V. Retell the text on the part of 1) uncle Octavian, 2) one of the guests
TEXT 13. CAGED
L.E. Reeve
Purcell was a small, fussy
1
man; red
cheeks and a tight melonlike stomach. Large
glasses so magnified his eyes as to give him
the appearance of a wise and kind owl.
He owned a pet shop. He sold cats and
dogs and monkeys; he dealt in fish food and
bird seed, prescribed remedies for ailing
canaries, on his shelves there were long rows
of cages. He considered himself something of
a professional man.
There was a constant stir of life in his shop. The customers who
came in said:
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"Aren't they cute
2
! Look at that little monkey! They're sweet."
And Mr. Purcell himself would smile and rub his hands and nod
his head.
Each morning, when the routine of opening his shop was
completed, it was the proprietor's custom to perch on a high stool,
behind the counter, unfold his morning paper, and digest the day's
news.
It was a raw, wintry day. Wind gusted against the high,
plateglass windows. Having completed his usual tasks, Mr. Purcell
again mounted the high stool and unfolded his morning paper. He
adjusted his glasses, and glanced at the day's headlines.
There was a bell over the door that rang whenever a customer
entered. This morning, however, for the first time Mr. Purcell could
recall, it failed to ring. Simply he glanced up, and there was the
stranger, standing just inside the door, as if he had materialized out of
thin air.
The storekeeper slid off his stool. From the first instant he knew
instinctively, that the man hated him; but out of habit he rubbed his
hands, smiled and nodded.
"Good morning," he beamed. "What can I do for you?"
The man's shiny shoes squeaked forward. His suit was cheap, ill-
fitting, but obviously new. Ignoring Purcell for the moment, he looked
around the shadowy shop.
"A nasty morning," volunteered the shopkeeper. He clasped both
hands across his melonlike stomach, and smiled importantly. Now
what was it you wanted?"
The man stared closely at Purcell, as though just now he became
aware of his presence. He said, "I want something in a cage”.
"Something in a cage?" Mr. Purcell was a bit confused.
"You mean—some sort of pet?" "I mean what I said!" snapped
3
the man. "Something in a cage. Something alive that's in a cage."
“I see," hastened the storekeeper, not at all certain what he did.
"Now let me think. A white rat, perhaps? I have some very nice white
rats."
"No!" said the man. "Not rats. Something with wings. Something
that flies."
"A bird!" exclaimed Mr. Purcell.
"A bird's all right." The customer pointed suddenly to a cage
which contained two snowy birds. "Doves?
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How much for those?"
"Five-fifty," came the prompt answer. "And a very reasonable
price. They are a fine pair."
“Five-fifty?" The man was obviously disappointed.
He produced a five-dollar bill. "I'd like to have those birds. But
this is all I've got. Just five dollars." Mentally, Mr. Purcell made a quick
calculation, which him that at a fifty cent reduction he could still reap
tidy profit. He smiled kindly: "My dear man, if you want them that
badly, you can certainly have them for five dollars."
"I'll take them." He laid his five dollars on the counter. Mr. Purcell
unhooked the cage and handed it to his customer. "That noise!" The
man said suddenly: "Doesn't it get on your nerves?"
"Noise? What noise?" Mr. Purcell looked surprised. He could hear
nothing unusual.
"Listen." The staring eyes came closer. "How long d'you think it
took me to make that five dollars?"
The merchant wanted to order him out of the shop. But oddly
enough, he couldn't. He heard himself asking, "Why—why, how long did it
take you?"
The other laughed. "Ten years! At hard labor
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. Took years to earn five
dollars. Fifty cents a year."
It was best, Purcell decided, to humor him. "My, my! Ten years. That's
certainly a long time. Now—"
"They give you five dollars," laughed the man, "and a cheap suit, and
tell you not to get caught again."
The man swung around, and stalked abruptly from the store.
Purcell sighed with sudden relief. He walked to the window and
stared out. Just outside, his peculiar customer had stopped. He was holding
the cage shoulder-high, staring at his purchase. Then, opening the cage, he
reached inside and drew out one of the doves. He tossed it into the air. He
drew out the second and tossed it after the first. They rose like balls and
were lost in the smoky gray of the wintry city. For an instant the
liberator's silent gaze watched them. Then he dropped the cage and walked
away.
The merchant was perplexed. So desperately had the man desired the
doves that he had let him have them at a reduced price. And immediately
he had turned them loose. "Now why," Mr. Purcell muttered, "did I do that?"
He felt vaguely insulted.
NOTES:
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1
fussy — суетливый
2
cute — очаровательный
3
snap — огрызнуться
4
at hard labor — зд. на каторге
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