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All About The Little Small Red Hen


 Автор статьи: Дмитрий Коропенко

Уровень: начальный и выше

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Добрый день!

Эта небольшая рифмованная сказка поможет вам почувствовать ритм и красоту английской речи. Наша задача – прослушать несколько раз аудио-файл, затем еще несколько раз прослушать его, смотря при этом в текст, и затем начинать читать. Нужно добиться того, чтобы вы читали почти так же быстро и плавно, как и диктор. (почти:))

Интересные фразы выделены в тексте жирным шрифтом. Перевод слов найдите в словаре. Потом выпишите новые фразы в свой словарь. Если точно уверены, что помните, что означают фразы, то перевод можно вообще не писать в словарь – так даже лучше.

В конце статьи я даю вам ссылку на аудио-файл. Слушайте на здоровье, читайте, запоминайте выделенные фразы и улучшайте свой английский!

 

All About
The Little Small Red Hen

:: DEDICATED TO ::
THE NICEST CHILD IN
THE WHOLE WORLD


 

 

All About the Little Small Red Hen.

Illustrated by John B. Gruelle.

Once upon a time,

Though I can’t say exactly when,

There lived, away in the country,

A Little Small Red Hen.

She wore a nice little apron,

And a little sunbonnet too,

And she walked picketty pecketty,

As little Hens always do.

 

She had lived the whole of her little life,

In the same little house; it stood

All by itself, in a lonely spot,

Just at the edge of a wood.

It was very snug and cosy and warm,

And the garden wasn’t big,

But just what a Little Small Red Hen

Could nicely manage to dig.

And once upon a time—

Just the same time, of course,

There also lived a Wicked Old Fox

Among the heath and gorse.

Silently, slyly, he crept round the fields,

Stealing geese and ducks and cocks,

Dressed in a hat and long great coat,

This wicked, cunning old Fox.

His house was perched on top of the hill,

It was made of rock and stone;

He and his wife, old Mother Fox,

They lived there all alone.

 

It was large and damp and draughty,

Ugly and cold and bare;

A tidy Little Small Red Hen

Would never be happy there.

Now, the Wicked Old Fox had often tried

Over and over again,

To catch by some sly trick or other

The Little Small Red Hen.

 

 

 

 

But she was far too clever for him,

She never let him find her,

And whenever she left her little house

She would lock the door behind her.

One morning, very early indeed,

Before the sun was hot,

The Wicked Old Fox said to Mother Fox,

“Put on the big black pot.

“I’m going to have another try,

I shall soon be back, and then

I promise you’ll see at last I’ve caught

The Little Small Red Hen.”

 

So he put on his cap and shouldered a sack,

And walked very sly and slow;

And after a while he came in sight

Of the snug little house below.

And he laid the sack very softly down

On the ground behind a tree,

And then lay down to wait and watch,

As quiet as quiet could be.

 

He was getting tired of waiting there,

When the house-door opened wide,

And the Little Small Red Hen came forth

To gather sticks outside;

 

Walking picketty-pecketty,

Exceedingly neat and prim;

And the Wicked Old Fox lay watching;

She never once thought of him!

While she was picking up the sticks

He slipped behind the door,

And laughed “Ho! Ho!” to himself, very low,

As he put the sack on the floor.

 

He stood there, hiding and chuckling,

And peeping through the crack,

And he saw the Little Small Red Hen,

In a minute or two, come back.

She stepped inside with her bundle of sticks,

As cheerful as one could be,

When the Wicked Old Fox sprang full at her throat.

“I’ve got you now!” cried he.

 

What good are bolts and bars?” he said,

“How silly you must be

To think that they could ever keep out

A cunning old Fox like me!”

Of course the poor Little Small Red Hen

Was now in a terrible fright.

She gave a scream and dropped her sticks,

They tumbled left and right.

 

But she just had time to fly on a beam

That went across over head,

Quite out of reach of the Wicked Old Fox.

“But I’ll have you yet,” he said.

Then he began to run round and round,

And round and round beneath,

Looking up every now and then,

Laughing and showing his teeth.

 

It made her dreadfully dizzy and faint,

She gave a cluck and a lurch,

She gave a flap and a flutter and flop,

And fell right off her perch.

 

Then the Wicked Old Fox threw open his sack,

And in less than half a minute,

He had picked her up with a cry of joy,

And hastily stuffed her in it.

He swung it over his shoulder, smiled,

And started off for his den;

“How nice you’ll be for supper!” said he,

“My dear Little Small Red Hen!”

 

So there she was, poor thing, you see,

Shut up quite tight in the sack;

She found it most unpleasant there,

Close and stuffy and black.

But she thought of her little scissors,

In her apron pocket hid.

“I will cut a hole and see where I am,”

She said. And so she did.

 

Now the sun was hot, and all the time

It was getting hotter still;

And the Wicked Old Fox grew very tired

As he climbed the heathy hill.

 

 

 

 

He dropped on mossy bank, and said—

“It may be lazy—but

I think I’ll just have forty winks,”

And his wicked eyes blinked and shut.

The Little Small Red Hen, indeed,

Was also very glad

To rest a bit from the jogs and jolts’

And the bangs and bumps she’d had.

 

And she thought, “If I cut a little hole,

Why not a big one too?”

And she cut a slit that was long enough

To let her whole self through!

Wasn’t she pleased to be free again!

She said, “I must run double-quick;

But before I go I’ll manage to play,

The Wicked Old Fox a trick.”

 

And she took a great big knobby stone,

As large as a lump of coal,

And heaved and pushed, and pushed and heaved,

‘Till she got it through the hole.

And then she scuttled panting home

As fast as her legs would go,

Not walking picketty-pecketty

This time,—oh dear no!

 

She scuttered and fluttered down the hill,

And scampered through her door.

“Thank goodness!” she said, all out of breath,

“I’m safe at home once more!”

But when the Wicked Old Fox woke up,

It was getting dark and late.

He shouldered the sack, and found it now

A most remarkable weight.

 

 

 

 

“Dear me!” he said, “she weighs like a goose!

I thought she’d be light as a wren;

What a splendid supper we’ll have to-night

Off the Little Small Red Hen!”

 

So heavily, wearily trudged he home,

And kept shifting the sack about;

And when at last he came to his door,

There was old Mother Fox looking out.

She said to him, “You look tired, my dear,”

And he answered, “Ah, she’s caught!”

And he puffed and licked his lips and said

She’s twice as fat as I thought!”

 

He asked, “My love, is the pot on the boil?”

“It’s boiling fast,” she replied.

He said, “Then take the lid off, my dear,

And we’ll pop her plump inside!”

So Old Mother Fox took off the lid,

Hot and steaming and black,

While the Wicked Old Fox, with hurry and haste,

Untied the mouth of the sack.

 

And—SPLASH! went in the great big stone,

It was a splash! my word!

I don’t suppose a splash so loud

Has ever before been heard.

The bees and birds and bunnies all,

Who had gone to bed for the night,

For miles around, woke up with a jump

In a most tremendous fright.

 

And the boiling water in the pot

Splashed out on every side,

And terribly scalded the Wicked Old Fox,

And Old Mother Fox, and they died.

There they lay, all still and stark,

Up in the house on the hill;

There they lay, and, for all I know,

There they are lying still.

 

But the Hen lived happily, just as before,

In her dear little house by the wood,

Walking picketty-pecketty,

Working as hard as she could.

“I’ve had a great many troubles!

I hope they won’t happen again;

Anything for a quiet life!”

Said the Little Small Red Hen.

The End

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The Little Red Hen – Audio Book

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До встречи.


Isaac Asimov, “Caves of Steel” – Айзек Азимов, “Стальные пещеры”

Уровень: Средний и выше

caves of steel

Великолепное произведение знаменитого Айзека Азимова “Стальные пещеры” подарит вам удовольствие оригинальным стилем, гениальными идеями и захватывающим сюжетом.

Далее ознакомьтесь с отрывком из статьи из Википедии (на английском). Я, как обычно, выделяю жирным шрифтом и наклоном некоторые словосочетания. Когда будете читать, остановитесь на них, подумайте, какими фразами вы могли бы заменить их, подобрать эквиваленты. Если не трудно, напишите в комментариях фразу из текста и ваш эквивалент – у нас будет некий конкурс перефразирования.

Сам аудио-спектакль и сценарий к нему Вы найдете на нашей группе ВКонтакте:

VK – Английский без усилий – Айзек Азимов – Стальные пещеры – аудио

VK – Английский без усилий – Айзек Азимов – Стальные пещеры – текст

Приятного прослушивания и красивого вам английского!

 

The Caves of Steel is a novel by Isaac Asimov. It is essentially a detective story, and illustrates an idea Asimov advocated, that science fiction is a flavor that can be applied to any literary genre, rather than a limited genre itself. Specifically, in the book Asimov’s Mysteries, he states that he wrote the novel in response to the assertion by editor John W. Campbell that mystery and science fiction were incompatible genres. Campbell had said that the science fiction writer could invent “facts” in his imaginary future that the reader would not know. Asimov countered that there were rules implicit in the art of writing mysteries, and that the clues could be in the plot, even if they were not obvious, or were deliberately obfuscated. He went on to write several science-fiction mysteries in both novel and short-story form, as well as mainstream mysteries such as The Death Dealers and Murder at the ABA, which had elements of science but were not science fiction.

The book was first published as a serial in Galaxy Magazine, October to December 1953. A Doubleday hardcover followed in 1954.

In this novel, Isaac Asimov introduces Elijah Baley and R. Daneel Olivaw, who would later become his favorite protagonists. They live roughly three millennia in Earth’s future, a time when hyperspace travel has been discovered, and a few worlds relatively close to Earth have been colonized—fifty planets known as the “Spacer worlds“. The Spacer worlds are rich, have low population density (average population of one hundred million each), and use robot labor very heavily. Meanwhile, Earth is overpopulated (with a total population of eight billion), and strict rules against robots have been passed. The eponymous “caves of steel” are vast city complexes covered by huge metal domes, capable of supporting tens of millions each. The New York City of that era, for example, encompasses present-day New York City, as well as large tracts of New Jersey.

Asimov imagines the present day’s underground transit connected to malls and apartment blocks, extended to a point where no one ever exits to the outside world. Indeed, most of the population cannot leave, as they suffer from extreme agoraphobia. Even though the Robot and Foundation series were not considered to be part of the same fictional universe until much later, those “caves of steel” resemble the planet Trantor.

In The Caves of Steel and its sequels (the first of which is The Naked Sun), Asimov paints a grim situation of an Earth dealing with an extremely large population, and of luxury-seeking Spacers who limit birth so that each may have great wealth and privacy. Asimov, who was agoraphobic, did not himself find the lack of daylight grim. He mentioned that a reader asked him how he could have imagined such an existence with no sunlight. He related that it had not struck him until then that living perpetually indoors might be construed as unpleasant.