Friday, December 20, 2013

Comic Romance

Dialogue.
 This is a story about a 15 years marriage, in which the man (Charles) was at home, but he was supposed to be at work. He needed to meet his wife (Chelsea) to tell her a horrible thing that had just happened to him.
Chelsea has always wanted to have children, but Charles is prepared to have them, for he preferred to be focused in his career. Secondly, there has never been any possibility to join the whole family, because Chelsea has never tolerated Charles’ mother (Alice), although he loves his mother more than anything. Thirdly, Chelsea makes him choose between her or his mother and sister (Cloe) each time they discuss.
Another character is Robert, who is Chelsea’s father and wished to get rid of Charles, for he thinks she deserves someone better than him. 

Charles:  Hello, honey. I’m at home! Is there anybody here?...( anybody asked) This is strange…she should be here?
Chelsea: (Entering the house)…And you? What are you doing here? Weren’t you supposed to be at home right now?
Charles: But sweetie, I came to have lunch with you. You must be happy for that. 
Chelsea: It’s not that…it is only that I am surprised.
Charles: Where were you?
Chelsea: Ehm…I don’t know if I should tell you?
Charles: What are you hiding? I’m so intrigued.
Chelsea: Ohm…Yes. There is something I haven’t told you.
Charles: Tell me now.  I’m getting scared about that.
Chelsea: Well, I haven’t told you because I was not sure, but now I am.
Charles: We have spent fifteen years together…why are you hiding the truth? Perhaps there is someone else, it there? 
Chelsea: Yes, there is someone else…
Charles: But how? What happened? When?
Chelsea: Take it easy…
Charles: …I cannot be quiet!
Chelsea: Look me in the eyes…I love you, and that person is coming is our child. I’m pregnant!
Charles: What? How? Ha?
Chelsea: That’s right. After all the effort we did, it happened at last. In fact, the doctor told me that it could happen when you stop trying!
Charles: I’m glad to know that there is no other man…What a relief! But…
Chelsea: What’s wrong with you? Maybe you are not happy…
Charles: Yes…No…
Chelsea: No? But this is what we have always wanted, honey!
Charles: Well, but there is something you need to know…
Chelsea: What?
Charles: Actually, I didn’t come to have lunch only…I was fired today!
Chelsea: How? You serious?  And what are we going to do now?
Charles: Be quiet. I’ll think about that.

(They huge each other)
After 2 days…
(DING DONG)
Chelsea: (Opens the door) Hello, mother in law…What a surprise!     
Alice: Hello, dear!
Chelsea: Hi, Cloe. Come in.  
Cloe: Wait! Don’t close the door!
Chelsea: Is anyone else coming?
Alice: Yes! The moving van!
Chelsea: What?
Charles: Mom! Sister! Good to see you both.
Chelsea: What is happening here?
Alice: Take it easy, sweetie. Charles told us the problem and we came to help you immediately.
Chelsea: To help us? How? What are those stuffs?
Cloe: We came to live with you, and we will pay the rent while we stay here.
Alice: Your house is too big, and you’ll need help, especially now that you are pregnant.
Chelsea: But Charles!
Charles: What’s wrong? Don’t you like the idea?
Chelsea: Why did you not tell me before?
Alice: Dear, I think you don’t have any choice.
Chelsea: It is my house! You could ask me before doing this
Charles: But honey, it’s my family!
 Alice: Of course. And it is time to stop discussing, the decision is already done. Now, I’m starving...
Cloe: Me too! What do you have for lunch?
Chelsea: Bread with butter.
Cloe: Are you crazy? Don’t you have anything else to offer us?
Chelsea: No, that’s all.
Charles: Hey sister…what are you in the mood for?
Chelsea: I said there is anything else!!!
Charles: ehm…but maybe we can go to the supermarket to buy something delicious in order to celebrate your arrival.
Chelsea: No. I prefer to save money…my house, my rules!
Alice: I’m going to pay for living here, so it is my home too.
Chelsea: Charles…this is not going to work.
Charles: But…but…
Chelsea: You’ll have to choose. It is your mother or me!
Charles: Honey, please don’t make me choose…
Chelsea: Right.
Charles: What are you doing? Why are you taking your purse? Where are you going?
Chelsea: To live with my parents! It will be the best solution.
Charles: But…but…the baby…our dreams...our marriage…think about that!!!
Chelsea: You’ve already decided. It is clear. And about the baby…you can see it in 9 more moths.

(Ding dong, rings the doorbell again)
Chelsea: (Opens the door)
Robert: Hello, daughter! I was near here and I decided to come to see you.
Chelsea: Great. It is the best moment you could come.
Robert: Why? And what’s happening here? Why are there so many people in your house?

Charles: Father in law! She wants to leave me. Help me please, I don’t deserve this?

Chelsea: You don’t deserve it? Hey, you chose to live with your family instead save our marriage!!
Robert: Is that truth? Well, if that is his decision, you better come to live with me.


Chelsea: And that is what I’ll do right now. So, good bye Charlie, it was a pleasure to meet you.
Charles: If you go out of this house, I’m not going to follow you, and it will be the end of our…
Chelsea: (Slams the door and goes with her father)

And they lived mooched off their parents FOREVER…










Wednesday, December 4, 2013

Infomercial: Stress Away





This class was so funny. We had to create an advertisement for strange objects and try to sold it. So I will write what my group and I developed.

Are you tired of finger pain? Do you have problems to fill an online report?

We have the solution. We present the new "Stress Away". This extraordinary and unique massage device that makes you forgive that annoying pain. You only have to slide the Stress Away across your fingers and the hurt will dissapear. Your boss will be enchanted with you professionalism and dedication.

Our phone-in customer service facility is 4-047-301-002. So call now, our operators are waiting for you and you will receive a product developed for your satisfaction.  

Animal Farm

by George Orwell


KEY LITERARY ELEMENTS

SETTING: The novel is set in Hertfordshire, where Orwell lived, wrote, tended his garden, and kept poultry. Though the setting is the South of England, it is not stressed in the story, but serves only as a background. The farm…….

CHARACTERS

Old Major  -An old boar that dreams of a better life and incites the animals to overthrow man. He is the
inspiring force behind the Rebellion and founding of Animal Farm.
Snowball  -A young, intelligent, persuasive, and important boar known for his oratory skills. He is expelled
by Napoleon.
Napoleon -An ambitious, power-hungry, ruthless and eminent boar who stoops to any level to gain his goal.
Boxer  -A big, powerful, honest, and devoted carthorse who does not have many brains but always comes
forward whenever any hand work is needed.
Clover  -A motherly mare who is trulyconcerned about the welfare of the animals. She has a good shoulder to cry on and is a source of strength and confidence, especially to Boxer.
Benjamin -A cynical, skeptical donkey who believes everything remains the same with………

CONFLICT

The conflictin  Animal Farmis really between Marxist Socialism (Old Major) and Russian Communism
(Napoleon) as represented by the two attitudes expressed by the two different groups in the novel.
Protagonist  -  The protagonist is the group of common animals searching for a utopian world and largely
represented by characters like Old Major and Snowball and supported by the 'proletariat'.
Antagonist -  The antagonist is the combination of all the forces acting against such an idealistic world, largely represented by the power-hungry Napoleon and his henchman, Squealer.
Climax  -  The ultimate climax is reached when Napoleon changes Animal Farm into a republic and elects
himself President, assuring the maintenance of his seized power. The result of Napoleon’s……..

PLOT(Synopsis)
Mr. Jones, the owner of Manor Farm, has not been a very responsible farmer. Of late, he has taken to drinking and tends to neglect his farming chores. His careless attitude makes Old Major, the Berkshire boar, incite the animals to rise up against Jones. The boar calls for a meeting to explain his dream for the farm animals. Although Old Major does not narrate the dream, he does explain the ill treatment given to them by man and the dreary and deplorable life they are leading on the farm. He also inspires the animals with his song 'Beasts of England.' The inspired animals seize their very first opportunity to oust Mr. Jones and rename the farm as “Animal Farm”. They inscribe their laws, seven commandments, on the barn-wall. Napoleon and Snowball ……..

THEMES

Major Theme
The major theme of the novel is the sad triumph of evil over good. The animals try to create a utopia, a
paradise where society brings out and develops the best in a being. Unfortunately, the animals that gain
control of Animal Farm begin to act in a manner similar to the humans that they had kicked off the farm. At
the end of the novel, the pigs cannot be distinguished from the humans.

Minor Theme
Power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely is another theme of  Animal Farm. When the animals seize control of the farm, the leaders are corrupted by their power. Allegorically, Orwell is ……….

MOOD 
The mood varies from the comic to the tragic, with the overall mood being one of tension. The whole story is filled with irony and bitter sarcasm.

BACKGROUND INFORMATION

GEORGE ORWELL
George Orwell was the pen name of an English writer, Eric Blair. He was born in Motihari, Bengal in India in 1903, the second child of an Anglo-Indian family. At the age of eight, he was sent to boarding school in
England. After winning a scholarship, Orwell went to Eton, where he studied from 1917 to 1921 and was
exposed to liberal and socialist ideas. From 1922 until 1927, he served in the Indian Imperial Police in Burma; he resigned  because the climate affected his health and because he believed that the British rule in Burma was unjust. He returned to Europe to pursue a writing career and first lived in Paris and then London. At first he could not find a publisher for his works. Asa result, he led a life of poverty, doing odd jobs to…….

ALLEGORY
An allegory is a series of metaphors or symbols continued throughout an entire story so as to represent or
describe one series of facts by using another that is analogous to its main features. 'Animal Farm' is intended to be an allegory of Russian history from 1917-1943, including the period of World War I, the Economic Policy Plan, and the first Five Year Plan. All the characters of 'Animal Farm' parallel figures in……..

Animal Farm  =    History of Russia
Old Major’s philosophy  =    The philosophies of Marx and Lenin
Animalism  =    Communism
Other Animals  =    Bolsheviks (common people )
Mr. Jones  =    Czar of Russia
Seven Commandments    =    Communist Manifesto
Skull of Old Major  =    Lenin's body
Old Major's death  =    Lenin's death followed by struggle for power
Windmill Construction  =    Russian construction of steel mills and electric plants
Napoleon's sale of timber to Frederick  =    Stalin entered into a non-aggression pact with
Hitler's Germany
Frederick's declaration of war on  =    Hitler's declaration of war on Russia
Animal Farm
Windmill destroyed, animals died  =    Stalingrad destroyed
Sugarcandy  =    In 1944 Stalin wrote letters to Pope to conduct services
Napoleon's entertaining of humans in the farmhouse =Different meetings between Stalin and Churchill in Russia



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Friday, November 22, 2013

Jeremy - Pearl Jam

At home
drawing pictures
of mountain tops
with him on top
lemon yellow sun
arms raised in a V
dead lay in pools of maroon blood
daddy didn't give attention
to the fact that mommy didn't care
king jeremy the wicked
ruled his world
jeremy spoke in class today
jeremy spoke in class today
clearly i remember
pickin' on the boy
seemed a harmless little fuck
but we unleashed a lion
gnashed his teeth
and bit the recessed lady's breast
how could i forget
he hit me with a surprise left
my jaw left hurtin
dropped wide open
just like the day
like the day i heard
daddy didn't give affection
and the boy was something mommy wouldn't wear
king jeremy the wicked
ruled his world
jeremy spoke in class today
jeremy spoke in class today
try to forget this...
try to erase this...
from the blackboard.

_____________________________________________________________________________

Jeremy is a song was inspired by a newspaper article Vedder read about a high school student that shot himself in front of his English class. "Jeremy" features lyrics written by vocalist Eddie Vedder and music written by bassist Jeff Ament. The song's music was written before the band went out on tour in support of Alice in Chains in February 1991.
I choose this song, because make me create conscience about the people and their feelings. Now  a days we need share with different people in jobs, in public transportation, in the supermarket, so all people is important and deserve all our respect. Many times we walk between people and we look but don't see, we belive that they no exist, but they are. So the message that the song represents to me is be respectful.

Tuesday, October 22, 2013

Caterpillar and her friends

Description of the place

In the garden of Inacap there is a large area of fresh green grass.  In the center there is a statue that reflects the serenity of a woman. We do not know who she is, but she seems nice. Beautiful flowers surround her and that place is populated by a number of different insects. In addition, there is a large majestic tree that covers them from the sun and wind. Nearby are some structures where some huge strangers sometimes rest. Despite all the great space is a place that is forbidden, strange noises are heard. Some have approached that place and they have told us that they have seen giant beings and they have seen how they get down from large ships.  No one dares to go there, because those who have gone there never return.

Characters

Protagonist: The Caterpillar: flabby body, fat, green, cheerful, gentle, dreamy.
The protagonist is a caterpillar with a flabby body which makes it look a very adorable but weak insect. It is as fat as it looks almost like a cheese soufflé, and it is bright green as much to camouflage perfectly on any tree. The caterpillar's personality represents all those good thing a which every being should have. It's cheerful, happy, friendly, kind, polite and charismatic. However, its main virtue is to be dreamy and always keep moving.

Antagonist: The Fly: Black, hairy, smelly, sneering, envious and grumpy.
The antagonist is a fly. It is black like its heart, hairy like a  horrific spider, and almost as smelly as a skunk. Its personality is completely opposite  to the caterpillar's; he is sneering, unkind, unfriendly, envious and grumpy, and Its main goal is to damage somebody's feeling to be satisfied.

Friend: The Cricket:  Bright body, red long antennae, wise, good  friend
The cricket is one of the caterpillar's bset friends. It is slim like a stick insect and has long arms and legs. Its whole body is bright brown, and on his head, it has two red long antennaes.  The cricket is wise, so he knows what to do when a friend is in danger. Besides, he is a good listener, trusting and supportive with everybody. He is a good friend.

Friend: Ladybug: small, friendly, innocent, tender.
The ladybird is another caterpillar's best friend. She is small like a marble, has a vivid red 
shell with white circles on it and two black little antennaes. Her personality was almost the 
same as caterpillar's, but a little more shy, innocent and tender. Nevertheless, she would do anything for her friend, the caterpillar.


Caterpillar and her friends

It was a beautiful spring day very early in the morning. As every day the caterpillar, cricket and ladybird go out to play soccer while the spider waved her cobweb and looked from 
afar because that kind of game were too childlike for her. Every time when the ball went away, the fly always kicked it to the forbidden place but all the rest went to rescue it except the caterpillar because she was too slow and couldn´t fly.

The caterpillar began to feel discriminated against because everybody could fly or leap great distances except her. She started to dislike the game especially when the fly flew screaming, “You fat you cannot fly” said the fly. The caterpillar has very sad cried and cried, trying to comfort he the little ladybird said nice things but it was not enough…
Ladybird: caterpillar don´t cry, you are gentle and kind and you look better when you smile
Caterpillar: to be a good insect is not enough for me because I can´t fly.
Cricket: take it easy caterpillar, someday you will fly. i'm sure about it.
Caterpillar: how do you know that? I´m so heavy and I crawl so slowly. How can I can fly being like this?
Cricket: be patient, your moment will come soon. Don´t despair.
Spider: hahahah! Don´t dream about what will never happen. What do you want wings for; I have no wings and I can fly yet.
Fly: spider don´t be silly. You must have wings to be happy. For example I have traveled around the world and tasted the most delicious garbage, mmmm, so ladybug stop encouraging that fat caterpillar because she will never fly.
Cricket: don´t tell her fat, you are no so attractive. Anyway despite your wings, anybody wants you. Let her dream of having wings, maybe someday her dream will become true.
Spider: ooohhh… look fly he says bad things about you hahahhaha ugly, alone and sad hahahahha
After while the caterpillar began to feel ill, something strange was happening to her. She felt pain and dizziness. She just wanted to sleep.  Her friend ladybug accompanied her until she fell into a deep sleep. No one knew what was wrong and for weeks she didn´t come to play.
One day there appeared in the garden a colorful and beautiful butterfly flying over the area; its brightly colored wings unfurled and caught the attention of everyone.
Ladybird: Look, look!! someone has come.
Spider: What are you doing here? Surely you only come to show off.
Fly: Who is coming? We do not want more bugs here!
Cricket: Don´t you recognize her?
All in unison: No, who is it?
Cricket:  I always told you that one day she would fly, it is our friend the caterpillar.
Butterfly (ex - caterpillar): Yes, I'm the caterpillar after waiting so I can finally fly and I'm not fat and heavy.
Spider (ranging): it cannot be, as you have changed, you are beautiful and can fly. I hate you more; I’m going to my web grrrrr.
Fly: god! Who’s going to think that it would turn into a butterfly, I cannot believe it.
Butterfly: while, the wait was long and difficult, it was worth it, thanks to cricket who told me to be patient, waited long enough and look like I can fly! Now let's play ball.


The End

Tuesday, October 1, 2013

The Carousel


When I was a child I always enjoyed riding the carousel. I imagined thousands of stories going rounds and round on those glorious magical horses. I enjoyed riding in the evening in low light, by virtue of my enjoyment of the illuminated scenes with their many flashing lights doing their own show. The lights began in the foundation, shining all around, up to the high ceiling, red, white and yellow flashes calling everyone's attention; inviting children to ride the carousel. But the best without doubt the horses galloping swiftly, reaching their destination. The horses were magical, unexpected colors, dazzling frames helped to achieve the task, to forget reality. Psychedelic colors flashed on the carousel. I never understood why these horses were pierced from the bottom to the top by a long pole. At first I thought they were to attach, but I understood that they had to be secured to the carousel, as only wild horses had those colors and owners wouldn’t let them escape. The horses had pretty good muscle power, and whinnying could be heard loudly and clearly. Where have they found horses? Surely on a trip brave hunters found these wandering horses and brought to the carousel so that even if it is for only 10 minutes, children can ride and feel the wild gallop in their dreams!


Friday, September 13, 2013

Call of Wild


1.- Summary chapter 1-2-3

            Buck was the most loved dog on the Judge Miller’s place in Santa Clara Valley. Unfortunately the gardener sold to pay off debts he had. Buck passing through several buyers to reach French-Canadians François and Perrault. And those who wanted to pull the sled with other Huskies. Buck learned to respect their masters at the point of blows with clubs survive and develop various skills. On the way to be met huskies were attacked by hungry and lost some of their peers. There was always that annoying Spitz until buck managed to kill him.

2.- Bully in my life
            Always someone bothers us for some reason; we put nicknames or invent something to get our attention. When as a child in school, I remember a boy called me Valderrama and for my curly and bulky hair, similar to the Colombian soccer play Carlos Valderrama. He always cried me Valderrama and all laughed. Until one day I ran beside him angry while playing football at recess and said If you look it Valderrama I show you, and with all my strength kick his soccer ball, amazed everyone laughed at him because I kicked better and stronger than him.  He never bothered me.

            Spitz's case is extreme there is much anger between him and buck, I never experienced anything like eh and I do not live it. People should be more relaxed and not save so much anger in his heart.

Tuesday, September 10, 2013

What does being a good person?


Being good means having daily behaviors consistent with others. Think of the other, being supportive and polite. Remember that we live in society and we are not alone. The characteristics that a good person should possess are:
Be polite, for example giving good morning, good night, greet the neighbors if you run into them in the building or the street, to your co-workers to get to the office, a “hello how are you?" requires no effort and will not take more than two seconds to pronounce it. Be grateful, in situations when someone has taken the trouble to do you a favor, to do something for you, to help you, to fulfill a request let them know that notes with a simple “thank you”. Board this will make you look like a rude and many like a bad person.

Share with the people you love and appreciate, be kind to them and plan quality time with these people important to you. To be a better person tries to be more available to the other: when your mother calls you to tell you what happened when someone needs help even a stranger on the street asking for an address where you can handle anything invests about minutes of your day to be available to the other and listen or do a favor. For many it is easy to be friendly with who treats you well but the real challenge is to be with those who constantly show their rudeness. It is clear that there are limits but often polite greeting or a kind gesture is the best way to show the other’s behavior without the need to act like it. Try to be a good person or at least not be mean to those who are not so nice to you.

Practice being more patient in everyday life: while you’re in line at the supermarket, with the elderly, with your parents, your children. When a situation you try to put the limit breathe and blow, often unfairly exploit the undeserving who accumulated stress, avoid it and try to be a better person. We must not confuse kindness with stupidity. Some people think that people kind, noble and help the other are stupid, be polite and be accessible when you need not compromise at all our intelligence, learn to be intuitive and know when someone wants to take advantage of you and when you really need your help.

What is conduct?
In the dictionary of psychology is that in Latin, the term “behavior” comes from “conductus” meaning “driving” and basically refers to how an organization is conducted in relation to others, as a moral norm, social or cultural background. It also refers to the global behavior of a particular social group in their relationship to others. It is sometimes used as a synonym for behavior, but it is wrong to do so, because the conduct involves a conscious activity, observable and repeatable.

What is behavior?
Is the way forward that people have in relation to their environment stimuli. This can be conscious or unconscious, voluntary or involuntary, public or private, depending on the circumstances affecting the organism.

The Umbrella Man (with alternative parts)

I’m going to tell you about a funny thing that happened to my mother and me yesterday evening. I am twelve years old and I’m a girl. My mother is thirty-four but I am nearly as tall as her already.
Yesterday afternoon, my mother took me up to London to see the dentist. He found one hole. It was in a back tooth and he filled it without hurting me too much. After that, we went to a café. I had a banana split and my mother had a cup of coffee. By the time we got up to leave, it was about six o’clock.
When we came out of the café it had started to rain.
“We must get a taxi,” my mother said. We were wearing ordinary hats and coats, and it was raining quite hard. “Why don’t we go back into the café and wait for it to stop?” I said. I wanted another of those banana splits. They were gorgeous.
“It isn’t going to stop,” my mother said. “We must go home.” We stood on the pavement in the rain, looking for a taxi. Lots of them came by but they all had passengers inside them. “I wish we had a car with a chauffeur,” my mother said.
Just then, a man came up to us. He was a small man and he was pretty old, probably seventy or more. He raised his hat politely and said to my mother “Excuse me. I do hope you will excuse me… .” He had a fine white moustache and bushy white eyebrows and a wrinkly pink face. He was sheltering under an umbrella which he held high over his head.
“Yes?” my mother said, very cool and distant.
“I wonder if I could ask a small favour of you.” he said. “It is only a very small favour.”
I saw my mother looking at him suspiciously. She is a suspicious person, my mother. She is especially suspicious of two things – strange men and boiled eggs. When she cuts the top off a boiled egg, she pokes around inside it with her spoon as though expecting to find a mouse or something. With strange men she has a golden rule which says, “The nicer the man seems to be, the more suspicious you must become.” This little old man was particularly nice. He was polite. He was well-spoken. He was well-dressed. He was a real gentleman. The reason I knew he was a gentleman was because of his shoes. “You can always spot a gentleman by the shoes he wears,” was another of my mother’s favourite sayings. This man had beautiful brown shoes.
“The truth of the matter is,” the little man was saying, “I’ve got myself into a bit of a scrape. I need some help. Not much, I assure you. It’s almost nothing, in fact, but I do need it. You see, madam, old people like me often become terribly forgetful….”
My mother’s chin was up and she was staring down at him along the full length of her nose. It is a fearsome thing, this frosty-nosed stare of my mother’s. Most people go to pieces completely when she gives it to them. I once saw my own headmistress begin to stammer and simper likes an idiot when my mother gave her a really foul frosty-noser. But the little man on the pavement with the umbrella over his head didn’t bat an eyelid.
He gave a gentle smile and said, “I beg you to believe, madam that I am not in the habit of stopping ladies in the street and telling them my troubles.”
“I should hope not,” my mother said.
I felt quite embarrassed by my mother’s sharpness. I wanted to say to her, “Oh, mummy, for heaven’s sake, he’s a very very old man, and he’s sweet and polite, and he’s in some sort of trouble, so don’t be so beastly to him.” But I didn’t say anything.
The little man shifted his umbrella from one hand to the other. “I’ve never forgotten it before,” he said.
“You’ve never forgotten what?” my mother asked sternly.
“My wallet,” he said. “I must have left it in my other jacket. Isn’t that the silliest thing to do?”
“Are you asking me to give you money?” my mother said.
“Oh, goodness gracious me, no!” he cried. “Heaven forbid I should ever do that!”
“Then what are you asking?” my mother said. “Do hurry up. We’re getting soaked to the skin standing here.”
“I know you are,” he said. ” And that is why I’m offering you this umbrella of mine to protect you, and to keep forever, if … if only …”
“If only what?” my mother said.
“If only you would give me in return a pound for my taxi-fare just to get me home.”
My mother was still suspicious. “If you had no money in the first place,” she said, “then how did you get here?”
“I walked,” he answered. “Every day I go for a lovely long walk and then I summon a taxi to take me home. I do it every day of the year.”
“Why don’t you walk home now,” my mother asked.
“Oh, I wish I could, ” he said. “I do wish I could. But I don’t think I could manage it on these silly old legs of mine. I’ve gone too far already.”
My mother stood there chewing her lower lip. She was beginning to melt a bit, I could see that. And the idea of getting an umbrella to shelter under must have tempted her a good deal.
“It’s a lovely umbrella,” the little man said.
“So I’ve noticed,” my mother said.
“It’s silk, ” he said.
“I can see that.”
“Then why don’t you take it, madam,” he said. “It cost me over twenty pounds, I promise you. But that’s of no importance so long as I can get home and rest these old legs of mine.”
I saw my mother’s hand feeling for the clasp on her purse. She saw me watching her. I was giving her one of my own frosty-nosed looks this time and she knew exactly what I was telling her. Now listen, mummy, I was telling her, you simply mustn’t take advantage of a tired old man in this way. It’s a rotten thing to do. My mother paused and looked back at me. Then she said to the little man, “I don’t think it’s quite right that I should take a silk umbrella from you worth twenty pounds. I think I’d just better give you the taxi-fare and be done with it.”
“No, no, no!” he cried. “It’s out of the question! I wouldn’t dream of it! Not in a million years! I would never accept money from you like that! Take the umbrella, dear lady, and keep the rain off your shoulders!”
My mother gave me a triumphant sideways look.
There you are, she was telling me. You’re wrong. He wants me to have it.
She fished into her purse and took out a pound note. She held it out to the little man. He took it and handed her the umbrella. He pocketed the pound, raised his hat, gave a quick bow from the waist, and said. “Thank you, madam, thank you. ” Then he was gone.
When I read this, I thought that the story would continue in this way …
My mother still shocked, couldn’t believe that for a pound erned a silk umbrella. I saw her thoughtfully and said: mom what happens? she replied: daughter, remembered a time when I saw a silk umbrella so cute, I wanted to buy it, but it was too expensive. For a time save money but when your grandmother sick, I had to medicine and never gather money for the umbrella.
I can’t believe that in strange circumstances got this umbrella.
Mummy where are you going!!
Hurry up daughter, follow me!
Sir, sir wait!!!
The charismatic man turned and it’s wrinkles opened showing his attentive eyes. Tell me Madame.

I wanted to thank, I don’t know if the umbrella is or not important to you, but I’m glad today and would like to compensate.
Lady didn’t need any compensation. Moved on.
The mother felt a deep serenity, and thought, my rules this time have not been clear; distrust by appearance is nothing more than stupid.
But the story actually continued otherwise….

“Come under here and keep dry, darling,” my mother said. “Aren’t we lucky. I’ve never had a silk umbrella before. I couldn’t afford it.”
“Why were you so horrid to him in the beginning?” I asked.
“I wanted to satisfy myself he wasn’t a trickster,” she said. “And I did. He was a gentleman. I’m very pleased I was able to help him.”
“Yes, mummy,” I said.
“A real gentleman,” she went on. “Wealthy, too, otherwise he wouldn’t have had a silk umbrella. I shouldn’t be surprised if he isn’t a titled person. Sir Harry Goldsworthy or something like that.”
“Yes, mummy.”
“This will be a good lesson to you,” she went on.”Never rush things. Always take your time when you are summing someone up. Then you’ll never make mistakes.”
“There he goes,” I said. “Look.”
“Where?”
“Over there. He’s crossing the street. Goodness, mummy, what a hurry he’s in.”
We watched the little man as he dodged nimbly in and out of the traffic. When he reached the other side of the street, he turned left, walking very fast.
“He doesn’t look very tired to me, does he to you, mummy?”
My mother didn’t answer.
“He doesn’t look as though he’s trying to get a taxi, either,” I said.
My mother was standing very still and stiff, staring across the street at the little man. We could see him clearly. He was in a terrific hurry. He was bustling along the pavement, sidestepping the other pedestrians and swinging his arms like a soldier on the march.
“He’s up to something,” my mother said, stony-faced.
“But what?”
“I don’t know,” my mother snapped. “But I’m going to find out. Come with me.”
She took my arm and we crossed the street together. Then we turned left.
“Can you see him?” my mother asked.
“Yes. There he is. He’s turning right down the next street.”
We came to the corner and turned right. The little man was about twenty yards ahead of us. He was scuttling along like a rabbit and we had to walk fast to keep up with him. The rain was pelting down harder than ever now and I could see it dripping from the brim of his hat onto his shoulders. But we were snug and dry under our lovely big silk umbrella.
“What is he up to?” my mother said.
“What if he turns round and sees us?” I asked.
“I don’t care if he does, ” my mother said. “He lied to us. He said he was too tired to walk any further and he’s practically running us off our feet! He’s a barefaced liar! He’s a crook!”
“you mean he’s not a titled gentleman?” I asked.
“Be quiet, ” she said.
At the next crossing, the little man turned right again. Then he turned left. Then right.
“I’m not giving up now,” my mother said.
“He’s disappeared!” I cried. “Where’s he gone?”
“He went in that door!” my mother said. “I saw him! Into that house! Great heavens, it’s a pub!”
It was a pub. In big letters right across the front it said THE RED LION.
When I read the name of the pub imagined the following…
The Red Lion was a Chinese pub. Behind the barman has a secret room, in this the old man play black jack and bet a lot of money. Non many people known this room, but little man was a old player and he just need one pound to start the play cards.
The woman and her daughter follow him, but two big young Chinese men didn’t enter. So they wait outside the pub until the old man go out. When he goes the mother tell him. Hey! Why lied to us??!!… Madame really sorry I’m addicted to glambing, I can’t stop, but why lied to the woman asked. The embarrassed man offered apologies and give other new silk umbrella. He was owner to the factory. A woman laughs and accepts it.
But what actually happened…

“You’re not going in, are you, mummy?”
“No,” she said. “We’ll watch from outside.”
There was a big plate-glass window along the front of the pub, and although it was a bit steamy on the inside, we could see through it very well if we went close. We stood huddled together outside the pub window. I was clutching my mother’s arm. The big raindrops were making aloud noise on our umbrella.
“There he is,” I said. “Over there.”
The room we were looking into was full of people and cigarette smoke, and our little man was in the middle of it all. He was now without his hat or coat, and he was edging his way through the crowd toward the bar. When he reached it, he placed bath hands on the bar itself and spoke to the barman. I saw his lips moving as he gave his order. The barman turned away from him for a few seconds and came back with a smallish tumbler filled to the brim with light brown liquid.
The little man placed a pound note on the counter.
“That’s my pound!” my mother hissed. “By golly he’s got a nerve!”
“What’s in the glass?” I asked.
“Whiskey,” my mother said. “Neat whiskey.”
The barman didn’t give him any change from the pound.
“That must be a treble whiskey,” my mother said.
“What’s a treble?” I asked.
“Three times the normal measure,” she answered.
The little man picked up the glass and put it to his lips. He tilted it gently. Then he tilted it higher… and higher… and higher… and very soon all the whiskey had disappeared down his throat in one long pour.
“That was a jolly expensive drink,” I said.
“It’s ridiculous!” my mother said. “Fancy paying a pound for something you swallow in one go!”
“It cost him more than a pound, ” I said. “It cost him a twenty pound silk umbrella.”
“So it did,” my mother said. “He must be mad.”
When I read that, I seemed odd. 
He was not mad, he was thirsty. But why anyone would give an expensive umbrella per a pound to drink?
Something was wrong, but I can not know what is this, perhaps he found a warehouse full of silk umbrella and he want to be in secret, he uses a trick to sell it by the pound.
But it is absurd.
Or maybe use some marketing technique for his umbrellas are all over the city.
mmm do not know. Maybe should keep reading to find really is the end of this strange story.
The little man was standing by the bar with the empty glass in his hand. He was smiling now, and a sort of golden glow of pleasure was spreading over his round pink face. I saw his tongue come out to lick the white moustache, as though searching for the last drop of that precious whiskey. Slowly, he turned away from the bar and edged back through the crowd to where his hat and coat were hanging. He put on his hat. He put on his coat. Then, in a manner so superbly cool and casual that you hardly noticed anything at all, he lifted from the coat rack one of the many wet umbrellas hanging there and off he went.
“Did you see that!” my mother shrieked. “Did you see what he did!”
“Ssshh!” I whispered. “He’s coming out!”
We lowered the umbrella to hide our faces and peeped out from under it. Out he came. But he never looked in our direction. He opened his new umbrella over his head and scurried off down the road the way he had come.
“So that’s his little game!” my mother said.
“Neat, ” I said. “Super.”
We followed him back to the main street where we had first met him, and we watched him as he proceeded, with no trouble at all, to exchange his new umbrella for another pound note. This time it was with a tall thin fellow who didn’t even have a coat or hat. And as soon as the transaction was completed, our little man trotted off down the street and was lost in the crowd. But this time he went in the opposite direction.
“You see how clever he is!” my mother said. “He never goes to the same pub twice!”
“He could go on doing this all night, ” I said.
“Yes,” my mother said. “Of course. But I’ll bet he prays like mad for rainy days.”

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