|المواد الادبية و اللغات كل ما يخص المواد الأدبية و اللغات : اللغة العربية - التربية الإسلامية - التاريخ و الجغرافيا -الفلسفة - اللغة الأمازيغية - اللغة الفرنسية - اللغة الأنجليزية - اللغة الاسبانية - اللغة الألمانية|
في حال وجود أي مواضيع أو ردود مُخالفة من قبل الأعضاء، يُرجى الإبلاغ عنها فورًا باستخدام أيقونة ( تقرير عن مشاركة سيئة )، و الموجودة أسفل كل مشاركة .
||أدوات الموضوع||انواع عرض الموضوع|
|2009-04-03, 18:29||رقم المشاركة : 2|
i'm going to give you a simple story.all the kids know her
|2009-04-11, 10:56||رقم المشاركة : 3|
The Princess of Merrylandia
|2009-04-11, 10:57||رقم المشاركة : 4|
[Left out of A Tramp Abroad, because it was feared that some of the particulars had been exaggerated, and that others were not true. Before these suspicions had been proven groundless, the book had gone to press. --M. T.]
The Stolen White Elephant
The following curious history was related to me by a chance railway acquaintance. He was a gentleman more than seventy years of age, and his thoroughly good and gentle face and earnest and sincere manner imprinted the unmistakable stamp of truth upon every statement which fell from his lips. He said:
You know in what reverence the royal white elephant of Siam is held by the people of that country. You know it is sacred to kings, only kings may possess it, and that it is, indeed, in a measure even superior to kings, since it receives not merely honor but worship. Very well; five years ago, when the troubles concerning the frontier line arose between Great Britain and Siam, it was presently manifest that Siam had been in the wrong. Therefore every reparation was quickly made, and the British representative stated that he was satisfied and the past should be forgotten. This greatly relieved the King of Siam, and partly as a token of gratitude, partly also, perhaps, to wipe out any little remaining vestige of unpleasantness which England might feel toward him, he wished to send the Queen a present--the sole sure way of propitiating an enemy, according to Oriental ideas. This present ought not only to be a royal one, but transcendently royal. Wherefore, what offering could be so meet as that of a white elephant? My position in the Indian civil service was such that I was deemed peculiarly worthy of the honor of conveying the present to her Majesty. A ship was fitted out for me and my servants and the officers and attendants of the elephant, and in due time I arrived in New York harbor and placed my royal charge in admirable quarters in Jersey City. It was necessary to remain awhile in order to recruit the animal's health before resuming the voyage.
All went well during a fortnight--then my calamities began. The white elephant was stolen! I was called up at dead of night and informed of this fearful misfortune. For some moments I was beside myself with terror and anxiety; I was helpless. Then I grew calmer and collected my faculties. I soon saw my course--for, indeed, there was but the one course for an intelligent man to pursue. Late as it was, I flew to New York and got a policeman to conduct me to the headquarters of the detective force. Fortunately I arrived in time, though the chief of the force, the celebrated Inspector Blunt was just on the point of leaving for his home. He was a man of middle size and compact frame, and when he was thinking deeply he had a way of kniting his brows and tapping his forehead reflectively with his finger, which impressed you at once with the conviction that you stood in the presence of a person of no common order. The very sight of him gave me confidence and made me hopeful. I stated my errand. It did not flurry him in the least; it had no more visible effect upon his iron self-possession than if I had told him somebody had stolen my dog. He motioned me to a seat, and said, calmly:
"Allow me to think a moment, please."
So saying, he sat down at his office table and leaned his head upon his hand. Several clerks were at work at the other end of the room; the scratching of their pens was all the sound I heard during the next six or seven minutes. Meantime the inspector sat there, buried in thought. Finally he raised his head, and there was that in the firm lines of his face which showed me that his brain had done its work and his plan was made. Said he--and his voice was low and impressive:
"This is no ordinary case. Every step must be warily taken; each step must be made sure before the next is ventured. And secrecy must be observed--secrecy profound and absolute. Speak to no one about the matter, not even the reporters. I will take care of them; I will see that they get only what it may suit my ends to let them know." He touched a bell; a youth appeared. "Alaric, tell the reporters to remain for the present." The boy retired. "Now let us proceed to business--and systematically. Nothing can be accomplished in this trade of mine without strict and minute method."
He took a pen and some paper. "Now--name of the elephant?"
"Hassan Ben Ali Ben Selim Abdallah Mohammed Moist Alhammal Jamsetjejeebhoy Dhuleep Sultan Ebu Bhudpoor."
"Very well. Given name?"
"Very well. Place of birth?"
"The capital city of Siam."
"Had they any other issue besides this one?"
"None. He was an only child."
"Very well. These matters are sufficient under that head. Now please describe the elephant, and leave out no particular, however insignificant--that is, insignificant from your point of view. To me in my profession there are no insignificant particulars; they do not exist."
I described he wrote. When I was done, he said:
"Now listen. If I have made any mistakes, correct me."
He read as follows:
"Height, 19 feet; length from apex of forehead insertion of tail, 26 feet; length of trunk, 16 feet; length of tail, 6 feet; total length, including trunk, and tail, 48 feet; length of tusks, 9 feet; ears keeping with these dimensions; footprint resembles the mark left when one up-ends a barrel in the snow; the color of the elephant, a dull white; has a hole the size of a plate in each ear for the insertion of jewelry and possesses the habit in a remarkable degree of squirting water upon spectators and of maltreating with his trunk not only such persons as he is acquainted with, but even entire strangers; limps slightly with his right hind leg, and has a small scar in his left armpit caused by a former boil; had on, when stolen, a castle containing seats for fifteen persons, and a gold-cloth saddle-blanket the size of an ordinary carpet."
There were no mistakes. The inspector touched the bell, handed the description to Alaric, and said:
"Have fifty thousand copies of this printed at once and mailed to every detective office and pawnbroker's shop on the continent." Alaric retired. "There--so far, so good. Next, I must have a photograph of the property."
I gave him one. He examined it critically, and said:
"It must do, since we can do no better; but he has his trunk curled up and tucked into his mouth. That is unfortunate, and is calculated to mislead, for of course he does not usually have it in that position." He touched his bell.
"Alaric, have fifty thousand copies of this photograph made the first thing in the morning, and mail them with the descriptive circulars."
Alaric retired to execute his orders. The inspector said:
"It will be necessary to offer a reward, of course. Now as to the amount?"
"What sum would you suggest?"
"To begin with, I should say--well, twenty-five thousand dollars. It is an intricate and difficult business; there are a thousand avenues of escape and opportunities of concealment. These thieves have friends and pals everywhere--"
"Bless me, do you know who they are?"
The wary face, practised in concealing the thoughts and feelings within, gave me no token, nor yet the replying words, so quietly uttered:
"Never mind about that. I may, and I may not. We generally gather a pretty shrewd inkling of who our man is by the manner of his work and the size of the game he goes after. We are not dealing with a pickpocket or a hall thief now, make up your mind to that. This property was not 'lifted' by a novice. But, as I was saying, considering the amount of travel which will have to be done, and the diligence with which the thieves will cover up their traces as they move along, twenty-five thousand may be too small a sum to offer, yet I think it worth while to start with that."
So we determined upon that figure as a beginning. Then this man, whom nothing escaped which could by any possibility be made to serve as a clue, said:
"There are cases in detective history to show that criminals have been detected through peculiarities, in their appetites. Now, what does this elephant eat, and how much?"
"Well, as to what he eats--he will eat anything. He will eat a man, he will eat a Bible--he will eat anything between a man and a Bible."
"Good very good, indeed, but too general. Details are necessary--details are the only valuable things in our trade. Very well--as to men. At one meal--or, if you prefer, during one day--how man men will he eat, if fresh?"
"He would not care whether they were fresh or not; at a single meal he would eat five ordinary men.
"Very good; five men; we will put that down. What nationalities would he prefer?"
"He is indifferent about nationalities. He prefers acquaintances, but is not prejudiced against strangers."
"Very good. Now, as to Bibles. How many Bibles would he eat at a meal?"
"He would eat an entire edition."
"It is hardly succinct enough. Do you mean the ordinary octavo, or the family illustrated?"
"I think he would be indifferent to illustrations that is, I think he would not value illustrations above simple letterpress."
"No, you do not get my idea. I refer to bulk. The ordinary octavo Bible weighs about two pound; and a half, while the great quarto with the illustrations weighs ten or twelve. How many Dore Bibles would he eat at a meal?"
"If you knew this elephant, you could not ask. He would take what they had."
"Well, put it in dollars and cents, then. We must get at it somehow. The Dore costs a hundred dollars a copy, Russia leather, beveled."
"He would require about fifty thousand dollars worth--say an edition of five hundred copies."
"Now that is more exact. I will put that down. Very well; he likes men and Bibles; so far, so good. What else will he eat? I want particulars."
"He will leave Bibles to eat bricks, he will leave bricks to eat bottles, he will leave bottles to eat clothing, he will leave clothing to eat cats, he will leave cats to eat oysters, he will leave oysters to eat ham, he will leave ham to eat sugar, he will leave sugar to eat pie, he will leave pie to eat potatoes, he will leave potatoes to eat bran; he will leave bran to eat hay, he will leave hay to eat oats, he will leave oats to eat rice, for he was mainly raised on it. There is nothing whatever that he will not eat but European butter, and he would eat that if he could taste it."
"Very good. General quantity at a meal--say about--"
"Well, anywhere from a quarter to half a ton."
"And he drinks--"
"Everything that is fluid. Milk, water, whisky, molasses, castor oil, camphene, carbolic acid--it is no use to go into particulars; whatever fluid occurs to you set it down. He will drink anything that is fluid, except European coffee."
"Very good. As to quantity?"
"Put it down five to fifteen barrels--his thirst varies; his other appetites do not."
"These things are unusual. They ought to furnish quite good clues toward tracing him."
He touched the bell.
"Alaric; summon Captain Burns."
Burns appeared. Inspector Blunt unfolded the whole matter to him, detail by detail. Then he said in the clear, decisive tones of a man whose plans are clearly defined in his head and who is accustomed to command:
"Captain Burns, detail Detectives Jones, Davis, Halsey, Bates, and Hackett to shadow the elephant."
"Detail Detectives Moses, Dakin, Murphy, Rogers, Tupper, Higgins, and Bartholomew to shadow the thieves."
"Place a strong guard--A guard of thirty picked men, with a relief of thirty--over the place from whence the elephant was stolen, to keep strict watch there night and day, and allow none to approach--except reporters--without written authority from me."
"Place detectives in plain clothes in the railway; steamship, and ferry depots, and upon all roadways leading out of Jersey City, with orders to search all suspicious persons."
"Furnish all these men with photograph and accompanying description of the elephant, and instruct them to search all trains and outgoing ferryboats and other vessels."
"If the elephant should be found, let him be seized, and the information forwarded to me by telegraph."
"Let me be informed at once if any clues should be found footprints of the animal, or anything of that kind."
"Get an order commanding the harbor police to patrol the frontages vigilantly."
"Despatch detectives in plain clothes over all the railways, north as far as Canada, west as far as Ohio, south as far as Washington."
"Place experts in all the telegraph offices to listen in to all messages; and let them require that all cipher despatches be interpreted to them."
"Let all these things be done with the utmost's secrecy--mind, the most impenetrable secrecy."
"Report to me promptly at the usual hour."
He was gone.
Inspector Blunt was silent and thoughtful a moment, while the fire in his eye cooled down and faded out. Then he turned to me and said in a placid voice:
"I am not given to boasting, it is not my habit; but--we shall find the elephant."
I shook him warmly by the hand and thanked him; and I felt my thanks, too. The more I had seen of the man the more I liked him and the more I admired him and marveled over the mysterious wonders of his profession. Then we parted for the night, and I went home with a far happier heart than I had carried with me to his office.
Next morning it was all in the newspapers, in the minutest detail. It even had additions--consisting of Detective This, Detective That, and Detective The Other's "Theory" as to how the robbery was done, who the robbers were, and whither they had flown with their booty. There were eleven of these theories, and they covered all the possibilities; and this single fact shows what independent thinkers detectives are. No two theories were alike, or even much resembled each other, save in one striking particular, and in that one all the other eleven theories were absolutely agreed. That was, that although the rear of my building was torn out and the only door remained locked, the elephant had not been removed through the rent, but by some other (undiscovered) outlet. All agreed that the robbers had made that rent only to mislead the detectives. That never would have occurred to me or to any other layman, perhaps, but it had not deceived the detectives for a moment. Thus, what I had supposed was the only thing that had no mystery about it was in fact the very thing I had gone furthest astray in. The eleven theories all named the supposed robbers, but no two named the same robbers; the total number of suspected persons was thirty-seven. The various newspaper accounts all closed with the most important opinion of all --that of Chief Inspector Blunt. A portion of this statement read as follows:
The chief knows who the two principals are, namely, "Brick" Daffy and "Red" McFadden. Ten days before the robbery was achieved he was already aware that it was to be attempted, and had quietly proceeded to shadow these two noted villains; but unfortunately on the night in question their track was lost, and before it could be found again the bird was flown--that is, the elephant.
Daffy and McFadden are the boldest scoundrels in the profession; the chief has reasons for believing that they are the men who stole the stove out of the detective headquarters on a bitter night last winter--in consequence of which the chief and every detective present were in the hands of the physicians before morning, some with frozen feet, others with frozen fingers, ears, and other members.
When I read the first half of that I was more astonished than ever at the wonderful sagacity of this strange man. He not only saw everything in the present with a clear eye, but even the future could not be hidden from him. I was soon at his office, and said I could not help wishing he had had those men arrested, and so prevented the trouble and loss; but his reply was simple and unanswerable:
"It is not our province to prevent crime, but to punish it. We cannot punish it until it is committed."
I remarked that the secrecy with which we had begun had been marred by the newspapers; not only all our facts but all our plans and purposes had been revealed; even all the suspected persons had been named; these would doubtless disguise themselves now, or go into hiding.
"Let them. They will find that when I am ready for them my hand will descend upon them, in their secret places, as unerringly as the hand of fate. As to the newspapers, we must keep in with them. Fame, reputation, constant public mention--these are the detective's bread and butter. He must publish his facts, else he will be supposed to have none; he must publish his theory, for nothing is so strange or striking as a detective's theory, or brings him so much wonderful respect; we must publish our plans, for these the journals insist upon having, and we could not deny them without offending. We must constantly show the public what we are doing, or they will believe we are doing nothing. It is much pleasanter to have a newspaper say, 'Inspector Blunt's ingenious and extraordinary theory is as follows,' than to have it say some harsh thing, or, worse still, some sarcastic one."
"I see the force of what you say. But I noticed that in one part of your remarks in the papers this morning you refused to reveal your opinion upon a certain minor point."
"Yes, we always do that; it has a good effect. Besides, I had not formed any opinion on that point, anyway."
I deposited a considerable sum of money with the inspector, to meet current expenses, and sat down to wait for news. We were expecting the telegrams to begin to arrive at any moment now. Meantime I reread the newspapers and also our descriptive circular, and observed that our twenty-five thousand dollars reward seemed to be offered only to detectives. I said I thought it ought to be offered to anybody who would catch the elephant. The inspector said:
"It is the detectives who will find the elephant; hence the reward will go to the right place. If other people found the animal, it would only be by watching the detectives and taking advantage of clues and indications stolen from them, and that would entitle the detectives to the reward, after all. The proper office of a reward is to stimulate the men who deliver up their time and their trained sagacities to this sort of work, and not to confer benefits upon chance citizens who stumble upon a capture without having earned the benefits by their own merits and labors."
This was reasonable enough, certainly. Now the telegraphic machine in the corner began to click, and the following despatch was the result:
FLOWER STATION, N. Y., 7.30 A.M.
Have got a clue. Found a succession of deep tracks across a farm near here. Followed them two miles east without result; think elephant went west. Shall now shadow him in that direction.
"Darley's one of the best men on the force," said the inspector. "We shall hear from him again before long."
Telegram No. 2 came:
BARKER'S, N. J., 7.40 A.M.
Just arrived. Glass factory broken open here during night, and eight hundred bottles taken. Only water in large quantity near here is five miles distant. Shall strike for there. Elephant will be thirsty. Bottles were empty.
"That promises well, too," said the inspector.
"I told you the creature's appetites would not be bad clues."
Telegram No. 3:
TAYLORVILLE, L. I. 8.15 A.M.
A haystack near here disappeared during night. Probably eaten. Have got a clue, and am off.
"How he does move around!" said the inspector "I knew we had a difficult job on hand, but we shall catch him yet."
FLOWER STATION, N. Y., 9 A.M.
Shadowed the tracks three miles westward. Large, deep, and ragged. Have just met a farmer who says they are not elephant-tracks. Says they are holes where he dug up saplings for shade-trees when ground was frozen last winter. Give me orders how to proceed.
"Aha! a confederate of the thieves! The thing, grows warm," said the inspector.
He dictated the following telegram to Darley:
Arrest the man and force him to name his pals. Continue to follow the tracks to the Pacific, if necessary.
CONEY POINT, PA., 8.45 A.M.
Gas office broken open here during night and three month; unpaid gas bills taken. Have got a clue and am away.
"Heavens!" said the inspector; "would he eat gas bills?"
"Through ignorance--yes; but they cannot support life. At least, unassisted."
Now came this exciting telegram:
IRONVILLE, N. Y., 9.30 A.M.
Just arrived. This village in consternation. Elephant passed through here at five this morning. Some say he went east some say west, some north, some south--but all say they did not wait to notice, particularly. He killed a horse; have secure a piece of it for a clue. Killed it with his trunk; from style of blow, think he struck it left-handed. From position in which horse lies, think elephant traveled northward along line Berkley Railway. Has four and a half hours' start, but I move on his track at once.
I uttered exclamations of joy. The inspector was as self-contained as a graven image. He calmly touched his bell.
"Alaric, send Captain Burns here."
"How many men are ready for instant orders?"
"Send them north at once. Let them concentrate along the line of the Berkley road north of Ironville."
"Let them conduct their movements with the utmost secrecy. As fast as others are at liberty, hold them for orders."
Presently came another telegram:
SAGE CORNERS, N. Y., 10.30.
Just arrived. Elephant passed through here at 8.15. All escaped from the town but a policeman. Apparently elephant did not strike at policeman, but at the lamp-post. Got both. I have secured a portion of the policeman as clue.
"So the elephant has turned westward," said the inspector. "However, he will not escape, for my men are scattered all over that region."
The next telegram said:
Just arrived. Village deserted, except sick and aged. Elephant passed through three-quarters of an hour ago. The anti-temperance mass-meeting was in session; he put his trunk in at a window and washed it out with water from cistern. Some swallowed it--since dead; several drowned. Detectives Cross and O'Shaughnessy were passing through town, but going south--so missed elephant. Whole region for many miles around in terror --people flying from their homes. Wherever they turn they meet elephant, and many are killed.
I could have shed tears, this havoc so distressed me. But the inspector only said:
"You see--we are closing in on him. He feels our presence; he has turned eastward again."
Yet further troublous news was in store for us. The telegraph brought this:
Just arrived. Elephant passed through half an hour ago, creating wildest fright and excitement. Elephant raged around streets; two plumbers going by, killed one--other escaped. Regret general.
"Now he is right in the midst of my men," said the inspector. "Nothing can save him."
A succession of telegrams came from detectives who were scattered through New Jersey and Pennsylvania, and who were following clues consisting of ravaged barns, factories, and Sunday-school libraries, with high hopes-hopes amounting to certainties, indeed. The inspector said:
"I wish I could communicate with them and order them north, but that is impossible. A detective only visits a telegraph office to send his report; then he is off again, and you don't know where to put your hand on him."
Now came this despatch:
BRIDGEPORT, CT., 12.15.
Barnum offers rate of $4,000 a year for exclusive privilege of using elephant as traveling advertising medium from now till detectives find him. Wants to paste circus-posters on him. Desires immediate answer.
"That is perfectly absurd!" I exclaimed.
"Of course it is," said the inspector. "Evidently Mr. Barnum, who thinks he is so sharp, does not know me--but I know him."
Then he dictated this answer to the despatch:
Mr. Barnum's offer declined. Make it $7,000 or nothing.
"There. We shall not have to wait long for an answer. Mr. Barnum is not at home; he is in the telegraph office--it is his way when he has business on hand. Inside of three--"
Done.--P. T. BARNUM.
So interrupted the clicking telegraphic instrument. Before I could make a comment upon this extraordinary episode, the following despatch carried my thoughts into another and very distressing channel:
BOLIVIA, N. Y., 12.50.
Elephant arrived here from the south and passed through toward the forest at 11.50, dispersing a funeral on the way, and diminishing the mourners by two. Citizens fired some small cannon-balls into him, and they fled. Detective Burke and I arrived ten minutes later, from the north, but mistook some excavations for footprints, and so lost a good deal of time; but at last we struck the right trail and followed it to the woods. We then got down on our hands and knees and continued to keep a sharp eye on the track, and so shadowed it into the brush. Burke was in advance. Unfortunately the animal had stopped to rest; therefore, Burke having his head down, intent upon the track, butted up against the elephant's hind legs before he was aware of his vicinity. Burke instantly arose to his feet, seized the tail, and exclaimed joyfully, "I claim the re--" but got no further, for a single blow of the huge trunk laid the brave fellow's fragments low in death. I fled rearward, and the elephant turned and shadowed me to the edge of the wood, making tremendous speed, and I should inevitably have been lost, but that the remains of the funeral providentially intervened again and diverted his attention. I have just learned that nothing of that funeral is now left; but this is no loss, for there is abundance of material for another. Meantime, the elephant has disappeared again.
We heard no news except from the diligent and confident detectives scattered about New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Delaware, and Virginia--who were all following fresh and encouraging clues--until shortly after 2 P.M., when this telegram came:
BAXTER CENTER, 2.15.
Elephant been here, plastered over with circus-bills, any broke up a revival, striking down and damaging many who were on the point of entering upon a better life. Citizens penned him up and established a guard. When Detective Brown and I arrived, some time after, we entered inclosure and proceeded to identify elephant by photograph and description. All masks tallied exactly except one, which we could not see--the boil-scar under armpit. To make sure, Brown crept under to look, and was immediately brained--that is, head crushed and destroyed, though nothing issued from debris. All fled so did elephant, striking right and left with much effect. He escaped, but left bold blood-track from cannon-wounds. Rediscovery certain. He broke southward, through a dense forest.
That was the last telegram. At nightfall a fog shut down which was so dense that objects but three feet away could not be discerned. This lasted all night. The ferry-boats and even the omnibuses had to stop running.
Next morning the papers were as full of detective theories as before; they had all our tragic facts in detail also, and a great many more which they had received from their telegraphic correspondents. Column after column was occupied, a third of its way down, with glaring head-lines, which it made my heart sick to read. Their general tone was like this:
THE WHITE ELEPHANT AT LARGE! HE MOVES UPON HIS FATAL MARCH WHOLE VILLAGES DESERTED BY THEIR FRIGHT-STRICKEN OCCUPANTS! PALE TERROR GOES BEFORE HIM, DEATH AND DEVASTATION FOLLOW AFTER! AFTER THESE, THE DETECTIVES! BARNS DESTROYED, FACTORIES GUTTED, HARVESTS DEVOURED, PUBLIC ASSEMBLAGES DISPERSED, ACCOMPANIED BY SCENES OF CARNAGE IMPOSSIBLE TO DESCRIBE! THEORIES OF THIRTY-FOUR OF THE MOST DISTINGUISHED DETECTIVES ON THE FORCES! THEORY OF CHIEF BLUNT!
"There!" said Inspector Blunt, almost betrayed into excitement, "this is magnificent! This is the greatest windfall that any detective organization ever had. The fame of it will travel to the ends of the earth, and endure to the end of time, and my name with it."
But there was no joy for me. I felt as if I had committed all those red crimes, and that the elephant was only my irresponsible agent. And how the list had grown! In one place he had "interfered with an election and killed five repeaters." He had followed this act with the destruction of two pool fellows, named O'Donohue and McFlannigan, who had "found a refuge in the home of the oppressed of all lands only the day before, and were in the act of exercising for the first time the noble right of American citizens at the polls, when stricken down by the relentless hand of the Scourge of Siam." In another, he had "found a crazy sensation-preacher preparing his next season's heroic attacks on the dance, the theater, and other things which can't strike back, and had stepped on him." And in still another place he had "killed a lightning-rod agent." And so the list went on, growing redder and redder, and more and more heartbreaking. Sixty persons had been killed, and two hundred and forty wounded. All the accounts bore just testimony to the activity and devotion of the detectives, and all closed with the remark that "three hundred thousand citizen; and four detectives saw the dread creature, and two of the latter he destroyed."
I dreaded to hear the telegraphic instrument begin to click again. By and by the messages began to pour in, but I was happily disappointed in they nature. It was soon apparent that all trace of the elephant was lost. The fog had enabled him to search out a good hiding-place unobserved. Telegrams from the most absurdly distant points reported that a dim vast mass had been glimpsed there through the fog at such and such an hour, and was "undoubtedly the elephant." This dim vast mass had been glimpsed in New Haven, in New Jersey, in Pennsylvania, in interior New York, in Brooklyn, and even in the city of New York itself! But in all cases the dim vast mass had vanished quickly and left no trace. Every detective of the large force scattered over this huge extent of country sent his hourly report, and each and every one of them had a clue, and was shadowing something, and was hot upon the heels of it.
But the day passed without other result.
The next day the same.
The next just the same.
The newspaper reports began to grow monotonous with facts that amounted to nothing, clues which led to nothing, and theories which had nearly exhausted the elements which surprise and delight and dazzle.
By advice of the inspector I doubled the reward.
Four more dull days followed. Then came a bitter blow to the poor, hard-working detectives--the journalists declined to print their theories, and coldly said, "Give us a rest."
Two weeks after the elephant's disappearance I raised the reward to seventy-five thousand dollars by the inspector's advice. It was a great sum, but I felt that I would rather sacrifice my whole private fortune than lose my credit with my government. Now that the detectives were in adversity, the newspapers turned upon them, and began to fling the most stinging sarcasms at them. This gave the minstrels an idea, and they dressed themselves as detectives and hunted the elephant on the stage in the most extravagant way. The caricaturists made pictures of detectives scanning the country with spy-glasses, while the elephant, at their backs, stole apples out of their pockets. And they made all sorts of ridiculous pictures of the detective badge--you have seen that badge printed in gold on the back of detective novels, no doubt it is a wide-staring eye, with the legend, "WE NEVER SLEEP." When detectives called for a drink, the would-be facetious barkeeper resurrected an obsolete form of expression and said, "Will you have an eye-opener?" All the air was thick with sarcasms.
But there was one man who moved calm, untouched, unaffected, through it all. It was that heart of oak, the chief inspector. His brave eye never drooped, his serene confidence never wavered. He always said:
"Let them rail on; he laughs best who laughs last."
My admiration for the man grew into a species of worship. I was at his side always. His office had become an unpleasant place to me, and now became daily more and more so. Yet if he could endure it I meant to do so also--at least, as long as I could. So I came regularly, and stayed --the only outsider who seemed to be capable of it. Everybody wondered how I could; and often it seemed to me that I must desert, but at such times I looked into that calm and apparently unconscious face, and held my ground.
About three weeks after the elephant's disappearance I was about to say, one morning, that I should have to strike my colors and retire, when the great detective arrested the thought by proposing one more superb and masterly move.
This was to compromise with the robbers. The fertility of this man's invention exceeded anything I have ever seen, and I have had a wide intercourse with the world's finest minds. He said he was confident he could compromise for one hundred thousand dollars and recover the elephant. I said I believed I could scrape the amount together, but what would become of the poor detectives who had worked so faithfully? He said:
"In compromises they always get half."
This removed my only objection. So the inspector wrote two notes, in this form:
DEAR MADAM,--Your husband can make a large sum of money (and be entirely protected from the law) by making an immediate, appointment with me. Chief BLUNT.
He sent one of these by his confidential messenger to the "reputed wife" of Brick Duffy, and the other to the reputed wife of Red McFadden.
Within the hour these offensive answers came:
YE OWLD FOOL: brick Duffys bin ded 2 yere.
CHIEF BAT,--Red McFadden is hung and in heving 18 month. Any Ass but a detective know that.
"I had long suspected these facts," said the inspector; "this testimony proves the unerring accuracy of my instinct."
The moment one resource failed him he was ready with another. He immediately wrote an advertisement for the morning papers, and I kept a copy of it:
A.--xWhlv. 242 ht. Tjnd--fz328wmlg. Ozpo,--2 m! 2m!. M! ogw.
He said that if the thief was alive this would bring him to the usual rendezvous. He further explained that the usual rendezvous was a glare where all business affairs between detectives and criminals were conducted. This meeting would take place at twelve the next night.
We could do nothing till then, and I lost no time in getting out of the office, and was grateful indeed for the privilege.
At eleven the next night I brought one hundred thousand dollars in bank-notes and put them into the chief's hands, and shortly afterward he took his leave, with the brave old undimmed confidence in his eye. An almost intolerable hour dragged to a close; then I heard his welcome tread, and rose gasping and tottered to meet him. How his fine eyes flamed with triumph! He said:
"We've compromised! The jokers will sing a different tune to-morrow! Follow me!"
He took a lighted candle and strode down into the vast vaulted basement where sixty detectives always slept, and where a score were now playing cards to while the time. I followed close after him. He walked swiftly down to the dim and remote end of the place, and just as I succumbed to the pangs of suffocation and was swooning away he stumbled and fell over the outlying members of a mighty object, and I heard him exclaim as he went down:
"Our noble profession is vindicated. Here is your elephant!"
I was carried to the office above and restored with carbolic acid. The whole detective force swarmed in, and such another season of triumphant rejoicing ensued as I had never witnessed before. The reporters were called, baskets of champagne were opened, toasts were drunk, the handshakings and congratulations were continuous and enthusiastic. Naturally the chief was the hero of the hour, and his happiness was so complete and had been so patiently and worthily and bravely won that it made me happy to see it, though I stood there a homeless beggar, my priceless charge dead, and my position in my country's service lost to me through what would always seem my fatally careless execution of a great trust. Many an eloquent eye testified its deep admiration for the chief, and many a detective's voice murmured, "Look at him--just the king of the profession; only give him a clue, it's all he wants, and there ain't anything hid that he can't find." The dividing of the fifty thousand dollars made great pleasure; when it was finished the chief made a little speech while he put his share in his pocket, in which he said, "Enjoy it, boys, for you've earned it; and, more than that, you've earned for the detective profession undying fame."
A telegram arrived, which read:
MONROE, MICH., 10 P.M.
First time I've struck a telegraph office in over three weeks. Have followed those footprints, horseback, through the woods, a thousand miles to here, and they get stronger and bigger and fresher every day. Don't worry-inside of another week I'll have the elephant. This is dead sure.
The chief ordered three cheers for "Darley, one of the finest minds on the force," and then commanded that he be telegraphed to come home and receive his share of the reward.
So ended that marvelous episode of the stolen elephant. The newspapers were pleasant with praises once more, the next day, with one contemptible exception. This sheet said, "Great is the detective! He may be a little slow in finding a little thing like a mislaid elephant he may hunt him all day and sleep with his rotting carcass all night for three weeks, but he will find him at last if he can get the man who mislaid him to show him the place!"
Poor Hassan was lost to me forever. The cannonshots had wounded him fatally, he had crept to that unfriendly place in the fog, and there, surrounded by his enemies and in constant danger of detection, he had wasted away with hunger and suffering till death gave him peace.
The compromise cost me one hundred thousand dollars; my detective expenses were forty-two thousand dollars more; I never applied for a place again under my government; I am a ruined man and a wanderer on the earth but my admiration for that man, whom I believe to be the greatest detective the world has ever produced, remains undimmed to this day, and will so remain unto the end.
|2009-04-11, 11:00||رقم المشاركة : 5|
The Ugly Duckling
By Hans Christian Anderson
The country was very lovely just then-it was summer. The wheat was golden and the oats still green. The hay was stacked in the rich low meadows, where the stork marched about on his long red legs, chattering in Egyptian, the ******** his mother had taught him.
Round about field and meadow lay great woods, in the midst of which were deep lakes. The country certainly was lovely. In the sunniest spot stood an old mansion surrounded by a deep moat, and great burdock leaves grew from the walls of the house right down to the water's edge. Some of them were so tall that a small child could stand upright under them. Among the leaves it was secluded as in the depths of the forest, and there a duck was sitting on her nest.
Her little ducklings were just about to be hatched, and she was quite tired of sitting, for it had been such a long time. Moreover, she had very few visitors, as the other ducks liked swimming in the moat better than waddling up the bank to sit under the leaves and gossip with her.
At last one egg after another began to crack.
"Cheep, cheep!" they said. The chicks had come to life and were poking their heads out.
"Quack, quack!" said the duck, and they all quacked their hardest and looked about them on all sides among the leaves. Their mother allowed them to look as much as they liked, for green is good for the eyes.
"Oh, how big the world is!" said all the young ducklings. They certainly now had so much more room to move about than when they were inside their ****ls.
"Do you think that this is the whole world?" said the mother. "It stretches a long way on the other side of the garden, right into the parson's field, though I have never been as far as that. I suppose you are all here?"
She got up and looked around.
"No! I declare I have not got you all yet! The biggest egg is still there. How long is this going to take!" she said, and settled herself on the nest again.
"How are you getting on?" asked an old duck who had come to pay her a visit.
"This one egg is taking such a long time!" the mother duck answered. "The ****l will not crack. But, you must have seen the others. They are the finest ducklings I have ever seen! They are all exactly like their father, the rascal!-yet he never comes to visit me."
"Let me look at that egg which won't crack," said the old duck. "You may be sure that it is a turkey egg! I was cheated like that once and I had so much trouble and worry with the creatures, for I may tell you that they are afraid of the water! I could simply not get them into it. I quacked and snapped, but it did no good. Let me see the egg! Yes, yes, it is indeed a turkey's egg! You just leave it alone, and teach your other children to swim."
"I think I will sit on it a little while longer," said the duck; "as I have sat so long already, a few days will be nothing."
"Well, suit yourself," said the old duck, and she swam away.
At last the big egg hatched.
"Peep, peep!" said the baby and squirmed out of the ****l.
The mother duck looked at him. How big and ugly he was!
"This is a monstrous big duckling!" she said. "None of the other ducklings looked like that! Is it indeed possible that he is a turkey chick? Well, we shall soon out. Into the water he will do, even if I have to kick him in myself."
The next day was an exceptionally fine day. The sun shone brightly on the the large burdock leaves. The mother duck and her whole new family went down to the moat.
Splash! into the water she jumped, and one duckling after another plunged in after her. The water dashed over their heads, but they quickly bobbed right up, and they all floated beautifully. Even the big ugly gray one.
"No, that's no turkey," she said, "See how beautifully he swims and how erects he holds himself in the water. He is my own chick, and perhaps, he is not that bad looking when you look at him properly."
"Quack, quack!" she said to her ducklings, "Come with me, and I will take you out into the world and introduce you to the duck yard. But keep close to me all the time. Someone might tread on you. And do beware of the cat!"
Then they all swan into the duck yard. There was a fearful to-do going on, for two broods were fighting for the head of an ell, but in the end, the cat grabbed it.
"Now, that's the the way things go in this world," said the mother, and she licked her bill, for she would have liked the eel's head herself.
"Use your legs," she instructed the ducklings, "Mind your quacks and bow your necks to the old duck over there. She is the grandest of us all. She has Spanish blood in her veins and that accounts for her size. Do you see the red rag round her leg? That is a wonderfully fine thing, and the most extraordinary mark of distinction any duck can have. It clearly shows that she is not to be parted with, and that she is worthy of recognition both by man and beast. Quack, now. Don't turn your toes in! A well-raised duckling keeps his legs wide apart. My, my, that's it. Now bend your necks and say quack!"
The ducklings did as they were instructed, but not all the fowls in the duck yard were impressed.
"How now! As if there were not enough of us already!" complained some of the residents. "And, look there! How ugly that duckling is! We won't have him here!" And a duck flew at him at once and bit him on the neck.
"Let him alone," said the mother; "he is not doing any harm."
"True, but he is so big and ugly," said the spiteful duck "and therefore he must be turned out."
"The others are very pretty children," said the old duck, with the rag on her leg, "all but that one; I wish his mother could improve him a little."
"That is impossible, your grace," replied the mother; "he is not pretty; but he has a very good disposition, and swims as well or even better than the others. I think he will grow up pretty, and perhaps be smaller; he has remained too long in the egg, and therefore his figure is not properly formed;" and then she stroked his neck and smoothed the feathers, saying, "It is a drake, and therefore not of so much consequence. I think he will grow up strong, and able to take care of himself."
"The other ducklings are graceful enough," said the old duck. "Now make yourself at home, and if you can find an eel's head, you can bring it to me."
And so they made themselves comfortable; but the poor duckling, who had crept out of his ****l last of all, and looked so ugly, was bitten and pushed and made fun of, not only by the ducks, but by all the poultry. "He is too big," they all said, and the turkey cock, who had been born into the world with spurs, and fancied himself really an emperor, puffed himself out like a vessel in full sail, and flew at the duckling, and became quite red in the head with passion, so that the poor little thing did not know where to go, and was quite miserable because he was so ugly and laughed at by the whole farmyard. So it went on from day to day till it got worse and worse.
The poor duckling was driven about by every one; even his brothers and sisters were unkind to him, and would say, "Ah, you ugly creature, I wish the cat would get you," and his mother said she wished he had never been born. The ducks pecked him, the chickens beat him, and the girl who fed the poultry kicked him with her feet. So at last he ran away, frightening the little birds in the hedge as he flew over the palings.
"They are afraid of me because I am ugly," he said. So he closed his eyes, and flew still farther, until he came out on a large moor, inhabited by wild ducks. Here he remained the whole night, feeling very tired and sorrowful.
In the morning, when the wild ducks rose in the air, they stared at their new comrade. "What sort of a duck are you?" they all said, coming round him. He bowed to them, and was as polite as he could be, but he did not
reply to their question.
"You are exceedingly ugly," said the wild ducks, "but that will not matter if you do not want to marry one of our family."
Poor thing! he had no thoughts of marriage; all he wanted was permission to lie among the rushes, and drink some of the water on the moor. After he had been on the moor two days, there came two wild geese, or rather goslings, for they had not been out of the egg long, and were very saucy.
"Listen, friend," said one of them to the duckling, "you are so ugly, that we like you very well. Will you go with us, and become a bird of passage? Not far from here is another moor, in which there are some pretty wild geese, all unmarried. It is a chance for you to get a wife; you may be lucky, ugly as you are."
"Pop, pop," sounded in the air, and the two wild geese fell dead among the rushes, and the water was tinged with blood.
"Pop, pop," echoed far and wide in the distance, and whole flocks of wild geese rose up from the rushes. The sound continued from every direction, for the sportsmen surrounded the moor, and some were even seated on branches of trees, overlooking the rushes. The blue smoke from the guns rose like clouds over the dark trees, and as it floated away across the water, a number of sporting dogs bounded in among the rushes, which bent beneath them wherever they went. How they terrified the poor duckling! He turned away his head to hide it under his wing, and at the same moment a large terrible dog passed quite near him. His jaws were open, his tongue hung from his mouth, and his eyes glared fearfully. He thrust his nose close to the duckling, showing his sharp teeth, and then, "splash, splash," he went into the water without touching him.
"Oh," sighed the duckling, "how thankful I am for being so ugly; even a dog will not bite me." And so he lay quite still, while the shot rattled through the rushes, and gun after gun was fired over him. It was late in the day before all became quiet, but even then the poor young thing did not dare to move. He waited quietly for several hours, and then, after looking carefully around him, hastened away from the moor as fast as he could.
He ran over field and meadow till a storm arose, and he could hardly struggle against it. Towards evening, he reached a poor little cottage that seemed ready to fall, and only remained standing because it could not decide on which side to fall first. The storm continued so violent, that the duckling could go no farther; he sat down by the cottage, and then he noticed that the door was not quite closed in consequence of one of the hinges having given way. There was therefore a narrow opening near the bottom large enough for him to slip through, which he did very quietly, and got a ****ter for the night. A woman, a tom cat, and a hen lived in this cottage.
The tom cat, whom the mistress called, "My little son," was a great favorite; he could raise his back, and purr, and could even throw out sparks from his fur if it were stroked the wrong way. The hen had very short legs, so she was called "Chickie short legs." She laid good eggs, and her mistress loved her as if she had been her own child.
In the morning, the strange visitor was discovered, and the tom cat began to purr, and the
hen to cluck.
"What is that noise about?" said the old woman, looking round the room, but her sight was not very good; therefore, when she saw the duckling she thought it must be a fat duck, that had strayed from home.
"Oh what a prize!" she exclaimed, "I hope it is not a drake, for then I shall have some duck's eggs. I must wait and see."
So the duckling was allowed to remain on trial for three weeks, but there were no eggs. Now the tom cat was the master of the house, and the hen was mistress, and they always said, "We and the world," for they believed themselves to be half the world, and the better half too. The duckling thought that others might hold a different opinion on the subject, but the hen would not listen to such doubts.
"Can you lay eggs?" she asked.
"Then have the goodness to hold your tongue."
"Can you raise your back, or purr, or throw out sparks?" asked the tom cat.
"Then you have no right to express an opinion when sensible people are speaking."
So the duckling sat in a corner, feeling very low spirited, till the sunshine and the fresh air came into the room through the open door, and then he began to feel such a great longing for a swim on the water, that he could not help telling the hen.
"What an absurd idea," said the hen. "You have nothing else to do, therefore you have foolish fancies. If you could purr or lay eggs, they would pass away."
"But it is so delightful to swim about on the water," said the duckling, "and so *******ing to feel it close over your head, while
you dive down to the bottom."
"Delightful, indeed!" said the hen, "why you must be crazy! Ask the cat, he is the cleverest animal I know, ask him how he would like to swim about on the water, or to dive under it, for I will not speak of my own opinion; ask our mistress, the old woman- there is no one in the world more clever than she is. Do you think she would like to swim, or to let the water close over her head?"
"You don't understand me," said the duckling.
"We don't understand you? Who can understand you, I wonder? Do you consider yourself more clever than the cat, or the old woman? I will say nothing of myself. Don't imagine such nonsense, child, and thank your good fortune that you have been received here. Are you not in a warm room, and in society from which you may learn something. But you are a chatterer, and your company is not very agreeable. Believe me, I speak only for your own good. I may tell you unpleasant truths, but that is a proof of my friendship. I advise you, therefore, to lay eggs, and learn to purr as quickly as possible."
"I believe I must go out into the world again," said the duckling.
"Yes, do," said the hen.
So the duckling left the cottage, and soon found water on which it could swim and dive, but was avoided by all other animals, because of its ugly appearance. Autumn came, and the leaves in the forest turned to orange and gold. then, as winter approached, the wind caught them as they fell and whirled them in the cold air. The clouds, heavy with hail and snow-flakes, hung low in the sky, and the raven stood on the ferns crying, "Croak, croak." It made one shiver with cold to look at him. All this was very sad for the poor little duckling.
One evening, just as the sun set amid radiant clouds, there came a large flock of beautiful birds out of the bushes. The duckling had never seen any like them before. They were swans, and they curved their graceful necks, while their soft plumage shown with dazzling whiteness. They uttered a singular cry, as they spread their glorious wings and flew away from those cold regions to warmer countries across the sea. As they mounted higher and higher in the air, the ugly little duckling felt quite a strange sensation as he watched them. He whirled himself in the water like a wheel, stretched out his neck towards them, and uttered a cry so strange that it frightened himself. Could he ever forget those beautiful, happy birds; and when at last they were out of his sight, he dived under the water, and rose again almost beside himself with excitement. He knew not the names of these birds, nor where they had flown, but he felt towards them as he had never felt for any other bird in the world. He was not envious of these beautiful creatures, but wished to be as lovely as they. Poor ugly creature, how gladly he would have lived even with the ducks had they only given him encouragement.
The winter grew colder and colder; he was obliged to swim about on the water to keep it from freezing, but every night the space on which he swam became smaller and smaller. At length it froze so hard that the ice in the water crackled as he moved, and the duckling had to paddle with his legs as well as he could, to keep the space from closing up. He became exhausted at last, and lay still and helpless, frozen fast in the ice. Early in the morning, a peasant, who was passing by, saw what had happened. He broke the ice in pieces with his wooden shoe, and carried the duckling home to his wife. The warmth revived the poor little creature; but when the children wanted to play with him, the duckling thought they would do him some harm; so he started up in terror, fluttered into the milk-pan, and splashed the milk about the room. Then the woman clapped her hands, which frightened him still more. He flew first into the butter-cask, then into the meal-tub, and out again. What a condition he was in! The woman screamed, and struck at him with the tongs; the children laughed and screamed, and tumbled over each other, in their efforts to catch him; but luckily he escaped. The door stood open; the poor creature could just manage to slip out among the bushes, and lie down quite exhausted in the newly fallen snow.
It would be very sad, were I to relate all the misery and privations which the poor little duckling endured during the hard winter; but when it had passed, he found himself lying one morning in a moor, amongst the rushes. He felt the warm sun shining, and heard the lark singing, and saw that all around was beautiful spring. Then the young bird felt that his wings were strong, as he flapped them against his sides, and rose high into the air. They bore him onwards, until he found himself in a large garden, before he well knew how it had happened. The apple-trees were in full blossom, and the fragrant elders bent their long green branches down to the stream which wound round a smooth lawn. Everything looked beautiful, in the freshness of early spring. From a thicket close by came three beautiful white swans, rustling their feathers, and swimming lightly over the smooth water. The duckling remembered the lovely birds, and felt more strangely unhappy than ever.
"I will fly to those royal birds," he exclaimed, "and they will kill me, because I am so ugly, and dare to approach them; but it
does not matter: better be killed by them than pecked by the ducks, beaten by the hens, pushed about by the maiden who feeds the poultry, or starved with hunger in the winter."
Then he flew to the water, and swam towards the beautiful swans. The moment they espied the stranger, they rushed to meet him with outstretched wings.
"Kill me," said the poor bird; and he bent his head down to the surface of the water, and awaited death.
But what did he see in the clear stream below? His own image; no longer a dark, gray bird, ugly and disagreeable to look at, but a graceful and beautiful swan. To be born in a duck's nest, in a farmyard, is of no consequence to a bird, if it is hatched from a swan's egg. He now felt glad at having suffered sorrow and trouble, because it enabled him to enjoy so much better all the pleasure and happiness around him; for the great swans swam round the new-comer, and stroked his neck with their beaks, as a welcome.
Into the garden presently came some little children, and threw bread and cake into the water.
"See," cried the youngest, "there is a new one;" and the rest were delighted, and ran to their father and mother, dancing and clapping their hands, and shouting joyously, "There is another swan come; a new one has arrived."
Then they threw more bread and cake into the water, and said, "The new one is the most beautiful of all; he is so young and pretty."
And the old swans bowed their heads before him. Then he felt quite ashamed, and hid his head under his wing; for he did not know what to do, he was so happy, and yet not at all proud. He had been persecuted and despised for his ugliness, and now he heard them say he was the most beautiful of all the birds. Even the elder-tree bent down its bows into the water before him, and the sun shone warm and bright.
Then he rustled his feathers, curved his slender neck, and cried joyfully, from the depths of his heart, "I never dreamed of such happiness as this, while I was an ugly duckling."
|2009-05-13, 22:53||رقم المشاركة : 8|
merciiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii i اخي بومدين لن انسى لك هذا الفضل مارسي
|2009-05-25, 13:06||رقم المشاركة : 11|
عندي لك قصة ممتعة وجميلة
I have a good and beautiful story
the bear and the two travellers
Amro and Ziyd set out together on ajourney;and as they were travelling on foot and without any protection,they agreed that if any danger occured on the road,each would stand by the other .As they were going along,they saw a bear coming to wards them.Ziyd ran off,climbed up a tree and hid himself in the branches.And Amro threw himself flat on the gound and pretended to be dead;for he had heared that bears wouldn't touch a dead body.The bear came up,felt him all over with his snout and seeing no signs of life<< for the guy held his breath while the bear was snuffling at him>>,passed on and left him.When the other traveller saw that all the danger was over,came down from the tree and congratulated his friend on his cleverness.<<But tell me,what did the bear whisper in your ear? for he held his snout so close to your face that he seemed to be telling you some secret>>Ziyd said in joke .the other said <<never again travel with a friend who,promising to stand by me in time of danger,leaves me in the lurch when danger comes,thinking ofno one's safety but his own>>a
Therefore, this story teaches us to fulfill our promises made to others
|2009-09-18, 11:28||رقم المشاركة : 12|
Once there was a little mouse, who didn't have a name. He lived in a great big house, this mouse, the only mouse in the whole wide house. He day dreamed he had playmates who were friendly as could be. The little girls would bring their dolls, and dress up and have tea. The boys would play at cowboys or Eskimo or Spanish. But when he tried to touch them like a bubble they would vanish. Now through the years this little mouse had saved one special thing. A piece of cheese- the kind that makes an angel wants to sing. And so that night as he brushed his teeth and washed his tiny paws. He said my goodness no-one gives a gift to Santa Claus. So he ran to get his piece of cheese and after he had found it, Some paper from some chewing gum he quickly wrapped around it. And then he climbed in bed and dreamed that he was lifted high, And woke up to find that he was looking right in Santa's eye. Thank you for my gift he said now tell me what's your name, I haven't any said the mouse. You haven't that's a shame. You know I need a helper as I travel house to house. And I shall give a name to you, I'll call you Santa mouse. So here's your beard and here's your suit and here's each tiny shiny boot. You mustn't sneeze and you mustn't cough, Now put them on and we'll be off. Then over all the rooftops on a journey with no end, Away they went together, Santa and his tiny friend. And so this Christmas if you please, Beneath that tree that's in your house, Why don't you leave a piece of cheese, You know who'll thank you,
|انواع عرض الموضوع|
المشاركات المنشورة تعبر عن وجهة نظر صاحبها فقط، ولا تُعبّر بأي شكل من الأشكال عن وجهة نظر إدارة المنتدى
المنتدى غير مسؤول عن أي إتفاق تجاري بين الأعضاء... فعلى الجميع تحمّل المسؤولية
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