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5..MANUSCRIPTS
When Martin Eden returned to San Francisco, he began to write. He sent his works to
newspapers and magazines, but the editors sent his manuscripts back. Martine continued to write
and study at the same time. Martine slept five hours: only a man in very good health could work for
nineteen hours a day.
The weeks passed. All Martin’s money was spent and publishers continued to send his
manuscripts back. Martin sold his coat, then his watch.
One morning the postman brought him a short thin envelope. There was no manuscript in
that envelope, therefore, Martin thought they had taken the story. It was The Ring of the Bells. In
the letter the editor of a San Francisco magazine said that the story was good. They would pay the
author five dollars for it. And he would receive the check when the story was published.
Martin thought that five dollars for five thousand words was very little. After a few weeks
the story was published, but the check didn’t` arrive. Martin had waited for about a month before he
decided to go and get the five dollars from the editor.
He entered the office and said that he wanted to see Mr Ford – the editor. “I`m Martin
Eden,” Martin began the conversation. He wanted to ask for his five dollars, but it was his first
editor and he didn’t` t want to make a bad impression on him. To his surprise Mr Ford quickly
stood up with the words “You don` t say so!” and the next moment, with both hands was shaking
Martin`s hand.
6.WHY PEOPLE GET TATTOOS
The desire to be part of a group, to be accepted by one's friends or peers, can have a great
influence on what a person does. Sometimes, wearing a tattoo can be a sign that you belong to a
certain group. Gangs often use special clothes and tattoos to identify their particular group. For
example, in one gang all the members may wear green army jackets and have large 'Xs' tattooed on
their arms. It is not only gangs that have this type of special 'uniform'. Young people often belong to
a certain group of friends. For example,some wear only black clothes. Others wear tattoos. When a
person's friends are all doing something, such as getting a tattoo, that person is more likely to do the
same thing, and get a tattoo too.
The media is another big influence behind the popularity of tattoos in North America. A
wide variety of media images show tattoos. Famous sports heroes with tattoos are shown in
magazines. Fashion models are often seen in magazines and on TV wearing designer clothes that
show their bodies tattooed with detailed and colourful patterns. These media images link tattoos to
ideas of wealth, success, and status. As a result, many people decide to get a tattoo for its fashion
and status value.
It is not always the influence of other people or the media that results in a person getting a
tattoo. Many people decide to wear tattoos in order to express their artistic nature, their beliefs, or
their feelings - in other words, to show their individuality. A musician in a rock band may get a
tattoo of a guitar on the arm. Some environmentalists may tattoo pictures of endangered animals on
their shoulders. Lovers may tattoo each others' names over their hearts. A tattoo can be a public
sign to show what is important in a person's life.
7.SOUTH FOR THE WINTER
I never stay in one country for a long time. It gets boring. I like to move on, see new places,
and meet different people. It's a good life, most of the time. When I need money, I get a job. I can
do most things - hotel and restaurant work, building work, picking fruit.
I like to go south in the winter - Cyprus, or perhaps North Africa. Life is easier in the sun,
and Northern Europe can get very cold in the winter. Last year I was in Venice in October. I did
some work in a hotel for three weeks, then I began slowly to move south. I always go by train when
I can. I like trains. You can walk about on a train, and you meet a lot of people.
I left Venice and went on to Trieste. There I got a cheap ticket for the slow train to Sofia, in
Bulgaria. It takes a day and a half, but the express was too expensive.
The train left Trieste at nine o'clock on a Thursday morning. There weren't many people on
it at first, but at Zagreb more people got on. Two girls went along the corridor, past my
compartment. They looked through the door, but they didn't come in. The train left Zagreb and I
looked out of the window for about ten minutes, then I went to sleep.
When I opened my eyes again, the two girls were in the compartment.
'Hi!' they said.
'You're American,' I said. 'Or Canadian. Right?'
'American,' the taller girl said. She smiled. 'And you're twenty-three, your name is Tom
Walsh, you've got blue eyes, and your mum lives in Burnham-on-Sea, UK. Right?
'How did you know all that?' I asked.