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English pages for Kids and Children-2

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English pages for Kids and Children - 2

Discover the magic of the internet at kinodv.ru, a community powered entertainment destination. Lift your spirits with funny jokes, trending memes, entertaining pictures, inspiring stories, viral videos, and so much

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Gather around and listen well, for we have a fabled story to tell. Today is National Tell a Fairy Tale Day and a great opportunity to read to your kids. We are encouraged to explore myths, fantasy and fables, old, new or imagined by you on the spot. A fairy tale is a fictional story that may feature fairies, trolls, giants and talking animals. These stories often include enchantments and far-fetched events.

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Nursery rhymes
For early learning counting fun

http://s3.uploads.ru/t/XPfDo.gif Learn English for free
Nursery rhymes & Education
Children songs

Picture Comprehension




Reading Comprehension for Kids

Reading Comprehension is suitable for Kindergarten students or beginning readers.
This product is helping children to sharpen reading and comprehension.

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Life in London: Fish & Chips

Are you feeling hungry? I think you will be after watching this video! Today we are out and about in the suburbs of London. Come with me and visit a very special Fish and Chip shop called The Vintage Fish. This kind of food is traditional in England. Well be meeting Selim, the owner of the shop, who will tell us all about fish and chips, and will show us how its cooked.

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In this film we learn about British Life and Culture.
We study London's Traffic and Public Transport and then take a look at Multicultural Britain and it's history. We review its Political System and learn how to play cricket during Leisure Time.

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British Cultural & Social Etiquette

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How tall are you? What's your height?

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How tall is the Eiffel Tower?

The magnificent Eiffel Tower, also known as the 'Iron Lady' of France, is one of the seven wonders of the world. It is the tallest man-made marvel in France. This massive latticework structure is owned by the city of Paris and is a landmark destination for tourists.

Gustave Eiffel once said that, I ought to be jealous of the tower. She is more famous than I am. Millions of tourist throng to visit Paris city and spend some memorable moments gazing at this man-made beauty.

This tallest structure in France is located not far from the Seine river and stands across the river from Trocadero. The precise location of the tower is latitude 48 degrees, 51 minutes, 32 seconds North, longitude 002 degrees, 17 minutes, 45 seconds East.

Height of the Eiffel Tower

The Eiffel Tower can be seen from any tall building present in Paris. That is just one of the many beauties of this tower. One cannot afford to miss seeing the Eiffel Tower, when visiting this beautiful city. It stands at a height of 300 meters, that is, 984 feet tall. It is about 81 stories high. There were about 1710 steps in the Eiffel Tower during 1889, after it was constructed. Today, there are about 1665 steps in the monument. This means that it is twice as high as the Washington Monument.

It is also twice the height of the dome of St. Peters church in Rome and the Pyramid of Giza in Egypt. If you calculate the height including the television antenna at the top, the height of the Eiffel Tower is about 1,063 feet. Let me give you a brief background about the history of the Eiffel Tower.

Why Was The Eiffel Tower Built?

If you are having questions regarding the construction of Eiffel Tower, this will solve your query. The massive tower was built to commemorate the French revolution. It was built by a French structural engineer, Alexandre Gustave Eiffel. He started building the monumental tower on 26 January, 1897. It took 2 years, 2 months and 5 days to complete the tower and it was inaugurated on 31 March, 1889 and was open to public from the 6th of May.

Gustave designed a 984 foot open lattice, wrought iron tower, that mesmerized people around the world for its aesthetic looks. The base of the tower is formed by four semi-circular arcs. These arcs were built due to his artistic sense and by his engineering thoughtfulness. Eiffel Tower is made from pure iron, although it is a common notion that it is built of steel.

Gustave used puddled iron, that is, a type of traditional wrought iron, to build a very strong tower. Gustave has designed the tower in such a way, that every worn out individual part, can be replaced easily. It is interesting to know, that the massive windstorm in 1999 damaged many Paris monuments, but no harm came to this wonder tower.

The tower has 4 base legs which are placed 80 meters apart from each other and 50 meters above the ground. This engineering marvel required 50 engineers, 5300 blueprints and 121 construction workers to build it. Eiffel Tower has been painted over 6 times in different colors, till date. The Eiffel Tower needs 50 tons of paint and has always been painted in shades of brown.

The French government partially funded the building of Eiffel Tower and the rest of the cost was covered by Gustave Eiffels structural engineering and construction proceeds from admissions to the company, over a period of years. The French government used it as the key attraction for the International Exposition of 1889.

The Eiffel Tower was supposed to be a temporary structure and was to be dismantled in 20 years from the date it was built. But it was saved from being demolished, as it became an important source of communication to the radio and television stations, that used it to broadcast their programs.

The Eiffel Tower was used by the military for dispatching troops in The First Battle of Marne, during the First World War. The original idea was to build it in Spain for the Universal Exposition of 1889. But the City of Spain thought it did not fit in with the citys infrastructure and was very expensive for their pockets. A list of all 72 scientists who contributed to building this beautifully engineered marvel, is engraved on all four sides of the Eiffel Tower.

You can see as far as 59 kilometers (37 miles) from the top of the Eiffel Tower. The Paris tourism has recorded 6.8 million tourists visiting the 108 storied Eiffel Tower. There are two restaurants on the Eiffel Tower, the highly expensive Jules Verne and an ordinary yet great restaurant Altitude 95. There is also a small post office in the tower. la Tour Eiffel is one of the most romantic places in the world. It is the dream of many lovers to spend one romantic evening under the Eiffel Tower, giving French kisses to their loved one.

Just as one cannot imagine living without oxygen, one cannot even think of the City of Light without the Eiffel Tower. The Eiffel Tower in Paris has become a symbol of freedom for the French people. It has proved to be the major crowd-puller for France tourism. If you ever go on a world tour, make sure you do not miss spending a romantic evening at the Eiffel Tower. Ne visitez Paris et obtenir fasciné par la beauté de la Tour Eiffel.

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AUTUMN APPLE HARVEST ON THE FARM - What should we do!?

AUTUMN IS MY FAVOURITE TIME!!! Who else thinks I'm a little overdressed for apple picking?  I was filming English videos in the morning! Perhaps you'll see this outfit and hairstyle on the English with Lucy channel in the near future! -

Lucy Bella

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http://www.ediplomat.com/images/flags_small/in.gif  India
12 Indian Etiquette Don'ts

Sharell Cook profile picture.

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Fortunately, Indians are very forgiving toward foreigners who aren't always aware of the etiquette of Indian culture. However, to help you avoid embarrassing mistakes, here are some things not to do in India.

1. Don't Wear Tight or Revealing Clothing

Indians adopt a very conservative standard of dress, particularly in rural areas. Western dress standards, including jeans on women, are now prevalent in major cities. However, to be decent, you should keep your legs covered. You'll rarely see a well-dressed Indian man wearing shorts, or an Indian woman wearing a skirt above the ankles (although the beaches of Goa and college students are common exceptions!). Sure, you can do it, and most likely no one will say anything. But first impressions count!
There's a common perception in India that foreign women are promiscuous, and wearing inappropriate clothing perpetuates this. You will get more respect by dressing conservatively. Covering your legs and shoulders (and even your head) is especially important when visiting temples in India. Also, avoid wearing strapless tops anywhere. If you do wear a spaghetti strap top, wear a shawl or scarf over it to be modest.

2. Don't Wear Your Shoes Inside

It's good manners to take your shoes off before entering someone's home, and it's a prerequisite before entering a temple or mosque. Indians will often wear shoes inside their homes, such as when going to the bathroom. However, these shoes are kept for domestic use and never worn outdoors. Shoes are sometimes also removed before entering a shop. If you see shoes at an entrance, it's a good idea to take yours off as well.

3. Don't Point Your Feet or Finger at People

Feet are considered to be unclean and therefore it's important to avoid pointing your feet at people or touching people or objects (particularly books) with your feet or shoes. If you accidentally do so, you should apologize straight away. Also, note that Indians will often touch their head or eyes as a show of apology. On the other hand, it's a sign of respect to bend down and touch an elder person's feet in India.

Pointing with your finger is also rude in India. If you need to point at something or someone, it's better to do so with your whole hand or thumb.

4. Don't Eat Food or Pass Objects With Your Left Hand

The left hand is considered to be unclean in India, as it's used to perform matters associated with going to the bathroom. Therefore, you should avoid your left hand coming into contact with food or any objects that you pass to people.

5. Don't Be Offended by Intrusive Questions

Indians are really inquisitive people and their culture is one where people do anything but mind their own business, often due to a lack of privacy in India and the habit of placing people in the social hierarchy. As a result, don't be surprised or offended if someone asks you how much you earn for a living and a host of other intimate questions, all upon first meeting. What's more, you should feel free to ask these type of questions in return. Rather than causing offense, the people you are conversing with will be pleased that you've taken such an interest in them!
Who knows what fascinating information you'll learn as well. (If you don't feel like telling the truth to questions, it's perfectly acceptable to give a vague answer or even lie).

6. Don't Always Be Polite

The use of "please" and "thank you" are essential for good manners in western culture. However, in India, they can create unnecessary formality and, surprisingly, can even be insulting! While it's fine to thank someone who has provided a service to you, such as a shop assistant or waiter, lavishing thanks on friends or family should be avoided. In India, people view doing things for those whom they are close to as implicit in the relationship. If you thank them, they may see it as a violation of intimacy and the creation of distance that shouldn't exist.

Rather than saying thanks, it's best to show your appreciation in other ways. For example, if you're invited to someone's house for dinner, don't say, "Thank you so much for having me over and cooking for me". Instead, say, "I really enjoyed the food and spending time with you." You will also notice that "please" is used infrequently in India, especially between friends and family. In Hindi, there are three levels of formality -- intimate, familiar and polite -- depending on the form that the verb takes. There is a word for "please" in Hindi (kripya) but it's rarely used and implies doing a favor, again creating an excessive level of formality.

Another thing to keep in mind is that being polite can be viewed as a sign of weakness in India, especially if someone is trying to scam or exploit you. A meek, "No, thank you", is rarely enough to deter touts and street vendors. Instead, it's necessary to be more stern and forceful.

7. Don't Outright Decline an Invitation or Request

While it's necessary to be assertive and say "no" in some situations in India, doing so to decline an invitation or request can be considered disrespectful. This is because it's important to avoid making a person look or feel bad. This differs from the western view, where saying no is simply being upfront and not giving a false expectation of commitment. Instead of saying "no" or "I can't" directly, adopt the Indian way of replying by giving evasive answers such as "I'll try", or "maybe", or "it might be possible", or "I'll see what I can do".

8. Don't Expect People to Be Punctual

There is time, and there is "Indian Standard Time" or "Indian Stretchable Time". In the west, it's considered rude to be late, and anything more than 10 minutes requires a phone call. In India, the concept of time is flexible. People are unlikely to turn up when they say they will. 10 minutes can mean half an hour, half an hour can mean an hour, and an hour can mean indefinitely!

9. Don't Expect People to Respect Your Personal Space

Overcrowding and scarcity of resources lead to a lot of pushing and shoving in India! If there is a line, people will certainly try and jump it. To prevent this from happening, those who are in the line will commonly stand so close to each other that they're touching. It can feel unnerving at first, but it's necessary to prevent people from cutting in.

10. Don't Show Affection in Public

There's a joke that it's okay to "piss in public but not kiss in public" in India. Unfortunately, there is truth to it! While you may think nothing of holding your partner's hand in public, or even hugging or kissing them, it's not appropriate in India. Indian society is conservative, particularly the older generation. Such personal acts are associated with sex and can be considered obscene in public. "Moral policing" does occur. While it's unlikely that, as a foreigner, you'll be arrested it's best to keep affectionate gestures private.

11. Don't Overlook Your Body Language

Traditionally, women don't touch men in India when meeting and greeting them. A handshake, which is a standard western gesture, can be misinterpreted as something more intimate in India if coming from a woman. The same goes for touching a man, even just briefly on the arm, while speaking to him. While many Indian businessmen are used to shaking hands with women these days, giving a "Namaste" with both palms together is often a better alternative.

12. Don't Judge the Whole Country

Lastly, it's important to keep in mind that India is a very diverse country and a land of extreme contrasts. Each state is unique and has its own culture, and cultural norms. What may be true somewhere in India, may not be the case elsewhere. There are all kinds of different people and ways of behaving in India. Hence, you should be careful not to draw blanket conclusions about the whole country based on limited experience.

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Joe goes fishing - the Storytellers

It's Joe's special day and he decides to go fishing. What could possibly go wrong and how can a beautiful white swan help him?

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Ray Bradbury

The April Witch

Into the air, over the valleys, under the stars, above a river, a pond, a road, flew Cecy. Invisible as new spring winds, fresh as the breath of clover rising from twilight fields, she flew. She soared in doves as soft as white ermine, stopped in trees and lived in blossoms, showering away in petals when the breeze blew. She perched in a limegreen frog, cool as mint by a shining pool. She trotted in a brambly dog and barked to hear echoes from the sides of distant barns. She lived in new April grasses, in sweet clear liquids rising from the musky earth.

It's spring, thought Cecy. I'll be in every living thing in the world tonight.

Now she inhabited neat crickets on the tar-pool roads, now prickled in dew on an iron gate. Hers was an adapt-ably quick mind flowing unseen upon Illinois winds on this one evening of her life when she was just seventeen.

I want to be in love, she said.

She had said it at supper. And her parents had widened their eyes and stiffened back in their chairs. Patience, had been their advice. Remember, you're remarkable. Our whole family is odd and remarkable. We can't mix or marry with ordinary folk. We'd lose our magical powers if we did. You wouldn't want to lose your ability to 'travel' by magic, would you? Then be careful. Be careful!

But in her high bedroom, Cecy had touched perfume to her throat and stretched out, trembling and apprehensive, on her four-poster, as a moon the colour of milk rose over Illinois country, turning rivers to cream and roads to platinum.

Yes, she sighed. I'm one of an odd family. We sleep days and fly nights like black kites on the wind. If we want, we can sleep in moles through the winter, in the warm earth. I can live in anything at all a pebble, a crocus, or a praying mantis. I can leave my plain, bony body behind and send my mind far out for adventure. Now!

The wind whipped her away over fields and meadows.

She saw the warm spring lights of cottages and farms glowing with twilight colours.

If I can't be in love, myself, because I'm plain and odd, then I'll be in love through someone else, she thought.

Outside a farmhouse in the spring night a dark-haired girl, no more than nineteen, drew up water from a deep stone well. She was singing.

Cecy fell a green leaf- into the well. She lay in the tender moss of the well, gazing up through dark coolness. Now she quickened in a fluttering, invisible amoeba. Now in a water droplet! At last, within a cold cup, she felt herself lifted to the girl's warm lips. There was a soft night sound of drinking.

Cey looked out from the girl's eyes.

She entered into the dark head and gazed from the shining eyes at the hands pulling the rough rope. She listened through the shell ears to this girl's world. She smelled a particular universe through these delicate nostrils, felt this special heart beating, beating. Felt this strange tongue move with singing.

Does she know I'm here? thought Cecy.

The girl gasped. She stared into the night meadows.

Who's there?

No answer.

Only the wind, whispered Cecy.

Only the wind. The girl laughed at herself, but shivered.

It was a good body, this girl's body. It held bones of finest slender ivory hidden and roundly fleshed. This brain was like a pink tea rose, hung in darkness, and there was cider-wine in this mouth. The lips lay firm on the white, white teeth and the brows arched neatly at the world, and the hair blew soft and fine on her milky neck. The pores knit small and close. The nose tilted at the moon and the cheeks glowed like small fires. The body drifted with feather-balances from one motion to another and seemed always singing to itself. Being in this body, this head, was like basking in a hearth fire, living in the purr of a sleeping cat, stirring in warm creek waters that flowed by night to the sea.

I'll like it here, thought Cecy.

What? asked the girl, as if she'd heard a voice.

What's your name? asked Cecy carefully.

Ann Leary. The girl twitched. Now why should I say that out loud?

Ann, Ann, whispered Cecy. Ann, you're going to be in love.

As if to answer this, a great roar sprang from the road, a clatter and a ring of wheels on gravel. A tall man drove up in a rig, holding the reins high with his monstrous arms, his smile glowing across the yard.

Is that you, Tom?

Who else? Leaping from the rig, he tied the reins to the fence.

I'm not speaking to you! Ann whirled, the bucket in her hands slopping.

No! cried Cecy.

Ann froze. She looked at the hills and the first spring stars. She stared at the man named Tom. Cecy made her drop the bucket.

Look what you've done!

Tom ran up.

Look what you made me do!

He wiped her shoes with a kerchief, laughing.

Get away! She kicked at his hands, but he laughed again, and gazing down on him from miles away, Cecy saw the turn of his head, the size of his skull, the flare of his nose, the shine of his eye, the girth of his shoulder, and the hard strength of his hands doing this delicate thing with the handkerchief. Peering down from the secret attic of this lovely head, Cecy yanked a hidden copper ventriloquist's wire and the pretty mouth popped wide: Thank you!

Oh, so you have manners? The smell of leather on his hands, the smell of the horse rose from his clothes into the tender nostrils, and Cecy, far, far away over night meadows and flowered fields, stirred as with some dream in her bed.

Not for you, no! said Ann.

Hush, speak gently, said Cecy. She moved Ann's fingers out toward Tom's head. Ann snatched them back.

I've gone mad!

You have. He nodded, smiling but bewildered. Were you going to touch me then?

I don't know. Oh, go away! Her cheeks glowed with pink charcoals.

Why don't you run? I'm not stopping you. Tom got up. Have you changed your mind? Will you go to the dance with me tonight? It's special. Tell you why later.

No, said Ann.

Yes! cried Cecy. I've never danced. I want to dance. I've never worn a long gown, all rustly. I want that. I want to dance all night. I've never known what it's like to be in a woman, dancing; Father and Mother would never permit it. Dogs, cats, locusts, leaves, everything else in the world at one time or another I've known, but never a woman in the spring, never on a night like this. Oh, please we must go to that dance!

She spread her thought like the fingers of a hand within a new glove.

Yes, said Ann Leary, I'll go. I don't know why, but I'll go to the dance with you tonight, Tom.

Now inside, quick! cried Cecy. You must wash, tell your folks, get your gown ready, out with the iron, into your room!

Mother, said Ann, I've changed my mind!

The rig was galloping off down the pike, the rooms of the farmhouse jumped to life, water was boiling for a bath, the coal stove was heating an iron to press the gown, the mother was rushing about with a fringe of hairpins in her mouth. What's come over you, Ann? You don't like Tom!

That's true. Ann stopped amidst the great fever.

But it's spring! thought Cecy.

It's spring, said Ann.

And it's a fine night for dancing, thought Cecy.

for dancing, murmured Ann, Leary.

Then she was in the tub and the soap creaming on her white seal shoulders, small nests of soap beneath her arms, and the flesh of her warm breasts moving in her hands and Cecy moving the mouth, making the smile, keeping the actions going. There must be no pause, no hesitation, or the entire pantomime might fall in ruins! Ann Leary must be kept moving, doing, acting, wash here, soap there, now out! Rub with a towel! Now perfume and powder!

to be continued...

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Ray Bradbury

The April Witch

You! Ann caught herself in the mirror, all whiteness and pinkness like lilies and carnations. Who are you tonight?

I'm a girl seventeen. Cecy gazed from her violet eyes. You can't see me. Do you know I'm here?

Ann Leary shook her head. I've rented my body to an April witch, for sure.

Close, very close! laughed Cecy. Now, on with your dressing.

The luxury of feeling good clothes move over an ample body! And then the halloo outside.

Ann, Tom's back!

Tell him to wait. Ann sat down suddenly. Tell him I'm not going to that dance.

What? said her mother, in the door.

Cecy snapped back into attention. It had been a fatal relaxing, a fatal moment of leaving Ann's body for only an instant. She had heard the distant sound of horses' hoofs and the rig rambling through moonlit spring country. For a second she thought, I'll go find Tom and sit in his head and see what it's like to be in a man of twenty-two on a night like this. And so she had started quickly across a heather field, but now, like a bird to a cage, flew back and rustled and beat about in Ann Leary's head.

Tell him to go away!

Ann! Cecy settled down and spread her thoughts.

But Ann had the bit in her mouth now. No, no, I hate him!

I shouldn't have left even for a moment. Cecy poured her mind into the hands of the young girl, into the heart, into the head, softly, softly. Stand up, she thought.

Ann stood.

Put on your coat!

Ann put on her coat.

Now, march!

No! thought Ann Leary.

March!

Ann, said her mother, don't keep Tom waiting another minute. You get on out there now and no nonsense. What's come over you?

Nothing, Mother. Good night. We'll be home late.

Ann and Cecy ran together into the spring evening.

A room full of softly dancing pigeons ruffling their quiet, trailing feathers, a room full of peacocks, a room full of rainbow eyes and lights. And in the center of it, around, around, around, danced Ann Leary.

Oh, it is a fine evening, said Cecy.

Oh, it's a fine evening, said Ann.

You're odd, said Tom.

The music whirled them in dimness, in rivers of song, they floated, they bobbed, they sank down, they arose for air, they gasped, they clutched each other like drowning people and whirled on again, in fan motions, in whispers and sighs, to Beautiful Ohio.

Cecy hummed. Ann's lips parted and the music came out.

Yes, I'm odd, said Cecy.

You're not the same, said Tom.

No, not tonight.

You're not the Ann Leary I knew.

No, not at all, at all, whispered Cecy, miles and miles away. No, not at all, said the moved lips.

I've the funniest feeling, said Tom.

About what?

About you. He held her back and danced her and looked into her glowing face, watching for something. Your eyes, he said, I can't figure it.

Do you see me? asked Cecy.

Part of you's here, Ann, and part of you's not. Tom turned her carefully, his face uneasy.

Yes.

Why did you come with me?

I didn't want to come, said Ann.

Why, then?

Something made me.

What?

I don't know. Ann's voice was faintly hysterical.

Now, now, hush, hush, whispered Cecy. Hush, that's it. Around, around.

They whispered and rustled and rose and fell away in the dark room, with the music moving and turning them.

But you did come to the dance, said Tom.

I did, said Cecy.

Here. And he danced her lightly out an open door and walked her quietly away from the hall and the music and the people.

They climbed up and sat together in the rig.

Ann, he said, taking her hands, trembling. Ann. But the way he said the name it was as if it wasn't her name. He kept glancing into her pale face, and now her eyes were open again. I used to love you, you know that, he said.

I know.

But you've always been fickle and I didn't want to be hurt.

It's just as well, we're very young, said Ann.

No, I mean to say, I'm sorry, said Cecy.

What do you mean? Tom dropped her hands and stiffened.

The night was warm and the smell of the earth shimmered up all about them where they sat, and the fresh trees breathed one leaf against another in a shaking and rustling.

I don't know, said Ann.

Oh, but I know, said Cecy. You're tall and you're the finest-looking man in all the world. This is a good evening; this is an evening I'll always remember, being with you. She put out the alien cold hand to find his reluctant hand again and bring it back, and warm it and hold it very tight.

But, said Tom, blinking, tonight you're here, you're there. One minute one way, the next minute another. I wanted to take you to the dance tonight for old times' sake. I meant nothing by it when I first asked you. And then, when we were standing at the well, I knew something had changed, really changed, about you. You were different. There was something new and soft, something He groped for a word. I don't know, I can't say. The way you looked. Something about your voice. And I know I'm in love with you again.

No, said Cecy. With me, with we.

And I'm afraid of being in love with you, he said. You'll hurt me again.

I might, said Ann.

No, no, I'd love you with all my heart! thought Cecy. Ann, say it to him, say it for me. Say you'd love him with all your heart.

Ann said nothing.

Tom moved quietly closer and put his hand up to hold her chin. I'm going away. I've got a job a hundred miles from here. Will you miss me?

Yes, said Ann and Cecy.

May I kiss you good-bye, then?

Yes, said Cecy before anyone else could speak.

He placed his lips to the strange mouth. He kissed the strange mouth and he was trembling.

Ann sat like a white statue.

Ann! said Cecy. Move your arms, hold him!

She sat like a carved wooden doll in the moonlight.

Again he kissed her lips.

I do love you, whispered Cecy. I'm here, it's me you saw in her eyes it's me, and I love you if she never will.

He moved away and seemed like a man who had run a long distance. He sat beside her. I don't know what's happening. For a moment there

Yes? asked Cecy.

For a moment I thought― He put his hands to his eyes. Never mind. Shall I take you home now?

Please, said Ann Leary.

He clucked to the horse, snapped the reins tiredly, and drove the rig away. They rode in the rustle and slap and motion of the moonlit rig in the still early, only eleven o'clock spring night, with the shining meadows and sweet fields of clover gliding by.

And Cecy, looking at the fields and meadows, thought, 'It would be worth it, it would be worth everything to be with him from this night on.' And she heard her parents' voices again, faintly, Be careful. You wouldn't want to lose your magical powers, would you married to a mere mortal? Be careful. You wouldn't want that.

Yes, yes, thought Cecy, even that I'd give up, here and now, if he would have me. I wouldn't need to roam the spring nights then, I wouldn't need to live in birds and dogs and cats and foxes, I'd need only to be with him. Only him. Only him.

to be continued...

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Ray Bradbury

The April Witch

Yes, yes, thought Cecy, even that I'd give up, here and now, if he would have me. I wouldn't need to roam the spring nights then, I wouldn't need to live in birds and dogs and cats and foxes, I'd need only to be with him. Only him. Only him.

The road passed under, whispering.

Tom, said Ann at last.

What? He stared coldly at the road, the horse, the trees, the sky, the stars.

If you're ever, in years to come, at any time, in Green Town, Illinois, a few miles from here, will you do me a favour?

Perhaps.

Will you do me the favour of stopping and seeing a friend of mine? Ann Leary said this haltingly, awkwardly.

Why?

She's a good friend. I've told her of you. I'll give you her address. Just a moment. When the rig stopped at her farm she drew forth a pencil and paper from her small purse and wrote in the moonlight, pressing the paper to her knee. There it is. Can you read it?

He glanced at the paper and nodded bewilderedly.

Cecy Elliott, 12 Willow Street, Green Town, Illinois, he said.

Will you visit her someday? asked Ann.

Someday, he said.

Promise?

What has this to do with us? he cried savagely. What do I want with names and papers? He crumpled the paper into a tight ball and shoved it in his coat.

Oh, please promise! begged Cecy.

promise said Ann.

All right, all right, now let me be! he shouted.

I'm tired, thought Cecy. I can't stay I have to go home. I'm weakening. I've only the power to stay a few hours out like this in the night, travelling, travelling. But before I go

before I go, said Ann.

She kissed Tom on the lips.

This is me kissing you, said Cecy.

Tom held her off and looked at Ann Leary and looked deep, deep inside. He said nothing, but his face began to relax slowly, very slowly, and the lines vanished away, and his mouth softened from its hardness, and he looked deep again into the moonlit face held here before him.

Then he put her off the rig and without so much as a good night was driving swiftly down the road.

Cecy let go.

Ann Leary, crying out, released from prison, it seemed, raced up the moonlit path to her house and slammed the door.

Cecy lingered for only a little while. In the eyes of a cricket she saw the spring night world. In the eyes of a frog she sat for a lonely moment by a pool. In the eyes of a night bird she looked down from a tall, moon-haunted elm and saw the light go out in two farmhouses, one here, one a mile away. She thought of herself and her family, and her strange power, and the fact that no one in the family could ever marry any one of the people in this vast world out here beyond the hills.

Tom? Her weakening mind flew in a night bird under the trees and over deep fields of wild mustard. Have you still got the paper, Tom? Will you come by someday, some year, sometime, to see me? Will you know me then? Will you look in my face and remember then where it was you saw me last and know that you love me as I love you, with all my heart for all time?

She paused in the cool night air, a million miles from towns and people, above farms and continents and rivers and hills. Tom? Softly.

Tom was asleep. It was deep night; his clothes were hung on chairs or folded neatly over the end of the bed. And in one silent, carefully upflung hand upon the white pillow, by his head, was a small piece of paper with writing on it. Slowly, slowly, a fraction of an inch at a time, his fingers closed down upon and held it tightly. And he did not even stir or notice when a blackbird, faintly, wondrously, beat softly for a moment against the clear moon crystals of the windowpane, then, fluttering quietly, stopped and flew away toward the east, over the sleeping earth.

The end

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Ray Bradbury

All Summer in a Day.

1954

"Ready ?"

"Ready."

"Now ?"

"Soon."

"Do the scientists really know? Will it happen today, will it ?"

"Look, look; see for yourself !"

The children pressed to each other like so many roses, so many weeds, intermixed, peering out for a look at the hidden sun.

It rained.

It had been raining for seven years; thousands upon thousands of days compounded and filled from one end to the other with rain, with the drum and gush of water, with the sweet crystal fall of showers and the concussion of storms so heavy they were tidal waves come over the islands. A thousand forests had been crushed under the rain and grown up a thousand times to be crushed again. And this was the way life was forever on the planet Venus, and this was the school room of the children of the rocket men and women who had come to a raining world to set up civilization and live out their lives.

"Its stopping, its stopping !"

"Yes, yes !"

Margot stood apart from them, from these children who could ever remember a time when there wasnt rain and rain and rain. They were all nine years old, and if there had been a day, seven years ago, when the sun came out for an hour and showed its face to the stunned world, they could not recall. Sometimes, at night, she heard them stir, in remembrance, and she knew they were dreaming and remembering gold or a yellow crayon or a coin large enough to buy the world with. She knew they thought they remembered a warmness, like a blushing in the face, in the body, in the arms and legs and trembling hands. But then they always awoke to the tatting drum, the endless shaking down of clear bead necklaces upon the roof, the walk, the gardens, the forests, and their dreams were gone.

All day yesterday they had read in class about the sun. About how like a lemon it was, and how hot. And they had written small stories or essays or poems about it:

I think the sun is a flower,
That blooms for just one hour.

That was Margots poem, read in a quiet voice in the still classroom while the rain was falling outside.

"Aw, you didnt write that!" protested one of the boys.

"I did," said Margot. "I did."

"William!" said the teacher.

But that was yesterday. Now the rain was slackening, and the children were crushed in the great thick windows.

Wheres teacher ?"

"Shell be back."

"Shed better hurry, well miss it !"

They turned on themselves, like a feverish wheel, all tumbling spokes. Margot stood alone. She was a very frail girl who looked as if she had been lost in the rain for years and the rain had washed out the blue from her eyes and the red from her mouth and the yellow from her hair. She was an old photograph dusted from an album, whitened away, and if she spoke at all her voice would be a ghost. Now she stood, separate, staring at the rain and the loud wet world beyond the huge glass.

"Whatre you looking at ?" said William.

Margot said nothing.

"Speak when youre spoken to."

He gave her a shove. But she did not move; rather she let herself be moved only by him and nothing else. They edged away from her, they would not look at her. She felt them go away. And this was because she would play no games with them in the echoing tunnels of the underground city. If they tagged her and ran, she stood blinking after them and did not follow. When the class sang songs about happiness and life and games her lips barely moved. Only when they sang about the sun and the summer did her lips move as she watched the drenched windows. And then, of course, the biggest crime of all was that she had come here only five years ago from Earth, and she remembered the sun and the way the sun was and the sky was when she was four in Ohio. And they, they had been on Venus all their lives, and they had been only two years old when last the sun came out and had long since forgotten the color and heat of it and the way it really was.

But Margot remembered.

"Its like a penny," she said once, eyes closed.

"No its not!" the children cried.

"Its like a fire," she said, "in the stove."

"Youre lying, you dont remember !" cried the children.

But she remembered and stood quietly apart from all of them and watched the patterning windows. And once, a month ago, she had refused to shower in the school shower rooms, had clutched her hands to her ears and over her head, screaming the water mustnt touch her head. So after that, dimly, dimly, she sensed it, she was different and they knew her difference and kept away. There was talk that her father and mother were taking her back to Earth next year; it seemed vital to her that they do so, though it would mean the loss of thousands of dollars to her family. And so, the children hated her for all these reasons of big and little consequence. They hated her pale snow face, her waiting silence, her thinness, and her possible future.

"Get away !" The boy gave her another push. "Whatre you waiting for?"

Then, for the first time, she turned and looked at him. And what she was waiting for was in her eyes.

"Well, dont wait around here !" cried the boy savagely. "You wont see nothing!"

Her lips moved.

"Nothing !" he cried. "It was all a joke, wasnt it?" He turned to the other children. "Nothings happening today. Is it ?"

They all blinked at him and then, understanding, laughed and shook their heads.

"Nothing, nothing !"

"Oh, but," Margot whispered, her eyes helpless. "But this is the day, the scientists predict, they say, they know, the sun"

"All a joke !" said the boy, and seized her roughly. "Hey, everyone, lets put her in a closet before the teacher comes !"

"No," said Margot, falling back.

They surged about her, caught her up and bore her, protesting, and then pleading, and then crying, back into a tunnel, a room, a closet, where they slammed and locked the door. They stood looking at the door and saw it tremble from her beating and throwing herself against it. They heard her muffled cries. Then, smiling, the turned and went out and back down the tunnel, just as the teacher arrived.

"Ready, children ?" She glanced at her watch.

"Yes !" said everyone.

"Are we all here ?"

"Yes !"

The rain slacked still more.

They crowded to the huge door.

The rain stopped.

It was as if, in the midst of a film concerning an avalanche, a tornado, a hurricane, a volcanic eruption, something had, first, gone wrong with the sound apparatus, thus muffling and finally cutting off all noise, all of the blasts and repercussions and thunders, and then, second, ripped the film from the projector and inserted in its place a beautiful tropical slide which did not move or tremor. The world ground to a standstill. The silence was so immense and unbelievable that you felt your ears had been stuffed or you had lost your hearing altogether. The children put their hands to their ears. They stood apart. The door slid back and the smell of the silent, waiting world came in to them.

The sun came out.

It was the color of flaming bronze and it was very large. And the sky around it was a blazing blue tile color. And the jungle burned with sunlight as the children, released from their spell, rushed out, yelling into the springtime.

"Now, dont go too far," called the teacher after them. "Youve only two hours, you know. You wouldnt want to get caught out !"

But they were running and turning their faces up to the sky and feeling the sun on their cheeks like a warm iron; they were taking off their jackets and letting the sun burn their arms.

"Oh, its better than the sun lamps, isnt it ?"

"Much, much better !"

They stopped running and stood in the great jungle that covered Venus, that grew and never stopped growing, tumultuously, even as you watched it. It was a nest of octopi, clustering up great arms of fleshlike weed, wavering, flowering in this brief spring. It was the color of rubber and ash, this jungle, from the many years without sun. It was the color of stones and white cheeses and ink, and it was the color of the moon.

The children lay out, laughing, on the jungle mattress, and heard it sigh and squeak under them resilient and alive. They ran among the trees, they slipped and fell, they pushed each other, they played hide-and-seek and tag, but most of all they squinted at the sun until the tears ran down their faces; they put their hands up to that yellowness and that amazing blueness and they breathed of the fresh, fresh air and listened and listened to the silence which suspended them in a blessed sea of no sound and no motion. They looked at everything and savored everything. Then, wildly, like animals escaped from their caves, they ran and ran in shouting circles. They ran for an hour and did not stop running.

And then -

In the midst of their running one of the girls wailed.

Everyone stopped.

The girl, standing in the open, held out her hand.

"Oh, look, look," she said, trembling.

They came slowly to look at her opened palm.

In the center of it, cupped and huge, was a single raindrop. She began to cry, looking at it. They glanced quietly at the sun.

"Oh. Oh."

A few cold drops fell on their noses and their cheeks and their mouths. The sun faded behind a stir of mist. A wind blew cold around them. They turned and started to walk back toward the underground house, their hands at their sides, their smiles vanishing away.

A boom of thunder startled them and like leaves before a new hurricane, they tumbled upon each other and ran. Lightning struck ten miles away, five miles away, a mile, a half mile. The sky darkened into midnight in a flash.

They stood in the doorway of the underground for a moment until it was raining hard. Then they closed the door and heard the gigantic sound of the rain falling in tons and avalanches, everywhere and forever.

"Will it be seven more years ?"

"Yes. Seven."

Then one of them gave a little cry.

"Margot !"

"What ?"

"Shes still in the closet where we locked her."

"Margot."

They stood as if someone had driven them, like so many stakes, into the floor. They looked at each other and then looked away. They glanced out at the world that was raining now and raining and raining steadily. They could not meet each others glances. Their faces were solemn and pale. They looked at their hands and feet, their faces down.

"Margot."

One of the girls said, "Well ?"

No one moved.

"Go on," whispered the girl.

They walked slowly down the hall in the sound of cold rain. They turned through the doorway to the room in the sound of the storm and thunder, lightning on their faces, blue and terrible. They walked over to the closet door slowly and stood by it.

Behind the closet door was only silence.

They unlocked the door, even more slowly, and let Margot out.

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Inauguration
An inauguration is the process of swearing a person into office and thus making that person the incumbent. Such an inauguration commonly occurs through a formal ceremony or special event. The word inauguration stems from the Latin augur, which refers to the rituals of ancient Roman priests seeking to interpret if it was the will of the gods for a public official to be deemed worthy to assume office.

inauguration [ɪˏnɔːgjʊ`reɪʃ(ə)n]
,
, ;

10 Interesting Things You Should Know About Inauguration Day

By Jennifer Rosenberg
Updated January 08, 2020

Here are ten facts about the history and tradition of Inauguration Day that you might not be familiar with:

https://www.thoughtco.com/things-you-sh … ay-4018901

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https://i.pinimg.com/474x/cd/8a/96/cd8a96fe4c77136245b2f895f17d92f0.jpg

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