Halaman

Diberdayakan oleh Blogger.
RSS

ENGLISH STORY

nih,, kalo ada story telling, tinggal copast aja.
Ok, selamat baca!!! 



The Fairies’ Cake
There was once a young lady called Lucy who baked the best cakes in the whole world. One day she was stolen away by the fairies, who locked her up in the kitchen in Fairyland.
“Make us a cake!” they all demanded. “A big, gooey, crumbly, creamy cake with icing!”
“And what will become of me when I’ve done the baking?” asked Lucy.
“Oh, we’ll turn you into a tree.”
“I don’t want to turn into a tree,” thought Lucy. So she said to the fairies,
“How can I make a cake without flour? You’d better fly to my kitchen and fetch me a bag of flour.”
So the fairies flitted over to the croft where Lucy lived, and flitted back with a bag of flour. Lucy shook her head.
“How can I make a cake without eggs? You’d better fly to my hen-house
and fetch me half a dozen eggs.”
So the fairies flew over to the hen-house, and flew back with half a dozen eggs.
“But how can I make a cake without sugar?” said Lucy to the fairies.
“You’d better hurry to my cupboard and fetch a bag of sugar.” So the fairies fluttered over the croft and found in the cupboard a bag of sugar, and between them carried it back to Fairyland.
“Ouch, but you forgot the baking powder!” cried Lucy.
“Do you want a cake as flat as a dinner plate?”
And she sent the fairies back for the baking powder. She sent them for the icing sugar, the cherries, the cream and a bowl. And with every trip the fairies grew more and more tired, until their wings drooped.
“There! I’m ready!” said Lucy, putting all the ingredients into the bowl.
“But oh dear, I’m too worried about my poor wee baby to think about cake-making. You must go and fetch him for me to watch over while I cook.”
“Oh, all right,” said the fairies grudgingly. They did not want to go – they were worn out. Buthow else could they get their cake? They were no sooner back, carrying the baby in his crib, than Lucy looked at her watch.
“Oh goodness gracious! It’s time for my husband’s tea. I must go home and cook him something.”
“Oh no you don’t!” said the fairies. “Let him make his own tea!”
But Lucy fell into such fits of giggles that she could neither whisk nor stir.
“Make his own tea? Why, he couldn’t butter a slice of bread! Oh, no, you must fetch him so I can explain why his tea’s late.”
So the fairies flapped over to the croft – and flapped back with Lucy’s husband. Then they sat back to back on the floor to catch their breath.
“Did you lock up the cat and dog before you left?” Lucy asked her husband sharply – though she winked an eye as she spoke.
“Er…er, no, I-I didn’t have time.”
“What? The dog and cat not locked up? Why, they’ll scratch the house to pieces! You fairies will have to fetch them here – no two ways about it!”
The fairies could hardly bring themselves to get up off the floor. But they were so hungry that they wanted a cake more than ever. So they folded their wings across their backs and walked all the way over to Lucy’ croft, and carried back the cat and the dog.
“Now. At last I’m ready to bake the cake,” said Lucy.
“But where’s the oven?”
“Oven?” The fairies began to grizzle.
“Do you need an oven?”
“Of course I need an oven!”
Lucy laughed and her husband laughed, too. So the fairies crawled over to the croft and staggered back under the gigantic weight of the cast-iron kitchen range. While they were gone, Lucy said to her husband,
“Sing!” And she said to the cat, “Yowl!” And she said to the dog, “Bark!” And she said to the baby, “Cry!”
The door flew open, and in came the oven. The fairies set it down, then sprawled on their little fairy beds, exhausted. But the man was singing. And the cat was yowling. And the dog was barking. And the baby was crying.
“Sssh! Oh shush! Stop!” shrieked the fairies, covering their ears. “Go away, please!” they cried, pulling their pillows over their heads.
“Very well,” said Lucy. “but only if you promise to fetch my oven home tomorrow morning at the latest.”
Then her husband picked up the baby in his crib, and Lucy picked up the cat, and the dog followed on behind. They walked home to a meal of cold pork pie and toasted crumpets. But Lucy, though she had narrowly escaped being turned into a tree, felt sorry for the fairies with no-one to bake them cakes. So when they brought back her oven, the first thing she did was to bake a big, gooey, crumbly, creamy cake with icing on top, and she left it outside the door. And do you know what? The next morning it was gone.

Taken from: Golden Press, Australia 1987
Interlanguage: English for Senior High School Students XII





Peter and the Mountainy Men
Long, long ago, in the mountains of Switzerland, there lived a rich miller who was very mean. Even when people were starving and pleading for food, he would not help them. One cold winter’s day there was a knock on the mill door. “What do you want?” barked the miller.
“Please, sir, could you give me just one small bag of flour?” pleaded a tiny man dressed in a red cap and little green suit. “We need it so badly.”
“Buzz off!” shouted the miller. “I’ve no time for beggars!”
As the dwarf began his long walk back to the mountains, he met a young boy carrying a bag of flour in his arms. It was Peter, the miller’s son.
“Take this,” he whispered, “but don’t let my father know I’ve given it to you.”
The dwarf took the bag and tucked it inside his coat.
“Thank you, young sir,” he said. “I’ll not forget your kindness.”
Then he continued on his way.
One spring morning, several months later, Peter was fishing in a lake up in the mountains when he felt a strong pull on his line. He tugged and tugged, until suddenly, a little figure appeared out of the water. It was the dwarf!
“Why, if it isn’t the miller’s son!” he said, drying himself on a huge leaf. “I’ve been having my annual bath in honour of the Great Day.”
“Great Day?” asked Peter.
“Didn’t you know? Today’s our Great Day of Feasts and Sports. Why don’t you come and join us? It’s great fun and there’s heaps to eat!”
The dwarf dived into the long grass, and pulled out his red cap and green clothes. Then he led the way through a hollow tree trunk to a huge cave in the hillside. This was where all the mountainy people – the elves, the dwarfs and the fairies – make their home. In the huge cave hundreds of little folk dressed in gaily coloured clothes sat at long, low tables munching cake, jellies and ice-cream. And there were great bowls of fruit and tall jugs of juice. The dwarf banged on the table for silence. Immediately the chattering and music stopped.
“Dwarfs, goblins, and fairies, this is Peter, the boy who gave us the bag of flour last Winter. He’s here as my special guest for the Great Day!”
The mountainy people clapped and cheered, as Peter sat down at the head table and began to eat, and eat … and eat. But, long before he had finished, the games began. There was hurdling over the benches and pole-vaulting over the tables. The leprechauns played and a big crowd gathered to watch the darts match played with goose feathers. Skittles were played with a marble and big fir cones, and for javelin-throwing they used long twigs. Peter was invited to join in the fun, but refused politely.
“I don’t really think it would be fair. After all, I’m so much bigger than you … and stronger.”
“I wouldn’t count on that,” said a goblin – and he lifted up the bench, Peter and all!
The miller’s son at entranced as the elves rode bareback on racing mice, and the fairies used little wooden boats to race down a stream running through the cave. And all the time there were dwarfs doing handstands and somersaults, sometimes for prizes but mostly for fun. Then, after a tug-of-war between the goblins and the gremlins, everyone ran out to the top of the mountain and back – and fell down exhausted. Peter picked his way through the tired little bodies, taking care not to step on the fairies’ wings. He crept out of the cave and climbed up the tree trunk back to the lake. Just as he picked up his fishing rod he heard a voice calling to him.
“Wait, Peter, wait for me!”
It was the mountainy man. “You’re leaving without your presents.”
“Presents? But it isn’t my birthday.”
“I know it isn’t. I mean your thank-you presents. You gave us flour when we were starving, so please take this whistle in return for your kindness. Just blow it loudly three times and we’ll bring you whatever you want.”
Amazed at all he had seen, Peter could scarcely find words to thank the little man.
“And this,” said the dwarf taking a bag from inside his coat, “is a flour bag for your father.”
As the sun was sinking, Peter reached the mill, gave his father the bag and told him that the dwarf had given it to him.
“You mean you sneaked out and gave one of my bags of flour to that little beggar?” shouted the miller.
But then he peeped inside the bag … and found a hundred shining pearls, with a note:
We hope this makes you happy not sad, Mountainy folk return good for bad.
The miller felt so ashamed he promised Peter that never again would he turn away anyone in need of help. So, ever after that, when the first winter snow fell high on the mountains, all the little people visited their friends, the miller and Peter. And they always found the miller’s table laden with delicious food.

Taken from: Golden Press, Australia 1987
Interlanguage: English for Senior High School Students XII

  • Digg
  • Del.icio.us
  • StumbleUpon
  • Reddit
  • RSS

0 komentar:

Posting Komentar


ShoutMix chat widget