"Acceptable Risk", by Robin Cook http://www.amazon.co.jp/dp/0425151867 Tuesday, July 12, 1994 KIMBERLY STEWART glanced at her watch as she went through the turnstile and exited the MBTA subway at Harvard Square in Cambridge, Massachusetts. It was a few minutes before seven P.M. She knew she would be on time or only minutes late, but still she hurried. Pushing through the crowd milling about the news kiosk in the middle of the square, she half ran and half walked the short distance on Massachusetts Avenue before turning right on Holyoke Street. -------------------------------------------------------------- * turnstile (noun) a small gate that spins around and only lets one person at a time go through an entrance * MBTA : Massachusetts Bay Transportation Authority * mill around/about (phrasal verb) if a lot of people are milling around, they move around a place without a particular purpose * kiosk (noun) a small building in the street where newspapers, sweets etc are sold
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Pausing to catch her breath in front of the Hasty Pudding Club building, Kimberly glanced up at the structure. She knew about the Harvard social club only in reference to the annual award it gave to an actor and an actress. The build- ing was brick with white trim like most buildings at Har- vard. She'd never been inside although it housed a public restaurant called Upstairs at the Pudding. This was to be her first visit. -------------------------------------------------------------- * brick (noun) a hard block of baked clay used for building walls, houses etc * trim (noun) the decoration on something such as a piece of clothing * house (verb) if a building houses something, it is kept there : The new building will house the art collection.
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With her breathing restored to near normal, Kim opened the door and entered only to be confronted by several siz- able flights of stairs. By the time she got to the maitre d's podium she was again mildly winded. She asked for the ladies' room. -------------------------------------------------------------- * confront (verb) to stand in front of someone in a threatening way : She was confronted by two men. * sizable (adj.) (=sizeable) fairly large * maitre d's podium (noun) ? * podium (noun) a small raised area for aperformer, speaker etc to stand on * winded (adj.) < wind (verb) if a fall, a blow, or exercise winds you, it causes you to have difficulty breathing
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While Kim wrestled with her thick, raven hair which refused to do what she wanted it to do, she told herself there was no need to be nervous. After all, Stanton Lewis was family. The problem was that he had never before called at the last minute to say that he "needed" her to come to dinner and that it was an "emergency." -------------------------------------------------------------- * wrestle (verb) [wrestle with something] to try to understand or solve a difficult problem : He wrestled with the problem for days. * raven (adj.) black and shiny * family : [she's/he's family] (informal) used to emphasize your connection with someone who is related to you
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The Sign of the Four by Arthur Conan Doyle http://en.wikisource.org/wiki/The_Sign_of_the_Four/Chapter_1 Chapter 1: The Science of Deduction Sherlock Holmes took his bottle from the corner of the mantelpiece, and his hypodermic syringe from its neat morocco case. With his long, white ,nervous fingers he adjusted the delicate needle and rolled back his left shirtcuff. For some little time his eyes rested thoughtfully upon the sinewy forearm and wrist, all dotted and scarred with innumerable puncture-marks. Finally, he thrust the sharp point home, pressed down the tiny piston, and sank back into the velvet-lined armchair with a long sign of satisfaction. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------- * hypodermic (adj.) used to give an injection beneath the skin * syringe (noun) a tube and needle used for removing blood from your body, or for putting drugs into it * morocco (noun) fine soft leather case used especially for covering books * sinewy (adj.) a sinewy person has a thin body and strong muscles * innumerable (adj.) very many
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Master of the game, by Sidney Sheldon http://www.amazon.co.jp/dp/0446355453 BOOK ONE Jamie, 1883 - 1906 "By God, this is a real donderstorm!" Jamie McGregor said. He had grown up amid the wild storms of the Scottish High- lands, but he had never witnessed anything as violent as this. The afternoon sky had been suddenly obliterated by enormous clouds of sand, instantly turning day into night. The dusty sky was lit by flashes of lightning - weerlig, the Afrikaners called it - that scorched the air, followed by donderslag - thunder. * donderstorm (noun) ? sand thunderstorm ? * obliterate (verb) to destroy something completely * weerlig (noun) ? lightning ? * scorch (verb) if you scorch something, or if it scorches, its surface burns slightly and becomes brown * donderslag (noun) ? thunder ?
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Then the deluge. Sheets of rain that smashed against the army of tents and tin huts and turned the dirt streets of Klipdrift into frenzied streams of mud. The sky was a roar with rolling peals of thunder, one following the other like artillery in some celestial war. Jamie McGregor quickly stepped aside as a house built of raw brick dissolved into mud, and he wondered whether the town of Klipdrift was going to survive. Klipdrift was not really a town. It was a sprawling canvas vil- lage, a seething mass of tents and huts and wagons crowding the banks of the Vaal River, populated by wild-eyed dreamers drawn to South Africa from all parts of the world by the same obsession: diamonds. * deluge (noun) (formal) a large flood * frenzied (adj.) wild and uncontrolled * seethe (verb) [be seething] if a place is seething with people, insects etc, there are a lot of them all moving quickly in different directions
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813 by Maurice Leblanc, translated by Alexander Teixeira de Mattos http://en.wikisource.org/wiki/813/Chapter_1 Chapter 1: The Tragedy at the Palace Hotel Mr. Kesselbach stopped short on the threshold of the sitting-room, took his secretary's arm and, in an anxious voice, whispered: "Chapman, some one has been here again. " "Surely not, sir, " protested the secretary. "You have just opened the hall-door yourself; and the key never left your pocket while we were lunching in the restaurant. " "Chapman, some one has been here again, " Mr. Kesselbach repeated. He pointed to a traveling-bag on the mantelpiece. "Look, I can prove it. That bag was shut. It is now open. " Chapman protested. "Are you quite sure that you shut it, sir? Besides, the bag contains nothing but odds and ends of no value, articles of dress ..." "It contains nothing else, because I took my pocket-book out before we went down, by way of precaution ... But for that ... No, Chapman, I tell you, some one has been here while we were at lunch. "...
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The Little Prince, by Antoine de Saint-Exupery, translated by Katherine Woods http://wikilivres.info/wiki/The_Little_Prince I Once when I was six years old, I saw a magnificent picture in a book, called True Stories from Nature, about the primeval forest. It was a picture of a boa constrictor in the act of swallowing an animal. Here is a copy of the drawing. http://wikilivres.info/wiki/File:Boa_fauve.png In the book it said: "Boa constrictors swallow their prey whole, without chewing it. After that they are not able to move, and they sleep through the six months that they need for digestion. " * magnificent (adj.) very good or beautiful, and very impressive: He gave a magnificent performance. * primeval (adj.) belonging to a very early time in the history of the world: primeval forests * boa constrictor (noun) a large snake that is not poisonous, but kills animals by crushing them * prey (noun) an animal that is hunted and eaten by another animal: a tiger stalking its prey
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I pondered deeply, then, over the adventures of the jungle. And after some work with a colored pencil I succeeded in making my first drawing. My Drawing Number One. It looked something like this: http://wikilivres.info/wiki/File:Sombrero.png I showed my masterpiece to the grown-ups, and asked them wheter the drawing frightened them. But they answered : "Frighten? Why should any one be frightened by a hat?" My drawing was not a picture of a hat. It was a picture of a boa constrictor digesting an elephant. But since the grown-ups were not able to understand it, I made another drawing: I drew the inside of a boa constrictor, so that the grown-ups could see it clearly. They always need to have things explained. My Drawing Number Two looked like this: http://wikilivres.info/wiki/File:Boa.png * ponder (verb) to think carefully and seriously about something: She pondered her answer for a long time.
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Chromosome 6, by Robin Cook http://www.amazon.co.jp/dp/0425161242 Chapter 1 March 4, 1997, 7:25 A.M., New York City Jack Stapleton bent over and put more muscle into his pedaling as he sprinted the last block heading east along Thirtieth Street. About fifty yards from First Avenue he sat up and coasted no-hands before beginning to brake. The upcoming traffic light was not in his favor, and even Jack wasn't crazy enough to sail out into the mix of cars, buses, and trucks racing uptown. The weather had warmed considerably and the five inches of slush that had fallen two days previously was gone save for a few dirty piles between parked cars. Jack was pleased the roads were clear since he'd not been able to commute on his bike for several days. The bike was only three weeks old. It was a replacement for one that had been stolen a year previously. Originally, Jack had planned on replacing the bike im- mediately.But he'd changed his mind after a terrifyingly close encounter with death made him temporarily conser- vative about risk. The episode had nothing to do with bike riding in the city, but nonetheless it scared him enough to acknowledge that his riding style had been deliberately reckless. -------------------------------------------------- * coast (verb) move, especially downhill, without using power
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But time dimmed Jack's fears. The final prod came when he lost his watch and wallet in a subway mugging. A day later, Jack bought himself a new Cannondale mountain bike, and as far as his friends were concerned, he was up to his old tricks. In reality, he was no longer tempting fate by squeezing between speeding delivery vans and parked cars; he no longer slaloamed down Second Avenue; and for the most part he stayed out of Central Park after dark. Jack came to a stop at the corner to wait for the light, and as his foot touched down on the pavement he surveyed the scene. Almost at once he became aware of a bevy of TV vans with extended antennae parked on the east side of First Avenue in front of his destination: the Office of the Chief Medical Examiner for the City of New York, or what some people called simply, the morgue. ----------------------------------------------- * prod (noun) < prod (verb) to persuade or remind someone to do something that they are not eager to do * mugging (noun) < mug (verb) to attack and rob someone in a public place * survey (verb) to look at someone or something carefully * bevy (noun) a large group of people of the same kind, especially girls or young women * morgue (noun) a room or building where dead bodies are kept before they are buried or burned (= mortuary)
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The Perican Brief, by John Grisham : http://www.amazon.co.jp/dp/0385339704 1 HE SEEMED INCAPABLE of creating such chaos, but much of what he saw below could be blamed on him. And that was fine. He was ninety-one, paralyzed, strapped in a wheelchair and hooked to oxygen. His second stroke seven years ago had almost finished him off, but Abraham Rosenberg was still alive and even with tubes in his nose his legal stick was bigger than the other eight. He was the only legend re- maining on the Court, and the fact that was still breathing irritated most of the mob below. He sat in a small wheelchair in an office on the main floor of the Supreme Court Building. His feet touched the edge of the window, and he strained forward as the noise increased. He hated cops, but the sight of them standing in thick, neat lines was somewhat comforting. They stood straight and held ground as the mob of at least fifty thousand screamed for blood. "Biggest crowd ever!" Rosenberg yelled at the window. He was almost deaf. Jason Kline, his senior law clerk, stood behind him. It was the first Monday in October, the open- ing day of the new term, and this had become a traditional celebration of the First Amendment. A glorious celebration. ------------------------------------------------------------ * mob (noun) a large noisy crowd, especially one that is antry and violent * strain (verb) to try very hard to do something
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Executive Orders, by Tom Clancy http://www.amazon.co.jp/dp/0425158632 1, STARTING NOW THE FBI'S EMERGENCY command center on the fifth floor of the Hoover building is an odd-shaped room, roughly triangular and surpris- ingly small, with room for only fifteen or so people to bump shoulders. Number sixteen to arrive, tieless and wearing casual clothes, was Deputy Assistant Director Daniel E. Murray. The senior watch officer was his old friend, Inspector Pat O'Day. A large-framed, rugged man who raised beef cattle as a hobby at his northern Virginia home - this "cowboy" had been born and educated in New Hampshire, but his boots were custom-made. O'Day had a phone to his ear, and the room was surpris- ingly quiet for a crisis room during a real crisis. A curt nod and raised hand acknowledged Murray's entry. The senior agent waited for O'Day to conclude the call. ---------------------------------------------------- * an odd-shaped room with room for only fifteen or so people to bump shoulders * Number sixteen to arrive was Daniel E. Murray * curt (adj.) using very few words in a way that seems rude
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"What's going on, Pat?" "I was just on the phone with Andrews. They have tapes of the radar and stuff. I have agents from the Wash- ington Field Office heading there to interview the tower people. National Transportation Safety Board will have people there, too, to assist. Initial word, looks like a Japan Airlines 747 kamikaze'd in. The Andrews people say the pilot declared an emergency as an unscheduled KLM flight and drove straight over their runways, hung a little left, and ... well ... " O'Day shrugged. "WFO has peo- ple on the Hill now to commence the investigation. I'm as- suming this one goes on the books as a terrorist incident, and that gives us jurisdiction. " "Where's the ADIC?" Murray asked, meaning the As- sistant Director in Charge of the Bureau's Washington of- fice, quartered at Buzzard's Point on the Potomac River. "St. Lucia with Angie, taking a vacation. Tough luck for Tony. " The inspector grunted. Tony Caruso had got- ten away only three days earlier. "Tough day for a lot of people. The body count's going to be huge, Dan, lots worse'n Oklahoma. ... ------------------------------------------------ * jurisdiction (noun) the legal power to make decisions about something * quarter (verb) to provide someone with a place to sleep and eat, especially soldiers
The Firm, by John Grisham : http://www.amazon.co.jp/dp/044021145X 1 The senior partner studied the resume for the hundredth time and again found nothing he disliked about Mitchell Y. McDeere, at least not on paper. He had the brains, the ambition, the good looks. And he was hungry; with his background, he had to be. He was married, and that was mandatory. The firm had never hired an unmarried lawyer, and it frowned heavily on divorce, as well as womanizing and drink- ing. Drug testing was in the contract. He had a degree in accounting, passed the CPA exam the first time he took it and wanted to be a tax lawyer, which of course was a requirement with a tax firm. He was white, and the firm had never hired a black. They managed this by being secretive and clubbish and never soliciting job applications. Other firms solicited, and hired blacks. This firm recruited, and remained lily white.
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Plus, the firm was in Memphis, of all places, and the top blacks wanted New York or Washington or Chicago. McDeere was a male, and there were no women in the firm. That mistake had been made in the mid-seventies when they recruited the number one grad from Harvard, who happened to be a she and a wizard at taxation. She lasted four turbulent years and was killed in a car wreck. --------------------------------------------- * partner (noun) one of the owners of a business * mandatory (adj.) something that is mandatory must be done because of a rule or law * CPA : Certified Public Accountant * secretive (adj.) unwilling to tell people things * solicit (verb) to ask someone for money, help, or information * turbulent (adj.) a turbulent period or situation is one in which there are a lot of changes
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The Last Class - The Story of a Little Alsatian, by Alphonse Daudet (The Harvard Classics Shelf of Fiction) http://www.bartleby.com/313/4/2.html I WAS very late for school that morning, and I was terribly afraid of being scolded, especially as Monsieur Hamel had told us that he should examine us on participles, and I did not know the first thing about them. For a moment I thought of staying away from school and wandering about the fields. It was such a warm, lovely day. I could hear the blackbirds whistling on the edge of the wood, and in the Rippert field, behind the sawmill, the Prussians going through their drill. All that was much more tempting to me than the rules concerning participles; but I had the strength to resist, and I ran as fast as I could to school. As I passed the mayor's office, I saw that there were people gathered about the little board on which notices were posted. For two years all our bad news had come from that board - battles lost, conscriptions, orders from headquarters; and I thought without stoppng: "What can it be now?"...
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こっちにも基地害が
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Timeline, by Michael Crichton http://www.amazon.co.jp/dp/0345417623/ CORAZON He should never have taken that shortcut. Dan Baker winced as his new Mercedes S500 sedan bounced down the dirt road, heading deeper into the Navajo reservation in northern Arizona. Around them, the landscape was increasingly desolate: distant red mesas to the east, flat desert stretching away in the west. They had passed a village half an hour earlier - dusty houses, a church and a small school, huddled against a cliff - but since then, they's seen nothing at all, not even a fence. Just empty red desert. They hadn't seen another car for an hour. Now it was noon, the sun glaring down at them. Baker, a forty-year-old building con- tractor in Phoenix, was beginning to feel uneasy. Especially since his wife, an architect, was one of those artistic people who wasn't practical about things like gas and water. His tank was half-empty. And the car was starting to run hot. "Liz, " he said, "are you sure this is the way?" Sitting beside him, his wife was bent over the map, tracing the route with her finger. "It has to be, " she said. "The guidebook said four miles be- yound the Corazon Canyon turnoff. " "But we passed Corazon Canyon twenty minutes ago. We must have missed it. " "How could we miss a trading post? " she said. "I don't know. " Baker stared at the road ahead. "But there's nothing out here. Are you sure you want to do this? I mean, we can get great Navajo rugs in Sedona. They sell all kinds of rugs in Sedona. " "Sedona, " she sniffed, "is not authentic. " "Of course it's authentic, honey. A rug is a rug. " "Weaving. " "Okay. " He sighed. "A weaving. "...
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The Burning Wire, by Jeffrey Deaver : http://www.amazon.co.jp/dp/1439156344 1 Sitting in the control center of Algonquin Consolidated Power and Light's sprawling complex on the East River in Queens, New York, the morning supervisor frowned at the pulsing red words on his computer screen. : Critical falure. Below them was frozen the exact time: 11:20:20:003 a.m. He lowered his cardboard coffee cup, blue and white with stiff depic- tions of Greek athletes on it, and sat up in his creaky swivel chair. The power company control center employees sat in front of in- dividual workstations, like air traffic controllers. The large room was brightly lit and dominated by a massive flat-screen monitor, reporting on the flow of electicity throughout the power grid known as the Northeastern Interconnection, which provided electrical service in New York, Pennsylvania, New Jersay and Connecticut. The architecture and decor of the control center were quite modern - if the year were 1960. The supervisor squinted up at the board, which showed the juice arriving from generating plants around the country : steam turbines, reac- tors and the hydroelectric dam at Niagara Falls. In one tiny portion of the spaghetti depicting these electrical lines, something was wrong. A red circle was flashing. : Critical failure ... 'What's up?' the supre visor asked. A gray-haired man with a taut belly under his short-sleeved white shirt and thirty years' experience in the elec- tricity business, he was mostly curious. While critical-incident indicator lights came on from time to time, actual critical incidents were very rare. ...
The Sky Is Falling, by Sidney Sheldon http://www.amazon.co.jp/dp/0446610178/ Prologue CONFIDENTIAL MINUTES TO ALL OPERATION PERSONNEL: DESTROY IMMEDIATELY AFTER READING. LOCATION: CLASSIFIED DATE: CLASSIFIED THERE WERE TWELVE MEN in the heavily guarded underground chamber, representing twelve far-flung countries. They were seated in comfortable chairs set in six rows, several feet apart. They listened intently as the speaker addressed them. ...
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I SHE WAS HURRYING ALONG Pennsylvania Avenue, a block from the White House, shiver- ing in the cold December wind, when she heard the terrifying, earsplitting scream of air-raid sirens and then the sound of a bomber plane over- head, ready to unload its cargo of death. She stopped, frozen, engulfed in a red mist of terror. Suddenly she was back in Sarajevo, and she could hear the shrill whistle of the bomb dropping. She closed her eyes tightly, but it was impossible to shut out the vision of what was happening all around her. The sky was ablaze, and she was deafened by the sounds of automatic-weapons fire, roaring planes, and the wump of deadly mortar shells. Nearby build- ings erupted into showers of cement, bricks, and dust. Terrified people were running in every direc- tion, trying to outrace death. From far, far away, a man's voice was saying, "Are you all right?" Slowly, warily, she opened her eyes. She was back on Pennsylvania Avenue, in the bleak winter sunlight, listening to the fading sounds of the jet plane and the ambulance siren that had triggered her memories. ...
>>26 So readers must buy one more copy. Publishers smile.
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>シドニーシャルダン 芳香剤かい
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シドニー・シェルダンはgood。 今、ARE YOU AFRAID OF THE DARK?を朗読CDを聴きながら読んでいる。 キット・フラナガンさんの声と読み方がすごく良い。 The Sky Is FallingのCDは廉価版が出ているし、カレン・アレンさんの声もすごく良いけど、いかんせんAbridged版。 カレン・アレンさんはインディージョーンズ失われたアークのヒロインです。 The Sky Is Fallingの朗読CDのUnabridged版が欲しいです。 以前、カセットテープではUnabridged版があったみたいだけど。
うん、シドニーシェルダンは知らない単語が一杯出てきて十二分に難しい。 2，3冊買って読んでみたけど、どれも最初の10数ページで挫折した。 ペーパーバックとは呼べないだろうけど、最後まで読み切れたのは小学生向けのDinosaurs Before Darkだけ。 お恥ずかしい。 Dinosaurs Before Darkでも知らない単語（辞書を引いた単語）が82個もあった。 重ねて、お恥ずかしい。
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MASTER OF THE GAME by SIDNEY SHELDON（シドニー・シェルダン）全495ページ Published by Warner Books, New York, 1983 Phoenix Audio presents 12CDs 13hours Read by SHANNON ENGEMANN（シャノン・エングマン）
Macmillan Audio presents Hot, Flat, and Crowded WHY WE NEED A GREEN REVOLUTION- AND HOW IT CAN RENEW AMERICA by THOMAS L. FRIEDMAN Read for You by OLIVER WYMAN Published by Farrar, Straus and Giroux, New York, 2008 PART I Where We Are Chapter 1 Where Birds Don't Fly 邦題：グリーン革命 10数ページで挫折した。
今読んでいるペーパーバック （購入後9年間放っぽっていた） Dove Audio presents (Berkley Books) FAMILY HONOR (Amazon 2002/12/27購入 \813) by Robert B. Parker （ロバート・B・パーカー） Performed by Andrea Thompson （アンドレア・トンプソン） (6CDs 6hours) Published by The Berkley Publishing Group, New York, 2000 朗読CDは購入前は分からなかったけど、1章以降は女性の声で、その前のプロローグ部分は男性の声 どこにも男性の名前は無いけど多分著者が自ら朗読していると思われる
今日は、"Dear John, by Nicolas Sparks"のプロローグだけ読んだ。 Prologue Lenoir, 2006 What does it mean to truly love another? There was a time in my life when I thought I knew the answer: It meant that I'd care for Savannah more deeply than I cared for myself and that we'd spend the rest of our lives together. It wouldn't have taken much. She once told me that the key to hap- piness was achievable dreams, and hers were nothing out of the ordinary. Marriage, family ... the basics. It meant I'd have a steady job, the house with the white picket fence, and a minivan or SUV big enough to haul our kids to school or to the dentist or off to soccer practice or piano recitals. Two or three kids, she was never clear on that, but hunch is that when the time came, she would have suggested that we let nature take its course and allow God to make the decision. She was like that - religious, I mean - and I suppose that was part of the reason I fell for her. But no matter what was going on in our lives, I could imagine lying beside her in bed at the end of the day, holding her while we talked and laughed, lost in each other's arms. It doesn't sould so far-fetched, right? When two people love each other? That's what I thought, too. And while part of me still wants to believe it's possible, I know it's not going to happen. When I leave here again, I'll never come back.
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For now, though, I'll sit on the hillside overlooking her ranch and wait for her to appear. She won't be able to see me, of course. In the army, you learn to blend into your surroundings, and I learned well, because I had no desire to die in some backward foreign dump in the middle of the Iraqi desert. But I had to come back to this small North Carolina mountain town to find out what happened. When a person sets a thing in motion, there's a feeling of unease, almost regret, until you learn the truth. But of this I am certain: Savannah will never know I've been here today. Part of me aches at the tought of her being so close yet so untouchable, but her story and mine are different now. It wasn't easy for me to accept this simple truth, because there was a time when our stories were the same, but that was six years and two lifetimes ago. There are memories for both of us, of course, but I've learned that memories can have a physical, almost living presence, and in this, Savannah and I are different as well. If hers a stars in the nighttime sky, mine are the haunted empty spaces in between. And unlike her, I've been burdened by ques- tons I've asked myself a thousand times since the last time we were together. Why did I do it? And would I do it again? It was I, you see, who ended it. ... "Dear John", by Nicolas Sparks http://www.amazon.com/dp/0446528056
今日、私が読んでるのは、Oxford Bookworms の Kidnapped, by R.L.Stevenson, Retold by Clare Westです。 レベルは、Stage 3 (1,000 headwords) ... まだ 15/57。今日、20ページくらい読み進めたいと思ってます。 1. David meets his uncle It was early in the month of June, 1751, when I shut the door of our house behind me for the last time. All my life I had lived in the quiet little village of Essendean, in the Lowlands of Scotland, where my father had been the dominie, or schoolteacher. But now that he and my mother were both dead, I had to leave the house. The new dominie would soon arrive, and he would teach at the school and live in the dominie's house. So, although I was only seventeen, threre was nowhere for me to live, and no reason for me to stay in Essendean. ... (Oxford Bookworms, Kidnapped, by R.L.Stevenson, Retold by Clare West) http://www.amazon.com/dp/0194230066/
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今日は、まだ Oxford Bookworms, "Kidnapped" だったんですが、37ページから最後まで20ページほど読んで終わりました。 次は、Oxford Bookworms Library, "Treasure Island", by R.L.Stevenson, Retold by John Escot を読もうと思います。 Stage 4 (1400 words), 全73ページ です。今日できれば30ページ読みたいです。 1. The old seaman Squire Trelawney, Dr Livesey, and the others have asked me to write down all I know about Treasure Island. My name is Jim Hawkins, and I was in the story right from the start, back in 17--. I was only a boy then, and it all began at the time my father owned the Admiral Benbow inn, at Black Hill Cove. I remember so clearly the day when the old seaman came to stay - I can almost see him in front of me as I write. He arrived with his sea-chest, a tall, strong man with a cut across one cheek. He sang that old sea song as he walked up to the inn door: Fifteen men on the dead man's chest -- Yo- ho- ho, and a bottle of rum! The old seaman called for a glass of rum, and stood outside, drinking and looking around. Our inn was on the cliffs above Black Hill Cove, and was a wild, lonely place. But the seaman seemed to like it. ... (Oxford Bookworms Library, "Treasure Island", by R.L.Stevenson) http://www.amazon.co.jp/dp/0194237583/
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Oxford Bookworms Library, Treasure Island は、昨日30ページ、今日、残り43ページ読んで読み終わりました。 次は、ラダーシリーズ「Treasure Island」(レベル3, 131ページ)を、以前101ページまで読んで放置していたので、 続きを読んで終わらせたいです。 Chapter 1, The "Admiral Benbow" Inn All these gentlemen, with Squire Trelawney and Dr Livesey, have asked me to write down the whole story of Treasure Island. They have asked me to tell everything except where the Island is. I must not tell where the island is, because part of the treasure is still there. So I take up my pen in the year 17--, and go back to the time when my father kept the "Admiral Benbow" inn. It was then that the brown old seaman first came to live under our roof. I remember him as if it were yesterday, as he came up to the inn door, followed by a man with his sea-chest in a barrow. He was a tall, heavy man with a sabre cut across one cheek and a pigtail falling over the shoulders of his blue coat. ... (ラダーシリーズ "Treasure Island") http://www.amazon.co.jp/dp/4896844971/
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ラダーシリーズ「Treasure Island」は読み終わりました。次は、Penguin Readers, "Saving Private Ryan", Max Allan Collins, Robert Rodat, retold by Jacqueline Kehl(Level 6, 100ページ) を読もうと思います。 PART ONE, ST.LAURENT MILITARY GRAVEYARD, JUNE 6, 1998 Chapter 1, A Family Visit The pathway was lined with hedges high enough to block everything else from view: Grandpa walked quickly ahead of the others through the tunnel of green. Jimmy, the youngest of the two brothers and two sisters, could hardly stay with him. He couldn't believe that an old man like Grandpa could move so fast. Mom, Dad, and the rest of the family were almost running to keep up with him. Suddenly Grandpa stopped. He fell to his knees. "Dad!" Mom called from behind Jimmy, and her voice was full of concern. But Jimmy knew now that Grandpa hadn't fallen; he was ... kneeling. Praying. Soon Jimmy knew why. When he came up beside his grandfather, who was staring at the landscape at the end of the path, Jimmy saw an amazing design. It had surely been created by both God and man: the green grass was God's work, and the sea of white crosses was man's. Jimmy, who was seven, had seen only one other cemetery, and it was much smaller. This one looked like everybody on earth had died and been buried here. As far as he could see, there was only green, white, green, white, green, white. Then Mon and Dad ran to Grandpa, put their arms around him, and held him tightly: Jimmy's brothers and sisters were coming, too, and finally his grandmother. There was an odd expression on her face: Jimmy couldn't tell whether she was happy or sad. ... (Penguin Readers, "Saving Private Ryan") http://www.amazon.co.jp/dp/1405882719/
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Penguin Readers, "A Tale of Two Cities", by Chales Dickens, retold by A.Johnson and G.C.Thornley, (Level 5, 129ページ) http://www.amazon.co.jp/dp/1405862564/ Chapter 1 The Shop of Monsieur Defarge Saint-Antoine was one of the poorest parts of Paris. The children who lived there had the faces and sad voices of old men, and hunger seemed to be written on the face of every man and woman. The shops contained only the worst bits of meat and only the cheapest loaves. Nothing brightened the streets except the shops that sold tools or weapons; these contained the sharpest of bright knives and the most murderous of guns, shining weapons which seemed to be waiting for the time when they would be brought out to do terribel work. A large barrel of wine had been dropped and broken in one of the streets of Saint-Antoine. Red wine began to run over the rough stones. Little pools of it formed in the hollows and cracks among the stones. Immediately, everyone left whatever they were doing, and ran to the spot to collect some of the wine before it disappeared into the ground. Some knelt down and tried to drink it from their hands, but most of it ran through their fingers. Some brought cups and tried to fill them: others dipped cloths in the wine and then put them in their mouths. For a time, in that street of poor and miserable people, the joyful sound of laughter rang out. But soon all the wine was gone; the laughter died down and the people returned to what they had been doing before. A tall man dipped his finger in some mud made red with the wine and wrote on the wall five big letters: BLOOD. The time would come when blood would flow in the streets of Saint- Antoine and would turn its stones red again. The barrel of wine had been on its way to the wine shop at the corner. Outside stood the owner of the shop, Monsieur Defarge. ...
しばらくずっとレスできなくて申し訳なかったですけど、 残念ながら「厨二病全快のラノベみたいなの」で心当たりはないです｡ それと、A Tale of Two Citiesは途中で挫折しました｡ 語彙は難しくなかったんですけど、言い回しが難しくて だんだん読めなくなって途中で興味を失って挫折しました｡ それからずっとまったくページを開く気になれないままです｡
