(After Ernest Hemingway)
An old man in very dusty clothes sat by the side of the road. There was a pontoon [pɒnˈtuːn] bridge across the river and carts, lorries, and men, women and children were crossing it and going on. But the old man sat there without moving. He was too tired to go on.
(After Mark Twain)
The man lives in Philadelphia, who, when young and poor, entered a bank, and said: “Please, sir, don’t you want a boy?” And the bank man said:
“No, little boy, I don’t want a little boy.”
(After E. Myers)
All along the Atlantic and Pacific coasts, from August till November, meteorologists watch for hurricanes, which are very dangerous storms. The wind in a hurricane blows round and round in a spiral. In the centre of a hurricane there is a small area known as “eye” where there is good weather. Usually hurricanes are given girl’s names like Carla, Betsy and Camille. A hurricane is really a very strong tropical cyclone. The girl’s name is used for radio communication. Easy-to-remember names help operators not to make mistakes during radio talks about the movements of a hurricane.
(After Mark Twain)
Years ago I arrived one day at Salamanca near New York, where I was to change trains and take the sleeper. There were a lot of people on the platform, and they were all trying to get into the long sleeper train which was already packed.
(After Mark Twain)
(After O. Henry)
(Level of difficulty: 5 of 10)
SUE and Johnsy were poor artists who lived in a little New York district west of Washington Square. They painted pictures which they hoped to sell. Their studio was on the third floor of an old brick house.
(After Stephen Leacock)
Of all the different ideas that have been started lately, I think that the very best is the notion of celebrating once a year “Mother’s Day”.
A man sat at a metro station in Washington D. C. and started to play the violin [ˌvaɪəˈlɪn]; it was a cold January morning. He played six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes. During that time, since it was rush hour, it was calculated that thousands of people went through the station, most of them on their way to work.
A large river-boat was going down the Mississippi on its way to New Orleans. One of the passengers on the boat was a young gentleman, St. Clare by name. He had with him a daughter between five and six years of age. The child was so beautiful that people turned and looked after her as she went by.
