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Đề ti: học tiếng anh qua truyện cổ tch

  1. #1
    Tham gia ngy
    Aug 2007
    Bi gửi
    2,680
    Cm ơn
    785
    Được cm ơn 1,485 lần

    Mặc định học tiếng anh qua truyện cổ tch

    hi vọng chng ta sẽ cng nhau nng cu vốn từ vựng qua cch học mới ny , boo cng mọi người post những cu chuyện thật hay nh


  2. #2
    Tham gia ngy
    Aug 2007
    Bi gửi
    2,680
    Cm ơn
    785
    Được cm ơn 1,485 lần

    Mặc định The Little Mermaid

    Fathoms below the ocean's surface, in King Triton's kingdom, the sea was bubbling with excitement. All the merfolk and mackerel, sardine and salmon, swordfish and snappers swam as fast as their fins would carry them.

    No one wanted to miss a single note of the special concert in King Triton's glittering palace.

    They gathered in the great hall just as the sea horse announced the arrival of His Royal Highness King Triton. The court composer, Sebastian, tapped his baton and signaled the start of the music.

    Six of King Triton's beautiful daughters began to sing as they swirled around the stage. There were Aquata, Andrina, Arista, Attina, Adella, and Alana.

    After they had introduced themselves, they turned to present their youngest sister for her musical solo.

    All eyes turned to the giant oyster shell center stage. But when it opened, the star of Sebastian's show was missing!

    "Ariel!" King Triton bellowed.



    But the Little Mermaid didn't hear her father calling her. In fact, she had forgotten about the concert altogether. She had discovered a sunken ship, and couldn't wait to explore it for human treasures to add to her collection. "Isn't it fantastic?" Ariel exclaimed.

    "Hurry up, Flounder!"

    Ariel and Flounder began to swim through the shadowy ship.

    "Have you ever seen anything so wonderful in your entire life?" Ariel gasped, finding a shiny silver fork on the floor.

    "Yeah, it's great," Flounder answered nervously. "Now let's get out of here."

    "Oh, Flounder," Ariel teased. "Don't be such a guppy."

    But no sooner had she spoken than a loud CRUNCH sounded behind them. "Did you hear something?" Flounder asked nervously. He turned to find himself staring into the biggest, meanest, sharpest teeth he had ever seen.

    "A shark! Swim!" the little fish cried.

    The shark was only inches behind them when Ariel had an idea. She and Flounder squeezed through a hole in an old anchor, and the shark followed. Just as the clever little mermaid had planned, their enemy was too big to fit and got stuck.

    "Hah!" bragged Flounder, wiggling his fins in the shark's face. "Take that, you big bully!"





    "As a result of your careless behavior, the entire celebration was ruined," Triton scolded his youngest daughter.

    "You went up to the surface again, didn't you?"

    "I'm sixteen years old. I'm not a child!" Ariel protested. But it was no use. The King was furious. "As long as you live under my ocean, you'll obey my rules," he said, waving his mighty trident. "You are never to go to the surface again!"

    Ariel swam away in tears.

    "You don't think I was too hard on her, do you, Sebastian?" Triton sighed. He loved his daughter very much and hated to see her unhappy.

    "Oh course not," Sebastian said, with a click of his claw.

    "Teenagers! Give them an inch and they swim all over you! She needs constant supervision." His Majesty couldn't have agreed more--and appointed Sebastian to keep an eye on the headstrong princess.

    Sebastian followed Ariel back to her secret grotto--and he couldn't believe what he saw inside.

    The sunlight streaming down from the ocean's surface illuminated Ariel's amazing collection of human treasures. Up above, humans walked and skipped and ran and danced. How she wished she could be part of that world!

    The Little Mermaid was daydreaming about having feet instead of fins when a ship sailed over her grotto. She swam to the surface to get a better look.

    On board the ship, as part of a birthday celebration for Prince Eric, his faithful guardian, Sir Grimsby, was unveiling an enormous statue of the dashing prince.

    As an embarrassed Eric looked at the statue, Ariel looked at Eric. "He's very handsome, isn't he?" she asked Scuttle.



    Suddenly a burst of lightning startled the ship's crew to attention. "Hurricane a-comin'!" one of the sailors shouted.

    The men began tugging with all their might on the ropes and chains, trying to secure the masts and sails.

    But the winds were too strong and the waves too powerful. The ship crashed into the jagged rocks, and Prince Eric was swept into the sea and knocked unconscious. Ariel dove after the Prince, summoning her strength to pull him to the safety of the nearby shore.

    "Is he dead?" she asked Scuttle sadly.

    He placed his head against Eric's foot and listened hard. "I can't make out a heartbeat," the seagull replied. Moved by the handsome prince, Ariel sang to him sweetly. At the sound of her lovely voice, Eric's eyes fluttered open. Ariel dove back into the sea and watched from a distance as Sir Grimsby helped him back to the palace.

    "We're gonna forget this whole thing ever happened," Sebastian insisted.

    But Ariel couldn't forget her handsome prince, vowing to return to him someday.








    Học tiếng Anh chất lượng cao

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  3. Thnh vin sau cm ơn monokuro boo v bi viết hữu ch

    ann_cullen (02-01-2010)

  4. #3
    Tham gia ngy
    Aug 2007
    Bi gửi
    2,680
    Cm ơn
    785
    Được cm ơn 1,485 lần

    Mặc định 101 Dalmatians ( 101 ch ch đốm )

    Pongo, Perdita, and their fifteen puppies lived in a cozy little house in London. The house belonged to their humans, Roger and Anita. They were perfectly happy until they met Cruella De Vil -- Anita's old schoolmate who simply loved spotted puppies.



    She wanted to buy them all and make them into spotted fur coats! Roger put his foot down. "These puppies are not for sale and that's final." Cruella was furious but she refused to give up. One night Cruella's two nasty henchmen, Horace and Jasper, kidnapped the puppies! Then they drove out to Cruella's old country estate and waited to hear from their boss. When the puppies got there, they saw lots and lots of other Dalmatian puppies who had also been snatched by Horace and Jasper. Back at home, Pongo and Perdita could not believe what had happened. Perdita knew at once that Cruella was behind her missing puppies. "She has stolen them," sobbed Perdita. "Oh, Pongo, do you think we'll ever find them?" Pongo knew that the Twilight Bark was their only hope. He would bark his message to the dogs in London.








    They would pick it up and pass it along to the dogs in the country. And maybe someone would find the puppies. That night the Twilight Bark reached a quiet farm where an old English sheepdog known as Colonel lay sleeping peacefully. "Alert, alert!" shouted Sergeant Tibs, a cat who lived on the farm. "Vital message coming in from London."


    The Colonel listened closely. "Fifteen puppies have been stolen!" he cried. Sergeant Tibs remembered hearing barking at the old De Vil place. They headed straight for the gloomy mansion. The Colonel helped Tibs look through the window. Sure enough, there were the fifteen puppies -- plus their eighty-four new friends!




    Tibs and the Colonel overheard Cruella, Jasper, and Horace talking. When they heard her plans to make coats out of the puppies, they knew there was no time to waste. The Colonel ran off to get word to Pongo and Perdita while Tibs helped the puppies to escape! As soon as Horace and Jasper realized what was happening, they tried to stop the puppies. But it was too late.



    Pongo and Perdita arrived and fought off the foolish thugs as the puppies hurried to safety. Once all the dogs were safely out of the house, they




    thanked the Colonel and Tibs and went on their way. A black Labrador retriever arranged for them to ride to London in the back of a moving van that was being repaired. The dogs waited in a blacksmith's shop. Suddenly Cruella's big car drove up the street. She had followed their tracks and was parked and waiting. But Pongo had a clever idea. There were ashes in the fireplace. If they all rolled in them, they would be disguised in black soot. Then they could get aboard the van without Cruella realizing it was them! And that's just what they did. It worked perfectly until a glob of snow dripped onto a puppy and washed off a patch of soot. From her car, Cruella could see it was a Dalmatian puppy. "They're escaping!" she cried as the van took off.









    There was a really scary chase. Cruella tried to pass the van on the road, but she ended up crashing through a barricade and driving right into a huge pile of snow. Cruella's beautiful car was a wreck! And that wasn't all.





    She had lost the puppies! Cruella threw a tantrum. Pongo and Perdita and 99 puppies arrived home safely, much to Roger and Anita's delight. Roger pulled out a handkerchief and wiped Pongo's face clean. "What will we do with all these puppies?" Anita asked.




    "We'll keep them," Roger answered. He sat down at the piano and composed a song right on the spot. "We'll buy a big place in the country, and we'll have a plantation," he sang. "A Dalmatian plantation!" And that's exactly what they did.

    Sửa l̀n cúi bởi monokuro boo : 30-12-2007 lúc 08:01 AM

    Thi thử TOEIC miễn ph tại TiengAnh.com.vn

    Thi thử TOEIC của TiengAnh.com.vn

    Thi thử như thi thật, đề thi st đề thật

    Trắc nghiệm tiếng Anh

    www.LuyenTiengAnh.com

    Tổng hợp 1000+ bi trắc nghiệm tiếng Anh


  5. #4
    Tham gia ngy
    Aug 2007
    Bi gửi
    2,680
    Cm ơn
    785
    Được cm ơn 1,485 lần

    Mặc định

    mong mọi người cho ý kiến để boo khắc phục
    mọi người hãy post cùng boo nhé

    Học Tiếng Anh Giao tiếp

    www.TiengAnhGiaoTiep.com

    Học Tiếng Anh Giao tiếp miễn ph

    n thi TOEIC miễn ph

    www.OnThiTOEIC.vn

    n thi TOEIC trực tuyến miễn ph


  6. #5
    Avatar của reddevil89
    reddevil89 vẫn chưa có mặt trong diễn đ n Phụ trch chuyn mục Kỳ thi IELTS-
    Phụ trch chuyn mục Kỹ năng Viết
    Từng Phụ trch chuyn mục Kỳ thi TOEFL
    Tham gia ngy
    Jan 2007
    Bi gửi
    1,444
    Cm ơn
    201
    Được cm ơn 2,317 lần

    Mặc định

    hồi bé thích đọc chuyện cổ tích thì ... tiếng Anh kém
    giờ lớn rồi tiếng Anh đọc được rồi thì ko thích chuyện cổ tích nữa, hihi, với lại rồi xưa đọc nhiều chuyện cổ tích giờ thấy chuyện nào cũng quen quen
    dù sao cũng cám ơn boo, mấy chuyện trên đọc lại cũng thấy hay hay , lại có hình nữa

    Học tiếng Anh online thu ph

    www.TruongNgoaiNgu.com.vn

    Học tiếng Anh online hiệu quả


  7. #6
    Tham gia ngy
    Aug 2007
    Bi gửi
    2,680
    Cm ơn
    785
    Được cm ơn 1,485 lần

    Mặc định

    ôi , thanks red , uhm , sao giờ ta , chẳng bít sao nửa
    ôi , sao và trăng


  8. #7
    Tham gia ngy
    Nov 2007
    Nơi cư ngụ
    Nowhere
    Bi gửi
    573
    Cm ơn
    581
    Được cm ơn 592 lần

    Thumbs up The little match girl-C b bn dim (By Andersen)

    THE LITTLE MATCH GIRL


    Most terribly cold it was; it snowed, and was nearly
    quite dark, and evening the last evening of the year. In
    this cold and darkness there went along the street a poor
    little girl, bareheaded, and with naked feet. When she left
    home she had slippers on, it is true; but what was the good
    of that? They were very large slippers, which her mother
    had hitherto worn; so large were they; and the poor little

    thing lost them as she scuffled away across the street,
    because of two carriages that rolled by dreadfully fast.

    One slipper was nowhere to be found; the other had
    been laid hold of by an urchin, and off he ran with it; he
    thought it would do capitally for a cradle when he some
    day or other should have children himself. So the little
    maiden walked on with her tiny naked feet, that were
    quite red and blue from cold. She carried a quantity of
    matches in an old apron, and she held a bundle of them in
    her hand. Nobody had bought anything of her the whole
    livelong day; no one had given her a single farthing.

    She crept along trembling with cold and hungera
    very picture of sorrow, the poor little thing!

    The flakes of snow covered her long fair hair, which
    fell in beautiful curls around her neck; but of that, of
    course, she never once now thought. From all the
    windows the candles were gleaming, and it smelt so
    deliciously of roast goose, for you know it was New
    Years Eve; yes, of that she thought.

    In a corner formed by two houses, of which one
    advanced more than the other, she seated herself down
    and cowered together. Her little feet she had drawn close
    up to her, but she grew colder and colder, and to go home
    she did not venture, for she had not sold any matches and
    could not bring a farthing of money: from her father she
    would certainly get blows, and at home it was cold too,
    for above her she had only the roof, through which the
    wind whistled, even though the largest cracks were
    stopped up with straw and rags.

    Her little hands were almost numbed with cold. Oh! a
    match might afford her a world of comfort, if she only
    dared take a single one out of the bundle, draw it against
    the wall, and warm her fingers by it. She drew one out.
    Rischt! how it blazed, how it burnt! It was a warm,
    bright flame, like a candle, as she held her hands over it: it
    was a wonderful light. It seemed really to the little maiden
    as though she were sitting before a large iron stove, with
    burnished brass feet and a brass ornament at top. The fire
    burned with such blessed influence; it warmed so
    delightfully. The little girl had already stretched out her
    feet to warm them too; butthe small flame went out,
    the stove vanished: she had only the remains of the burntout
    match in her hand.

    She rubbed another against the wall: it burned brightly,
    and where the light fell on the wall, there the wall became
    transparent like a veil, so that she could see into the room.
    On the table was spread a snow-white tablecloth; upon it
    was a splendid porcelain service, and the roast goose was
    steaming famously with its stuffing of apple and dried
    plums. And what was still more capital to behold was, the
    goose hopped down from the dish, reeled about on the
    floor with knife and fork in its breast, till it came up to the
    poor little girl; whenthe match went out and nothing
    but the thick, cold, damp wall was left behind. She lighted
    another match. Now there she was sitting under the most
    magnificent Christmas tree: it was still larger, and more
    decorated than the one which she had seen through the
    glass door in the rich merchants house.

    Thousands of lights were burning on the green
    branches, and gaily-colored pictures, such as she had seen
    in the shop-windows, looked down upon her. The little
    maiden stretched out her hands towards them whenthe
    match went out. The lights of the Christmas tree rose
    higher and higher, she saw them now as stars in heaven;
    one fell down and formed a long trail of fire.

    Someone is just dead! said the little girl; for her old
    grandmother, the only person who had loved her, and
    who was now no more, had told her, that when a star falls,
    a soul ascends to God.

    She drew another match against the wall: it was again
    light, and in the lustre there stood the old grandmother, so
    bright and radiant, so mild, and with such an expression of
    love.

    Grandmother! cried the little one. Oh, take me with
    you! You go away when the match burns out; you vanish
    like the warm stove, like the delicious roast goose, and like
    the magnificent Christmas tree! And she rubbed the
    whole bundle of matches quickly against the wall, for she
    wanted to be quite sure of keeping her grandmother near
    her. And the matches gave such a brilliant light that it was
    brighter than at noon-day: never formerly had the
    grandmother been so beautiful and so tall. She took the
    little maiden, on her arm, and both flew in brightness and
    in joy so high, so very high, and then above was neither
    cold, nor hunger, nor anxietythey were with God.

    But in the corner, at the cold hour of dawn, sat the
    poor girl, with rosy cheeks and with a smiling mouth,
    leaning against the wallfrozen to death on the last
    evening of the old year. Stiff and stark sat the child there
    with her matches, of which one bundle had been burnt.
    She wanted to warm herself, people said. No one had the
    slightest suspicion of what beautiful things she had seen;
    no one even dreamed of the splendor in which, with her
    grandmother she had entered on the joys of a new year.


    this is a sad fairy tale...


  9. 2 thnh vin cm ơn ga_cut_chan v bi viết hữu ch

    ann_cullen (02-01-2010),monokuro boo (31-12-2007)

  10. #8
    Tham gia ngy
    Nov 2007
    Nơi cư ngụ
    Nowhere
    Bi gửi
    573
    Cm ơn
    581
    Được cm ơn 592 lần

    Cool THE EMPERORS NEW CLOTHES-Bộ quần o mới của hong đế.

    THE EMPEROR’S NEW
    CLOTHES (By Andersen)

    Part I:

    Many years ago, there was an Emperor, who was so
    excessively fond of new clothes, that he spent all his
    money in dress. He did not trouble himself in the least
    about his soldiers; nor did he care to go either to the
    theatre or the chase, except for the opportunities then
    afforded him for displaying his new clothes. He had a
    different suit for each hour of the day; and as of any other
    king or emperor, one is accustomed to say, ‘he is sitting in
    council,’ it was always said of him, ‘The Emperor is sitting
    in his wardrobe.’

    Time passed merrily in the large town which was his
    capital; strangers arrived every day at the court. One day,
    two rogues, calling themselves weavers, made their
    appearance. They gave out that they knew how to weave
    stuffs of the most beautiful colors and elaborate patterns,
    the clothes manufactured from which should have the
    wonderful property of remaining invisible to everyone
    who was unfit for the office he held, or who was
    extraordinarily simple in character.

    ‘These must, indeed, be splendid clothes!’ thought the
    Emperor. ‘Had I such a suit, I might at once find out what
    men in my realms are unfit for their office, and also be
    able to distinguish the wise from the foolish! This stuff
    must be woven for me immediately.’ And he caused large
    sums of money to be given to both the weavers in order
    that they might begin their work directly.

    So the two pretended weavers set up two looms, and
    affected to work very busily, though in reality they did
    nothing at all. They asked for the most delicate silk and
    the purest gold thread; put both into their own knapsacks;
    and then continued their pretended work at the empty
    looms until late at night.

    ‘I should like to know how the weavers are getting on
    with my cloth,’ said the Emperor to himself, after some
    little time had elapsed; he was, however, rather
    embarrassed, when he remembered that a simpleton, or
    one unfit for his office, would be unable to see the
    manufacture. To be sure, he thought he had nothing to
    risk in his own person; but yet, he would prefer sending
    somebody else, to bring him intelligence about the
    weavers, and their work, before he troubled himself in the
    affair. All the people throughout the city had heard of the
    wonderful property the cloth was to possess; and all were
    anxious to learn how wise, or how ignorant, their
    neighbors might prove to be.

    ‘I will send my faithful old minister to the weavers,’
    said the Emperor at last, after some deliberation, ‘he will
    be best able to see how the cloth looks; for he is a man of
    sense, and no one can be more suitable for his office than
    be is.’

    So the faithful old minister went into the hall, where
    the knaves were working with all their might, at their
    empty looms. ‘What can be the meaning of this?’ thought
    the old man, opening his eyes very wide. ‘I cannot
    discover the least bit of thread on the looms.’ However,
    he did not express his thoughts aloud.

    The impostors requested him very courteously to be so
    good as to come nearer their looms; and then asked him
    whether the design pleased him, and whether the colors
    were not very beautiful; at the same time pointing to the
    empty frames. The poor old minister looked and looked,
    he could not discover anything on the looms, for a very
    good reason, viz: there was nothing there. ‘What!’ thought
    he again. ‘Is it possible that I am a simpleton? I have never
    thought so myself; and no one must know it now if I am
    so. Can it be, that I am unfit for my office? No, that must
    not be said either. I will never confess that I could not see
    the stuff.’

    ‘Well, Sir Minister!’ said one of the knaves, still
    pretending to work. ‘You do not say whether the stuff
    pleases you.’

    ‘Oh, it is excellent!’ replied the old minister, looking at
    the loom through his spectacles. ‘This pattern, and the
    colors, yes, I will tell the Emperor without delay, how
    very beautiful I think them.’

    ‘We shall be much obliged to you,’ said the impostors,
    and then they named the different colors and described the
    pattern of the pretended stuff. The old minister listened
    attentively to their words, in order that he might repeat
    them to the Emperor; and then the knaves asked for more
    silk and gold, saying that it was necessary to complete
    what they had begun. However, they put all that was
    given them into their knapsacks; and continued to work
    with as much apparent diligence as before at their empty
    looms.

    The Emperor now sent another officer of his court to
    see how the men were getting on, and to ascertain
    whether the cloth would soon be ready. It was just the
    same with this gentleman as with the minister; he surveyed
    the looms on all sides, but could see nothing at all but the
    empty frames.

    ‘Does not the stuff appear as beautiful to you, as it did
    to my lord the minister?’ asked the impostors of the
    Emperor’s second ambassador; at the same time making
    the same gestures as before, and talking of the design and
    colors which were not there.

    ‘I certainly am not stupid!’ thought the messenger. ‘It
    must be, that I am not fit for my good, profitable office!
    That is very odd; however, no one shall know anything
    about it.’ And accordingly he praised the stuff he could
    not see, and declared that he was delighted with both
    colors and patterns. ‘Indeed, please your Imperial Majesty,’
    said he to his sovereign when he returned, ‘the cloth
    which the weavers are preparing is extraordinarily
    magnificent.’

    The whole city was talking of the splendid cloth which
    the Emperor had ordered to be woven at his own
    expense.

    And now the Emperor himself wished to see the costly
    manufacture, while it was still in the loom. Accompanied
    by a select number of officers of the court, among whom
    were the two honest men who had already admired the
    cloth, he went to the crafty impostors, who, as soon as
    they were aware of the Emperor’s approach, went on
    working more diligently than ever; although they still did
    not pass a single thread through the looms.

    ‘Is not the work absolutely magnificent?’ said the two
    officers of the crown, already mentioned. ‘If your Majesty
    will only be pleased to look at it! What a splendid design!
    What glorious colors!’ and at the same time they pointed
    to the empty frames; for they imagined that everyone else
    could see this exquisite piece of workmanship.

    ‘How is this?’ said the Emperor to himself. ‘I can see
    nothing! This is indeed a terrible affair! Am I a simpleton,
    or am I unfit to be an Emperor? That would be the worst
    thing that could happen—Oh! the cloth is charming,’ said
    he, aloud. ‘It has my complete approbation.’ And he
    smiled most graciously, and looked closely at the empty
    looms; for on no account would he say that he could not
    see what two of the officers of his court had praised so
    much. All his retinue now strained their eyes, hoping to
    discover something on the looms, but they could see no
    more than the others; nevertheless, they all exclaimed,
    ‘Oh, how beautiful!’ and advised his majesty to have some
    new clothes made from this splendid material, for the
    approaching procession. ‘Magnificent! Charming!
    Excellent!’ resounded on all sides; and everyone was
    uncommonly gay. The Emperor shared in the general
    satisfaction; and presented the impostors with the riband of
    an order of knighthood, to be worn in their button-holes,
    and the title of ‘Gentlemen Weavers.’

    The rogues sat up the whole of the night before the
    day on which the procession was to take place, and had
    sixteen lights burning, so that everyone might see how
    anxious they were to finish the Emperor’s new suit. They
    pretended to roll the cloth off the looms; cut the air with
    their scissors; and sewed with needles without any thread
    in them. ‘See!’ cried they, at last. ‘The Emperor’s new
    clothes are ready!’

    And now the Emperor, with all the grandees of his
    court, came to the weavers; and the rogues raised their
    arms, as if in the act of holding something up, saying,
    ‘Here are your Majesty’s trousers! Here is the scarf! Here is
    the mantle! The whole suit is as light as a cobweb; one
    might fancy one has nothing at all on, when dressed in it;
    that, however, is the great virtue of this delicate cloth.’

    ‘Yes indeed!’ said all the courtiers, although not one of
    them could see anything of this exquisite manufacture.
    ‘If your Imperial Majesty will be graciously pleased to
    take off your clothes, we will fit on the new suit, in front
    of the looking glass.’

    The Emperor was accordingly undressed, and the
    rogues pretended to array him in his new suit; the
    Emperor turning round, from side to side, before the
    looking glass.

    ‘How splendid his Majesty looks in his new clothes,
    and how well they fit!’ everyone cried out. ‘What a
    design! What colors! These are indeed royal robes!’
    ‘The canopy which is to be borne over your Majesty,
    in the procession, is waiting,’ announced the chief master
    of the ceremonies.

    ‘I am quite ready,’ answered the Emperor. ‘Do my new
    clothes fit well?’ asked he, turning himself round again
    before the looking glass, in order that he might appear to
    be examining his handsome suit.


    Excellent!
    Sửa l̀n cúi bởi ga_cut_chan : 31-12-2007 lúc 01:28 PM


  11. #9
    Tham gia ngy
    Nov 2007
    Nơi cư ngụ
    Nowhere
    Bi gửi
    573
    Cm ơn
    581
    Được cm ơn 592 lần

    Cool

    Part II:

    The lords of the bedchamber, who were to carry his
    Majestys train felt about on the ground, as if they were
    lifting up the ends of the mantle; and pretended to be
    carrying something; for they would by no means betray
    anything like simplicity, or unfitness for their office.

    So now the Emperor walked under his high canopy in
    the midst of the procession, through the streets of his
    capital; and all the people standing by, and those at the
    windows, cried out, Oh! How beautiful are our
    Emperors new clothes! What a magnificent train there is
    to the mantle; and how gracefully the scarf hangs! in
    short, no one would allow that he could not see these
    much-admired clothes; because, in doing so, he would
    have declared himself either a simpleton or unfit for his
    office. Certainly, none of the Emperors various suits, had
    ever made so great an impression, as these invisible ones.

    But the Emperor has nothing at all on! said a little
    child.

    Listen to the voice of innocence! exclaimed his father;
    and what the child had said was whispered from one to
    another.

    But he has nothing at all on! at last cried out all the
    people. The Emperor was vexed, for he knew that the
    people were right; but he thought the procession must go
    on now! And the lords of the bedchamber took greater
    pains than ever, to appear holding up a train, although, in
    reality, there was no train to hold.



  12. Thnh vin sau cm ơn ga_cut_chan v bi viết hữu ch

    monokuro boo (27-01-2008)

  13. #10
    Tham gia ngy
    Dec 2006
    Bi gửi
    18
    Cm ơn
    9
    Được cm ơn 11 lần

    Mặc định học tiếng anh qua truyện cổ tch

    Brementown Musicians Bed Time Story / Fairy Tale

    Once upon a time in a village so small that you can't even find it on a map there was a small farmhouse standing on the corner of a hay field. If you looked very carefully and squinted your eyes just a bit you would see that right next door to the house there was a wooden stable even tinier than the tiniest house. In the stable there lived a donkey named Chanter.

    Chanter had worked very hard and for many years. One day the farmer said to him that he should travel and see the world before the very sad day his eyes would close forever. The farmer patted him on his back, gave him a bag of corn, and wished him good luck.

    Chanter smiled and said goodbye to the farmer and began walking along the dusty road. He was walking toward the famous city of Bremen where all of the finest musicians in the world lived. He thought he would become singer.

    Chanter walked along the road for more than an hour. Suddenly a howl came up from the ground. He hadn't been looking where he was walking and had stepped right on the paws of dog! The dog jumped up as fast as an old dog can jump. They looked at each other and Chanter quickly apologized for stepping on the dog's paw, as his hooves were quite large, much larger than paws.


    The old dog began to calm down and introduced himself as Anciano.
    They became friends and since Anciano was a baritone they decided to sing together and off they went to Bremen.

    Later they came upon a strange mass of fur in the middle of the road. Anciano let out a growl and the ball of fur flew off the ground. Chanter dropped his bag of corn. But instead of corn, to everyone's amazement a dozen mice ran from the sack. Things looked quite a mess. Someone was crying. It was a very old fat cat. The mice had all gone. She looked up at Chanter and Anciano and purred out her name: it was Songe.


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