It looks as if I would never be

Compare your anti-choices and find out the list of the least preferred occupations of the group.

P.S. The profession of a teacher is not on the list, is it?

3.3. Fathers and children.

If Wade were not a boy but a girl, would the entire range of his feelings be different? Discuss the possibility in the group.

3.4. Family's but a stage...

Find out more about famous actors/actresses and their children who became actors/actresses in their turn. Is there any link between parental acting and their children's choice of careers? Here is but one example, the Barrymore family, to which Drew Barrymore, a Hollywood actress born in 1975, belongs.

Few families in entertainment history are more acclaimed than the Barrymores — and few are more troubled Drew Barrymore's great-great grandmother, Louisa Lane Drew, was the first to gain real fame, first an actor and then as a theater manager. In the mid-1800s, she married John Drew, an Irish actor who died at 34 of the effects of heavy drinking. Their daughter, Georgianna (known as Georgie), born in 1855, was a beautiful hlond actress who in 1876 wed a dapper British actor named Maurice Barrymore. Known as " The Dimpled Darling, " he was one of the screen's first matinee idols.

It was Georgie and Maurice's three children — Lionel, Ethel, and John — who were known collectively as " The Fabulous Bar­rymores" and who reigned as the most famous members of the family tree (at least until Drew arrived in Hollywood). Lionel (1878—1954), Drew's great uncle, played nearly 200 roles in his film career, with his most memorable parts including the mean Mr. Potter in It's a Wonderful Life. He won a Best Actor Oscar in 1931. Ethel (1879—1959) made her stage debut at 15 and eventually became a Broadway star. Perhaps best known for her 1940 performance in the play The Corn Is Green, she won an Oscar as Best Supporting Actress in 1944 for None But the Lonely Heart. A Broadway theater is named in her honor. John (1882—1942), Drew's grandfather, embodied the Barrymore talent and curse in spades. A matinee idol known as " The Greatest Lover of the Screen, " he was first a noted Shakespearean stage actor, then q dashing romantic lead in films. But he also had a long history of alcoholism and debauchery.

John's daughter Diana (1920—1960), Drew's aunt, followed her father's self-destructive path, dying at 39, another victim of alcoholism death came shortly after she had published her autobiography Too Much, Too Soon.

John's son, John Jr. (born 1932), Drew's father, was handsome and charismatic like his namesake, but had an erratic film career that was eventually overshadowed by alcohol and drugs.

3.5. Project work.

Find more information about theatrical or cinematographic dynasties. Share your findings in class making a 3-minute presentation.

GRANDMOTHER'S EARRINGS

by Debora Case Zisk

I. PRE-READING

1.1. SHARE your ethnic background with the group. You might like to give your friends an idea of the rituals and traditions your parents or grandparents stick to observing.

1.2. DRAW AND COMPARE YOUR family trees. If possible, see which tree is the " tallest", and which happens to be the most fruitful.

1.3 SHARE a fascinating tale that has been passed on from genera­tion to generation in your (or any other) family. Work in small groups.

II. READING

2.1. Understanding the theme.

Here is the beginning of the story, Grandmother's Earrings. Read it paying attention to the words in bold type.

In the tradition of my people, I will introduce myself and tell you my place in the world. I am Eugenia Begay, born of the Bitterwater clan and born into the Red Mountain clan. I live on the Navajo Reservation in Arizona and I have a story to tell about my grandmother's earrings...

What do we learn about the ethnic background of the narrator, Eugenia?

2.2. Reading for pleasure and enrichment.

Read the story to the end now and think why Eugenia turned to be the most deserving daughter. The following words will be helpful to understand the events better.

Hogan — a native dwelling of Navajo Indians.

Den — a home of some animals; also a relaxation room in an American house.

Dawn — the time of day when the first light appears.

Hint — a sign of something.

Sprawl — spread or lie with your arms and legs in a careless way.

Chuckle — laugh quietly.

Leather — animal skin that has been treated specially.

Clack — make a continuous short sound.

Throb — have a regular feeling of pain.

Yearn — have a strong desire for something.

Grandmother was what we call an " elderly, " an old person who spoke only Navajo. " We are not Navajo, " she would say, " we are Dine, the People! We are the only children of the Holy Ones." She said the Spanish invaders gave us the name Navajo, which has nothing to do with who we are.

Grandmother first told me this when I was nine, after my mother, who had a job in Flagstaff, brought me back to live on the reservation. The day Mother dropped me off, I stood in front of a hogan with rain streaming down my face, flattening my hair.

" A hogan is made from the Earth, our mother, " said my grandmother, beside me. " Come inside."

The hogan looked like a hut made of mud and sticks com­pared to the apartment building I'd lived in. There was a wood stove in the center of the hard dirt floor, and its pipe ran straight up through the roof. The rounded walls and low ceiling made the hogan feel safe, like a den a bear might crawl into for the winter. " You can lie down on the sheepskin by the loom and rest, " Grandmother said. I lay down on the thick rug. Trying to understand my grand­mother's Navajo was giving me a headache—Mother and I usually spoke just English. I watched Grandmother move through the light and shadows cast by the kerosene lamp. She looked very different from my mother. Grandmother tied her gray hair in a bun on the back of her head with a white cloth in the Navajo way. Her wrinkled skin showed the beating of the sun and wind, but her eyes didn't look, tirfjd like my mother's. Grandmother's eyes were like glowing coals radiating warmth and light.

Although she moved slowly and stiffly, she reminded me of a song I'd heard as a small child. It went " Beauty in front of me, beauty behind me, beauty beside me, beauty above me, beauty beneath my feet; in beauty I walk..." With those lines echoing in my mind, I fell asleep.

The door of the round Hogan faces east to welcome the rising sun. Just before dawn, Grandmother woke me up. " Go out and run to greet the day! " she said. I pulled my head out from under the blanket. My jeans were stiff with cold and sharp against my skin. There was no hint of sunlight in the black outside.

" You really want me to go out there and run, Grandmother? " I asked. She nodded. " Where am I supposed to go? " I asked.

" Run to the east to greet the sun, " she answered.

" But, Grandmother, " I pleaded, " I don't even know which way is east."

Gently she took my arm and steered me out the door. " That way, " she said. I sighed and began running slowly, struggling to see what was just before my feet in the darkness. Finally, a dim glow of sunlight came over the horizon. I kept running. Just a few more minutes, I thought, and the sun will be up, and I can go home.

Suddenly a huge, lumpy shape loomed up in front of me. My legs tried to spring and jump, but they were too tired, and I tripped and went sprawling across the sand. Looking back, I saw the lump move! " Baaaa, " the sheep complained and waddled away.

My ankle was beginning to throb, and I yearned to be home, but as I struggled to my feet, the sun burst above the horizon, flashing gold, and pink. As if blessed, the land came alive in form and color. Red mesas surrounded a valley dotted with gnarled green cliff rose bushes and sharp prickly pear cactus. Small bird darted from bush to cactus and back again.

Awed by the beauty, I hobbled back to the Hogan. Grandmother was sitting on a stool outside. " What happened? " she asked.

" I guess I tripped over a sheep, " I answered.

She looked closely at my ankle. " Come inside." From a hig& shelf she took down some tins of dried plants and put water in a pot on the stove. Waiting for it to boil, she began to chuckle.

" Grandmother? " I asked.

" You really tripped over a sheep? " She had a deep rolling laugh that tipped her head back. After a few seconds, though, she began to wheeze and gasp for air. I steered her over to a rug and helped her sit. After she got her breath back, Grandmother made a tea from the dried plants, soaked some strips of cloth in it, and wound them around my ankle. Soon the pain left, and I grew eager to run again, to greet every dawn.

Several mornings later, when I came panting back to the hogan just after sunrise, my grandfather was sitting on a stool next to Grandmother. He'd just returned from visiting my uncle's family, and his old, dented pickup was heaped with firewood. He held out his leathery hands. " I'm glad you're home, " he said with shining eyes.

The rest of that day we cleaned the hogan and unloaded firewood. Grandmother explained that we should clean before unloading the wood because otherwise we'd have to unstack the wood inside to clean under it. She handed me a broom and told me to sweep the entire surface of the dirt floor. I moved everything out, swept, and moved it all back in again while Grandmother rested on her stool, giving instructions until the job had been completed properly.

Grandfather drove me into town in his old truck the next morning, and after school he picked me up. We did this every day, sun or snow, rain or wind. Every morning Grandmother gave me a breakfast of mutton stew, corn bread, and goat's milk after my run and before school. One morning she left something unexpected by my plate: a pair of turquoise earrings! Very flat, the sky-blue stones were shaped like bells. They lay on a thin bed of silver, which wrapped up the sides and held them in place. " That silver comes from coins the Mexicans brought in the days of my great-grandmother, " she told me. " My mother gave them to me, and her mother gave them to her."

I held the earrings gently. " Will you give them to my mother? " I asked.

My grandmother frowned. " Your mother thinks they are an old woman's earrings. She thinks she can buy nicer ones in the city."

Grandmother carefully wrapped the earrings in cloth and put them away. I asked her why she'd shown them to me, and she crossed the room stiffly, holding on to my shoulder. " Because I want you to know about them: what they mean and where they come from." She smiled her graceful smile, and I helped her sit down.

I continued to run every day. Fall turned to winter —the mornings were icy and black, and the biting wind tore through my clothes. Then winter turned to spring, and the mornings became warmer. Finally, school was out, and the hot summer mornings began. I ran through three more circles of seasons, getting stronger and running faster, but my grandmother moved more slowly and painfully each day.

One day I came home from school, and Grandfather told me that my grandmother had died. Her sisters and nieces arrived the next day to help him put everything in order. Clacking like geese, they divided up Grandmother's jewelry. They surrounded Grandfather and asked him for the old earrings, but he shrugged and said he didn't know where they were. Finally, they all left, saying they'd be back soon to help him. When we were alone, I asked, " Grandfather, where are the old earrings Grandmother was going to pass on? "

He said, " I really don't know, child. Before your grandmother died, she said she'd make sure that the earrings go to the most deserving daughter."

The hogan was a mess from all the coming and going. To honor my grandmother, I decided to clean it the way she'd taught me. I moved everything out and then began to unstack the woodpile by the stove to sweep under it. When I got to the bottom, something shiny caught my eye. I reached down and picked up my grandmother's precious antique earrings.

Grandfather walked behind me and said softly, " I know our grandmother wanted you to have them. I just didn't know where she'd left them. She must have known that you'd clean for her the way she taught you."

The next day my mother returned from Flagstaff for the funeral, and when she hugged me, she noticed the earrings dangling from my ears. " My mother chose wisely, " she said. " Do you want to come back and live in the city now that your grandmother's gone? "

As I shook my head, I could feel the earrings swing against my cheeks. " I'll stay here with Grandfather, if that's O.K." My mother nodded and promised to visit us more often.

I still live on the reservation, and now on special occasions I wear these earrings with pride. Some day I'll have a daughter and I'll raise her the way Grandmother raised me. When she's old enough, I'll give the earrings — and my grandmother's story — to her.

2.3. True or false?

Eugenia and her mother lived on the reservation.

Grandmother looked much different from Eugenia's mother.

From the start, Eugenia was eager to run to greet the dawn..

One day, Grandmother showed the girl a pair of grass-green earrings.

When Grandma died, her jewelry was divided amond relatives.

The earrings were supposed to become Eugenia's possession anyway.

After Grandma's death, Eugenia could not stay in the hogan any longer.

Those three years made Eugenia understand her ethnic identity better.

2.4. Understanding points of view.

Scan the story and try to explain what the characters meant by saying so.

" We are not Navajo, we are Dine, the People! "

" A hogan is made from the Earth, our mother."

" She thinks she can buy nicer ones in the city."

" She made sure that the earrings go to the most deserving daughter."

" She must have known that you'd clean for her the way she taught you."

" My mother chose wisely."

" When she's old enough, I'll give the earrings to her."

2.5. Prepositions in focus.

The song Eugenia remembered goes " Beauty in front of me, beauty behind me, beauty beside me, beauty above me, beauty beneath my feet..." (Prepositions are important because they provide more variety for the speaker.) Trink of as many verbs as you can to match the prepositions/adverbs below.

In front of: sit,,,,

Above: fly,,,,

Beneath: grow,,,,

Beside: stand,,,,

Behind: leave,,,,

2.6. Similes.

Make sure you can cpmplete the following similes using the story.

The hogan looked like

Grandmother's eyes were like

The old woman's movements were like

The old man's hands were like

The earrings were shaped like

The old women clacked like

2.7. More comparisons.

Colours are normally associated with the natural world phenomena. Our world is a colorful place indeed. Check if you can invent some simple comparisons? e.g. coal-black, etc.

2.8. Animal farm idioms.

Nature is also the realm of animals and birds. Humans hardly ever understand what they say, but we often refer to animal world realities in everyday speech. Here are some idioms. Fill in the gaps with appropriate names of animals and birds.

Think of sentences in which the idioms can shine.

2.9. Storing vocabulary.

Paraphrase the following using the expressions from the story.

1. The pictures of the past came as fresh as ever in my memory.

2. Listening to him, I remerribered another person say the same words.

3. The task is tiring, and I am not at all pleased to have to do it.

4. They brought up several children, all of whom found their way in life.

5. The shining object in the grass attracted my attention at once.

6. It seems he is not conscientious enough to be so honored.

7. Grown up people sometimes look at kids' play with dissatisfaction.

8. With every day, she became more willing to achieve her aim.

9. If it is an illegal deal, it's better to keep away from it.

10. In the end, we'll have to confront this problem anyway.

Expressions to choose from: to come alive, to remind of something, to grow eager to do something, to frown (at), to face something, to give a headakhe, to have nothing to do with, to deserve, to raise someone, to catch somebody's eye.

2.10. Grammar in focus.

Finished with vocabulary, we can proceed to grammar studies. Pay attention to the participial constructions that can surely make your ideas about Eugenia's experiences more varied and expressive. Complete the following sentences.

Unimpressed with the Hogan, Eugenia

Tired with Grandmother's Navajo, the girl

Startled by her Grandmother, Eugenia

Awed by the beauty of the land around her, she

Instructed by her Grandma, the girl

Wrapped up in silver, the earrings

Hidden by Grandmother, the earrings

Changed by her three years on the reservation, Eugenia

2.11. More practice.

When Eugenia didn't know what Grandmother wanted her to do, she asked about it politely. Students are supposed to be polite, too. are also supposed to realize well what they are doing in class. Speak about your in-class activities, using the table below.

III. POST-READING

3.1. Feelings.

Describe the way the characters might feel about the life on the reservation:

1. Eugenia, when she first arrived at the Hogan;

2. Eugenia's mother when she began to work in Flagstaff;

3. Eugenia's Grandmother when she talked to the girl about Indian life;

4. Eugenia when she had lived there for three years.

3.2. Roleplay: mothers and daughters.

In groups of three, discuss the problem of staying in the hogan. One of you is Eugenia who does not like the idea of staying there.

3.3. Studying native American wisdom.

In small groups, discuss the message of the following proverbs and words of wisdom that Native American people created.

A good chief gives, he does not take.

A man must make his own arrows.

Not every sweet root gives birth to sweet grass.

It is easy to be brave from a distance. Beware of the man who doesn't talk, and of the dog that doesn't bark.

Don't judge any man until you have walked two moons in his moccasins.

Speak wisdom, not knowledge. Knowledge is of the past, wisdom is of the future.

3.4. Project work: my family Saga.

Research your own family background: Draw up your family tree, and say what wonderful people your ancestors were. We hope you can go back as far as at least three generations. Here are some branches of a famous family tree. Is this family — well, familiar? Whose names are supposed to be there in empty spaces?

LAST WORDS

by David Hill

I. PRE-READING

1.1. SHARE some of the bitter recollections of your young years (if it's not too painful, of course). We all grieve at one time in our lives. Why did you?

1.2. DISCUSS a newspaper article or a story you heard about an accident. Share your feelings about the event.

1.3 FIND a so-called sob story in a popular magazine. Do you read them? Do you not? Please, share your views in small groups. I

II. READING

2.1. Understanding the main idea.

The title of the story suggests the idea of some unhappy accident, doesn't it? Read the first two paragraphs of the story and say what 'awful thing' may have happened in Lara's family.

Lara turned the corner onto her street. Phew! Another Wednesday nearly over! Wednesday always started mad and scrambly for Lara, with a dancing lesson before school. This morning, she'd gone rushing off late, without even saying good-bye to her dad.

Hey, neat! she thought as she recognized the car in the driveway. Nana and Granddad are here. She felt a bit surprised. Her grandparents lived out of town, near the beach. They usually visited only on weekends. Lara went inside to say hi. But Nana was crying when she met Lara in the back porch. And the moment she saw her mother, sitting so white-faced at the dining room table with Granddad holding her, Lara somehow knew the awful thing that had happened.

2.2. Reading for understandung and compassion.

Now read the story to the end. Think about the most frustrating thought Lara had for weeks and weeks after the accident, and try to find an explanation to it.

The following words will be helpful to understand the events better.

Scrambly — with a lot of rushing around

Dazzle — stop somebody from seeing properly

Pound — beat quickly (about one's heart)

Muck (about) — mess around

Drag — go slowly, move with difficulty

Slash — cut violently with a knife

Bump — knock against something

Insulating tape — material to cover electric wires

Waterproof — not allowing water to go through

While Nana tried to tell her about the truck driver dazzled by the winter sun, and the slippery road, and how her father wouldn't have felt a thing, one thought pounded through Lara's head. I never said good-bye to him this morning. I never said good-bye.

Her father's funeral went past in a blur. For the next month, Lara and her mother mostly stayed with Nana and Granddad in their house by the sea. Each day they were there, Lara went for long walks on the beach. Sometimes she walked with her mum, holding her hand hard. Other times she went by herself. Every time she walked the beach alone, Lara expected her dad to appear. He'd come strolling over the sand toward her and give her a hug. Then they could say good-bye properly. But her father didn't come. When her mum finally returned to her job in town, it was the school holidays. So Lara stayed on at her grandparents'. She helped Nana in the garden. She mucked about with Granddad in his workshop. And she walked on the beach. Usually, she was the only one there. By now, Lara knew the beach as well as she knew her own bedroom at home. She knew the sand hills with their spiky grass. The stretch near the creek mouth, where waves rose up like walls and slammed onto the shore.

And she knew the weird things waves left behind. Bottles.

Yellow string. Pieces of wood shaped like animals or birds. Old shoes -

Always single sandals, never a pair. Lora imagined people all over the world hopping around on one foot, looking for their missing shoes.

Two bottles had messages inside. She supposed one of them had been a message, anyway, but the paper was so faded from the sun, and from water leaking under the screw-top, that Lara couldn't read a word. The other bottle's message was quite clear — a girl's name and an address about a hundred miles up the coast. So Lara wrote a letter saying who she was, and where she'd found the bottle, and inviting the other girl to write back. For the first time since her father was killed, she felt interested in something. But the rest of the holidays dragged by, and no reply came.

At the start of the new semester, Lara went home with her mother. It was hard being there, with so many of her dad's things still around them. Lara thought of him all the time. She wished she could somehow say a proper good-bye.

The midsemester break came. She and her mum stayed at Nana and Granddad's. It was a wild, stormy weekend, with the sea booming on the shore. When her mother went back to work on Monday, Lara had already spent two days inside, watching rain slash at the windows.

After lunch on Monday, the rain thinned. Lara strode down to the beach, wind slapping her jacket and blowing hair across her face. The sand was scattered with driftwood, string, and more old shoes.

And a bottle. A green bottle, lying on its side with seaweed draped around it. Lara pushed it with her foot as she walked past. Then she stopped. Inside the bottle was a piece of paper rolled into a little cylinder. Hey, maybe that girl's written me a letter after all! Lara thought. A letter by sea mail! The top of the bottle was screwed tight. A coat of glue covered it, keeping water out. The paper inside the green glass looked perfectly dry.

Back at her grandparents' house, Lara noticed a strange umbrella on the porch. She could hear talking and laughing from the living room. She didn't want to face visitors, so she slipped into her granddad's workshop, found a knife on his bench, and started chipping at the glue that sealed the top of the bottle. The glue peeled away. Lark pulled off the last piece and began unscrewing the top. It turned, grittily at first, then smoothly. Lara put it down on Granddad's workbench, beside the knife. As she tilted the bottle and shook out the little cylinder of paper, Lara realized her heart was bumping. Was it a letter from the girl she'd written to? From someone else? Someone she knew, maybe? She unrolled the paper.

It took her just half a second to read the message. There was no name, no address, just three carefully printed words. Three words in black letters, faded slightly after weeks or months of floating under the wide skies, through the seas. As Lara read, a gasp came from her throat. A gasp that turned into a sob. She pushed the paper into the pocket of her jeans. Then she sat beside her granddad's workbench, laid her head on her arms, and cried as if she'd never stop.

Finally, she wiped her face on the sleeve of her jacket, took the message from her pocket, and read the three words again. She sat looking straight ahead for a while, then began searching through the drawers of the workbench.

In the second drawer, she found a scribble pad and a ballpoint. On the pad, she wrote her own message. It was just one word longer than the message in the bottle. Lara sat with the two messages in front of her, looking at them both. Finally she slipped the first one back into her pocket. She rolled her message up, dropped it into the green bottle, and screwed on the top. She took a roll of Granddad's red plastic insulating tape — she knew he wouldn't mind — and wound it around the top till she felt sure it was waterproof. Red tape and a green bottle: it should be easy to spot.

Back on the beach, the tide was turning. The waves broke farther down the sand, drawing themselves back into the sea. Gulls hovered and bent in the wind. Lara walked to the edge of the waves. She drew back her arm and threw the bottle as hard as she could. It whuff-whuff-whuffed through the air, splashed under the water, then bobbed bright and red-topped to the surface. For a moment, it seemed that a wave would carry it back to shore. Then the tide seized it, and it began drifting out toward deeper water. For half an hour, Lara stood watching the red top dip and rise among the waves, till she couldn't see it anymore. Then she turned and started back to her grandparents' house.

Good-bye, she thought. Good-bye, bottle, and whoever sent it to me. I'll probably never meet you or know you. But thanks for what you said. And thank you for letting me say something. Letting me say good-bye to my dad. I'll miss him for as long as I live, but I've said good-bye now and I feel heaps better. Lara touched the paper in her jeans pocket. She didn't need to read it anymore. It was just three words, after all: I LOVE YOU.

Her own message was only a few letters longer. Over the sea to some other beach, maybe to some other person who had been sad and lonely, it was floating. I LOVE YOU, TOO.

2.3. True or false?

That Wednesday was an ordinary day for Lara.

Lara was virtually shaken by the tragic news.

Mucking about in the workshop was just out of habit.

Finding messages in bottles was not quite amusing.

The message in the green bottle was addressed to Lara.

The write-back did not come easy for the girl.

2.4. Storing vocabulary.

Translate the following using the expressions from the story.

1. Мы решили, что лучше будет отправить письмо обычной почтой

2. Учась в школе она интересовалась только модными журналами

3. Он был настолько зол, что находился прямо в каком-то ослеплении.

4. Рыдать нечего, надо снова браться за дело. У нас всё по­лучится.

5. Мы обыскали всю квартиру, но так и не нашли нужной книги.

6. Я скажу, что прическа у нее сегодня самая что ни на есть странная.

7. Все события предыдущих дней слились в неясную картину.

8. Этот механизм надежно защищен от попадания пыли и воды.

9. Она в совершенном восхищении от красоты этой старинной вещи.

Choose from the following: to dazzle by, in a blur, weird, to be interested in, by mail, to search through, to sob, (water) proof

2.5. Colloquial English in focus.

In the story, we come across some interjections commonly used in colloquial English. Do you feel you can handle the most widely-used ones with a measure of competence? Try to interpret the meaning of the following interjections.

Hey! — asking for someone's attention.

Gee!

Ouch!

Oops.'

Hush!

Wow!

Gosh!

Phew!

Oh, boy!

2.6. Grammar.

Lara wished she could have met her father to say good-bye. What do you think she wished she had been able to do? Say about it using the following beginning:

Lara wished she had been able to

After the accident, Lara wished she could have

2.7. Complex object in focus.

Imagine we are watching a movie showing all the events described in the story. The story does read like a movie, doesn't it? Make some commentary on what you are watching on the screen:

We can see Lara do / doing ________

play / playing________

walk /walking________

2.8. More grammar.

Lara needed help and emotional support that her family might have failed to provide. What did Lara expect others to do? Speak about it using the infinitive construction.

III. POST-READING

3.1. Feelings.

Work in pairs. Think of various conversations relatives and friends might like to have with Lara after that tragic event. Try to figure out the ways different people would try to give her support and consolation.

3.2. Roleplay: providing support.

Act out a session of group therapy. One of the students is supposed to be having an emotional problem. Try to listen to her/him and find the ways - or, rather, the words - to help relieve the frustration Be responsive, caring and full of understanding, just like real teachers should be.

3.3. Project work: stress & human psychology.

In 1967, two research scientists at the University of Washington developed a rating form that ranked stressful events on a point scale. Each stressful event was assigned a value in terms of its severity. Study the " scale impact" of some events, and discuss the table in the group. Do you find these data convincing?

The Holmes -

Rahe Readjustment

Rating Scale

THE QUIRIN'S SECRET

by Nancy Springer

I. PRE-READING

1.1 SAY if you ever had small but meaningful things in your life that made you quite happy — a toy, perhaps, or a token. Your fellow students would like to hear about it, wouldn't they?

1.2 DISCUSS the things that bring you most joy — a view of a clear forest river, or, maybe, a Marlboro Man ad in a magazine. Make a list of the things you agree on with your partner.

1.3. HOLD a small discussion on minerals. Do you know anything about their alleged magic powers? Share knowledge or hearsay with your small group.

II. READING

2.1. Understanding the title.

The title of the story, The Quirin's Secret, implies some mystery to be unraveled. The word itself, quirin, is enigmatic. In fact, it might mean a stone with magical powers. What do you think the story will tell about?

2.2. Reading for pleasure and enrichment.

Read the story and answer the question: Was it magic that helped Arin in the end?

The following words will be helpful to understand the events better.

Shimmer— shine with a soft trembling light.

Fling — throw with a lot of force.

Glimmer — shine with alight that is not bright.

Yawn — open your mouth wide, sleepily.

Give forth— produce and spread.

Rim — the outside edge of something circular.

Wistful – feeling rather sad and thoughtful.

Content —happy and satisfied.

Back when the world was young and full of wonders, just for joy a boy named Arin went up the mountain one day. In the heathery meadow above his village he found a lapwing's nest and crouched to look at seven freckled, pointed eggs. There amid the eggs lay the quirin.

It was a stone no bigger than the lapwing's eggs, round on top and flat underneath and so shimmery that Arin knew it was magical. It glimmered all colors and no color that anyone could name. He picked it up and couldn't feel it in his hand. It was the quirin, the sooth stone. Laid on the head of anyone who was sleeping, it would make that person tell secrets.

Arin held the quirin in his hand, and his heart beat like a bird's wings. Now he would learn the truth. He would prove what he'd often dreamed, that he wasn't just a cowherd's son; he was a king's son! Or a knight's son at least. His parents had found him on the mountain when he was a baby, perhaps. He lived in a leaky hut by mistake. Magic came to those in need, didn't it? The quirin had come to him because he needed to find his father the king.

He slipped the quirin into his pocket, where it lay hot and weightless like an angel's feather. He walked carefully down the mountain, feeling the magic glimmering with every step. Tonight he would learn the truth and tomorrow he would journey over the mountain and far away to where the golden cities waited.

" Arin, gather kindling, " his mother called to him.

" Arin, bring the cows up from the water, " his father told him.

" Arin, find me clay to play with, " his little sister begged him.

Arin did what they asked without complaining. It was only for one more day.

There wasn't quite enough to eat at supper. Arin shared without complaining. It was only for one more day.

The hut was too small for beds. When day turned to night Arin unrolled his sleeping mat like the others and lay on dirt floor with his sister on one side, his parents on the other it was only for one more day. Besides, tonight he wouldn't sleep. Tonight he would find out the name of his father the king. Then he'd never sleep on the floor again.

In his pocket he could feel the quirin's heat.

He lay awake and waited. He heard his sister's breathing soften as she slept. The village voices hushed, but insects were talking. Up in the mountain pines, an owl spoke like a ghost. The night was dark, dark. Somewhere far away wolves sang.

When Arin heard the wolves, he knew it was the bottom of night, when sleepers lie deepest in their dreams. Careful to make no sound, he sat up and pulled the quirin from his pocket.

It gave forth a whisper of pearly light, lying like a baby moon of all colors and no color in his hand. By its glow mother looked young, silky, her hair parted into two smooth dark wings. He laid the quirin between those wings and sat by her, listening for her secret.

Her mouth moved. She spoke in her sleep.

" I love him more than anyone, " she whispered, " and worry about him more than anyone. He is my son, Arin. Today he was content, but why does he so often seem unhappy? He is a fine arrow of a boy who will be able to do anything. Why does he look beyond the mountain and sigh? "

She fell silent. Arin waited a little longer — perhaps she would say again that she loved him. But then he reminded himself that he had a journey to plan. It must be that his mother didn't know the name of his father the king. Carefully he lifted the quirin from her forehead.

By the stone's magical light, his father looked handsome, hair curled back from his brow like a tawny crown. Arin placed the quirin under the rim of that crown, on his father's forehead. He knelt, listening for his father's secret. Without opening his eyes, his father spoke. " That boy of mine, Arin, he's dreaming again. He tends cows, he's dreaming of horses. He finds clay, he's dreaming of gold. I'm his father; I wish I could make him happy, but I can't. He has to learn for himself that happiness is in his hand."

Arin's father stopped speaking. Arin knelt, waiting a long time, wanting to hear again the wistful way his father had said his name, wanting his father to whisper more of the secret of happiness, wanting his father — but wait, wasn't he a king's son after all? Was he going to have to herd cows and gather kindling the rest of his life?

At such a thought he wanted to fling the quirin out the door. If this was the truth, he didn't want to hear it.

But he had to lift the quirin carefully so as not to awaken his father. And when he held it in his hand once more, he couldn't throw it away. It shimmered so much like an angel's wing. In its light his little sister's face looked as wise as that of a saint.

He laid the quirin gently on her forehead.

She opened her soft mouth and said, " Today the sky was as blue as Daddy's eyes, and the heather bloomed and Mommy wore some in her hair, and Arin brought me clay, and I am so happy."

She smiled in her sleep but said nothing more. Arin waited awhile longer, then lifted the quirin from her forehead and slipped it into his pocket. He lay down and stared into the darkness.

He hadn't noticed the sky as blue as his father's eyes or heather in his mother's hair. He lay thinking until a pearly glow took away the/darkness, the no-color, all-colors glimmer of dawn. His mother stirred, yawned, sat up, and smiled at him " Good morning, sleepyhead." He hadn't slept. Yet he smiled back at her.

" It looks like a fine day."

He nodded.

" Let your father sleep a little longer. Go for water, Arin."

He got up, took the buckets, and started toward the river. But when he got outside, he stopped and looked around at the clay-tawny, sky-blue, heather-green world shimmering with dew.

Only for one more day? No. All days. Every day Wing beats sounded. Against the sky Arin saw a bird's white breast and crown of feathers. It flew within his arm's reach, landed on the ground at his feet, folded its glossy wings, and looked up at

him.

He knew what it wanted. Magic is meant for those in need.

" Here, lapwing." He pulled the quirin from his pocket, crouched down, and offered it in his open hand. The lapwing called out one wild note, took the stone in its beak, and flew. In a moment it was gone over the mountaintop.

Arin stood looking after it for a long time. But even though the quirin was gone, he still held happiness in his hand. His heart beat like angel wings with gladness that he wouldn't have to leave his family. It would be a good day for tending cows and finding some more clay, the best red clay, for his sister. He breathed deeply, loving the scent of heather in the air. The sky was as blue as his father's kind eyes, the air as soft as his mother's smile.

2.3. True or false?

Arin hoped the stone would help him to find out who he really was.

It was a revelation for Arin to know about his parents' love for him.

Arin didn't use the stone as he was content with what he had.

Arin's parents neither understood nor suspected anything about him.

The life of the family was hard but they were satisfied with it.

Arin was secretly disappointed that his dream hadn't come true.

2.4. Understanding points of view.

Scan the story and try to explain what the characters meant (even if they were talking in their sleep).

" Magic is meant for those in need."

" Why does he look beyond the mountain and sigh?

" He finds clay, he's dreaming of gold."

" He has to learn for himself that happiness is in his hand."

" Only for one more day? No. All days. Every day."

" It would be a good day for tending cows."

2.5. Grammar.

Laid on the forehead of anyone who was sleeping, the quirin would make that person tell secrets. Say what the quirin made the characters do, using the table below.

2.6. More grammar.

Consulting the text if necessary, complete the following comparisons. They are charming and magical, aren't they?

e.g. As sharp as my kid sister's tongue...

As blue as... As nice as...

As soft as... As wise as...

As sharp as... As wondrous as...

As poisonous as... As frightening as...

As miraculous as... As transparent as...

Think of and produce some other comparisons, equally striking.

2.7. Metaphors.

Arin's mother speaks beautifully about her son: " He is a fine arrow of a boy..." It is a metaphor, and a very effective way to create a striking image. We see at once that Arin is a young, slim, swiftly-moving creature. How do you see the other characters of the story?

Arin's father is a________ of a man.

Arin's mother is a ________of a woman.

Arin's sister is a ________of a girl.

Can you describe other people? Do you remember having a tutor who was a pretty blackboard of a teacher? Trying not to offend anyone, think of as many fresh metaphors as you can.

2.8. Vocabulary in stone.

It's not easy, but let us become more stone-wise. Find an appropriate definition from the list below to the following stones: jade, onyx, emerald, diamond, ruby, opal, sapphire, turquoise.

1. A white milky stone with changing colors in it.

2. A bright blue or greenish-blue stone.

3. A transparent bright blue stone.

4. A dark red transparent stone.

5. A transparent bright green stone.

6. A hard stone, usually green.

7. A very hard stone of no particular color.

8. A stone with lines of different color in it.

Do you have your " own" stone? Have you ever been in possession of any precious or semi-precious stone? Share your a-sione-ishing story with the group.

III. POST-READING

3.1. Feeling or no feeling?

Arin's attitude towards his family environment changes in the story. Do you think it's because he is so unfeeling, self-centered? In pairs, find as many reasons as you can for Arin's not leaving home.

3.2. Practising idiomatic speech.

Idioms can come in handy when telling the story of Arin and his family. Match some with their Russian equivalents.

3.3. Dreams, dreams, dreams...

Have you ever wished to be born into a different reality? If you had a magic stone of some sort, whatwould you like to ask for? Make a list of the five things you'd ask for. Explain your choice.

3.4. Listen-in.

Listen to the Beatles singing She's Leaving Home. Make sure you understand the lyrics well. Discuss the message in class. You might also compare the translations (there are at least two) of the lyrics into Russian.

SHE'S LEAVING HOME

Wednesday morning at five o'clock as the day begins

Silently closing their bedroom door

Leaving the note that she hoped would say more

She goes down to the kitchen clutching her handkerchief

Quietly turning the back door key stepping outside she is free.

She (We gave her most of our lives)

Is leaving (Sacrificed most of our lives)

Home (We gave her everything money could buy)

She's leaving home after living alone

For so many years. Bye, bye.

Father snores as his wife gets into her dressing gown

Picks up the letter that's lying there

Standing alone at the top of the stairs

She breaks down and cries to her husband: daddy our baby's gone.

Why should she treat us so thoughtlessly

How could she do this to me.

She (We never thought of ourselves)

Is leaving (never a thought of ourselves)

Home (We struggled hard all our lives to get by)

She's leaving home after living alone

For so many years. Bye, bye...

3.5. Project work: a music-box of a classroom.

Bring more songs that really tell stories. Listen to them to your heart's content and discuss them afterwards.

DISCUSSION (STORIES 1-5)

MEET THE AUTHOR

In the group, arrange a readers' conference. Invite the authors to participate: Jennifer Adams, Judy Silverman, Debora Zisk, David Hill, and Nancy Springer. Ask them as many profound questions as you can about the stories they wrote for Cricket. Three million Wheres, five million Hows, and seven million Whys are not unwelcome.

MEET THE PROTOTYPE

The characters of the four stories — Bessie, Wade, Eugenia, and Lara — might have had prototypes in real life. Say if you met someone who once got into similar circumstances.

MAGIC STONE RITES

Use a piece of chalk (this very precious classroom stone) as a quirin, just like Arin used his quirin back in in sleep.

GROUP THERAPY SESSION

One of your mates has a problem related to family relationships. If s/he agrees to share it with you all, give her/him emotional support. Be empathetic and considerate.

FAMILY TREE GARDEN

Using the products of your previous project work, take an excursion to the Garden where your Family Trees grow. Enjoy watching exotic fruit and slender branches. Don't forget to trim the trees so that everyone could marvel at them in wonder and admiration.

LISTEN-IN

Bring popular songs recordings to class and talk about the values celebrated in them. Share your impressions both as listeners and as future teachers.

VISIT A MUSEUM

Use the materials gathered while doing project work on famous dynasties. Open an exhibition dedicated to the people, prepared by the people, displayed for the people.

A STUDY OF HERALDRY

Working individually, design a coat-of-arms for your family. Just like in the days long gone. Display all of them in class.

CALIFORNIA GOES HUNTING

by Karen Cushman

I. PRE-READING

1.1 SHARE your family history with the group. Say whether you, together with your family, had to move east or west once in your life. Did it take you long to adjust to a new environment?

1.2 DISCUSS the problem of living in a foreign country for a period long enough to start thinking about home. Do you think you can (or could) combat homesickness? Are you (were you) cultural shockproof? Work in pairs.

1.3 SHARE your visions of life in the Wild West sometime in the 1850s. Say where your ideas mostly come from: movies, books, or — well, other movies?

II. READING

2.1. Understanding the title.

Here is the title of the story, California Goes Hunting. Do you think it's a tall tale in the style of Nutty Bumppo cycle? Tell your partner what you expect to read about in the story.

2.2. Strange Names.

Read the introduction to the story. Think about the names of children. What can one say about their parents?

California Morning Whipple's parents have always had a hankering to move west from their home in Massachusetts. When California's pa dies, her mama packs the whole family — California, her brother Butte, and her sisters Prairie and Sierra — and heads to the gold fields of California to manage a boardinghouse in Lucky Diggins. But California, who would much rather be called Lucy, is desperate to return east and live with her gram and grampop, where life is safe and civilized.

2.3. Reading for pleasure and enrichment.

Now read on. Be prepared to say if your idea of California's personality was right.

The following words will be helpful to understand the events better.

Relish — enjoy the thought of something yet to happen

Shove (into) — put something somewhere carelessly

Fret (about) — feel worried about things, usually

Spook —unimportant frighten, make someone feel afraid

Venture— risk doing something

Streak – a part of somebody's character

If you want to eat, missy, you are going to have to find a way to put food on this table, " said Mama, sweeping at my feet with her broom.

Lord-a-mercy, I thought, fixing Mama with my fiercest glare. Don't I do enough what with helping to cook and wash for all those hairy strangers in the bunks in the back tent? Don't I teach Prairie her letters, her numbers, and a little about the history of Massachusetts each morning? Isn't that enough?

" Not nearly enough, " said Mama, as if reading my mind. She snatched Ivanhoe from my hands and tossed it into the soapy water of the laundry tub. With a yelp I fished it out and spread it in the sunshine to dry. I expected it would soon be as good as new except for some wrinkled pages, but I decided I'd better take Mama seriously.

" What do you want me to do, Mama? "

" Take this shotgun and shoot us some rabbits or a squirrel. " But Mama, I can't go shooting little animals! " I didn't relish the idea of shooting living things. I was much too sensitive, and the powder would make my hands stink.

" Don't Mama me. What do you think stew is? And bacon? Meat. From animals. Butte can't hunt, now he has his job with Mr. Scatter, so you will have to do it."

" Couldn't we just buy meat from the store? "

" One, Mr. Scatter doesn't get much meat. Two, what he does get is too darned expensive. Three, I have a perfectly able daughter with a perfectly good trigger finger."

" Prairie doesn't do anything but watch Sierra and pull weeds. She could hunt."

" Prairie is only six. It will have to be you. I can't feed three hungry boarders and the five of us on beans and the bits of salt pork and dried beef Bean Belly Thompson hauls in from Sacramento every few weeks. Now go."

Mama shoved the shotgun into my hands and pushed me out the door quick as a cat.

My pa had taught me and Butte to shoot back home, but I never took to it, preferring a book any day to the jolt and noise and smell of shooting. Now Pa was dead, and we had come west and Mama was trying to make a westerner out of me.

The first morning I sat on a stump outside the tent and fretted. The place was so wild, just trees and hills and tents. I could almost see wild Indians coming up the Sacramento River to the Yuba and up the Yuba to the Forks and on to Lucky Diggins, right to where I sat on the stump with a gun in my lap.

Near noon I saw a movement in the dry grass. It looked like feathers. Indians! I bolted into the tent.

" I had to come back, Mama, " I said. " I saw feathers and..."

" I know, I know, " said Mama. " They were wild Indians and you were in imminent danger of being captured and living the rest of your life on acorns and roasted grasshoppers."

" But Mama..."

" But Mama nothing. That was most likely a wild turkey you let get away." Mama sighed. " Go feed Prairie and Sierra."

That night we had no meat for supper. I, in fact, had no supper at all and wouldn't, so Mama said, until I brought home something to eat.

I watched the rest eat their beans and biscuits. " If I were with Gram, " I muttered, " I would be eating chicken from Larrabee's farm or store-bought bacon."

Mama said nothing.

The second day I sat three hours on the tree stump with the gun in my lap, imagining myself as the dashing Ivanhoe's secret love, as beautiful as Rowena and as plucky as Rebecca but much smarter and better read.

Suddenly there was a rustling in the grass. " Mama! " I ran for the tent. " There's something out there. Sounded like a grizzly or..."

Mama banged the skillet down on the cook stove. " Lord, you are the spookiest child. When you were little, wind spooked you. Lantern light blinking in the window spooked you. The clown at Hallelujah Purdy's Circus and Hippodramatic Exposition spooked you." She picked up a spoon and waved it at me. " Now you're near grown up, you've gotten worse instead of better. Grizzlies! Indians! Won't shoot a gun! Want to lie around with your nose in a book! What is to become of you, girl? " Mama plopped a gob of bacon grease into the skillet and shook her head. " Every tub has to learn to stand on its own bottom sometime."

I got no supper again, but I must allow that in a curious way I was proud of myself. I might starve to death, but I'd go a NeW Englander..

The third day I ventured off the stump. I watched a blue jay gather buckeyes from a tree overhanging the ravine, followed a lizard as it skittled from sunny spot to sunny spot, made shadow pictures of a fox, a duck, and a swan on the canvas of the tent.

Finally, hungry and afraid to push Mama any further, I closed nay eyes, pulled the trigger a few times, and, lo and behold, shot a squirrel. It was blasted near to pieces and no good for anyone to eat except a dog or a coyote, but I took it into the tent, dropped it on the table, and lay down on ray bed to read Ivanhoe.

" I plan to rent out your bed, " said Mama, " to someone who will pay for it. Kindly remove your carcass."

At that I realized Mama's stubborn streak was a mile wider and a good deal deeper than mine. I sat outside the cabin day after day shooting rabbits and squirrels and any wild creature that moved until I discovered that I didn't mind killing birds as much, so we ate prairie chicken every day and would, I said, until someone else agreed to do the hunting. Jimmy Whiskers said prairie chicken with biscuits and lard gravy didn't taste bad at all, but the buckshot sure was hard on his gums.

2.4. True or false?

1. Moving west was an unwelcome change for the girl.

2. The girl's mother was a sensible, practically-minded woman.

3. California was glad to get some life experience while hunting.

4. All other family members were dying to go hunting, too.

5. California gave in for fear of severe punishment.

6. Hunting turned out to be quite an occupation for the girl.

2.5. Understanding points of view.

Scan the story and try to explain what the characters meant.

California, " Mama was trying to make a Westerner out of me."

Mother, " What is to become of you, girl? "

California, " I may starve to death, but I'd go a New Englander."

Mother, " Don't Mama me! "

Mother, " When you were little, wind spooked you."

Mother, " Every tub has to learn to stand on its own bottom sometime."

Mother, " I have a perfectly able daughter with a perfectly good trigger finger."

2.6. Storing vocabulary.

Paraphrase the following using the expressions from the story.

1. The kids ran into the room shouting happily.

2. He was very romantic, being in love with poetry and beauty.

3. It was a frightening story, so I wouldn't read it again for love or money.

4. You'll have to think of a way to raise the sum of money you need.

5. It's hard to like her, she's a snob, and thinks too much of herself.

6. The class was silent, as nobody risked going to the blackboard.

7. We didn't think much about our winnings; it looked like we were just being lucky, nothing more.

8. Whatever your difficulty might be, you can always cope with it.

Choose from: to venture, to bolt into, to find a way, to have a... streak, spooky, to take to.

2.7.GRAMMAR.

California seems to have great powers of imagination. When alone in the wild, she could almost see Indians coming. What about her other fears? The table below will help you speak about them.

What was the girl actually able to see happen or happening?

2.8. More grammar.

California disagreed with her mother a lot. Yet she finally decided she'd better take Mummy seriously. For her own sake, she'd better do some other things, too. Give h