tailieunhanh - LUYỆN ĐỌC TIẾNG ANH QUA TÁC PHẨM VĂN HỌC-SHORT STORY BY O’HENRY -The Dog And The Playlet

SHORT STORY BY O’HENRY The Dog And The Playlet Đây là một serries truyện ngắn anh ngữ nổi tiếng với những từ vựng quen thuộc. Nhằm giúp các em và các bạn yêu thich tiếng anh luyện tập và củng cố thêm kỹ năng đọc tiếng anh | SHORT STORY BY O HENRY The Dog And The Playlet Usually it is a cold day in July when you can stroll up Broadway in that month and get a story out of the drama. I found one a few breathless parboiling days ago and it seems to decide a serious question in art. There was not a soul left in the city except Hollis and me--and two or three million sunworshippers who remained at desks and counters. The elect had fled to seashore lake and mountain and had already begun to draw for additional funds. Every evening Hollis and I prowled about the deserted town searching for coolness in empty cafes dining-rooms and roofgardens. We knew to the tenth part of a revolution the speed of every electric fan in Gotham and we followed the swiftest as they varied. Hollis s fiancee. Miss Loris Sherman had been in the Adirondacks at Lower Saranac Lake for a month. In another week he would join her party there. In the meantime he cursed the city cheerfully and optimistically and sought my society because I suffered him to show me her photograph during the black coffee every time we dined together. My revenge was to read to him my one-act play. It was one insufferable evening when the overplus of the day s heat was being hurled quiveringly back to the heavens by every surcharged brick and stone and inch of iron in the panting town. But with the cunning of the twolegged beasts we had found an oasis where the hoofs of Apollo s steed had not been allowed to strike. Our seats were on an ocean of cool polished oak the white linen of fifty deserted tables flapped like seagulls in the artificial breeze a mile away a waiter lingered for a heliographic signal--we might have roared songs there or fought a duel without molestation. Out came Miss Loris s photo with the coffee and I once more praised the elegant poise of the neck the extremely low-coiled mass of heavy hair and the eyes that followed one like those in an oil painting. She s the greatest ever said Hollis with enthusiasm. Good as Great .