harm.

The young man did not laugh with him at his own fright. The farmer carried him in his arms, to the truck. He was sure, sure he could not be dead. But the young black man’s blood was all over the farmer’s clothes, soaking against his flesh as he drove.

How will they ever know, when they file newspaper clippings, evidence, proof, when they look at the photographs and see his face – guilty! guilty! they are right! – how will they know, when the police stations burn with all the evidence of what has happened now, and what the law made a crime in the past. How could they know that they do not know. Anything.

The young black callously shot through the negligence of the white man was not the farmer’s boy; he was his son. © Nadine Gordimer From JUMP AND OTHER STORIES Published by Bloombury Publishing Plc 2003. Reprinted by permission

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TIMELINE

Free Characters

The Rise of a Nation abolish > v. end, stop Afrikaans > n. one of the official languages of South Africa apartheid > n. policy of keeping separate races apart, from Africaans meaning ‘apartness’ commission > n. group of people ruling, like a court of law committed by > e. done by democracy > n. country in which the people choose their government by voting for it equal > n. everyone has or should have the same rights and opportunities government > n. the group of people that leads a country investigate > v. examine evidence to find the truth landslide victory > e. great victory; overwhelming majority of votes majority > n. here: more than half of the voters, most people mixed marriage > e. marriage between people of different races negotiation > n. discussions to reach an agreement riot > n. crowd of people behaving violently in a public place union > n. here: state

READ AT YOUR OWN LEVEL. CHOOSE BETWEEN: Basic Challenging Demanding (the whole text)

Here are some questions and answers on the history of South Africa; about languages and the fight for freedom and equal rights.

Why do people in South Africa speak Afrikaans, a dialect of Dutch?

Well, before the Suez Canal was built, European ships sailing to and from India and the Far East had to round the south-west point of Africa, the Cape of Good Hope. In 1652, the Dutch founded today’s Cape Town.

Farmers arrived from the Netherlands. They grew fruits and vegetables there. The ships’ crews could get food and fresh water for their voyages.

The Dutch began to expand, claiming more land.

But why do South Africans speak English too?

In 1795, the British occupied the Cape, turning it into a colony. Farmers were shipped in from Britain, and English was declared the official language. The British abolished slavery, but the Boers, as the Dutch settlers called themselves, didn’t like this. So they moved inland and up north.

It was not until 1910 that the Union of South Africa was formed.

What about the blacks? Weren’t they, just like today, in the majority?

True, but they had no part in the negotiations to form the union, no democratic rights at all. So they formed their own organisation in 1912, the African National Congress (ANC). They tried to convince the government that they should be treated as equals. But instead the situation got worse.

What was apartheid?

In 1948, the government created the apartheid system: black people were not allowed to visit beaches or public buildings like libraries, etc. Even the benches in the parks had signs, saying ‘Whites only’! Wherever black people went, they had to show their identity documents. They couldn’t work where they wanted to and they couldn’t own land. Black children weren’t allowed in white schools and mixed marriages were forbidden.

1 6 52 Dutch settlers

1795 British colony

1910 1912 South Africa free nation

ANC formed

1948 heid Apart uced d o r t in

1960 1964 Sharpville Mandela life riots imprisonmen t

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The blacks protested of course – mostly through the ANC – and in the riots in Sharpeville in 1960, 69 blacks were killed and over 180 injured.

Later, the ANC was banned and its leader, Nelson Mandela, was put in prison. In 1964 he was sentenced to life imprisonment for fighting the apartheid government.

The 1960s and 70s stand out as a very dark period in South African history. In Soweto in 1976 school children stopped going to schools because the government forced them to use Afrikaans, the language of the white Boers, in schools. They organised a peaceful protest walking through the streets, singing, chanting and dancing. Still, the police used tear gas and fired shots at them. More than 500 people died and over a thousand were wounded.

When did South Africa finally become a democracy?

It wasn’t until the new president, F.W. de Klerk, lifted the ban on the ANC in 1990, that Nelson Mandela was released – after 27 years in prison. Then things happened quickly. Laws that supported apartheid were changed and apartheid ended. During the elections of 1994, the first elections ever where blacks were allowed to vote, the ANC won a landslide victory, and Nelson Mandela became president. The ‘new’ Republic of South Africa was born.

What was the Truth and Reconciliation Commission?

In 1995 a commission was set up to investigate the wrongs of the past and acts committed by the Apartheid Government and liberation forces like the ANC. “We are also deeply grateful to the thousands of South Africans who came to the Commission to tell us their stories,” Archbishop Desmond Tutu, the chairmain of TRC, said when the commission was over.

Has South Africa stayed a democracy?

The black people’s voices are still heard. In 1999, South Africa held its second democratic election and the ANC won again. Nelson Mandela stepped down and Thabo Mbeki became president. In 2004 South Africa’s third democratic election went off peacefully, with Thabo Mbeki and the ANC again returning to power.

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© Bonnier 1998, 995-1998 199 1 4 9 9 1 9&2004adapted 1990 1993

s Soweto riot ANC legal Mandela free End of apar

Mandela & de Klerk: Nobel Peace ize theid Pr

ANC won election Mandela first black president

The Truth and Reconciliation Commission

ANC won elections Mbeki second black president

“I detest racialism, because I regard it as a barbaric thing, whether it comes from a black man or a white man.”

NELSON MANDELA

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INTRO

Between the Lines

CHAPTER 3

Between the Lines

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“Fiction is like a spider’s web, attached ever so slightly perhaps, but still attached to life at all four corners.”

Virginia Woolf

The joy of reading is to discover things you like in a text – characters you enjoy, funny words, situations that make you cry of sadness or scream with delight.

To read between the lines means to understand something in a text which is not actually stated – to read what is hinted at but not expressed on the surface, to detect the real meaning in a text.

Enjoy classic and modern stories – funny, fabulous, fantastic, frightful and emotional texts. Enjoy reading between the lines!

Some useful words about Between the Lines attach > v. connect classic > adj. well-known and of a high literary standard detect > v. notice emotional > adj. related to feelings fiction > n. stories hint at > e. indirect suggestion on the surface > e. what you see at first sight slightly > adv. barely spider's web > e. fine greasy net made by the spider to fetch flies state > v. say, write

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TEXT 1

Between Kolumnetittel the Lines

Voices in Literature Decide how you can enjoy reading! What kind of stories do you like? Do you prefer mysteries or something romantic? Do you prefer novels, short stories or poetry?

The author may be important to you – or your mood when you start reading.

Whatever your reason is, when you're reading for yourself, read stories that cause you to think, dream and use your imagination!

Oscar Wilde (1854–1900)

Ray Bradbury (b. 1922)

Oscar Wilde was an Irish poet and dramatist – famous for the quick wit and humour in his writing.

His stories make you feel that there is something more – something that is not quite expressed, something underneath the surface. He is famous for the play The Importance of Being Earnest (1895), his novel The Picture of Dorian Gray (1891) and his tale The Happy Prince (1888).

Ray Bradbury is an American literary icon. He is famous for writing short stories, essays, plays, screen plays and poetry. His short stories are within the genres fantasy and science fiction.

He believes that ‘science fiction is the art of the possible. Fantasy is the art of the impossible.’

His stories are hard to forget – they make you wonder whether the things he writes about really could have happened or whether it is pure fantasy.

Virginia Woolf (1882–1941) Virginia Woolf was a British author – famous for the way she described the thoughts and emotions of her characters. When you read one of her stories, you really get to know what the characters think about other characters and about the things that happen in the story.

Her main characters are usually women and her stories are set in English cities, towns or villages. She is famous for her novels Mrs Dalloway (1925), To the Lighthouse (1927) and Orlando (1928) and for her story The Widow and the Parrot (1922/23). In 2002 there was made a film about her – called The Hours.

Watch it to learn more about her and her stories.

“There is more treasure in books than in all the pirate’s loot on Treasure Island.”

Walt Disney

CHAPTER 3

Barbara Florio Graham (b. 1934)

Vikram Seth (b. 1952)

Barbara Florio Graham is a Canadian American author who has written three books and contributed to more than 30 anthologies of fiction, non-fiction, humor and poetry. She writes stories that make you think.

Vikram Seth is an Indian poet, novelist and children's writer.

His stories are exotic, set in faraway places.

His fables are set in India, China, Greece and Ukraine and his novels are set in India, Europe (London, Vienna and Venice) and the USA (California). The settings are important in his stories – but most of all, Vikram Seth wants to give you a good read.

Jan Mark (1943–2006) Jan (Janet) Mark was a British author of novels and short stories and one of the leading children’s writers of the day. She won Britain's foremost children's literary award, the Carnegie Medal, twice. Jan Mark has said that she preferred writing short stories – particularly stories with dialogues between her characters and with observations of people.

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READ AT YOUR OWN LEVEL. CHOOSE BETWEEN: imagination > n. fantasy emotion > n. feeling fable > n. traditional story with a moral literary icon > e. author who has become an important model (icon) for people because of the way he or she writes loot > n. stolen money or goods non-fiction > n. texts about real events prefer > v. want more than other things setting > n. time and place in a text underneath the surface > e. hidden meaning

Basic Challenging Demanding (the whole text)

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TEXT 2

Between the Lines

Virginia Woolf

The Widow and the Parrot The story is set in the 1870s in the English village of Rodmell, south of London. This is the place where Virginia Woolf lived.

She wrote the story for her young nephews’ family newspaper in 1922/23, but it was put away for sixty years before it was rediscovered.

Virginia Woolf (1882–1941) was an English author of novels, short stories and essays. She was a feminist and a modernist – writing about women’s rights in Britain in the first half of the 20th century.

Some fifty years ago Mrs Gage, en elderly widow, was sitting in her cottage in a village called Spilsby in Yorkshire. Although lame, and rather short sighted she was doing her best to mend a pair of clogs, for she had only a few shillings a week to live on. As she hammered at the clog, the postman opened the door and threw a letter into her lap.

It bore the address ‘Messrs Stagg and Beetle, 67 High Street, Lewes, Sussex,’ Mrs Gage opened it and read: ‘Dear Madam; We have the honour to inform you of the death of your brother Mr Joseph Brand.’

‘Lawk a mussy,’ said Mrs Gage. ‘Old brother Joseph gone at last!’

‘He has left you his entire property,’ the letter went on, ‘which consists of a dwelling house, stable, cucumber frames, mangles, wheelbarrows &c &c in the village of Rodmell, near Lewes. He also bequeaths to you his entire fortune; Viz: £3,000 (three thousand pounds) sterling.’

Mrs Gage almost fell into the fire with joy. She had not seen her brother for many years, and, as he did not even acknowledge the Christmas card which she sent him every year, she thought that his miserly habits, well known to her from her childhood, made him grudge even a penny stamp for a reply. But now it had all turned out to her advantage. With three thousand pounds, to say nothing of house &c &c, she could live in great luxury for ever.

She determined that she must visit Rodmell at once.

The village clergyman, the Rev Samuel Tallboys, lent her two pounds ten, to pay her fare, and by next day all preparations for her journey were complete. The most important of these was the care of her dog Shag during her absence, for in spite of her poverty she was devoted to animals, and often went short herself rather than stint her dog of his bone.

CHAPTER 3

She reached Lewes late on a Tuesday night in November. In those days, I must tell you, there was no bridge over the river at Southease, nor had the road to Newhaven yet been made. To reach Rodmell it was necessary to cross the river Ouse by a ford, traces of which still exist, but this could only be attempted at a low tide, when the stones on the river bed appeared above the water. Mr Stacey, the farmer, was going to Rodmell in his cart, and he kindly offered to take Mrs Gage with him. They reached Rodmell about nine o’clock at night and Mr Stacey obligingly pointed out to Mrs Gage the house at the end of the village which had been left her by her brother.

Mrs Gage knocked at the door. There was no answer. She knocked again.

A very strange high voice shrieked out ‘Not at home.’ She was so much taken aback that if she had not heard footsteps coming she would have run away.

However the door was opened by an old village woman, by name Mrs Ford.

‘Who was that shrieking out “Not at home”?’ said Mrs Gage.

‘Drat the bird!’ said Mrs Ford very peevishly, pointing to a large grey parrot. ‘He almost screams my head off. There he sits all day humped up on his perch like a monument screeching “Not at home“ if ever you go near him.’ He was a very handsome bird, as Mrs Gage could see; but his feathers were sadly neglected. ‘Perhaps he is unhappy, or he may be hungry,’ she said. But Mrs Ford said it was temper merely; he was a seaman’s parrot and had learnt his language in the east. However, she added, Mr Joseph was very fond of him, had called him James; and, it was said, talked to him as if he were a rational being. Mrs Ford soon left. Mrs Gage at once went to her box and fetched some sugar which she had with her and offered it to the parrot, saying in a very kind tone that she meant him no harm, but was his old master’s sister, come to take possession of the house, and she would see to it that he was as happy as a bird could be.

Taking the lantern she next went round the house to see what sort of property her brother had left her. It was a bitter disappointment. There were holes in all the carpets. The bottoms of the chairs had fallen out. Rats ran along the mantelpiece. There were large toadstools growing through the kitchen floor. There was not a stick of furniture worth seven pence halfpenny; and Mrs Gage only cheered herself by thinking of the three thousand pounds that lay safe and snug in Lewes Bank.

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From THE WIDOW AND THE PARROT by Virginia Woolf, published by Hogarth Press Reprinted by permission of The Random House Group Ltd.

To be continued in Track Fiction!

READ AT YOUR OWN LEVEL. CHOOSE BETWEEN:

acknowledge > v. here: respond to advantage > n. profit bequeath > v. leave, give determine > v. decide grudge > v. not want to spend

'Lawk a mussy' > e. 'Lord have mercy' miserly habits > adj: mean, hate to spend money obligingly > adv. do someone a favour pair of clogs > v. two heavy shoes or sandals with a wooden sole stint > v. restrict

Basic Challenging Demanding (the whole text)

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Between the Lines

APPETIZERS

The Widow and the Parrot (Continued from Text 2) Poor old Mrs Gage inherits a house and £3000 from her brother, but when she arrives to claim the inheritance, she finds a ruin of a house, no money and a rude parrot. Read Virginia Woolf ’s story to find out what has happened…

FICTION

PAGE 64

LONG READ

The Lake Ray Bradbury has written a story that is not easy to forget. When Tally was ten, she swam out into the lake and never came back. Harold loved her so much and would never ever forget her.

Years later, he returns to the beach. The lifeguard steps ashore with something in his arms…

FICTION

PAGE 70

5

The Happy Prince In this story, Oscar Wilde seems to ask us what’s important in life. Read about the Happy Prince and the Swallow and listen to their discussions about money, poverty, happiness and fame.

PAGE 72 FICTION

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CHAPTER 3

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A Christmas Story Bombs are exploding in the distance. The house is in ruins and the little girl is crying. Where did her father go and why won’t her mother wake up?

Let Barbara Florio Graham’s story show you that war isn’t always about belonging to different sides…

PAGE 74 HISTORY

Feet Michael Collier is every girl’s dream and the school’s best tennis player. He seems to take surprising interest in the shy Jane, or does he really? Jane will umpire the final of the tournament which Michael is sure of winning.

Read Jan Mark’s story about what it takes to be a winner.

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TIMELINE

SPORT

Beastly Tales Vikram Seth has written a tale about a king, a louse and a mosquito – or is it about power, India and the British Empire? Read to find out!

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Between the Lines Virginia Woolf

The Widow and the Parrot

bank > e. here: side of the river considerable > adj. great, large dilapidated > adj. old and bad disagreeable > adj. unpleasant empty handed > adj. without anything expenses > n. charges, cost fare > n. cost of a ticket in a jiffi > e. in a hurry in spite of > e. despite misery varmint > e. unpleasant and irritating person premises > n. here: house solemn > adj. serious solicitor > n. lawyer trudge > v. walk with slow and heavy steps utmost care > e. very carefully whatever he will fetch > e. as much money as you can get for him

READ AT YOUR OWN LEVEL. CHOOSE BETWEEN: Basic Challenging Demanding (the whole text)

Poor old Mrs Gage inherits a house and £3000 from her brother, but when she arrives to claim the inheritance, she finds a ruin of a house and a rude parrot. In the story there is a reference to Monk’s House in Rodmell and to Asheham House in Lewes, “lately the seat of Mr Leonard Woolf.” He was Virginia Woolf ’s husband, and they both lived at Asheham House from 1911 and at Monk’s House from 1919.

Both houses are in Sussex, south of London.

(Continued from Text 2) She determined to set off to Lewes next day in order to claim her money from Messrs Stagg and Beetle the solicitors, and then to return home as quick as she could.

Mr Stacey, who was going to market with some fine Berkshire pigs, again offered to take her with him, and as they drove he told her some terrible stories of young people who had been drowned through trying to cross the river at high tide. A great disappointment was in store for the poor old woman directly she got in to Mr Stagg’s office.

‘Pray take a seat, Madam,’ he said, looking very solemn and grunting slightly. ‘The fact is,’ he went on, ‘that you must prepare to face some very disagreeable news. Since I wrote to you I have gone carefully through Mr Brand’s papers. I regret to say that I can find no trace whatever of the three thousand pounds.

Mr Beetle, my partner, went himself to Rodmell and searched the premises with the utmost care. He could find absolutely nothing – no gold, silver, or valuables of any kind – except a fine grey parrot which I advise you to sell for whatever he will fetch. His language, Benjamin Beetle said, is very extreme.

But that is neither here nor there. I much fear you have had your journey for nothing. The premises are dilapidated; and of course our expenses are considerable.’ Here he stopped, and Mrs Gage well knew that he wished her

TRACKS

to go. She was almost crazy with disappointment. Not only had she borrowed two pound ten from the Rev Samuel Tallboys, but she would return home absolutely empty handed, for the parrot James would have to be sold to pay her fare. It was raining hard, but Mr Stagg did not press her to stay, and she was too beside herself with sorrow to care what she did. In spite of the rain she started to walk back to Rodmell across the meadows.

Mrs Gage, as I have already said, was lame in her right leg. At the best of times she walked slowly, and now, what with her disappointment and the mud on the bank her progress was very slow indeed. As she plodded along, the day grew darker and darker, until it was as much as she could do to keep on the raised path by the river side.

You might have heard her grumbling as she walked, and complaining of her crafty brother Joseph, who had put her to all this trouble ‘Express,’ she said, ‘to plague me. He was always a cruel little boy when we were children,’ she went on. ‘He liked worrying the poor insects, and I’ve known him trim a hairy caterpillar with a pair of scissors before my very eyes. He was such a misery varmint too. He used to hide his pocket money in a tree, and if anyone gave him a piece of iced cake for tea, he cut the sugar off and kept it for his supper. I make no doubt he’s all aflame at this very moment in Hell fire, but what’s the comfort of all this to me?’ she asked, and indeed it was very little comfort, for she ran slap into a great cow which was coming along the bank, and rolled over and over in the mud.

She picked herself up as best she could and trudged on again. It seemed to her that she had been walking for hours. It was now pitch dark and she could scarcely see her own hand before her nose. Suddenly she bethought her of Farmer Stacey’s words about the ford. ‘Lawk a mussy,’ she said, ‘however shall I find my way across? If the tide’s in, I shall step into deep water and be swept out to sea in a jiffy! Many’s the couple that been drowned here; to say nothing of horses, carts, herds of cattle, and stacks of hay.’

Indeed with the dark and the mud she had got herself into a pretty pickle. She could hardly see the river itself, let alone tell whether she had reached the ford or not. No lights were visible anywhere, for, as you may be aware, there is no cottage or house on that side of the river nearer than Asheham House, lately the seat of Mr Leonard Woolf. It seemed that

Read on

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blazing to cinders > e. burning down capering > v. jump playfully crazed > adj. go insane extinguish > v. stop burning hazard > v. risk monstrosity > n. something large and frightful mourn > v. be very sad rouse > v. awake start > v. move the body suddenly, jump up suffocate > v. can’t breath window ledge > e. narrow shelf under a window

READ AT YOUR OWN LEVEL. CHOOSE BETWEEN: Basic Challenging & Demanding (the whole text)

Between the Lines

there was nothing for it but to sit down and wait for the morning. But at her age, with the rheumatics in her system, she might well die of cold. On the other hand, if she tried to cross the river it was almost certain that she would be drowned. So miserable was her state that she would gladly have changed places with one of the cows in the field. No more wretched old woman could have been found in the whole county of Sussex; standing on the river bank, not knowing whether to sit or to swim, or merely to roll over in the grass, wet though it was, and sleep or freeze to death, as her fate decided.

At that moment a wonderful thing happened. An enormous light shot up into the sky, like a gigantic torch, lighting up every blade of grass, and showing her the ford not twenty yards away. It was low tide, and the crossing would be an easy matter if only the light did not go out before she had got over.

‘It must be a comet or some such wonderful monstrosity,’ she said as she hobbled across. She could see the village of Rodmell brilliantly lit up in front of her.

‘Bless us and save us!’ she cried out. ‘There’s a house on fire – thanksbe to the Lord,’ – for she reckoned that it would take some minutes at least to burn a house down, and in that time she would be well on her way to the village.

‘It’s an ill wind that blows nobody any good,’ she said as she hobbled along the Roman road. Sure enough, she could see every inch of the way, and was almost in the village street when for the first time it struck her, ‘Perhaps it’s my own house that’s blazing to cinders before my eyes!’

She was perfectly right.

A small boy in his nightgown came capering up to her and cried out, ‘Come and see old Joseph Brand’s house ablaze!’

All the villagers were standing in a ring round the house handing buckets of water which were filled from the well in Monks House kitchen, and throwing them on the flames. But the fire had got a strong hold, and just as Mrs Gage arrived, the roof fell in.

‘Has anybody saved the parrot?’ she cried.

‘Be thankful you’re not inside yourself, Madam,’ said the Rev James Hawkesford, the clergyman. ‘Do not worry for the dumb creatures. I make no doubt the parrot was mercifully suffocated on his perch.’

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But Mrs Gage was determined to see for herself. She had to be held back by the village people, who remarked that she must be crazy to hazard her life for a bird.

‘Poor old woman,’ said Mrs Ford, ‘she has lost all her property, save one old wooden box, with her night things in it. No doubt we should be crazed in her place too.’

So saying, Mrs Ford took Mrs Gage by the hand and led her off to her own cottage, where she was to sleep the night. The fire was now extinguished, and everybody went home to bed.

But poor Mrs Gage could not sleep. She tossed and tumbled thinking of her miserable state, and wondering how she could get back to Yorkshire and pay the Rev Samuel Tallboys the money she owed him.

At the same time she was even more grieved to think of the fate of the poor parrot James. She had taken a liking to the bird, and thought that he must have an affectionate heart to mourn so deeply for the death of old Joseph Brand, who had never done a kindness to any human creature. It was a terrible death for an innocent bird, she thought; and if only she had been in time, she would have risked her own life to save his.

She was lying in bed thinking these thoughts when a slight tap at the window made her start. The tap was repeated three times over. Mrs Gage got out of bed as quickly as she could and went to the window. There, to her utmost surprise, sitting on the window ledge was an enormous bird.

The rain had stopped and it was a fine moonlight night. She was greatly alarmed at first, but soon recognised the grey parrot, James, and was overcome with joy at his escape. She opened the window, stroked his head several times, and told him to come in. The parrot replied by gently shaking his head from side to side, then flew to the ground, walked away a few steps, looked back as if to see whether Mrs Gage were coming, and then returned to the window sill, where she stood in amazement.

‘The creature has more meaning in its acts than we humans know,’ she said to herself. ‘Very well, James,’ she said aloud, talking to him as though he were a human being, ‘I’ll take your word for it. Only wait a moment while I make myself decent.’

So saying she pinned on a large apron, crept as lightly as possible downstairs, and let herself out without rousing Mrs Ford.

Read on

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“A woman must have money and a room of her own.”

VIRGINIA WOOLF

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FICTION

brick floor > e. floor of stones briskly > adv. lively display > v. show evidently satisfied > e. seem to be happy oil cloth > e. cotton fabric treated with oil to make it waterproof purpose > n. reason relaid > v. put back shrilly > adv. sharp sovereigns > n. coins uncanny > adj. strange

READ AT YOUR OWN LEVEL. CHOOSE BETWEEN: Basic Challenging Demanding (the whole text)

Between the Lines

The parrot James was evidently satisfied. He now hopped briskly a few yards ahead of her in the direction of the burnt house. Mrs Gage followed as fast as she could. The parrot hopped, as if he knew his way perfectly, round to the back of the house, where the kitchen had originally been.

Nothing now remained of it except the brick floor, which was still dripping with the water which had been thrown to put out the fire.

Mrs Gage stood still in amazement while James hopped about, pecking here and there, as if he were testing the bricks with his beak. It was a very uncanny sight, and had not Mrs Gage been in the habit of living with animals, she would have lost her head, very likely, and hobbled back home.

But stranger things yet were to happen. All this time the parrot had not said a word. He suddenly got into a state of the greatest excitement, fluttering his wings, tapping the floor repeatedly with his beak, and crying so shrilly, ‘Not at home! Not at home!’ that Mrs Gage feared that the whole village would be roused.

‘Don’t take on so James; you’ll hurt yourself,’ she said soothingly.

But he repeated his attack on the bricks more violently than ever.

‘Whatever can be the meaning of it?’ said Mrs Gage, looking carefully at the kitchen floor. The moonlight was bright, and some of the bricks seemed as if they had been taken up and then relaid not quite flat with the others.

She had fastened her apron with a large safety pin, and she now prised this pin between the bricks and found that they were only loosely laid together.

Very soon she had taken one up in her hands. No sooner had she done this than the parrot hopped onto the brick next to it, and, tapping it smartly with his beak, cried, ‘Not at home!’ which Mrs Gage understood to mean that she was to move it. So they went on taking up the bricks in the moonlight until they had laid bare a space some six feet by four and a half. This the parrot seemed to think was enough. But what was to be done next?

Mrs Gage now rested, and determined to be guided entirely by the behaviour of the parrot James. She was not allowed to rest for long. After scratching about in the sandy foundations for a few minutes, as you may have seen a hen scratch in the sand with her claws, he unearthed what at first looked like a round lump of yellowish stone. His excitement became so intense that Mrs Gage now went to his help. To her amazement she found that the whole space which they had uncovered was packed with long rolls

TRACKS

of these round yellow stones, so neatly laid together that it was quite a job to move them. But what could they be? And for what purpose had they been hidden here?

It was not until they had removed the entire layer on the top, and next a piece of oil cloth which lay beneath them, that a most miraculous sight was displayed before their eyes – there, in row after row, beautifully polished, and shining brightly in the moonlight, were thousands of brand new sovereigns!!! ‌ From THE WIDOW AND THE PARROT by Virginia Woolf, published by Hogarth Press Reprinted by permission of The Random House Group Ltd.

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FICTION

Between the Lines Ray Bradbury

The Lake crumble > v. break down, fall apart deserted > adj. empty fumble > v. being clumsy hold one’s breath > e. choose to cease breathing for a time because one is anxious about something honeymoon > n. holiday after marriage lifeguard > n. rescue crew on a beach literary icon > e. author who has become an important model (icon) for people because of the way he or she writes permit > v. allow pigtails > n. hairstyle: the hair is parted down the middle and tied into two bundles, one on each side of the head revisit > v. go back, visit places again sandcastle > n. castle or fort made of sand shallow water > e. where the water is not deep shiver > v. shake, tremble water’s edge > e. where the water stops

READ AT YOUR OWN LEVEL. CHOOSE BETWEEN: Basic Challenging Demanding (the whole text)

Ray Bradbury (b. 1920) is an American literary icon. He has published more than 500 works – short stories, essays, plays, screen plays and poetry. In The Lake (1942) he tells us about Tally who swam out into the lake and never came back.

Years later, her friend Harold finally understands what has happened to Tally… In 1989, the story was part of a TV-series.

“My, there’s a wind,” said Mama.

“Put on your sweater, Harold.”

It was September. In the last days when things are getting sad for no reason. The beach was so long and lonely. Tomorrow I would be on my way west across the United States on a train.

Mama and I had come to the beach for one last brief moment.

“Mama, I want to run up the beach,” I said.

“All right, but hurry back, and don’t go near the water.”

I ran. I went down to the water.

I hadn’t dared to come to this spot and search around in the water and call a certain name. But now…. I called her name. A dozen times I called it. “Tally!

Tally! Oh, Tally!”

I thought of Tally, swimming out into the water last May, with her pigtails trailing, blond. She went laughing, and the sun was on her small ten-year-old shoulders. I thought of the lifeguard leaping into the water, of Tally’s mother screaming, and of how Tally never came out…

And now in the lonely autumn, I had come down for the last time, alone. I called her name again and again. “Tally, oh, Tally!” The wind blew

so very softly over my ears. “Tally!

Come back, Tally!” I was only twelve.

But I knew how much I loved her.

“Tally!” I called her name for the last time. I shivered. I felt water on my face and did not know how it got there.

Then I knelt and built a sandcastle, shaping it fine, building it as Tally and I had often built so many of them. But I only built half of it. Then I got up.

“Tally, if you hear me, come in and build the rest.”

The next day, I went away on the train.

The years passed. I married a young woman from Sacramento. By the time I was twenty-two, I had almost forgotten what the East was like. Margaret suggested that we go there for our honeymoon.

We stayed two weeks, revisiting all the places together. The days were happy.

I loved Margaret. At least I thought I did.

It was on one of the last days that we walked down by the shore. It was not quite as late in the year as that day so many years before, but people were thinning out, and the wind, as always, waited there to sing for us. I almost saw Mama sitting on the sand as she

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used to sit. It got late in the day.

Most of the children had gone home and only a few men and women remained basking in the windy sun.

The lifeguard boat pulled up on the shore and the lifeguard stepped out of it, slowly, with something in his arms. I froze there. I held my breath and I felt small, only twelve years old, very little and afraid.

I could not see Margaret. I could see only the beach, the lifeguard with a gray sack in his hands, not very heavy, and his face almost as gray.

“Stay here, Margaret,” I said.

I don’t know why I said it.

I walked slowly down the sand to where the lifeguard stood. He looked at me.

“What is it?” I asked.

He kept looking at me for a long time and he couldn’t speak.

“What is it?” I insisted.

“Strange,” said the lifeguard, quietly.

I waited.

“Strange,” he said, softly. “Strangest thing I ever saw. She’s been dead a long time.”

I repeated his words.

He nodded. “Ten years, I’d say.

There haven’t been any children drowned here this year. There were twelve children drowned here since 1963, but we found all of them. All except one, I remember. This body here, why it must have been ten years in the water.”

I stared at the gray sack in his arms. “Open it,” I said. He fumbled with the sack.

“Hurry, man, open it!” I cried.

“I’d better not do that,” he said.

“She was such a little girl.” He opened it only part way. That was enough. The beach was deserted.

I looked down at her there. I said something over and over. A name.

The lifeguard looked at me.

“Where did you find her?” I asked.

“Down the beach, that way, in the shallow water. It’s a long, long time for her, isn’t it?” I shook my head.

“Yes, it is. Oh God, yes it is.”

I thought: people grow. I have grown. But she has not changed. She is still small. She is still young. Death does not permit growth or change.

She still has golden hair. She will be forever young and I will love her forever, oh God, I will love her forever.

The lifeguard tied up the sack again.

Down the beach, a few moments later, I walked by myself. I stopped and looked down at something.

There, at the water’s edge, lay a sandcastle, only half-built. Just like Tally and I used to build them. She half and I half. I looked at it. I knelt beside the sandcastle and saw the small prints of feet coming in from the lake and going back out to the lake again and not returning. Then – I knew.

“I’ll help you finish it,” I said.

I did. I built the rest of it up very slowly. Then I got up and turned away and walked off, so as not to watch it crumble in the waves.

I walked back up the beach to where a strange woman named Margaret was waiting for me, smiling…

From THE SMALL ASSASSIN Copyright © Ray Bradbury Harper Collins Publisher

Once read, his words are never forgotten.

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FICTION

Between the Lines Oscar Wilde

The Happy Prince Oscar Wilde (1854–1900) was an Irish poet and dramatist. He is most famous for the play The Importance of Being Earnest (1895), his novel The Picture of Dorian Gray (1891) and his tale The Happy Prince (1888). In 1974 The Happy Prince was adapted to film. agility > n. ability to start, stop, and move the body quickly in different directions allow > v. let beyond > adv. here: behind copper scales > e. coins of low value courtier > n. noblemen/-women disrespect > n. lack of respect drench > v. wet all through lead > n. soft, grey, heavy metal lofty > adj. very high misery > n. great unhappiness pleasure > n. satisfaction seamstress > n. woman who sews and makes clothes for a living slumber > n. sleep thimble > n. fingertip cover to protect your finger when you are sewing toss feverishly > e. move from side to side withered > adj. dried-up

READ AT YOUR OWN LEVEL. CHOOSE BETWEEN: Basic Challenging & Demanding (the whole text)

In this story he seems to ask us what’s important in life. He gives us the story about the Happy Prince, a statue high above the city, on a tall column. One day the Swallow flew by and started talking with the Happy Prince…

The eyes of the Happy Prince were filled with tears, and tears were running down his golden cheeks. His face was so beautiful in the moonlight that the little Swallow was filled with pity.

“Who are you?” he said.

“I am the Happy Prince.”

“Why are you weeping then?” asked the Swallow; “you have quite drenched me.”

“When I was alive and had a human heart,” answered the statue, “I did not know what tears were, for I lived in the Palace of Sans-Souci, where sorrow is not allowed to enter. In the daytime I played with my companions in the garden, and in the evening I led the dance in the Great Hall. Round the garden ran a very lofty wall, but I never cared to ask what lay beyond it, everything about me was so beautiful. My courtiers called me the Happy Prince, and happy indeed I was, if pleasure be happiness. So I lived, and so I died. And now that I am dead they have set me up here so high that I can see all the ugliness and all the misery of my city, and though my heart is made of lead yet I cannot choose but weep.”

“What! Is he not solid gold?” said the Swallow to himself. He was too polite to make any personal remarks out loud.

“Far away,” continued the statue in a low musical voice, “far away in a little street there is a poor house. One of the windows is open, and through it I can see a woman seated at a table. Her face is thin and worn, and she has coarse, red hands, all pricked by the needle, for she is a seamstress. She is embroidering passion-flowers on a satin gown for the loveliest of the Queen’s maids-of-honour to wear at the next Court-ball. In a bed in the corner of the room her little boy is lying ill. He has a fever, and is asking for oranges. His mother has nothing to give him but river water, so he is crying.

Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow, will you not bring her the ruby out of my

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sword-hilt? My feet are fastened to this pedestal and I cannot move.”

“I am waited for in Egypt,” said the Swallow. “My friends are flying up and down the Nile, and talking to the large lotus-flowers. Soon they will go to sleep in the tomb of the great King. The King is there himself in his painted coffin. He is wrapped in yellow linen, and embalmed with spices. Round his neck is a chain of pale green jade, and his hands are like withered leaves.”

“Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,” said the Prince, “will you not stay with me for one night, and be my messenger? The boy is so thirsty, and the mother so sad.”

“I don’t think I like boys,” answered the Swallow. “Last summer, when I was staying on the river, there were two rude boys, the miller's sons, who were always throwing stones at me. They never hit me, of course; we swallows fly far too well for that, and besides, I come of a family famous for its agility; but still, it was a mark of disrespect.”

But the Happy Prince looked so sad that the little Swallow was sorry.

“It is very cold here,” he said; “but I will stay with you for one night, and be your messenger.”

“Thank you, little Swallow,” said the Prince.

So the Swallow picked out the great ruby from the Prince’s sword, and flew away with it in his beak over the roofs of the town.

He passed by the cathedral tower, where the white marble angels were sculptured. He passed by the palace and heard the sound of dancing.

A beautiful girl came out on the balcony with her lover. “How wonderful the stars are,” he said to her, “and how wonderful is the power of love!”

“I hope my dress will be ready in time for the State-ball,” she answered; “I have ordered passion-flowers to be embroidered on it; but the seamstresses are so lazy.”

He passed over the river, and saw the lanterns hanging to the masts of the ships. He passed over the Ghetto, and saw the old Jews bargaining with each other, and weighing out money in copper scales.

At last he came to the poor house and looked in. The boy was tossing feverishly on his bed, and the mother had fallen asleep, she was so tired.

In he hopped, and laid the great ruby on the table beside the woman's thimble. Then he flew gently round the bed, fanning the boy's forehead with his wings. “How cool I feel,” said the boy, “I must be getting better”; and he sank into a delicious slumber.

Then the Swallow flew back to the Happy Prince, and told him what he had done. “It is curious,” he remarked, “but I feel quite warm now, although it is so cold.”

“That is because you have done a good action,” said the Prince.

Extract

“No man is ever rich enough to buy back his past.”

OSCAR WILDE

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HISTORY

Between the Lines Barbara Florio Graham

A Christmas Story according to > e. based on associate with > e. be together with approach > v. come near burst of flame > e. sudden and short fire conscripted > v. forced to join gaunt > adj. thin and unhealthy huddle > v. crouch your body or curl up in the distance > e. far away McCarthy hearings > e. public hearings in which Senator McCarthy accused army officials, members of the media, and public figures of being Communists notice > v. see on the surface > e. at first reading, first impression peer > v. look remain > v. stay St. Nicholas > e. Father Christmas stereotyping of people > e. fixed ideas about people surrounded by > e. covered in, in the middle of

READ AT YOUR OWN LEVEL. CHOOSE BETWEEN: Basic Challenging Demanding (the whole text)

Barbara Florio Graham (b. 1934) is an American Canadian author of fiction, non-fiction, humor and poetry. On the surface, A Christmas Story (1954) tells about a young girl, her family and a soldier on Christmas Eve. However, with this story the author wanted to show that there is more to war than belonging to different sides…

‘The story behind the story is interesting. I wrote it when I was 17, a high school student very concerned about the McCarthy hearings in the US. It was a reaction … to the stereotyping of people according to who they associated with, the color of their skin, or their uniforms. I wanted to show that even “enemy” soldiers were human beings, and often people who are conscripted to fight in an army are gentle individuals at heart.’

Barbara Florio Graham

It is Christmas Eve. In a damp, cold cellar, surrounded by the smell of death, huddles a little girl. It is very dark, and a chill wind blows in through a hole that has once been a window. In the distance, through the ruins of nearby buildings, one can just about see the sky and one single twinkling star. Could this be the Star of Bethlehem? The child thinks so, and is not afraid of the darkness, or of being alone.

A sudden explosion sends a burst of flame into the air, and smoke covers the star. But still she is not afraid. She is thinking of what her papa told her, before he left earlier in the evening.

‘Stay here, little daughter, and keep Mama warm,’ the gaunt, sad-eyed man whispered before he slipped away into the night. ‘Maybe I shall meet St. Nicholas, and he will give me something to make Mama well. And even,’ he added with a smile, ‘maybe he’ll even give me a doll for you!’

‘St. Nicholas! A doll for you!’ The words have a magical sound as she repeats them to herself. And then, remembering her promise, she pulls the blanket closer around the lifeless body of her mother. Shivering, she returns to the corner by the window.

Hours pass; it is close to midnight. The sky is clearer now, and all is very quiet. The little girl is crying softly. For some reason Mama will not wake up. The child is lonely and cold, and she is afraid that Papa will not find St. Nicholas tonight.

Suddenly she hears someone approaching. She peers out into the darkness and then runs to the doorway, afraid to go any further. ‘Papa?’

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she whispers. ‘Papa!’ But it is not Papa; it is some soldiers. They stop, and talk in a strange language. It is too dark to see their uniforms.

The soldiers look about, talking in their low, strange voices. They do not seem to notice her, or the woman stretched on the ground, but as they turn to leave, one soldier hesitates at the door and stays behind the others. He has a shaggy beard and gentle eyes. He smiles at her when she tells him about Papa, and he seems to understand. He looks at Mama’s face – perhaps he will wake her! But no, he only spreads the blanket gently over her again.

The other soldiers start off down the road, but the one with the beard remains and stands, as if waiting for something, looking into the distance. He is remembering a gaunt, sad-eyed man whom he has just killed as a spy. The man was wearing a worn-out overcoat, and its pockets were filled with trash, not the military information the soldiers had thought they would find.

He looks at the little girl, and then at his wristwatch. In two minutes it will be Christmas Day! He thinks a moment, and then reaches into his rucksack and draws out a small object. He hands it to her and quickly turns away.

A doll! A beautiful, beautiful Christmas doll!

She does not care that one leg is missing and the dress is stained with blood and dirt. It is a doll, a real doll! She will be lonely no longer.

Suddenly the thought strikes her. A man with a beard, with a gentle smile, who carries toys in a pack on his back! She glances after him as he turns the corner into the light of the moon. St. Nicholas! St. Nicholas has come after all!

It is Christmas Day. In the damp, cold cellar, in the stillness of the deserted town, huddles the little girl. Like any little girl on Christmas morning, she is playing with her doll. And in her mind is still the picture of St. Nicholas, with his long beard, his twinkling eyes, his jolly smile, pulling a doll out of the pack on his back. A doll for her!

Copyright © Barbara Florio Graham Reprinted by permission of the author

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“I wanted to show that even ‘enemy’ soldiers were human beings.”

BARBARA FLORIO GRAHAM

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SPORT

Between the Lines Kolumnetittel Jan Mark

Feet against someone’s will > e. something a person doesn’t want foremost > adj. most important foul it up > e. spoil by doing something wrong fourth year > adj. final year in high school or college, USA having it all his own way > e. be lucky impartial > adj. act fairly otherwise > adv. if not rung > n. crosspiece between the legs of a chair skulk > v. stay quiet, try not to be seen swig > v. swallow twenty-twenty vision > e. normal eye sight, perfect vision TENNIS VOCABULARY: advantage > n. better position foursome > n. a group of four people playing tiebreak > n. if both players have the same score after six sets, a tiebreak is an extra game to decide the winner umpire > n. referee

READ AT YOUR OWN LEVEL. CHOOSE BETWEEN: Basic Challenging Demanding (the whole text)

Jan (Janet) Mark (1943–2006) was a British author of novels and short stories – best known as a writer for children. She won Britain's foremost children’s literary award, the Carnegie Medal, twice.

In Feet (1983) she tells us about Jane, who much against her will, is going to be the umpire in the boys’ final of the school’s tennis championships.

Michael Collier, all the girls’ dream boy, is one of the players.

Collier comes over to the dark corner where I am skulking with my cold spotty arms and starts talking to me!

‘Jane Turner, isn’t it?’ he says. He must have asked somebody because he couldn’t possibly know otherwise. I was only a fourth year then.

And I say, ‘Yes.’ And he says, ‘I see you every day on the bus, don’t I?’ And I say, ‘Yes,’ although I travel downstairs and he travels upstairs, among the smokers, although of course he doesn’t smoke himself because of his athlete’s lungs.

And he says, ‘You’re an umpire today, aren’t you?’

And I say, ‘Yes.’ And he says, ‘Do you play?’

And I say, ‘Yes,’ which I do and not badly but I don’t go in for tournaments because people watch and if I was being watched, I would foul it up.

‘We have a court at home,’ he says which I know because he is a near neighbour. And then he says, ‘You ought to come over and play, sometime.’

And I can’t believe this but I say, ‘Yes. Yes, please. Yes, I’d like that.’ And I still don’t believe it.

And he says, ‘Bring your cousin and we’ll make up a foursome. That was your cousin who was sitting next to you, wasn’t it, on the bus?’ and I know he must have been asking about me because my cousin Dawn is only staying with us for a week.

And I say, ‘Yes,’ and he says, ‘Come on Friday, then,’ and I say, ‘Yes.’ Again.

And I wonder how I can last out till Friday evening. It is only three-fifteen on Wednesday.

Collier takes off his sweater and hangs it on the rung of my chair and says, ‘Don’t be too hard on me, Jane, with that smile that would make you love him even if you didn’t like him, and I say, ‘I’ve got to be impartial,’ and I’m afraid I won’t be impartial.

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He says, ‘I won’t hold it against you, Jane.’ And he says, ‘Don’t forget Friday.’

I say ‘I won’t forget Friday,’ as loudly as I can so that as many people as possible will hear, which they do.

You can see them being surprised.

‘And don’t forget your cousin,’ he says, and I say, ‘Oh, she’s going home on Thursday morning.’

‘Some other time, then,’ he says.

‘No, no.’ I said. ‘I can come on Friday,’ but he was already walking onto the court and he just looked over his shoulder and said, ‘No, it doesn’t matter,’ and all round the court you could see people not being surprised.

And I was up there on that lousy stinking bloody ladder and everybody could see me.

I thought I was going to cry and spent a long time putting my glasses on. …

Collier wasn’t having it all his own way, hooray hooray. Mills was very good too and the first set went to a tiebreak. I still wasn’t making any mistakes. But when they came off the court after the tiebreak which Collier won, and did Wimbledony things with towels and a bit of swigging and spitting, he kept not looking at me. I mean, you could definitely see him not looking at me. Everybody could see him not looking at me; remembering what he had said about Friday and what I had said about Friday, as loudly as I could.

I was almost crying again, and what with that and the state of the official school pencil, the score card began to be in a bit of a mess and I suddenly realised that I was putting Collier’s points on the wrong line.

And of course, I called out, ‘Advantage Mills,’ when it should have been 40-30 to Collier and he yelled at me to look at what I was doing.

You don’t argue with the umpire. You certainly don’t yell at the umpire, but he did. I know I was wrong but he didn’t have to yell. I kept thinking about him yelling and about Friday and in the next game I made the same mistake again and he was saying, ‘That’s all I need; a cross-eyed umpire. There’s eight hundred people in this school – can’t we find one with twenty-twenty vision?’ …

Read on

“You need to be arrogant to be a tennis player.”

JOHN MC ENROE

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SPORT

death-ray eyeballs > adj. here: sight that could kill scowl > v. frown towelling > v. using a towel to dry his sweat vindictive > adj. wanting revenge TENNIS VOCABULARY: ace > n. unreachable serve baseline > n. line that marks the limits of the play bounce off > e. hit and move away centre line > e. the line in the middle double fault > e. miss two serves and then lose a point foot-fault > n. foot in wrong place on the court serve > v. throw the ball up into the air and hit it service > n. stroke that puts the ball in play set > n. one of the groups of six or more games that form part of a match toss up > e. throw the ball up in the air walkover > n. victory because the other player does not show up or is disqualified

READ AT YOUR OWN LEVEL. CHOOSE BETWEEN: Basic Challenging Demanding (the whole text)

Between the Lines Kolumnetittel

Then Mills won the next game without any help from me and I thought, ‘At least he’s not having another walkover,’ and I remembered what Alan Carson had said. ‘He doesn’t care where he puts his feet.’ And of course, after that, I couldn’t help looking at his feet and Carson was right. He didn’t care where he put them. He had this very fantastic service that went up about ten yards before he hit the ball, but his toes were over the baseline three times out of five. I don’t know why nobody noticed. I suppose they were all watching the fantastic ten-yard service and anyway, nobody looks at feet.

At first I forgot that this was anything to do with me; when I did remember, I couldn’t bear to do anything about it, at first. Then it was Mills who was serving and I had time to think.

I thought, ‘Why should he get away with it?’

Then I thought, ‘He gets away with everything,’ and I realised that Carson probably hadn’t been talking about real feet but feet was all I could think of.

Collier served. His feet were not where they should have been.

‘Fifteen-love.’

I thought, I’ll give you one more chance because he was playing so well and I didn’t want to spoil that fantastic service. But he had his chance, and he did it again. It was a beautiful shot, an ace, right down the centre line, and Mills never got near it.

I said, ‘Foot fault.’

There was a sort of mumbling noise from everyone watching and Collier scowled but he had to play the second service. Mills tipped it back over the net and Collier never got near it.

‘Fifteen all.’

‘Foot fault.’

He was going to argue, but of course he couldn´t because his feet were not what he looked at when he was serving.

‘Fifteen – thirty.’

His second service wasn´t very good really.

‘Foot fault.’

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‘Fifteen – fourty.’

And then he did begin to look, and watching his feet he had to stop watching the ball and all sorts of things began to happen to his service.

Mills won that set.

‘What the hell are you playing at, Turner?’ said Collier, when they came off court and he called me a vindictive little cow while he was towelling and spitting but honestly, I never called foot fault if it wasn’t one.

They went back for the third set and it was Collier’s service. He glared at me like he had death-ray eyeballs and tossed up the first ball.

And looked up.

And looked down at his feet.

And looked up again, but it was too late and the ball came straight down and bounced and rolled away into the crowd.

So he served again, looked up, looked down, and tried to move back and trod on his own foot and fell over.

People laughed. A laugh sounds terrible on Centre Court with all those walls to bounce off. By now, everybody was looking at his feet.

He served a double fault.

‘So who’s winning?’ said Alan Carson.

‘I am,’ I said, miserably.

From FEET AND OTHER STORIES, 1983 Published by Puffins Books Copyright © Jan Mark Reprinted by permission of David Higham Ass.

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“The umpire in tennis has absolute authority to make factual determinations.”

ON POINT SPORTS

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TIMELINE

Between the Lines Vikram Seth

Beastly Tales ancestral house > e. house belonging to the family for ages by stealth > e. being careful brood > n. children canopy > n. cover above a throne cross my heart and hope to die > e. we say it to tell that something is really true dirk > v. stab foil detection > e. stay hidden, not be found further prey > e. here: more food Ganges > n. holy river in India glib > adj. talking too much humbler > n. someone who is defeated ingeniously > adv. creatively learned lore > e. traditional stories louse > n. blood-sucking insect parabolic leap > e. high, curved jump pay close heed > v. listen carefully plead > v. ask intensely pursue > v. continue with stale > adj. uninteresting without ado > e. immediately

READ AT YOUR OWN LEVEL. CHOOSE BETWEEN: Basic Challenging Demanding (the whole text)

Vikram Seth (b.1952) is an Indian poet, novelist and children's writer. Though he is better known as the author of ‘A Suitable Boy’ (1993), his ‘Beastly Tales From Here and There’ (1991) is a delightful collection of 10 story-poems.

‘The Louse and the Mosquito’ is an old tale from India, ingeniously retold by Vikram Seth. It tells about a louse, a mosquito and a king – and also offers a commentary on power and the British Empire.

The Louse and the Mosquito In the King’s bed, Creep the louse Lived in her ancestral house.

They had dwelt here as of right For three decades, and each night She and her enormous brood Drank the King’s blood for their food.

Once the signal came from Creep That the King was fast asleep, Quietly, discretely, they Nipped and sipped and drank away.

Sons and grandsons, sisters, brothers, Great-granddaughters, greatgrandmothers, Second cousins and their wives Thus pursued their gentle lives – Lives of undisturbed delight – Growing plump and smooth and white.

One day a mosquito flew Through the window. As he drew Closer to the velvet bed Canopied with gold, he said:

1600 The English East India Company is formed

‘Lovely! Just the place for me.

Ah, what perfume – let me see – Rose – no, jasmine. And the quilt – Smooth as banks of Ganges silt!

Let me test the bedsprings now.’

So he jumped up – and somehow, In a parabolic leap, Landed not too far from Creep.

‘Sir Mosquito, flap your wings.

Leave at once. This bed’s the King’s.’

‘Who may you be, Lady Louse?’

‘I’m the guardian of this house.’

‘House?’ ‘This quilt. It’s mine,’ said Creep; ‘There’s no place for you, Sir Leap.’

‘Let me sleep here for one night And I’ll catch the morning flight,’ Thus the sad mosquito pleaded, And at last his prayers were heeded For the tender-hearted Creep Could not bear to watch him weep.

1857 1858

1763

India comes y fails rule of th under direct e British crow n

utin dian m

British dominance in India

In

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‘Well, come in,’ she said at last, ‘But tonight you’ll have to fast, For on no account may you Bite him, as we’re trained to do.

We can drink and cause no pain, Loss of royal sleep, or stain.

You, I fear, would cause all three.

I can’t risk my family.

But the glib mosquito cried: ‘Now you’ve let me come inside, Lady Louse, how can you be Cold in hospitality?

Just one bite – I ask no more – For I’ve learned from learned lore That the royal blood contains Remedies for aches and pains – Ginger, honey, sugar, spice, Cardamom, and all things nice.

Save me. I’m in broken health.

Let me bite him – once – by stealth.

He won’t even shift or sigh.

Cross my heart and hope to die.’

It was only afternoon – Fairly early, fairly soon – When the King came for a snooze, Doffed his crown and shirt and shoes, Lay down on the bed, and sighed.

The mosquito almost died From excitement, shock, and sweat.

‘No!’ the louse cried: ‘No! Not yet!’

But too late! The self-willed humbler – Rushing to the rash attack, Leapt upon the royal back, And with fierce and fiery sting Deeply dirked the dozing king.

‘Help! a scorpion! a snake!’

Screamed the King, at once awake.

‘I’ve been bitten! Search the bed!

Find and strike the creature dead!’

When they made a close inspection The mosquito foiled detection, Hidden in the canopy; But the louse clan could not flee.

All were killed without ado.

Meanwhile, the mosquito flew, Finally the louse agreed.

‘Right!’ she said, ‘but pay close heed. Looking out for further prey, Humming mildly on his way.

Wait until wine, fatigue, or deep Dream-enriched, unbroken sleep Has enveloped him, then go: Copyright © Vikram Seth Lightly nip his little toe.’

Orion books, 1991 UK ‘Yes, yes, yes. That’s all old hat,’ Said Sir Leap; ‘I know all that.

Keep your stale advice.’ He smiled: ‘Seriously – I’m not a child.’

1877 es Queen Victoria becom ia Ind of ss the Empre

1931 Mass discontent in India

1947

India become independent India and Pakistan from Britain separate states

81

“What is important for a writer is when a reader is gripped by a book and delays his dinner to read a few more pages.”

VIKRAM SETH