Tuesday, December 10, 2013

Արտասահմանյան գրականություն նախագիծ

­­­­Analytical  Reading
Big Business

            Danny was standing on Manhattan Bridge. Suddenly he noticed a still burning cigarette-end on the sidewalk and rushed to save it; a few deep puffs and Denny sent little blue clouds of smoke into the mild air of the early spring.
            While enjoying the smoke he thought over his present situation. What’s the use of it all, he said to himself; here I am, a young man looking for a job of some kind or other – but not the ghost of chance of getting one.
            And I am certainly no fool! I am good at anything. I don’t mind what I do – and still – no luck… I must smoke dog-ends thrown away by others… Oh, boy! What does a man do to become a partner of Rockefeller? They started on a small scale, the same as I should like to, and I am quite sure they were not very particular about the way in which they made their money – and I shouldn't be either!
            And still there is only eight dollars and fifty cents in the torn pocket of my trousers. The devil knows how much longer I shall be able to make both ends meet on eight fifty! A week? A fortnight?  A month? ……Where, for Heaven’s sake, could I pick up a job?
            Now it is beginning to rain cats and dogs on top of all, and I have a hole in my shoes. A hole? It’s holes I have, nothing but holes and no shoes round them… Where can I hide from the rain? I’ll go to the post office for a while.
            By the time he reached the post office he was wet through. He stood in the main hall of the post office watching the people hurrying busily this way and that, and then picked up a letter somebody seemed to have left behind on one of the many writing desks. He read the first few lines hardly knowing what exactly he was reading; then something struck him. He read again and this time he gave a whistle of surprise. In no time he was out in the street again, looking back started to learn by heart the short note.
            “Dear friend,” it ran, “Yesterday shortly before I left I made up my mind to get rid of my old clothes. I’m on my way to San Francisco by now, but I just remembered something terrible: The night before I left I happened to meet Mr. Burbridge. He paid me a thousand dollar in settlement of an old debt. He gave me a one thousand dollar bill, and I put it into the inside pocket of the blue worsted suit I was wearing. But I have sold that suit along with the other old things. Do please go at once to the old clothes dealer, maybe he has not resold the suit yet…”
            One thousand dollars!  whispered Danny with excitement. That sum might be the making of me…Damn it, I am going to risk my last eight dollars!
·          

Black and Son, the secondhand gents’ clothiers, had their shop full of customers when Danny entered. Old man Black, his sleeves rolled up, wiping the sweat of his face, and after giving instructions to his employees who were busy carrying clothes about the shop, hurried towards Danny to serve him.
            “What can I do for you, sir?”
“Have you got anything in tweed?” asked Danny with seeming indifference.
            “Tweed, sir? Certainly, the very latest…My assistant will attend to you. John, run and bring the tweed suit we bought from Mr. Rockefeller the other day!”
            “Well – I think, I’d like something in navy blue.”
“I can let you have a suit like that, sir. Something quite exceptional,” exclaimed Mr. Black. “ I say, John, leave the tweed, bring the blue worsted one…Yes, the one we have from Gould… it will be just the right size.”
            “The blue lounge suit,” cried the attendant to a small boy. “Run, Ralph, be sharp! Get us the navy worsted lounge suit!”
            The boy hurried off, and a second later Danny was trying on a jacket that hung loosely from his narrow shoulders.
            “Fits you like a glove, sir!” exclaimed the attendant in admiration.” Carefully Danny passed his hand over the pockets of the jacket, his heart almost stopped beating. He had to clear his throat. Then he asked for the price and without bargaining he paid the price of seven and a half dollars and a quarter of an hour later he sat in Columbus Park with a large parcel in his hands. He couldn’t help feeling excited.
            Hurriedly he opened the parcel, took out the navy blue jacket in the right inside pocket of which he found a black leather wallet, opened it and began to count the money with shaking hands.
“Eleven thousand three hundred dollars!” he stammered. Eleven thousand three hundred dollars! Danny, old boy, that was big business!”
         When Mr. Black senior closed his shop long after nine p.m., his managing clerk said to him with a satisfied smile:
      «Well,sir, that was excellent business again today, wasn't it? We are getting rid of all our  old rubbish. We are doing a good turnover in those cheap suits!»
            « Well,» said Mr. Black smiling, «Did you manage to get a new supply  of those letters written?»
            «Certainly, Mr. Black, five hundred!»
            «All right!, tomorrow morning my son is going to lose them again at the post offices,the subway and the telephone boxes...... A capital idea, those one thousand dollar letters!»
            Mr. Black was searching about the shop for something.
            «Ralth!», he called, «bring me my jacket!»
            «Your jacket,sir?»
            «Yes, I hang it over the chair. The blue jacket!»
            «Oh, that one»,- stammered the boy and opened his eyes wide, «that one was sold this afternoon sir!»



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