20.4.2016
Dear readers, in the month of April I would like to share some jokes. I hope they will make you smile:-)
1.3.2016
Dear readers,
here is the third chapter of "The curious Case of Benjamin Button". Have fun!
III.
Even after the new addition to the Button family had had his hair cut
short and then dyed to a sparse unnatural black, had had his face
shaved so dose that it glistened, and had been attired in small-boy
clothes made to order by a flabbergasted tailor, it was impossible for
Button to ignore the fact that his son was a excuse for a first family
baby. Despite his aged stoop, Benjamin Button--for it was by this name
they called him instead of by the appropriate but invidious
Methuselah--was five feet eight inches tall. His clothes did not
conceal this, nor did the clipping and dyeing of his eyebrows disguise
the fact that the eyes under--were faded and watery and tired. In
fact, the baby-nurse who had been engaged in advance left the house
after one look, in a state of considerable indignation.
But Mr. Button persisted in his unwavering purpose. Benjamin was a
baby, and a baby he should remain. At first he declared that if
Benjamin didn't like warm milk he could go without food altogether,
but he was finally prevailed upon to allow his son bread and butter,
and even oatmeal by way of a compromise. One day he brought home a
rattle and, giving it to Benjamin, insisted in no uncertain terms that
he should "play with it," whereupon the old man took it with--a weary
expression and could be heard jingling it obediently at intervals
throughout the day.
There can be no doubt, though, that the rattle bored him, and that he
found other and more soothing amusements when he was left alone. For
instance, Mr. Button discovered one day that during the preceding week
be had smoked more cigars than ever before--a phenomenon, which was
explained a few days later when, entering the nursery unexpectedly, he
found the room full of faint blue haze and Benjamin, with a guilty
expression on his face, trying to conceal the butt of a dark Havana.
This, of course, called for a severe spanking, but Mr. Button found
that he could not bring himself to administer it. He merely warned his
son that he would "stunt his growth."
Nevertheless he persisted in his attitude. He brought home lead
soldiers, he brought toy trains, he brought large pleasant animals
made of cotton, and, to perfect the illusion which he was
creating--for himself at least--he passionately demanded of the clerk
in the toy-store whether "the paint would come oft the pink duck if
the baby put it in his mouth." But, despite all his father's efforts,
Benjamin refused to be interested. He would steal down the back stairs
and return to the nursery with a volume of the Encyclopedia
Britannica, over which he would pore through an afternoon, while his
cotton cows and his Noah's ark were left neglected on the floor.
Against such a stubbornness Mr. Button's efforts were of little avail.
The sensation created in Baltimore was, at first, prodigious. What the
mishap would have cost the Buttons and their kinsfolk socially cannot
be determined, for the outbreak of the Civil War drew the city's
attention to other things. A few people who were unfailingly polite
racked their brains for compliments to give to the parents--and
finally hit upon the ingenious device of declaring that the baby
resembled his grandfather, a fact which, due to the standard state of
decay common to all men of seventy, could not be denied. Mr. and Mrs.
Roger Button were not pleased, and Benjamin's grandfather was
furiously insulted.
Benjamin, once he left the hospital, took life as he found it. Several
small boys were brought to see him, and he spent a stiff-jointed
afternoon trying to work up an interest in tops and marbles--he even
managed, quite accidentally, to break a kitchen window with a stone
from a sling shot, a feat which secretly delighted his father.
Thereafter Benjamin contrived to break something every day, but he did
these things only because they were expected of him, and because he
was by nature obliging.
When his grandfather's initial antagonism wore off, Benjamin and that
gentleman took enormous pleasure in one another's company. They would
sit for hours, these two, so far apart in age and experience, and,
like old cronies, discuss with tireless monotony the slow events of
the day. Benjamin felt more at ease in his grandfather's presence than
in his parents'--they seemed always somewhat in awe of him and,
despite the dictatorial authority they exercised over him, frequently
addressed him as "Mr."
He was as puzzled as any one else at the apparently advanced age of
his mind and body at birth. He read up on it in the medical journal,
but found that no such case had been previously recorded. At his
father's urging he made an honest attempt to play with other boys, and
frequently he joined in the milder games--football shook him up too
much, and he feared that in case of a fracture his ancient bones would
refuse to knit.
When he was five he was sent to kindergarten, where he initiated into
the art of pasting green paper on orange paper, of weaving colored
maps and manufacturing eternal cardboard necklaces. He was inclined to
drowse off to sleep in the middle of these tasks, a habit which both
irritated and frightened his young teacher. To his relief she
complained to his parents, and he was removed from the school. The
Roger Buttons told their friends that they felt he was too young.
By the time he was twelve years old his parents had grown used to him.
Indeed, so strong is the force of custom that they no longer felt that
he was different from any other child--except when some curious
anomaly reminded them of the fact. But one day a few weeks after his
twelfth birthday, while looking in the mirror, Benjamin made, or
thought he made, an astonishing discovery. Did his eyes deceive him,
or had his hair turned in the dozen years of his life from white to
iron-gray under its concealing dye? Was the network of wrinkles on his
face becoming less pronounced? Was his skin healthier and firmer, with
even a touch of ruddy winter color? He could not tell. He knew that
he no longer stooped, and that his physical condition had improved
since the early days of his life.
"Can it be----?" he thought to himself, or, rather, scarcely dared to
think.
He went to his father. "I am grown," he announced determinedly. "I
want to put on long trousers."
His father hesitated. "Well," he said finally, "I don't know. Fourteen
is the age for putting on long trousers--and you are only twelve."
"But you'll have to admit," protested Benjamin, "that I'm big for my
age."
His father looked at him with illusory speculation. "Oh, I'm not so
sure of that," he said. "I was as big as you when I was twelve."
This was not true-it was all part of Roger Button's silent agreement
with himself to believe in his son's normality.
Finally a compromise was reached. Benjamin was to continue to dye his
hair. He was to make a better attempt to play with boys of his own
age. He was not to wear his spectacles or carry a cane in the street.
In return for these concessions he was allowed his first suit of long
trousers....
1.2.2016
Dear readers,
I hope you liked the first chapter of "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button". Enjoy the second one:
(obrázek - zdroj: www.themetaplex.com)
II.
"Good-morning," Mr. Button said nervously, to the clerk in theChesapeake Dry Goods Company. "I want to buy some clothes for mychild."
unusually large-size child. Exceptionally--ah large."
ground desperately. He felt that the clerk must surely scent his
shameful secret.
clothes was repugnant to him. If, say, he could only find a very large
boy's suit, he might cut off that long and awful beard, dye the white
hair brown, and thus manage to conceal the worst, and to retain
something of his own self-respect--not to mention his position in
Baltimore society.
fit the new-born Button. He blamed the store, of course---in such
cases it is the thing to blame the store.
curiously.
find the youths' department in the next aisle."
pointed his finger toward a dressed dummy in the window display.
"There!" he exclaimed. "I'll take that suit, out there on the dummy."
least it is, but it's for fancy dress. You could wear it
yourself!"
the package at his son. "Here's your clothes," he snapped out.
quizzical eye.
made a monkey of--"
mind how funny you look. Put them on--or I'll--or I'll spank
you." He swallowed uneasily at the penultimate word, feeling
nevertheless that it was the proper thing to say.
respect--"you've lived longer; you know best. Just as you say."
violently.
costume consisted of dotted socks, pink pants, and a belted blouse
with a wide white collar. Over the latter waved the long whitish
beard, drooping almost to the waist. The effect was not good.
amputated a large section of the beard. But even with this improvement
the ensemble fell far short of perfection. The remaining brush of
scraggly hair, the watery eyes, the ancient teeth, seemed oddly out of
tone with the gaiety of the costume. Mr. Button, however, was
obdurate--he held out his hand. "Come along!" he said sternly.
dad?" he quavered as they walked from the nursery--"just 'baby' for a
while? till you think of a better name?"
we'll call you Methuselah."
"How old is your child, sir?"
"About six hours," answered Mr. Button, without due consideration.
"Babies' supply department in the rear."
"Why, I don't think--I'm not sure that's what I want. It's--he's an
"They have the largest child's sizes."
"Where is the boys' department?" inquired Mr. Button, shifting his
"Right here."
"Well----" He hesitated. The notion of dressing his son in men's
But a frantic inspection of the boys' department revealed no suits to
"How old did you say that boy of yours was?" demanded the clerk
"He's--sixteen."
"Oh, I beg your pardon. I thought you said six hours. You'll
Mr. Button turned miserably away. Then he stopped, brightened, and
The clerk stared. "Why," he protested, "that's not a child's suit. At
"Wrap it up," insisted his customer nervously. "That's what I want."
The astonished clerk obeyed.
Back at the hospital Mr. Button entered the nursery and almost threw
The old man untied the package and viewed the contents with a
"They look sort of funny to me," he complained, "I don't want to be
"You've made a monkey of me!" retorted Mr. Button fiercely. "Never you
"All right, father"--this with a grotesque simulation of filial
As before, the sound of the word "father" caused Mr. Button to start
"And hurry."
"I'm hurrying, father."
When his son was dressed Mr. Button regarded him with depression. The
"Wait!"
Mr. Button seized a hospital shears and with three quick snaps
His son took the hand trustingly. "What are you going to call me,
Mr. Button grunted. "I don't know," he answered harshly. "I think
8.1.2016
Dear readers,
you might know the film called "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" with Brad Pitt and Cate Blanchett. It is based on a story written by an American author Francis Scott Fitzgerald.
(obrázek - zdroj: www.myfusionpix.blogspot.com)
(obrázek - zdroj: www.airshipdaily.com)
Now you can read the first chapter of the story:
I
As long ago as 1860 it was the proper thing to be born at home. At
present, so I am told, the high gods of medicine have decreed that the
first cries of the young shall be uttered upon the anaesthetic air of
a hospital, preferably a fashionable one. So young Mr. and Mrs. Roger
Button were fifty years ahead of style when they decided, one day in
the summer of 1860, that their first baby should be born in a
hospital. Whether this anachronism had any bearing upon the
astonishing history I am about to set down will never be known.
I shall tell you what occurred, and let you judge for yourself.
The Roger Buttons held an enviable position, both social and
financial, in Antebellum Baltimore. They were related to the This
Family and the That Family, which, as every Southerner knew, entitled
them to membership in that enormous peerage which largely populated
the Confederacy. This was their first experience with the charming old
custom of having babies--Mr. Button was naturally nervous. He hoped it
would be a boy so that he could be sent to Yale College in
Connecticut, at which institution Mr. Button himself had been known
for four years by the somewhat obvious nickname of "Cuff."
On the September morning consecrated to the enormous event he arose
nervously at six o'clock dressed himself, adjusted an impeccable
stock, and hurried forth through the streets of Baltimore to the
hospital, to determine whether the darkness of the night had borne in
new life upon its bosom.
When he was approximately a hundred yards from the Maryland Private
Hospital for Ladies and Gentlemen he saw Doctor Keene, the family
physician, descending the front steps, rubbing his hands together with
a washing movement--as all doctors are required to do by the unwritten
ethics of their profession.
Mr. Roger Button, the president of Roger Button & Co., Wholesale
Hardware, began to run toward Doctor Keene with much less dignity than
was expected from a Southern gentleman of that picturesque period.
"Doctor Keene!" he called. "Oh, Doctor Keene!"
The doctor heard him, faced around, and stood waiting, a curious
expression settling on his harsh, medicinal face as Mr. Button drew
near.
"What happened?" demanded Mr. Button, as he came up in a gasping rush.
"What was it? How is she" A boy? Who is it? What---"
"Talk sense!" said Doctor Keene sharply, He appeared somewhat
irritated.
"Is the child born?" begged Mr. Button.
Doctor Keene frowned. "Why, yes, I suppose so--after a fashion." Again
he threw a curious glance at Mr. Button.
"Is my wife all right?"
"Yes."
"Is it a boy or a girl?"
"Here now!" cried Doctor Keene in a perfect passion of irritation,"
I'll ask you to go and see for yourself. Outrageous!" He snapped the
last word out in almost one syllable, then he turned away muttering:
"Do you imagine a case like this will help my professional reputation?
One more would ruin me--ruin anybody."
"What's the matter?" demanded Mr. Button appalled. "Triplets?"
"No, not triplets!" answered the doctor cuttingly. "What's more, you
can go and see for yourself. And get another doctor. I brought you
into the world, young man, and I've been physician to your family for
forty years, but I'm through with you! I don't want to see you or any
of your relatives ever again! Good-bye!"
Then he turned sharply, and without another word climbed into his
phaeton, which was waiting at the curbstone, and drove severely away.
Mr. Button stood there upon the sidewalk, stupefied and trembling from
head to foot. What horrible mishap had occurred? He had suddenly lost
all desire to go into the Maryland Private Hospital for Ladies and
Gentlemen--it was with the greatest difficulty that, a moment later,
he forced himself to mount the steps and enter the front door.
A nurse was sitting behind a desk in the opaque gloom of the hall.
Swallowing his shame, Mr. Button approached her.
"Good-morning," she remarked, looking up at him pleasantly.
"Good-morning. I--I am Mr. Button."
At this a look of utter terror spread itself over girl's face. She
rose to her feet and seemed about to fly from the hall, restraining
herself only with the most apparent difficulty.
"I want to see my child," said Mr. Button.
The nurse gave a little scream. "Oh--of course!" she cried
hysterically. "Upstairs. Right upstairs. Go--up!"
She pointed the direction, and Mr. Button, bathed in cool
perspiration, turned falteringly, and began to mount to the second
floor. In the upper hall he addressed another nurse who approached
him, basin in hand. "I'm Mr. Button," he managed to articulate. "I
want to see my----"
Clank! The basin clattered to the floor and rolled in the direction of
the stairs. Clank! Clank! I began a methodical decent as if sharing in
the general terror which this gentleman provoked.
"I want to see my child!" Mr. Button almost shrieked. He was on the
verge of collapse.
Clank! The basin reached the first floor. The nurse regained control
of herself, and threw Mr. Button a look of hearty contempt.
"All right, Mr. Button," she agreed in a hushed voice. "Very
well! But if you knew what a state it's put us all in this
morning! It's perfectly outrageous! The hospital will never have
a ghost of a reputation after----"
"Hurry!" he cried hoarsely. "I can't stand this!"
"Come this way, then, Mr. Button."
He dragged himself after her. At the end of a long hall they reached a
room from which proceeded a variety of howls--indeed, a room which, in
later parlance, would have been known as the "crying-room." They
entered.
"Well," gasped Mr. Button, "which is mine?"
"There!" said the nurse.
Mr. Button's eyes followed her pointing finger, and this is what he
saw. Wrapped in a voluminous white blanket, and partly crammed into
one of the cribs, there sat an old man apparently about seventy years
of age. His sparse hair was almost white, and from his chin dripped a
long smoke-colored beard, which waved absurdly back and forth, fanned
by the breeze coming in at the window. He looked up at Mr. Button with
dim, faded eyes in which lurked a puzzled question.
"Am I mad?" thundered Mr. Button, his terror resolving into rage. "Is
this some ghastly hospital joke?
"It doesn't seem like a joke to us," replied the nurse severely. "And
I don't know whether you're mad or not--but that is most certainly
your child."
The cool perspiration redoubled on Mr. Button's forehead. He closed
his eyes, and then, opening them, looked again. There was no
mistake--he was gazing at a man of threescore and ten--a baby
of threescore and ten, a baby whose feet hung over the sides of the
crib in which it was reposing.
The old man looked placidly from one to the other for a moment, and
then suddenly spoke in a cracked and ancient voice. "Are you my
father?" he demanded.
Mr. Button and the nurse started violently.
"Because if you are," went on the old man querulously, "I wish you'd
get me out of this place--or, at least, get them to put a comfortable
rocker in here,"
"Where in God's name did you come from? Who are you?" burst out Mr.
Button frantically.
"I can't tell you exactly who I am," replied the querulous
whine, "because I've only been born a few hours--but my last name is
certainly Button."
"You lie! You're an impostor!"
The old man turned wearily to the nurse. "Nice way to welcome a
new-born child," he complained in a weak voice. "Tell him he's wrong,
why don't you?"
"You're wrong. Mr. Button," said the nurse severely. "This is your
child, and you'll have to make the best of it. We're going to ask you
to take him home with you as soon as possible-some time to-day."
"Home?" repeated Mr. Button incredulously.
"Yes, we can't have him here. We really can't, you know?"
"I'm right glad of it," whined the old man. "This is a fine place to
keep a youngster of quiet tastes. With all this yelling and howling, I
haven't been able to get a wink of sleep. I asked for something to
eat"--here his voice rose to a shrill note of protest--"and they
brought me a bottle of milk!"
Mr. Button, sank down upon a chair near his son and concealed his face
in his hands. "My heavens!" he murmured, in an ecstasy of horror.
"What will people say? What must I do?"
"You'll have to take him home," insisted the nurse--"immediately!"
A grotesque picture formed itself with dreadful clarity before the
eyes of the tortured man--a picture of himself walking through the
crowded streets of the city with this appalling apparition stalking by
his side.
"I can't. I can't," he moaned.
People would stop to speak to him, and what was he going to say? He
would have to introduce this--this septuagenarian: "This is my son,
born early this morning." And then the old man would gather his
blanket around him and they would plod on, past the bustling stores,
the slave market--for a dark instant Mr. Button wished passionately
that his son was black--past the luxurious houses of the residential
district, past the home for the aged....
"Come! Pull yourself together," commanded the nurse.
"See here," the old man announced suddenly, "if you think I'm going to
walk home in this blanket, you're entirely mistaken."
"Babies always have blankets."
With a malicious crackle the old man held up a small white swaddling
garment. "Look!" he quavered. "This is what they had ready for
me."
"Babies always wear those," said the nurse primly.
"Well," said the old man, "this baby's not going to wear anything in
about two minutes. This blanket itches. They might at least have given
me a sheet."
"Keep it on! Keep it on!" said Mr. Button hurriedly. He turned to the
nurse. "What'll I do?"
"Go down town and buy your son some clothes."
Mr. Button's son's voice followed him down into the: hall: "And a
cane, father. I want to have a cane."
Mr. Button banged the outer door savagely....
Mgr.Radka Skočdopolová
2.12.2015
Dear readers,
you can read the first chapter of a very famous story called Robinson
Crusoe which was written by an English author Daniel Defoe.
Chapter 1
I was born in York, England in 1632. My father was German and my mother was
English. My father’s name was Kreutznaer, but people in England started to call
him Crusoe. My mother’s family was called Robinson. This is why I am called
Robinson Crusoe.
This is how my unhappy adventures began.
Mgr. Radka Skočdopolová
úterý, 20.5.2014
20.4.2016
Dear readers, in the month of April I would like to share some jokes. I hope they will make you smile:-)
1.3.2016
Dear readers,
here is the third chapter of "The curious Case of Benjamin Button". Have fun!
III.
Even after the new addition to the Button family had had his hair cut
short and then dyed to a sparse unnatural black, had had his face
shaved so dose that it glistened, and had been attired in small-boy
clothes made to order by a flabbergasted tailor, it was impossible for
Button to ignore the fact that his son was a excuse for a first family
baby. Despite his aged stoop, Benjamin Button--for it was by this name
they called him instead of by the appropriate but invidious
Methuselah--was five feet eight inches tall. His clothes did not
conceal this, nor did the clipping and dyeing of his eyebrows disguise
the fact that the eyes under--were faded and watery and tired. In
fact, the baby-nurse who had been engaged in advance left the house
after one look, in a state of considerable indignation.
But Mr. Button persisted in his unwavering purpose. Benjamin was a
baby, and a baby he should remain. At first he declared that if
Benjamin didn't like warm milk he could go without food altogether,
but he was finally prevailed upon to allow his son bread and butter,
and even oatmeal by way of a compromise. One day he brought home a
rattle and, giving it to Benjamin, insisted in no uncertain terms that
he should "play with it," whereupon the old man took it with--a weary
expression and could be heard jingling it obediently at intervals
throughout the day.
There can be no doubt, though, that the rattle bored him, and that he
found other and more soothing amusements when he was left alone. For
instance, Mr. Button discovered one day that during the preceding week
be had smoked more cigars than ever before--a phenomenon, which was
explained a few days later when, entering the nursery unexpectedly, he
found the room full of faint blue haze and Benjamin, with a guilty
expression on his face, trying to conceal the butt of a dark Havana.
This, of course, called for a severe spanking, but Mr. Button found
that he could not bring himself to administer it. He merely warned his
son that he would "stunt his growth."
Nevertheless he persisted in his attitude. He brought home lead
soldiers, he brought toy trains, he brought large pleasant animals
made of cotton, and, to perfect the illusion which he was
creating--for himself at least--he passionately demanded of the clerk
in the toy-store whether "the paint would come oft the pink duck if
the baby put it in his mouth." But, despite all his father's efforts,
Benjamin refused to be interested. He would steal down the back stairs
and return to the nursery with a volume of the Encyclopedia
Britannica, over which he would pore through an afternoon, while his
cotton cows and his Noah's ark were left neglected on the floor.
Against such a stubbornness Mr. Button's efforts were of little avail.
The sensation created in Baltimore was, at first, prodigious. What the
mishap would have cost the Buttons and their kinsfolk socially cannot
be determined, for the outbreak of the Civil War drew the city's
attention to other things. A few people who were unfailingly polite
racked their brains for compliments to give to the parents--and
finally hit upon the ingenious device of declaring that the baby
resembled his grandfather, a fact which, due to the standard state of
decay common to all men of seventy, could not be denied. Mr. and Mrs.
Roger Button were not pleased, and Benjamin's grandfather was
furiously insulted.
Benjamin, once he left the hospital, took life as he found it. Several
small boys were brought to see him, and he spent a stiff-jointed
afternoon trying to work up an interest in tops and marbles--he even
managed, quite accidentally, to break a kitchen window with a stone
from a sling shot, a feat which secretly delighted his father.
Thereafter Benjamin contrived to break something every day, but he did
these things only because they were expected of him, and because he
was by nature obliging.
When his grandfather's initial antagonism wore off, Benjamin and that
gentleman took enormous pleasure in one another's company. They would
sit for hours, these two, so far apart in age and experience, and,
like old cronies, discuss with tireless monotony the slow events of
the day. Benjamin felt more at ease in his grandfather's presence than
in his parents'--they seemed always somewhat in awe of him and,
despite the dictatorial authority they exercised over him, frequently
addressed him as "Mr."
He was as puzzled as any one else at the apparently advanced age of
his mind and body at birth. He read up on it in the medical journal,
but found that no such case had been previously recorded. At his
father's urging he made an honest attempt to play with other boys, and
frequently he joined in the milder games--football shook him up too
much, and he feared that in case of a fracture his ancient bones would
refuse to knit.
When he was five he was sent to kindergarten, where he initiated into
the art of pasting green paper on orange paper, of weaving colored
maps and manufacturing eternal cardboard necklaces. He was inclined to
drowse off to sleep in the middle of these tasks, a habit which both
irritated and frightened his young teacher. To his relief she
complained to his parents, and he was removed from the school. The
Roger Buttons told their friends that they felt he was too young.
By the time he was twelve years old his parents had grown used to him.
Indeed, so strong is the force of custom that they no longer felt that
he was different from any other child--except when some curious
anomaly reminded them of the fact. But one day a few weeks after his
twelfth birthday, while looking in the mirror, Benjamin made, or
thought he made, an astonishing discovery. Did his eyes deceive him,
or had his hair turned in the dozen years of his life from white to
iron-gray under its concealing dye? Was the network of wrinkles on his
face becoming less pronounced? Was his skin healthier and firmer, with
even a touch of ruddy winter color? He could not tell. He knew that
he no longer stooped, and that his physical condition had improved
since the early days of his life.
"Can it be----?" he thought to himself, or, rather, scarcely dared to
think.
He went to his father. "I am grown," he announced determinedly. "I
want to put on long trousers."
His father hesitated. "Well," he said finally, "I don't know. Fourteen
is the age for putting on long trousers--and you are only twelve."
"But you'll have to admit," protested Benjamin, "that I'm big for my
age."
His father looked at him with illusory speculation. "Oh, I'm not so
sure of that," he said. "I was as big as you when I was twelve."
This was not true-it was all part of Roger Button's silent agreement
with himself to believe in his son's normality.
Finally a compromise was reached. Benjamin was to continue to dye his
hair. He was to make a better attempt to play with boys of his own
age. He was not to wear his spectacles or carry a cane in the street.
In return for these concessions he was allowed his first suit of long
trousers....
1.2.2016
Dear readers,
I hope you liked the first chapter of "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button". Enjoy the second one:
(obrázek - zdroj: www.themetaplex.com)
II.
"Good-morning," Mr. Button said nervously, to the clerk in theChesapeake Dry Goods Company. "I want to buy some clothes for mychild."
unusually large-size child. Exceptionally--ah large."
ground desperately. He felt that the clerk must surely scent his
shameful secret.
clothes was repugnant to him. If, say, he could only find a very large
boy's suit, he might cut off that long and awful beard, dye the white
hair brown, and thus manage to conceal the worst, and to retain
something of his own self-respect--not to mention his position in
Baltimore society.
fit the new-born Button. He blamed the store, of course---in such
cases it is the thing to blame the store.
curiously.
find the youths' department in the next aisle."
pointed his finger toward a dressed dummy in the window display.
"There!" he exclaimed. "I'll take that suit, out there on the dummy."
least it is, but it's for fancy dress. You could wear it
yourself!"
the package at his son. "Here's your clothes," he snapped out.
quizzical eye.
made a monkey of--"
mind how funny you look. Put them on--or I'll--or I'll spank
you." He swallowed uneasily at the penultimate word, feeling
nevertheless that it was the proper thing to say.
respect--"you've lived longer; you know best. Just as you say."
violently.
costume consisted of dotted socks, pink pants, and a belted blouse
with a wide white collar. Over the latter waved the long whitish
beard, drooping almost to the waist. The effect was not good.
amputated a large section of the beard. But even with this improvement
the ensemble fell far short of perfection. The remaining brush of
scraggly hair, the watery eyes, the ancient teeth, seemed oddly out of
tone with the gaiety of the costume. Mr. Button, however, was
obdurate--he held out his hand. "Come along!" he said sternly.
dad?" he quavered as they walked from the nursery--"just 'baby' for a
while? till you think of a better name?"
we'll call you Methuselah."
"How old is your child, sir?"
"About six hours," answered Mr. Button, without due consideration.
"Babies' supply department in the rear."
"Why, I don't think--I'm not sure that's what I want. It's--he's an
"They have the largest child's sizes."
"Where is the boys' department?" inquired Mr. Button, shifting his
"Right here."
"Well----" He hesitated. The notion of dressing his son in men's
But a frantic inspection of the boys' department revealed no suits to
"How old did you say that boy of yours was?" demanded the clerk
"He's--sixteen."
"Oh, I beg your pardon. I thought you said six hours. You'll
Mr. Button turned miserably away. Then he stopped, brightened, and
The clerk stared. "Why," he protested, "that's not a child's suit. At
"Wrap it up," insisted his customer nervously. "That's what I want."
The astonished clerk obeyed.
Back at the hospital Mr. Button entered the nursery and almost threw
The old man untied the package and viewed the contents with a
"They look sort of funny to me," he complained, "I don't want to be
"You've made a monkey of me!" retorted Mr. Button fiercely. "Never you
"All right, father"--this with a grotesque simulation of filial
As before, the sound of the word "father" caused Mr. Button to start
"And hurry."
"I'm hurrying, father."
When his son was dressed Mr. Button regarded him with depression. The
"Wait!"
Mr. Button seized a hospital shears and with three quick snaps
His son took the hand trustingly. "What are you going to call me,
Mr. Button grunted. "I don't know," he answered harshly. "I think
8.1.2016
Dear readers,
you might know the film called "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" with Brad Pitt and Cate Blanchett. It is based on a story written by an American author Francis Scott Fitzgerald.
(obrázek - zdroj: www.myfusionpix.blogspot.com)
(obrázek - zdroj: www.airshipdaily.com)
Now you can read the first chapter of the story:
I
As long ago as 1860 it was the proper thing to be born at home. At
present, so I am told, the high gods of medicine have decreed that the
first cries of the young shall be uttered upon the anaesthetic air of
a hospital, preferably a fashionable one. So young Mr. and Mrs. Roger
Button were fifty years ahead of style when they decided, one day in
the summer of 1860, that their first baby should be born in a
hospital. Whether this anachronism had any bearing upon the
astonishing history I am about to set down will never be known.
I shall tell you what occurred, and let you judge for yourself.
The Roger Buttons held an enviable position, both social and
financial, in Antebellum Baltimore. They were related to the This
Family and the That Family, which, as every Southerner knew, entitled
them to membership in that enormous peerage which largely populated
the Confederacy. This was their first experience with the charming old
custom of having babies--Mr. Button was naturally nervous. He hoped it
would be a boy so that he could be sent to Yale College in
Connecticut, at which institution Mr. Button himself had been known
for four years by the somewhat obvious nickname of "Cuff."
On the September morning consecrated to the enormous event he arose
nervously at six o'clock dressed himself, adjusted an impeccable
stock, and hurried forth through the streets of Baltimore to the
hospital, to determine whether the darkness of the night had borne in
new life upon its bosom.
When he was approximately a hundred yards from the Maryland Private
Hospital for Ladies and Gentlemen he saw Doctor Keene, the family
physician, descending the front steps, rubbing his hands together with
a washing movement--as all doctors are required to do by the unwritten
ethics of their profession.
Mr. Roger Button, the president of Roger Button & Co., Wholesale
Hardware, began to run toward Doctor Keene with much less dignity than
was expected from a Southern gentleman of that picturesque period.
"Doctor Keene!" he called. "Oh, Doctor Keene!"
The doctor heard him, faced around, and stood waiting, a curious
expression settling on his harsh, medicinal face as Mr. Button drew
near.
"What happened?" demanded Mr. Button, as he came up in a gasping rush.
"What was it? How is she" A boy? Who is it? What---"
"Talk sense!" said Doctor Keene sharply, He appeared somewhat
irritated.
"Is the child born?" begged Mr. Button.
Doctor Keene frowned. "Why, yes, I suppose so--after a fashion." Again
he threw a curious glance at Mr. Button.
"Is my wife all right?"
"Yes."
"Is it a boy or a girl?"
"Here now!" cried Doctor Keene in a perfect passion of irritation,"
I'll ask you to go and see for yourself. Outrageous!" He snapped the
last word out in almost one syllable, then he turned away muttering:
"Do you imagine a case like this will help my professional reputation?
One more would ruin me--ruin anybody."
"What's the matter?" demanded Mr. Button appalled. "Triplets?"
"No, not triplets!" answered the doctor cuttingly. "What's more, you
can go and see for yourself. And get another doctor. I brought you
into the world, young man, and I've been physician to your family for
forty years, but I'm through with you! I don't want to see you or any
of your relatives ever again! Good-bye!"
Then he turned sharply, and without another word climbed into his
phaeton, which was waiting at the curbstone, and drove severely away.
Mr. Button stood there upon the sidewalk, stupefied and trembling from
head to foot. What horrible mishap had occurred? He had suddenly lost
all desire to go into the Maryland Private Hospital for Ladies and
Gentlemen--it was with the greatest difficulty that, a moment later,
he forced himself to mount the steps and enter the front door.
A nurse was sitting behind a desk in the opaque gloom of the hall.
Swallowing his shame, Mr. Button approached her.
"Good-morning," she remarked, looking up at him pleasantly.
"Good-morning. I--I am Mr. Button."
At this a look of utter terror spread itself over girl's face. She
rose to her feet and seemed about to fly from the hall, restraining
herself only with the most apparent difficulty.
"I want to see my child," said Mr. Button.
The nurse gave a little scream. "Oh--of course!" she cried
hysterically. "Upstairs. Right upstairs. Go--up!"
She pointed the direction, and Mr. Button, bathed in cool
perspiration, turned falteringly, and began to mount to the second
floor. In the upper hall he addressed another nurse who approached
him, basin in hand. "I'm Mr. Button," he managed to articulate. "I
want to see my----"
Clank! The basin clattered to the floor and rolled in the direction of
the stairs. Clank! Clank! I began a methodical decent as if sharing in
the general terror which this gentleman provoked.
"I want to see my child!" Mr. Button almost shrieked. He was on the
verge of collapse.
Clank! The basin reached the first floor. The nurse regained control
of herself, and threw Mr. Button a look of hearty contempt.
"All right, Mr. Button," she agreed in a hushed voice. "Very
well! But if you knew what a state it's put us all in this
morning! It's perfectly outrageous! The hospital will never have
a ghost of a reputation after----"
"Hurry!" he cried hoarsely. "I can't stand this!"
"Come this way, then, Mr. Button."
He dragged himself after her. At the end of a long hall they reached a
room from which proceeded a variety of howls--indeed, a room which, in
later parlance, would have been known as the "crying-room." They
entered.
"Well," gasped Mr. Button, "which is mine?"
"There!" said the nurse.
Mr. Button's eyes followed her pointing finger, and this is what he
saw. Wrapped in a voluminous white blanket, and partly crammed into
one of the cribs, there sat an old man apparently about seventy years
of age. His sparse hair was almost white, and from his chin dripped a
long smoke-colored beard, which waved absurdly back and forth, fanned
by the breeze coming in at the window. He looked up at Mr. Button with
dim, faded eyes in which lurked a puzzled question.
"Am I mad?" thundered Mr. Button, his terror resolving into rage. "Is
this some ghastly hospital joke?
"It doesn't seem like a joke to us," replied the nurse severely. "And
I don't know whether you're mad or not--but that is most certainly
your child."
The cool perspiration redoubled on Mr. Button's forehead. He closed
his eyes, and then, opening them, looked again. There was no
mistake--he was gazing at a man of threescore and ten--a baby
of threescore and ten, a baby whose feet hung over the sides of the
crib in which it was reposing.
The old man looked placidly from one to the other for a moment, and
then suddenly spoke in a cracked and ancient voice. "Are you my
father?" he demanded.
Mr. Button and the nurse started violently.
"Because if you are," went on the old man querulously, "I wish you'd
get me out of this place--or, at least, get them to put a comfortable
rocker in here,"
"Where in God's name did you come from? Who are you?" burst out Mr.
Button frantically.
"I can't tell you exactly who I am," replied the querulous
whine, "because I've only been born a few hours--but my last name is
certainly Button."
"You lie! You're an impostor!"
The old man turned wearily to the nurse. "Nice way to welcome a
new-born child," he complained in a weak voice. "Tell him he's wrong,
why don't you?"
"You're wrong. Mr. Button," said the nurse severely. "This is your
child, and you'll have to make the best of it. We're going to ask you
to take him home with you as soon as possible-some time to-day."
"Home?" repeated Mr. Button incredulously.
"Yes, we can't have him here. We really can't, you know?"
"I'm right glad of it," whined the old man. "This is a fine place to
keep a youngster of quiet tastes. With all this yelling and howling, I
haven't been able to get a wink of sleep. I asked for something to
eat"--here his voice rose to a shrill note of protest--"and they
brought me a bottle of milk!"
Mr. Button, sank down upon a chair near his son and concealed his face
in his hands. "My heavens!" he murmured, in an ecstasy of horror.
"What will people say? What must I do?"
"You'll have to take him home," insisted the nurse--"immediately!"
A grotesque picture formed itself with dreadful clarity before the
eyes of the tortured man--a picture of himself walking through the
crowded streets of the city with this appalling apparition stalking by
his side.
"I can't. I can't," he moaned.
People would stop to speak to him, and what was he going to say? He
would have to introduce this--this septuagenarian: "This is my son,
born early this morning." And then the old man would gather his
blanket around him and they would plod on, past the bustling stores,
the slave market--for a dark instant Mr. Button wished passionately
that his son was black--past the luxurious houses of the residential
district, past the home for the aged....
"Come! Pull yourself together," commanded the nurse.
"See here," the old man announced suddenly, "if you think I'm going to
walk home in this blanket, you're entirely mistaken."
"Babies always have blankets."
With a malicious crackle the old man held up a small white swaddling
garment. "Look!" he quavered. "This is what they had ready for
me."
"Babies always wear those," said the nurse primly.
"Well," said the old man, "this baby's not going to wear anything in
about two minutes. This blanket itches. They might at least have given
me a sheet."
"Keep it on! Keep it on!" said Mr. Button hurriedly. He turned to the
nurse. "What'll I do?"
"Go down town and buy your son some clothes."
Mr. Button's son's voice followed him down into the: hall: "And a
cane, father. I want to have a cane."
Mr. Button banged the outer door savagely....
Mgr.Radka Skočdopolová
2.12.2015
Dear readers,
you can read the first chapter of a very famous story called Robinson
Crusoe which was written by an English author Daniel Defoe.
Chapter 1
I was born in York, England in 1632. My father was German and my mother was
English. My father’s name was Kreutznaer, but people in England started to call
him Crusoe. My mother’s family was called Robinson. This is why I am called
Robinson Crusoe.
This is how my unhappy adventures began.
Mgr. Radka Skočdopolová
úterý, 20.5.2014
20.4.2016
Dear readers, in the month of April I would like to share some jokes. I hope they will make you smile:-)
1.3.2016
Dear readers,
here is the third chapter of "The curious Case of Benjamin Button". Have fun!
III.
1.2.2016
Dear readers, in the month of April I would like to share some jokes. I hope they will make you smile:-)
1.3.2016
Dear readers,
here is the third chapter of "The curious Case of Benjamin Button". Have fun!
III.
Even after the new addition to the Button family had had his hair cut
short and then dyed to a sparse unnatural black, had had his face
shaved so dose that it glistened, and had been attired in small-boy
clothes made to order by a flabbergasted tailor, it was impossible for
Button to ignore the fact that his son was a excuse for a first family
baby. Despite his aged stoop, Benjamin Button--for it was by this name
they called him instead of by the appropriate but invidious
Methuselah--was five feet eight inches tall. His clothes did not
conceal this, nor did the clipping and dyeing of his eyebrows disguise
the fact that the eyes under--were faded and watery and tired. In
fact, the baby-nurse who had been engaged in advance left the house
after one look, in a state of considerable indignation.
short and then dyed to a sparse unnatural black, had had his face
shaved so dose that it glistened, and had been attired in small-boy
clothes made to order by a flabbergasted tailor, it was impossible for
Button to ignore the fact that his son was a excuse for a first family
baby. Despite his aged stoop, Benjamin Button--for it was by this name
they called him instead of by the appropriate but invidious
Methuselah--was five feet eight inches tall. His clothes did not
conceal this, nor did the clipping and dyeing of his eyebrows disguise
the fact that the eyes under--were faded and watery and tired. In
fact, the baby-nurse who had been engaged in advance left the house
after one look, in a state of considerable indignation.
But Mr. Button persisted in his unwavering purpose. Benjamin was a
baby, and a baby he should remain. At first he declared that if
Benjamin didn't like warm milk he could go without food altogether,
but he was finally prevailed upon to allow his son bread and butter,
and even oatmeal by way of a compromise. One day he brought home a
rattle and, giving it to Benjamin, insisted in no uncertain terms that
he should "play with it," whereupon the old man took it with--a weary
expression and could be heard jingling it obediently at intervals
throughout the day.
baby, and a baby he should remain. At first he declared that if
Benjamin didn't like warm milk he could go without food altogether,
but he was finally prevailed upon to allow his son bread and butter,
and even oatmeal by way of a compromise. One day he brought home a
rattle and, giving it to Benjamin, insisted in no uncertain terms that
he should "play with it," whereupon the old man took it with--a weary
expression and could be heard jingling it obediently at intervals
throughout the day.
There can be no doubt, though, that the rattle bored him, and that he
found other and more soothing amusements when he was left alone. For
instance, Mr. Button discovered one day that during the preceding week
be had smoked more cigars than ever before--a phenomenon, which was
explained a few days later when, entering the nursery unexpectedly, he
found the room full of faint blue haze and Benjamin, with a guilty
expression on his face, trying to conceal the butt of a dark Havana.
This, of course, called for a severe spanking, but Mr. Button found
that he could not bring himself to administer it. He merely warned his
son that he would "stunt his growth."
found other and more soothing amusements when he was left alone. For
instance, Mr. Button discovered one day that during the preceding week
be had smoked more cigars than ever before--a phenomenon, which was
explained a few days later when, entering the nursery unexpectedly, he
found the room full of faint blue haze and Benjamin, with a guilty
expression on his face, trying to conceal the butt of a dark Havana.
This, of course, called for a severe spanking, but Mr. Button found
that he could not bring himself to administer it. He merely warned his
son that he would "stunt his growth."
Nevertheless he persisted in his attitude. He brought home lead
soldiers, he brought toy trains, he brought large pleasant animals
made of cotton, and, to perfect the illusion which he was
creating--for himself at least--he passionately demanded of the clerk
in the toy-store whether "the paint would come oft the pink duck if
the baby put it in his mouth." But, despite all his father's efforts,
Benjamin refused to be interested. He would steal down the back stairs
and return to the nursery with a volume of the Encyclopedia
Britannica, over which he would pore through an afternoon, while his
cotton cows and his Noah's ark were left neglected on the floor.
Against such a stubbornness Mr. Button's efforts were of little avail.
soldiers, he brought toy trains, he brought large pleasant animals
made of cotton, and, to perfect the illusion which he was
creating--for himself at least--he passionately demanded of the clerk
in the toy-store whether "the paint would come oft the pink duck if
the baby put it in his mouth." But, despite all his father's efforts,
Benjamin refused to be interested. He would steal down the back stairs
and return to the nursery with a volume of the Encyclopedia
Britannica, over which he would pore through an afternoon, while his
cotton cows and his Noah's ark were left neglected on the floor.
Against such a stubbornness Mr. Button's efforts were of little avail.
The sensation created in Baltimore was, at first, prodigious. What the
mishap would have cost the Buttons and their kinsfolk socially cannot
be determined, for the outbreak of the Civil War drew the city's
attention to other things. A few people who were unfailingly polite
racked their brains for compliments to give to the parents--and
finally hit upon the ingenious device of declaring that the baby
resembled his grandfather, a fact which, due to the standard state of
decay common to all men of seventy, could not be denied. Mr. and Mrs.
Roger Button were not pleased, and Benjamin's grandfather was
furiously insulted.
mishap would have cost the Buttons and their kinsfolk socially cannot
be determined, for the outbreak of the Civil War drew the city's
attention to other things. A few people who were unfailingly polite
racked their brains for compliments to give to the parents--and
finally hit upon the ingenious device of declaring that the baby
resembled his grandfather, a fact which, due to the standard state of
decay common to all men of seventy, could not be denied. Mr. and Mrs.
Roger Button were not pleased, and Benjamin's grandfather was
furiously insulted.
Benjamin, once he left the hospital, took life as he found it. Several
small boys were brought to see him, and he spent a stiff-jointed
afternoon trying to work up an interest in tops and marbles--he even
managed, quite accidentally, to break a kitchen window with a stone
from a sling shot, a feat which secretly delighted his father.
small boys were brought to see him, and he spent a stiff-jointed
afternoon trying to work up an interest in tops and marbles--he even
managed, quite accidentally, to break a kitchen window with a stone
from a sling shot, a feat which secretly delighted his father.
Thereafter Benjamin contrived to break something every day, but he did
these things only because they were expected of him, and because he
was by nature obliging.
these things only because they were expected of him, and because he
was by nature obliging.
When his grandfather's initial antagonism wore off, Benjamin and that
gentleman took enormous pleasure in one another's company. They would
sit for hours, these two, so far apart in age and experience, and,
like old cronies, discuss with tireless monotony the slow events of
the day. Benjamin felt more at ease in his grandfather's presence than
in his parents'--they seemed always somewhat in awe of him and,
despite the dictatorial authority they exercised over him, frequently
addressed him as "Mr."
gentleman took enormous pleasure in one another's company. They would
sit for hours, these two, so far apart in age and experience, and,
like old cronies, discuss with tireless monotony the slow events of
the day. Benjamin felt more at ease in his grandfather's presence than
in his parents'--they seemed always somewhat in awe of him and,
despite the dictatorial authority they exercised over him, frequently
addressed him as "Mr."
He was as puzzled as any one else at the apparently advanced age of
his mind and body at birth. He read up on it in the medical journal,
but found that no such case had been previously recorded. At his
father's urging he made an honest attempt to play with other boys, and
frequently he joined in the milder games--football shook him up too
much, and he feared that in case of a fracture his ancient bones would
refuse to knit.
his mind and body at birth. He read up on it in the medical journal,
but found that no such case had been previously recorded. At his
father's urging he made an honest attempt to play with other boys, and
frequently he joined in the milder games--football shook him up too
much, and he feared that in case of a fracture his ancient bones would
refuse to knit.
When he was five he was sent to kindergarten, where he initiated into
the art of pasting green paper on orange paper, of weaving colored
maps and manufacturing eternal cardboard necklaces. He was inclined to
drowse off to sleep in the middle of these tasks, a habit which both
irritated and frightened his young teacher. To his relief she
complained to his parents, and he was removed from the school. The
Roger Buttons told their friends that they felt he was too young.
the art of pasting green paper on orange paper, of weaving colored
maps and manufacturing eternal cardboard necklaces. He was inclined to
drowse off to sleep in the middle of these tasks, a habit which both
irritated and frightened his young teacher. To his relief she
complained to his parents, and he was removed from the school. The
Roger Buttons told their friends that they felt he was too young.
By the time he was twelve years old his parents had grown used to him.
Indeed, so strong is the force of custom that they no longer felt that
he was different from any other child--except when some curious
anomaly reminded them of the fact. But one day a few weeks after his
twelfth birthday, while looking in the mirror, Benjamin made, or
thought he made, an astonishing discovery. Did his eyes deceive him,
or had his hair turned in the dozen years of his life from white to
iron-gray under its concealing dye? Was the network of wrinkles on his
face becoming less pronounced? Was his skin healthier and firmer, with
even a touch of ruddy winter color? He could not tell. He knew that
he no longer stooped, and that his physical condition had improved
since the early days of his life.
Indeed, so strong is the force of custom that they no longer felt that
he was different from any other child--except when some curious
anomaly reminded them of the fact. But one day a few weeks after his
twelfth birthday, while looking in the mirror, Benjamin made, or
thought he made, an astonishing discovery. Did his eyes deceive him,
or had his hair turned in the dozen years of his life from white to
iron-gray under its concealing dye? Was the network of wrinkles on his
face becoming less pronounced? Was his skin healthier and firmer, with
even a touch of ruddy winter color? He could not tell. He knew that
he no longer stooped, and that his physical condition had improved
since the early days of his life.
"Can it be----?" he thought to himself, or, rather, scarcely dared to
think.
think.
He went to his father. "I am grown," he announced determinedly. "I
want to put on long trousers."
want to put on long trousers."
His father hesitated. "Well," he said finally, "I don't know. Fourteen
is the age for putting on long trousers--and you are only twelve."
is the age for putting on long trousers--and you are only twelve."
"But you'll have to admit," protested Benjamin, "that I'm big for my
age."
age."
His father looked at him with illusory speculation. "Oh, I'm not so
sure of that," he said. "I was as big as you when I was twelve."
sure of that," he said. "I was as big as you when I was twelve."
This was not true-it was all part of Roger Button's silent agreement
with himself to believe in his son's normality.
with himself to believe in his son's normality.
Finally a compromise was reached. Benjamin was to continue to dye his
hair. He was to make a better attempt to play with boys of his own
age. He was not to wear his spectacles or carry a cane in the street.
In return for these concessions he was allowed his first suit of long
trousers....
hair. He was to make a better attempt to play with boys of his own
age. He was not to wear his spectacles or carry a cane in the street.
In return for these concessions he was allowed his first suit of long
trousers....
Dear readers,
(obrázek - zdroj: www.themetaplex.com)
II.
"Good-morning," Mr. Button said nervously, to the clerk in theChesapeake Dry Goods Company. "I want to buy some clothes for mychild."unusually large-size child. Exceptionally--ah large."
ground desperately. He felt that the clerk must surely scent his
shameful secret.
clothes was repugnant to him. If, say, he could only find a very large
boy's suit, he might cut off that long and awful beard, dye the white
hair brown, and thus manage to conceal the worst, and to retain
something of his own self-respect--not to mention his position in
Baltimore society.
fit the new-born Button. He blamed the store, of course---in such
cases it is the thing to blame the store.
curiously.
find the youths' department in the next aisle."
pointed his finger toward a dressed dummy in the window display.
"There!" he exclaimed. "I'll take that suit, out there on the dummy."
least it is, but it's for fancy dress. You could wear it
yourself!"
the package at his son. "Here's your clothes," he snapped out.
quizzical eye.
made a monkey of--"
mind how funny you look. Put them on--or I'll--or I'll spank
you." He swallowed uneasily at the penultimate word, feeling
nevertheless that it was the proper thing to say.
respect--"you've lived longer; you know best. Just as you say."
violently.
costume consisted of dotted socks, pink pants, and a belted blouse
with a wide white collar. Over the latter waved the long whitish
beard, drooping almost to the waist. The effect was not good.
amputated a large section of the beard. But even with this improvement
the ensemble fell far short of perfection. The remaining brush of
scraggly hair, the watery eyes, the ancient teeth, seemed oddly out of
tone with the gaiety of the costume. Mr. Button, however, was
obdurate--he held out his hand. "Come along!" he said sternly.
dad?" he quavered as they walked from the nursery--"just 'baby' for a
while? till you think of a better name?"
we'll call you Methuselah."
"How old is your child, sir?"
"About six hours," answered Mr. Button, without due consideration.
"Babies' supply department in the rear."
"Why, I don't think--I'm not sure that's what I want. It's--he's an
"They have the largest child's sizes."
"Where is the boys' department?" inquired Mr. Button, shifting his
"Right here."
"Well----" He hesitated. The notion of dressing his son in men's
But a frantic inspection of the boys' department revealed no suits to
"How old did you say that boy of yours was?" demanded the clerk
"He's--sixteen."
"Oh, I beg your pardon. I thought you said six hours. You'll
Mr. Button turned miserably away. Then he stopped, brightened, and
The clerk stared. "Why," he protested, "that's not a child's suit. At
"Wrap it up," insisted his customer nervously. "That's what I want."
The astonished clerk obeyed.
Back at the hospital Mr. Button entered the nursery and almost threw
The old man untied the package and viewed the contents with a
"They look sort of funny to me," he complained, "I don't want to be
"You've made a monkey of me!" retorted Mr. Button fiercely. "Never you
"All right, father"--this with a grotesque simulation of filial
As before, the sound of the word "father" caused Mr. Button to start
"And hurry."
"I'm hurrying, father."
When his son was dressed Mr. Button regarded him with depression. The
"Wait!"
Mr. Button seized a hospital shears and with three quick snaps
His son took the hand trustingly. "What are you going to call me,
Mr. Button grunted. "I don't know," he answered harshly. "I think
8.1.2016
Dear readers,
(obrázek - zdroj: www.myfusionpix.blogspot.com)
(obrázek - zdroj: www.airshipdaily.com)
Now you can read the first chapter of the story:
I
As long ago as 1860 it was the proper thing to be born at home. At
present, so I am told, the high gods of medicine have decreed that the
first cries of the young shall be uttered upon the anaesthetic air of
a hospital, preferably a fashionable one. So young Mr. and Mrs. Roger
Button were fifty years ahead of style when they decided, one day in
the summer of 1860, that their first baby should be born in a
hospital. Whether this anachronism had any bearing upon the
astonishing history I am about to set down will never be known.
present, so I am told, the high gods of medicine have decreed that the
first cries of the young shall be uttered upon the anaesthetic air of
a hospital, preferably a fashionable one. So young Mr. and Mrs. Roger
Button were fifty years ahead of style when they decided, one day in
the summer of 1860, that their first baby should be born in a
hospital. Whether this anachronism had any bearing upon the
astonishing history I am about to set down will never be known.
I shall tell you what occurred, and let you judge for yourself.
The Roger Buttons held an enviable position, both social and
financial, in Antebellum Baltimore. They were related to the This
Family and the That Family, which, as every Southerner knew, entitled
them to membership in that enormous peerage which largely populated
the Confederacy. This was their first experience with the charming old
custom of having babies--Mr. Button was naturally nervous. He hoped it
would be a boy so that he could be sent to Yale College in
Connecticut, at which institution Mr. Button himself had been known
for four years by the somewhat obvious nickname of "Cuff."
financial, in Antebellum Baltimore. They were related to the This
Family and the That Family, which, as every Southerner knew, entitled
them to membership in that enormous peerage which largely populated
the Confederacy. This was their first experience with the charming old
custom of having babies--Mr. Button was naturally nervous. He hoped it
would be a boy so that he could be sent to Yale College in
Connecticut, at which institution Mr. Button himself had been known
for four years by the somewhat obvious nickname of "Cuff."
On the September morning consecrated to the enormous event he arose
nervously at six o'clock dressed himself, adjusted an impeccable
stock, and hurried forth through the streets of Baltimore to the
hospital, to determine whether the darkness of the night had borne in
new life upon its bosom.
nervously at six o'clock dressed himself, adjusted an impeccable
stock, and hurried forth through the streets of Baltimore to the
hospital, to determine whether the darkness of the night had borne in
new life upon its bosom.
When he was approximately a hundred yards from the Maryland Private
Hospital for Ladies and Gentlemen he saw Doctor Keene, the family
physician, descending the front steps, rubbing his hands together with
a washing movement--as all doctors are required to do by the unwritten
ethics of their profession.
Hospital for Ladies and Gentlemen he saw Doctor Keene, the family
physician, descending the front steps, rubbing his hands together with
a washing movement--as all doctors are required to do by the unwritten
ethics of their profession.
Mr. Roger Button, the president of Roger Button & Co., Wholesale
Hardware, began to run toward Doctor Keene with much less dignity than
was expected from a Southern gentleman of that picturesque period.
"Doctor Keene!" he called. "Oh, Doctor Keene!"
Hardware, began to run toward Doctor Keene with much less dignity than
was expected from a Southern gentleman of that picturesque period.
"Doctor Keene!" he called. "Oh, Doctor Keene!"
The doctor heard him, faced around, and stood waiting, a curious
expression settling on his harsh, medicinal face as Mr. Button drew
near.
expression settling on his harsh, medicinal face as Mr. Button drew
near.
"What happened?" demanded Mr. Button, as he came up in a gasping rush.
"What was it? How is she" A boy? Who is it? What---"
"What was it? How is she" A boy? Who is it? What---"
"Talk sense!" said Doctor Keene sharply, He appeared somewhat
irritated.
irritated.
"Is the child born?" begged Mr. Button.
Doctor Keene frowned. "Why, yes, I suppose so--after a fashion." Again
he threw a curious glance at Mr. Button.
he threw a curious glance at Mr. Button.
"Is my wife all right?"
"Yes."
"Is it a boy or a girl?"
"Here now!" cried Doctor Keene in a perfect passion of irritation,"
I'll ask you to go and see for yourself. Outrageous!" He snapped the
last word out in almost one syllable, then he turned away muttering:
"Do you imagine a case like this will help my professional reputation?
One more would ruin me--ruin anybody."
I'll ask you to go and see for yourself. Outrageous!" He snapped the
last word out in almost one syllable, then he turned away muttering:
"Do you imagine a case like this will help my professional reputation?
One more would ruin me--ruin anybody."
"What's the matter?" demanded Mr. Button appalled. "Triplets?"
"No, not triplets!" answered the doctor cuttingly. "What's more, you
can go and see for yourself. And get another doctor. I brought you
into the world, young man, and I've been physician to your family for
forty years, but I'm through with you! I don't want to see you or any
of your relatives ever again! Good-bye!"
can go and see for yourself. And get another doctor. I brought you
into the world, young man, and I've been physician to your family for
forty years, but I'm through with you! I don't want to see you or any
of your relatives ever again! Good-bye!"
Then he turned sharply, and without another word climbed into his
phaeton, which was waiting at the curbstone, and drove severely away.
phaeton, which was waiting at the curbstone, and drove severely away.
Mr. Button stood there upon the sidewalk, stupefied and trembling from
head to foot. What horrible mishap had occurred? He had suddenly lost
all desire to go into the Maryland Private Hospital for Ladies and
Gentlemen--it was with the greatest difficulty that, a moment later,
he forced himself to mount the steps and enter the front door.
head to foot. What horrible mishap had occurred? He had suddenly lost
all desire to go into the Maryland Private Hospital for Ladies and
Gentlemen--it was with the greatest difficulty that, a moment later,
he forced himself to mount the steps and enter the front door.
A nurse was sitting behind a desk in the opaque gloom of the hall.
Swallowing his shame, Mr. Button approached her.
Swallowing his shame, Mr. Button approached her.
"Good-morning," she remarked, looking up at him pleasantly.
"Good-morning. I--I am Mr. Button."
At this a look of utter terror spread itself over girl's face. She
rose to her feet and seemed about to fly from the hall, restraining
herself only with the most apparent difficulty.
rose to her feet and seemed about to fly from the hall, restraining
herself only with the most apparent difficulty.
"I want to see my child," said Mr. Button.
The nurse gave a little scream. "Oh--of course!" she cried
hysterically. "Upstairs. Right upstairs. Go--up!"
hysterically. "Upstairs. Right upstairs. Go--up!"
She pointed the direction, and Mr. Button, bathed in cool
perspiration, turned falteringly, and began to mount to the second
floor. In the upper hall he addressed another nurse who approached
him, basin in hand. "I'm Mr. Button," he managed to articulate. "I
want to see my----"
perspiration, turned falteringly, and began to mount to the second
floor. In the upper hall he addressed another nurse who approached
him, basin in hand. "I'm Mr. Button," he managed to articulate. "I
want to see my----"
Clank! The basin clattered to the floor and rolled in the direction of
the stairs. Clank! Clank! I began a methodical decent as if sharing in
the general terror which this gentleman provoked.
the stairs. Clank! Clank! I began a methodical decent as if sharing in
the general terror which this gentleman provoked.
"I want to see my child!" Mr. Button almost shrieked. He was on the
verge of collapse.
verge of collapse.
Clank! The basin reached the first floor. The nurse regained control
of herself, and threw Mr. Button a look of hearty contempt.
of herself, and threw Mr. Button a look of hearty contempt.
"All right, Mr. Button," she agreed in a hushed voice. "Very
well! But if you knew what a state it's put us all in this
morning! It's perfectly outrageous! The hospital will never have
a ghost of a reputation after----"
well! But if you knew what a state it's put us all in this
morning! It's perfectly outrageous! The hospital will never have
a ghost of a reputation after----"
"Hurry!" he cried hoarsely. "I can't stand this!"
"Come this way, then, Mr. Button."
He dragged himself after her. At the end of a long hall they reached a
room from which proceeded a variety of howls--indeed, a room which, in
later parlance, would have been known as the "crying-room." They
entered.
room from which proceeded a variety of howls--indeed, a room which, in
later parlance, would have been known as the "crying-room." They
entered.
"Well," gasped Mr. Button, "which is mine?"
"There!" said the nurse.
Mr. Button's eyes followed her pointing finger, and this is what he
saw. Wrapped in a voluminous white blanket, and partly crammed into
one of the cribs, there sat an old man apparently about seventy years
of age. His sparse hair was almost white, and from his chin dripped a
long smoke-colored beard, which waved absurdly back and forth, fanned
by the breeze coming in at the window. He looked up at Mr. Button with
dim, faded eyes in which lurked a puzzled question.
saw. Wrapped in a voluminous white blanket, and partly crammed into
one of the cribs, there sat an old man apparently about seventy years
of age. His sparse hair was almost white, and from his chin dripped a
long smoke-colored beard, which waved absurdly back and forth, fanned
by the breeze coming in at the window. He looked up at Mr. Button with
dim, faded eyes in which lurked a puzzled question.
"Am I mad?" thundered Mr. Button, his terror resolving into rage. "Is
this some ghastly hospital joke?
this some ghastly hospital joke?
"It doesn't seem like a joke to us," replied the nurse severely. "And
I don't know whether you're mad or not--but that is most certainly
your child."
I don't know whether you're mad or not--but that is most certainly
your child."
The cool perspiration redoubled on Mr. Button's forehead. He closed
his eyes, and then, opening them, looked again. There was no
mistake--he was gazing at a man of threescore and ten--a baby
of threescore and ten, a baby whose feet hung over the sides of the
crib in which it was reposing.
his eyes, and then, opening them, looked again. There was no
mistake--he was gazing at a man of threescore and ten--a baby
of threescore and ten, a baby whose feet hung over the sides of the
crib in which it was reposing.
The old man looked placidly from one to the other for a moment, and
then suddenly spoke in a cracked and ancient voice. "Are you my
father?" he demanded.
then suddenly spoke in a cracked and ancient voice. "Are you my
father?" he demanded.
Mr. Button and the nurse started violently.
"Because if you are," went on the old man querulously, "I wish you'd
get me out of this place--or, at least, get them to put a comfortable
rocker in here,"
get me out of this place--or, at least, get them to put a comfortable
rocker in here,"
"Where in God's name did you come from? Who are you?" burst out Mr.
Button frantically.
Button frantically.
"I can't tell you exactly who I am," replied the querulous
whine, "because I've only been born a few hours--but my last name is
certainly Button."
whine, "because I've only been born a few hours--but my last name is
certainly Button."
"You lie! You're an impostor!"
The old man turned wearily to the nurse. "Nice way to welcome a
new-born child," he complained in a weak voice. "Tell him he's wrong,
why don't you?"
new-born child," he complained in a weak voice. "Tell him he's wrong,
why don't you?"
"You're wrong. Mr. Button," said the nurse severely. "This is your
child, and you'll have to make the best of it. We're going to ask you
to take him home with you as soon as possible-some time to-day."
child, and you'll have to make the best of it. We're going to ask you
to take him home with you as soon as possible-some time to-day."
"Home?" repeated Mr. Button incredulously.
"Yes, we can't have him here. We really can't, you know?"
"I'm right glad of it," whined the old man. "This is a fine place to
keep a youngster of quiet tastes. With all this yelling and howling, I
haven't been able to get a wink of sleep. I asked for something to
eat"--here his voice rose to a shrill note of protest--"and they
brought me a bottle of milk!"
keep a youngster of quiet tastes. With all this yelling and howling, I
haven't been able to get a wink of sleep. I asked for something to
eat"--here his voice rose to a shrill note of protest--"and they
brought me a bottle of milk!"
Mr. Button, sank down upon a chair near his son and concealed his face
in his hands. "My heavens!" he murmured, in an ecstasy of horror.
"What will people say? What must I do?"
in his hands. "My heavens!" he murmured, in an ecstasy of horror.
"What will people say? What must I do?"
"You'll have to take him home," insisted the nurse--"immediately!"
A grotesque picture formed itself with dreadful clarity before the
eyes of the tortured man--a picture of himself walking through the
crowded streets of the city with this appalling apparition stalking by
his side.
eyes of the tortured man--a picture of himself walking through the
crowded streets of the city with this appalling apparition stalking by
his side.
"I can't. I can't," he moaned.
People would stop to speak to him, and what was he going to say? He
would have to introduce this--this septuagenarian: "This is my son,
born early this morning." And then the old man would gather his
blanket around him and they would plod on, past the bustling stores,
the slave market--for a dark instant Mr. Button wished passionately
that his son was black--past the luxurious houses of the residential
district, past the home for the aged....
would have to introduce this--this septuagenarian: "This is my son,
born early this morning." And then the old man would gather his
blanket around him and they would plod on, past the bustling stores,
the slave market--for a dark instant Mr. Button wished passionately
that his son was black--past the luxurious houses of the residential
district, past the home for the aged....
"Come! Pull yourself together," commanded the nurse.
"See here," the old man announced suddenly, "if you think I'm going to
walk home in this blanket, you're entirely mistaken."
walk home in this blanket, you're entirely mistaken."
"Babies always have blankets."
With a malicious crackle the old man held up a small white swaddling
garment. "Look!" he quavered. "This is what they had ready for
me."
garment. "Look!" he quavered. "This is what they had ready for
me."
"Babies always wear those," said the nurse primly.
"Well," said the old man, "this baby's not going to wear anything in
about two minutes. This blanket itches. They might at least have given
me a sheet."
about two minutes. This blanket itches. They might at least have given
me a sheet."
"Keep it on! Keep it on!" said Mr. Button hurriedly. He turned to the
nurse. "What'll I do?"
nurse. "What'll I do?"
"Go down town and buy your son some clothes."
Mr. Button's son's voice followed him down into the: hall: "And a
cane, father. I want to have a cane."
cane, father. I want to have a cane."
Mr. Button banged the outer door savagely....
Mgr.Radka Skočdopolová
Mgr.Radka Skočdopolová
2.12.2015
Dear readers,
you can read the first chapter of a very famous story called Robinson
Crusoe which was written by an English author Daniel Defoe.
Have fun!
Chapter 1
I was born in York, England in 1632. My father was German and my mother was
English. My father’s name was Kreutznaer, but people in England started to call
him Crusoe. My mother’s family was called Robinson. This is why I am called
Robinson Crusoe.
I had two older brothers. The oldest one joined the army and was killed in
battle. The middle one disappeared and we never heard of him again. I was
well-educated and my father wanted me to study law, but I wanted to go to sea.
Nothing could make me stay at home and become a lawyer.
I was 18 years old when my father called me to his room. He was old and ill
and he had to stay in bed. My father wanted to know why I wanted to go to sea.
I could stay at home, study and live happily in my country. He told me that
travelling by sea was dangerous. He warned me that I would lose peace and the
comfort of my home if I went to sea. My father also told me that if I went
abroad, I could die like my oldest brother. He started crying and he couldn’t
continue.
My father’s advice and warnings made me think. I slowly forgot my dream of
travelling by sea. However, my decision to stay at home didn’t last long. I
decided to talk to my mother, and tell her that I wanted to travel. I told her
how much I wanted to go. I told her how much I wanted to see the world. I asked
her to talk to my father, as I wanted her to change my father’s mind. I
promised her that if I didn’t like the sea, I would come back. My mother didn’t
agree. She also didn’t want me to go abroad.
I stayed home one more year. I was thinking about my parents and my dreams
the whole time. One day in September, I was in the town of Hull. A friend of
mine was going with his father’s ship to London. I was invited to go with him
for free. I wasn’t prepared and my parents didn’t know about this, but I got on
the ship on that September day.
This is how my unhappy adventures began.
This is how my unhappy adventures began.
To be continued.......
Mgr. Radka Skočdopolová
úterý, 20.5.2014
Sir Nicholas Winton turns 105
Hero arranged for trains to save Czechoslovakia's Jewish children
Sir Nicholas Winton turned 105 years old May 19. He is known for saving at least 669 children from the Holocaust and is sometimes called the British Schindler.
His deeds went largely unknown until 1988 when his wife, Grete, found a scrapbook detailing his efforts to get the mostly Jewish children out of German-occupied Czechoslovakia.
Winton organized train transports for the children from Czechoslovakia to Britain in 1939. He secured departure permits for them from Germans, entry permits from the British authorities and admission to British families. These children would otherwise have ended up in concentration camps with a tiny chance of surviving.
In all, eight trains with children were able to reach Britain. A ninth train was scheduled for Sept. 3, 1939, but could not leave because World War II had started. The extended families of those who were saved now numbers more than 6,000 people.
Winton was knighted by Queen Elizabeth II in 2002.
In January of this year he again was nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize by the Czech lower house. He was first nominated in 2008.
He became known to the public after the BBC television made a documentary about him in 1988.
Slovak-born director Matej Mináč has shot several films based on Winton's story: the 1999 feature film All My Loved Ones (1999), the 2002 Emmy-winning documentary Power of Good: Nicholas Winton (2002) and the 2011 documentary Nicky's Family (2011), with acted sequences.
In 1998, he received a high Czech state decoration, the Order of Tomáš Garrigue Masaryk. An asteroid was named for him in 1998 as well by two Czech astronomers at the Kleť Observatory in south Bohemia.
His fame has spread to the US as well. In 2013 he was honored with a plaque in Illinois. Two of the people he saved were on hand for the ceremony, but Winton's doctors urged him not to travel. Winton has long been a member of Rotary International, a service organization. He was the first inductee to the Rotarian Peace Hall of Fame, located in the Illinois Holocaust Museum and Education Center in Skokie, Illinois.
On the 70th anniversary of the rescue trains in 2009, a statue of Sir Nicholas was unveiled at Prague's main train station Hlavní nádraží. A train with some of people that he saved went from Prague to London to mark the anniversary. Winton met the arriving train.
Another statue is at the Maidenhead railway station in England, where Sir Nicholas is a member and former president of the Maidenhead Rotary Club.
For his 100th birthday Winton flew in a micro-light plane at the White Waltham Airfield in Berkshire, UK. Judy Leden, a world champion hang-glider and micro-light pilot whose mother was saved by him, flew to the airport from Derbyshire to take him on a flight.
Mgr. Kamila Bendová
neděle, 20.4. 2014
Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival
The Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival (commonly known simply as Coachella or the Coachella Festival) is an annual two-weekend, three-day music and arts festival held at the Empire Polo Club in Indio, California, located in the Inland Empire's Coachella Valley in the Colorado Desert. It was founded by Paul Tollett in 1999 and is organized by Goldenvoice, a subsidiary of AEG Live. The event features many genres of music, including rock, indie, hip hop, and electronic dance music, as well as art installations and sculptures. Across the grounds, several stages continuously host live music. The main stages are: Coachella Stage, Outdoor Theatre, Gobi Tent, Mojave Tent, and the Sahara Tent; a smaller Oasis Dome was used in 2006 and 2011, while a new Yuma stage was introduced in 2013.
The festival's origins trace back to a 1993 concert that Pearl Jam performed at the Empire Polo Club while boycotting venues controlled by Ticketmaster. The show validated the site's viability for hosting large events, leading to the inaugural Coachella Festival being held in October 1999 over two days. After no event was held in 2000, the festival returned on an annual basis beginning in April 2001 as a single-day event. In 2002, the festival reverted to a two-day format. Coachella was expanded to a third day in 2007 and eventually a second weekend in 2012. Organizers began permitting spectators to camp on the grounds in 2003, one of several expansions and additions of amenities that have been made in the festival's history.
Coachella showcases popular and established musical artists, as well as emerging artists and reunited groups; the 2014 festival will feature 184 artists.Notable appearances in the past include: Amy Winehouse, Dr. Dre and Snoop Dogg, Prince, Paul McCartney, Arcade Fire, Wu-Tang Clan, The Killers, Radiohead, Daft Punk, Madonna, The Cure,Kanye West, The Black Keys, Rage Against the Machine, Beck, Nine Inch Nails, The Strokes, The White Stripes, Jay-Z, Beastie Boys, Muse, Red Hot Chili Peppers, and Foo Fighters. Coachella is one of the largest, most famous, and most profitable music festivals in the United States. In 2010, it drew about 75,000 people each day, for an estimated attendance of 225,000 people per weekend. According to Billboard Boxscore, the 2013 festival's two weekends grossed $67 million, making it the highest-grossing festival ever.
Mgr. Kamila Bendová
________________________________________________________________
neděle, 20.4. 2014
Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival
VÁCLAV HAVEL TO BE HONORED WITH BUST IN
FREEDOM FOYER
The House of Representatives has unanimously voted to honor Václav Havel, the first president of the Czech Republic, with a bust in the U.S. Capitol’s Freedom Foyer. H. Res. 506, a bipartisan resolution authored by Foreign Affairs Committee Chairman Ed Royce (R-CA), authorizes this tribute to the playwright turned freedom fighter who led the Velvet Revolution, which began on November 17, 1989. On that day nearly 25 years ago, a student demonstration in Prague triggered the chain of events that peacefully brought down the communist regime in Czechoslovakia. Only three months later, Havel stood before the United States Congress as the leader of his people. “History is accelerating,” he said. “I believe that once again it will be the human mind that will notice this acceleration, give it a name and transform those words into deeds.” As fast as events were moving, Havel’s path from playwright to political leader was anything but swift – something Chairman Royce noted today on the House floor:“As a playwright, Václav Havel revealed the absurdity of communist ideology and discredited the oppressive communist Czechoslovak regime. Following the brutal Soviet suppression of the 1968 Prague Spring, a movement for greater political liberalization, Havel was banned from the theater in an attempt to silence him. “But the communists greatly underestimated his passion for freedom. Instead of succumbing to their intimidation, Václav Havel increased his political activity. Havel played a central role in drafting the now famous Charter 77 Manifesto, and was a founding member of the dissident organization based upon those principles. In 1979, he founded the Committee for the Defense of the Unjustly Persecuted. “These and other opposition efforts earned him multiple stays in prison as a so-called ‘guest’ of the communist authorities. But Havel and the cause of freedom prevailed.”Unsurprisingly, Havel heeded that call to action he made before Congress. As president, he befriended the Dalai Lama, backed Aung San Suu Kyi for the Nobel Peace Prize, welcomed Pope John Paul II, and invited Radio Free Europe to broadcast from Prague, a city where its broadcasts were once banned. The last public statement he made was in support of political prisoners in Belarus. It is fitting, then, that a bust of “freedom’s playwright” will reside in Freedom Foyer alongside Winston Churchill, whose bust was dedicated last fall, and Lajos Kossuth, known as the Father of Hungarian Democracy.
Mgr. Kamila Bendová
___________________________________________________________________________________
středa, 29.1.2014
VÁCLAV HAVEL TO BE HONORED WITH BUST IN
FREEDOM FOYER
The House of Representatives has unanimously voted to honor Václav Havel, the first president of the Czech Republic, with a bust in the U.S. Capitol’s Freedom Foyer. H. Res. 506, a bipartisan resolution authored by Foreign Affairs Committee Chairman Ed Royce (R-CA), authorizes this tribute to the playwright turned freedom fighter who led the Velvet Revolution, which began on November 17, 1989. On that day nearly 25 years ago, a student demonstration in Prague triggered the chain of events that peacefully brought down the communist regime in Czechoslovakia. Only three months later, Havel stood before the United States Congress as the leader of his people. “History is accelerating,” he said. “I believe that once again it will be the human mind that will notice this acceleration, give it a name and transform those words into deeds.” As fast as events were moving, Havel’s path from playwright to political leader was anything but swift – something Chairman Royce noted today on the House floor:“As a playwright, Václav Havel revealed the absurdity of communist ideology and discredited the oppressive communist Czechoslovak regime. Following the brutal Soviet suppression of the 1968 Prague Spring, a movement for greater political liberalization, Havel was banned from the theater in an attempt to silence him. “But the communists greatly underestimated his passion for freedom. Instead of succumbing to their intimidation, Václav Havel increased his political activity. Havel played a central role in drafting the now famous Charter 77 Manifesto, and was a founding member of the dissident organization based upon those principles. In 1979, he founded the Committee for the Defense of the Unjustly Persecuted. “These and other opposition efforts earned him multiple stays in prison as a so-called ‘guest’ of the communist authorities. But Havel and the cause of freedom prevailed.”Unsurprisingly, Havel heeded that call to action he made before Congress. As president, he befriended the Dalai Lama, backed Aung San Suu Kyi for the Nobel Peace Prize, welcomed Pope John Paul II, and invited Radio Free Europe to broadcast from Prague, a city where its broadcasts were once banned. The last public statement he made was in support of political prisoners in Belarus. It is fitting, then, that a bust of “freedom’s playwright” will reside in Freedom Foyer alongside Winston Churchill, whose bust was dedicated last fall, and Lajos Kossuth, known as the Father of Hungarian Democracy.
Mgr. Kamila Bendová
___________________________________________________________________________________
středa, 29.1.2014Jan Palach
Palach’s extreme act of resistance briefly became a focal point for opposition to the Soviet-led occupation of Czechoslovakia and his funeral was attended by tens of thousands of people. One of those who was there was former dissident Jiří Navrátil, who remembers it as a moment of national solidarity during a particularly bleak period in the country’s history:
“It was really a very special event, because only two or three times in my life have I been a member of a society which was of one soul and one mind. It was fantastic and admirable. It was not only unforgettable but impressive, and it still is for me to this day.”
Although Jan Palach is now just a symbol to most Czechs, Jiří Návrátil actually knew him personally. He remembers Palach as an idealistic young man who was an enthusiastic supporter of the Prague Spring and the idea of creating “socialism with a human face”, which the leaders of that era advocated.
The funeral of Palach turned into a major protest against the occupation, and a month later (on 25 February 1969) another student, Jan Zajíc, burned himself to death in the same place, followed in April of the same year by Evžen Plocek in Jihlava.
Mgr. Kamila Bendová
___________________________________________________________________
pátek, 24.10. 2013
Lady Gaga
Lady Gaga came to prominence following the release of her debut studio album The Fame (2008), which included the hits "Just Dance," "Poker Face," "Bad Romance" and sold over 15 million copies worldwide.
The album earned her six Grammy nominations and two wins as well as a slew of other awards recognition, including a record setting thirteen MTV Video Music Award nominations.
Gaga is the first artist in history to claim four #1 hits from a debut album ("Just Dance," "Poker Face," "LoveGame" and "Paparazzi").
Katy Perry
The album earned her six Grammy nominations and two wins as well as a slew of other awards recognition, including a record setting thirteen MTV Video Music Award nominations.
Gaga is the first artist in history to claim four #1 hits from a debut album ("Just Dance," "Poker Face," "LoveGame" and "Paparazzi").
Katy Perry
Katheryn Elizabeth "Katy" Hudson (born October 25, 1984), better known by her stage name Katy Perry, is an American singer, songwriter, businesswoman, philanthropist, and actress.
She was born and raised in Santa Barbara California. Having had very little exposure
to mainstream pop music in her childhood, she pursued a career in gospel music to mainstream pop music in her childhood, she pursued
a career in gospel music as a teen and released her debut studio album, Katy Hudson (2001).
She also recorded a second solo album which never received release.
She was born and raised in Santa Barbara California. Having had very little exposure
a career in gospel music as a teen and released her debut studio album, Katy Hudson (2001).
She also recorded a second solo album which never received release.
Kryštof Sklář, II.A
____________________________________
Pinterest
Kryštof Sklář, II.A
____________________________________
Pinterest
Pinterest is a tool for collecting and organizing things you love. No matter what you’re interested in, there’s a place for it here. Pinterest is a pinboard style and photo sharing website that allows users to create and manage theme-based image collections such as events, interests, and hobbies.
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Mgr. Kamila Bendová
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sobota, 15. června 2013
My internship in hotel Kempinski Marbella – Estepona
Spain.
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| http://www.lhw.com/hotel/Kempinski-Hotel-Bahia-Estepona-Spain |
My way to this hotel started when
I came back to Czech from my second internship in Kempinski hotel Saw Lawrenz
Gozo. I wanted to find some internships myself, so I sent around 20 email to
hotels and restaurants in Europe. After first week I got answer from some of
them, but human resources director Pedro Hidalgo called me from Kempinski hotel
in Spain and asked me If I am able to make a telephone interview with them,
because I look like a suitable candidate to work in their hotel kitchen. I said
yes and they asked me for some questions like a why I want to work in kitchen
or why do you want to work in our hotel …
it took me a 15 minutes … and I answered all of these kind of questions
and he accepted me. I booked a fly ticket to Picasso airport in Malaga and
disappeared to Spain for duration of 3 months. Day after my arrived I got a
uniform and started to work in kitchen. They let me to try and be in all of
position in kitchen. After one month since Monday I got a position in really
beautiful beach restaurant which is called La Cabaňa. I worked in small and
short cold kitchen as a starter’s chef and it means to do a lot of types of
salads, soups and Appetizers. One problem in kitchen was, that no one, except
people from management, did not speak English, so I had to learn Spanish to
answer and to understand. I spend in Spain amazing time and I miss places and
people, who I met there. Manager from human resources gave me an opportunity to
come back and work full time, but I said no, because I got a chance to make my
another practice in hotel Kempinski Des Bains Switzerland with Michelin started
chefs, so this summer I am going there.
Petr Benda, III. A
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sobota, 27. dubna 2013
The way to follow your dream I.
When I was young I always had a dream... How I’ll become cabin crew member ( hostess). How is gonna be to wear perfect made
uniform, which everyone makes look just gorgerous! All those pretty faces full of nice make up, kind behavour and smiling all the time! Don’t you think so too?! What about idea traveling all around the
world, visit all beautiful cities, cultures,
mentality, food and be all the time in the sky??? Well that’s my dream, which after hard work
come true! Let me just show you a bit now.... I started university of aviation &
tourism in Prague,but in meanwhile I saw one not very famous
airline hiring new people, so I tried....
I did send my CV and possitive reply come
back to mesoon after. They invited me for interview in Hilton. When I saw how
many people were there i got so scared.
But this fair helped me to be stronger and
follow my dreams.So what did you learn from first lesson? Your dream it’s make
you purposeful and your fair stronger ;-)
Zuzana Havlová
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sobota, 27. dubna 2013
My practice
I was
three months in a Germany for practice in four stars hotel Am Kurpark. I worked
as waiter in restaurant. When I came there, i didn´t know how to sayword in
german language. After two months I was speaking much better and last month i
spokefluently. I was there with my friend Vláďa, but he worked in the kitchen.
There were a lot of funny people and they were helping us with everything. Work
in this hotel was not so easy. There were a lot of events with many peoples.
Sometimes I worked more than eleven hours, but it was perfect for my experiences.
Our room was built like one big room with bathroom. We were there in a winter. There was very
cold so we spent a lot of time in the hotel. The hotel had four restaurant, one
bar and sixteen conference rooms. The
hotel has five floors. In a ground floor was fitness, bowling and big fridges
with foods and drinks. In a first floor was reception, restaurants, bar and
kitchen. Floors two , three and four was
rooms fora guests. Around the hotel was big spa park and city where the hotel
located was very nice. It was training where I got a lot of experiences. We had
three meals per day. At ten O´clock we had breakfast. At twelve O´clock we had
lunch and at five O´clock in the evening we had dinner, but when we weremore
hungry they gave us something to eat or drink. I learned here how to work in
restaurant,speak with guests, work in the bar and work in the conferences.
I think it was very good first practice
I learned a lot of new things and meet many good people. I hope i will come
back to this hotel next year.
Jan Vybíral (1. B)
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sobota, 30. března 2013
EASTER TRADITIONS IN USA
Festivity knows
no boundaries and this especially stands true in case of Easter. Celebrated all
across the globe with much pomp and vigor, Easter is one time when people bury
their differences and come together in hordes to rejoice this day. Every nation
has its own way of celebrating a particular festivity. Every country has some
unique traditions and customs. For example, it is the tradition of America to
conduct special Easter parades, where men and women flaunt their special
costumes and colorful bonnets. Being a major celebration in the Christian
calendar, Easter is celebrated with much fanfare. The Easter traditions in
America mark the arrival of spring and the period to celebrate the rebirth of
Jesus Christ. During Easter traditions, one gets to witness parades, carnivals,
Easter egg decorations, music and much more. Every year on Shrove Tuesday,
Mardi Gras carnival is hosted in many regions of the USA. New Orleans is a
major venue for the Mardi Gras carnival. Decorated floats are prepared by
different groups of people in the carnival. The Easter bunny forms a major part
of the Easter traditions in America. So, if you happen to be in the USA during
Easter, make yourself a part of the traditions and enjoy the most fun-filled
festival.
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| :-) |
Here are some ideas about Easter customs and traditions in US:
- In the New Orleans, it is
a trend of conducting an annual Easter carnival called 'Mardi Gras', which
features lot of fun activities like parade, jazz music bands and a bumper
party.
- A must play Easter game
for American kids is Easter egg roll.
- A special dish for Easter
springtime in USA is baked ham, potatoes and vegetables. Another most
demanding recipe is hot cross buns.
- It was in the early
1700's, when for the first time, eggs were dyed and the credit for starting
this practice in America can be attributed to Pennsylvania Dutch (German)
settlers.
- As a part of Easter
traditions in the US, sunrise services are held and the prime motive is to
include various Christian religious groups in this event.
- Painting the Easter eggs
and then conducting Easter egg hunt games for the kids is what most
American parents do on the Easter week.
- Like in every other part
of the globe, Easter symbols like bunnies, Easter tree, Easter eggs and
Easter lamb make their presence felt in every corner of the street,
churches, shops and homes.
- The popular Easter
symbols like Easter bunny and egg tree were first brought in by the German
settlers who arrived in the Pennsylvania Dutch country during the 1700s. eventually, American people accepted
these crafts and made these symbols a vital part of their Easter
celebrations.
- The book 'Egg Tree' by
Katherine Milhous was credited with popularizing the custom of egg tree
decoration in USA.
- Like most other
countries, pre-Lent carnivals also form an integral part of Easter
celebration in the USA.
- Easter celebrations
cannot be complete without extensive feasting. During Easter time, people
in US binge on Easter delights like baked ham, potatoes, vegetables and
other homemade delights.
- Easter parties are also a
common sight during this holiday time where people come, feast and make
merry.
- Easter wedding is a
popular trend in USA. People in USA usually like to their tie nuptial knot
on this propitious day.
Mgr. Marianna Mrázová and students
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sobota, 2. března 2013
Okresní kolo olympiády
v anglickém jazyce
Dne 21. 02. 2013 se konalo okresní
kolo olympiády v anglickém jazyce.
Soutěž proběhla ve stejném duchu jako školní kolo, které se na naší
škole koná každý rok. Oficiální zahájení bylo v 8 hodin ráno v Mostě, na bývalé
16. ZŠ.
Celkem se nás účastnilo 15. Začalo
se poslechem – dohromady 3 cvičení. Následně jsme dostali dva A4 testy na
gramatiku.
Po půlhodinové pauze si nás začali
po dvojicích volat do učebny, kde jsme se zkoušejícími museli mluvit na dané
téma a popisovat rozdíl mezi fotkami. Já jsem tam šel s nějakým klukem jménem
Jirka – byl ze zdrávky. Moje téma bylo – Kdybys dostal 5 tisíc, co by si s
nimi udělal? Zvládl jsem mluvit cca 7 minut a poté jsem popisoval
fotografie, na jedné byla pláž, kde lidé krmili racky, a na druhé byly útesy.
Zhruba ve 12 hodin nás všechny
svolali do učebny, aby vyhlásili výsledky. Nejprve vyhlásili první 3 místa. Já
jsem se umístil na osmém místě. Celkově to hodnotím pozitivně. I když jsem
nevyhrál, jsem rád za takovouto zkušenost.
Erik Brechler, III. A
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...
English is fun
How ambitious are you?
Vypracovali: Markéta Vykouková a Dominik Charvát, 2.A
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KAČENKO, PUSU! americký muzikál
V rámci výuky anglického jazyka jsme navštívili
Městské divadlo Most. Na programu byl americký muzikál Kiss me, Kate! Byl to muzikál v pravém slova smyslu, kde se tančí,
zpívá a hraje, patří ke zlatému fondu amerického hudebně dramatického divadla z
jednoho prostého důvodu: všechny jeho složky jsou v mistrovské rovnováze.
Představení bylo
skvělé!
(Zdroj: www.divadlo-most.cz)
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| Z muzikálu Kiss me, Kate! Městského divadla Most |
