Give Me a Big Box of Chocolates
John liked chocolates very much, but his mother never gave him any, because they were bad for his teeth, she thought. But .)ohn had a very nice grandfather. The old man loved his grandaon very much, and sometimes he brought John chocolates when he. came to visit him. Then his mother let him eat them, because she wanted to make the old man happy.
One evening , a few days before John's seventh birthday , he was saying his prayers in his bedroom before he went to bed. "Please, God," he shouted, "make them give me a big box of chocolates for my birthday on Saturday. "
His mother was in the kitchen, but she heard the small boy shouting and went into his bedroom quickly.
"Why are you shouting, John?" she asked her son. "God can hear you when you talk quietly. "
"I know," answered the clever boy with a smile, "but Grandfather's in the next room, and he can't. "
You Are Too Young to Buy Alcohol
Later that day, Steve told the group that he had decided to go back to Edinburgh. "I want to see the rest of the Festival, " he explained. That evening, they all went to a pub for a final drink with Steve. They left a . message for Malc : GONE TO THE WHITE HORSE. SEE YOU THERE!
Malc arrived back quite late. He went round to the pub immediately. He was feeling very pleased with himself.
BILL: How did it go, then?
MALC: Oh, fantastic! I took some really good photographs. I'm sure I shall win that competition.
LIsE: Well , you'd better buy us all a drink , then !
MALC: Yes... What would you all like?
(Malc goes to the bar)
I'd like four pints of best bitter... oh, and two lagers and lime.
BARMAN: ... Oh, excuse me, sir. How old are you?
MALC: Sixteen. Why?
BARMAN: Well, I'm afraid you're too young to buy alcohol. You have to be eighteen, you know.
Question on Text B
7. Read the following passage once. Underline the key words while reading and retell the atory to your partner.
An artist went to a beautiful part of the country for a holiday, and stayed with a farmer. Every day he went out with his paints and his brushes and painted from morning to evening, and then when it got dark, he went back to the farm and had a good dinner before he went to bed.
At the end of his holiday he wanted to pay the farmer, but the farmer said, "No, I do not want money - but give me one of your pictures. What is money? In a week it will all be finished, but your painting will still be here. "
The artist was very pleased and thanked the farmer for saying such kind things about his paintings.
The farmer smiled and answered, "It is not that. I have a son in London. He wanta to become an artist. When he comes here next month, I will show him your picture, and then he will not want to be an artist any more, I think. "