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TASK 11 (L58-L63)
1. Read the text and find in it the words and word combinations from this list. Supply them with Russian equivalents.
Word List 11
to make fuss over something
in the best of taste
to amount to something
to accuse somebody of doing something
to suppress one’s curiosity
to draft a book
to be in desperate straits
to make one’s fortune
to be no laughing matter
to reward somebody
2. Remember the context in which they were used.
3. Answer the following questions:
1) What did Judy write to Daddy-Long-Legs about “a blight that had fallen over her literary career”? What did she mean writing that she would like some sympathy and why did she ask Daddy not to “reopen the wound”? (L 59)
2) What dream was Judy referring to in L 60? What did she see in it? What did she begin meditating about when she awoke?
3) What subjects did Judy study as a Senior?
4) What did Judy think of Daddy’s Christmas presents? What did she send to him?
5) Why did Judy ask Daddy-Long-Legs for one hundred dollars? What did she intend to do with the money? What do you think of the unfortunate family? Whose position would you support – the daughter’s or the mother’s?
6) Why did Judy throw her novel in the waste basket?
7) Why did Judy write to Daddy that “the good Lord would reward him suitably and he deserved ten thousand years out of purgatory”?
4. Develop these ideas from Judy’s letters:
5. Comment on the following:
6. Find sentences in the text to prove that:
– Judy was a self-critical girl having an ability to judge about herself, rather objectively;
– Judy was a sunny soul and couldn’t remain pessimistic for long;
– Judy was blessed with common sense and a good heart;
– Judy was a frank girl;
– Judy was a sympathetic girl.
7. Act a conversation between Judy and Julia discussing the problem of clothes.
8. Imagine that you are:
– Judy and ask Sally for sympathy after the editor’s criticism of your book;
– Judy and tell Sally what you think of the professor who gives you the most dreadful lessons in Philosophy.
9. Write an essay on one of the topics from Ex. 5.
Dear Mr. Trustee,
Tomorrow is the first Wednesday in the month – a weary day for the John Grier Home. How relieved they'll be when five o'clock comes and you pat them on the head and take yourselves off! Did you (individually) ever pat me on the head, Daddy? I don't believe so – my memory seems to be concerned only with fat Trustees.
Give the Home my love, please – my truly love. I have quite a feeling of tenderness for it as I look back through a haze of four years. When I first came to college I felt quite resentful because I'd been robbed of the normal kind of childhood that the other girls had had; but now, I don't feel that way in the least. I regard it as a very unusual adventure. It gives me a sort of vantage point from which to stand aside and look at life. Emerging full grown, I get a perspective on the world, that other people who have been brought up in the thick of things entirely lack.
I know lots of girls (Julia, for instance) who never know that they are happy. They are so accustomed to the feeling that their senses are deadened to it; but as for me – I am perfectly sure every moment of my life that I am happy. And I'm going to keep on being, no matter what unpleasant things turn up. I'm going to regard them (even toothaches) as interesting experiences, and be glad to know what they feel like. `Whatever sky's above me, I've a heart for any fate.'
However, Daddy, don't take this new affection for the J.G.H. too literally. If I have five children, like Rousseau,* I shan't leave them on the steps of a foundling asylum in order to insure their being brought up simply.
Give my kindest regards to Mrs. Lippett (that, I think, is truthful; love would be a little strong) and don't forget to tell her what a beautiful nature I've developed.
Do you observe the postmark? Sallie and I are embellishing Lock Willow with our presence during the Easter Vacation. We decided that the best thing we could do with our ten days was to come where it is quiet. Our nerves had got to the point where they wouldn't stand another meal in Fergussen. Dining in a room with four hundred girls is an ordeal when you are tired. There is so much noise that you can't hear the girls across the table speak unless they make their hands into a megaphone and shout. That is the truth.
We are tramping over the hills and reading and writing, and having a nice, restful time. We climbed to the top of `Sky Hill' this morning where Master Jervie and I once cooked supper – it doesn't seem possible that it was nearly two years ago. I could still see the place where the smoke of our fire blackened the rock. It is funny how certain places get connected with certain people, and you never go back without thinking of them. I was quite lonely without him – for two minutes.
What do you think is my latest activity, Daddy? You will begin to believe that I am incorrigible – I am writing a book. I started it three weeks ago and am eating it up in chunks. I've caught the secret. Master Jervie and that editor man were right; you are most convincing when you write about the things you know. And this time it is about something that I do know – exhaustively. Guess where it's laid? In the John Grier Home! And it's good, Daddy, I actually believe it is – just about the tiny little things that happened every day. I'm a realist now. I've abandoned romanticism; I shall go back to it later though, when my own adventurous future begins.
This new book is going to get itself finished – and published! You see if it doesn't. If you just want a thing hard enough and keep on trying, you do get it in the end. I've been trying for four years to get a letter from you – and I haven't given up hope yet.
Goodbye, Daddy dear,
(I like to call you Daddy dear; it's so alliterative.)
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