tailieunhanh - LUYỆN ĐỌC TIẾNG ANH QUA TÁC PHẨM VĂN HỌC –WUTHERING HEIGHTS (ĐỒI GIÓ HÚ) EMILY BRONTE CHAPTER 32

WUTHERING HEIGHTS (ĐỒI GIÓ HÚ) EMILY BRONTE CHAPTER 32 Đây là một tác phẩm anh ngữ nổi tiếng với những từ vựng nâng cao chuyên ngành văn chương. Nhằm giúp các bạn yêu thich tiếng anh luyện tập và củng cố thêm kỹ năng đọc tiếng anh . | WUTHERING HEIGHTS ĐỒI GIÓ HÚ EMILY BRONTE CHAPTER 32 1802. - This September I was invited to devastate the moors of a friend in the north and on my journey to his abode I unexpectedly came within fifteen miles of Gimmerton. The ostler at a roadside public-house was holding a pail of water to refresh my horses when a cart of very green oats newly reaped passed by and he remarked - Yon s frough Gimmerton nah They re allas three wick after other folk wi ther harvest. Gimmerton I repeated - my residence in that locality had already grown dim and dreamy. Ah I know. How far is it from this Happen fourteen mile o er th hills and a rough road he answered. A sudden impulse seized me to visit Thrushcross Grange. It was scarcely noon and I conceived that I might as well pass the night under my own roof as in an inn. Besides I could spare a day easily to arrange matters with my landlord and thus save myself the trouble of invading the neighbourhood again. Having rested awhile I directed my servant to inquire the way to the village and with great fatigue to our beasts we managed the distance in some three hours. I left him there and proceeded down the valley alone. The grey church looked greyer and the lonely churchyard lonelier. I distinguished a moor-sheep cropping the short turf on the graves. It was sweet warm weather - too warm for travelling but the heat did not hinder me from enjoying the delightful scenery above and below had I seen it nearer August I m sure it would have tempted me to waste a month among its solitudes. In winter nothing more dreary in summer nothing more divine than those glens shut in by hills and those bluff bold swells of heath. I reached the Grange before sunset and knocked for admittance but the family had retreated into the back premises I judged by one thin blue wreath curling from the kitchen chimney and they did not hear. I rode into the court. Under the porch a girl of nine or ten sat knitting and an old woman reclined on the housesteps .