IV. Discuss the following.
1.
Was Mr. Oslow a talented writer? Why were his novels rejected? Why
was his rejected novel published under his wife's name and had a
success?
2.
Mr. Oslow was not a selfish man. Fame wasn't his only aim. What
about Julia?
3.
Is genuine talent always recognised? Who has a right to judge real
talent?
4.
What scene do you think will follow Clifford's last words?
V. Retell the story on the part of 1) Clifford, 2) his wife, 3) one of the
reporters.
TEXT 16. THE VERGER
1
W. S. Maugham
There had been a wedding that afternoon at St.
Peter's Church, and Edward Foreman still wore his
verger's gown. He had been verger for 16 years and liked
his job. The verger was waiting for the vicar. The vicar had
just been appointed. He was a red-faced energetic man and the verger
disliked him. Soon the vicar came in and said: "Foreman, I've got
something unpleasant to say to you. You have been here a great many
years and I think you've fulfilled your duties quite satisfactorily here;
but I found out a most striking thing the other day. I discovered to my
astonishment that you could neither read nor write. I think you must
learn, Foreman."
"I'm afraid I can't now, sir. I'm too old a dog to learn new tricks."
"In that case, Foreman, I'm afraid you must go."
"Yes, sir, I quite understand. I shall be happy to hand in my
resignation as soon as you have found somebody to take my place."
Up to now Edward's face hadn't shown any signs of emotion. But
when he had closed the door of the church behind him his lips trembled.
He walked slowly with a heavy heart. He didn't know what to do with
himself. True, he had saved a small sum of money but it was not
enough to live on without doing something, and life cost more and more
every year.
52
It occurred to him now that a cigarette would comfort him and
since he was not a smoker and never had any in his pockets he looked
for a shop where he could buy a packet of good cigarettes. It was a long
street with all sorts of shops in it but there was not a single one where you
could buy cigarettes.
"That's strange," said Edward. "I can't be the only man who walks
along the street and wants to have a smoke," he thought. An idea struck
him. Why shouldn't he open a little shop there? "Tobacco and Sweets."
"That's an idea," he said. "It is strange how things come to you when you
least expect it."
He turned, walked home and had his tea.
"You are very silent this afternoon, Edward," his wife remarked.
"I'm thinking," he said. He thought the matter over from every point
of view and the next day he went to look for a suitable shop. And within a
week the shop was opened and Edward was behind the counter selling
cigarettes.
Edward Foreman did very well. Soon he decided that he might open
another shop and employ a manager. He looked for another long street
that didn't have a tobacconist's in it and opened another shop. This was a
success too. In the course of ten years he acquired no less than ten shops
and was making a lot of money. Every Monday he went to all his shops,
collected the week's takings and took them to the bank.
One morning the bank manager said that he wanted to talk to him.
"Mr. Foreman, do you know how much money you have got in the
bank?"
"Well, I have a rough idea."
"You have 30 thousand dollars and it's a large sum. You should invest
it." We shall make you out a list of securities
2
which will bring you a better
rate of interest
3
than the bank can give you."
There was a troubled look on Mr. Foreman's face. "And what will I
have to do?"
"Oh, you needn't worry," the banker smiled. "All you have to do is to
read and to sign the papers."
"That's the trouble, sir. I can sign my name but I can't read." The
manager was so surprised that he jumped up from his seat. He couldn't
believe his ears.
"Good God, man, what would you be if you had been able to read?!"
"I can tell you that, sir," said Mr. Foreman. "I would be verger of St.
Peter's church."
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