Oxford phrasal verbs dictionary for learners of english

#Oxford phrasal verbs dictionary for learners of english cracked#

Wham!вЂ™ But the best of all, recalled Grigsby, there was the time they smashed a factory that was still trying to turn out aeroplanes. вЂAnd Bill Henderson, he got to bash the engine.

'Do I remember that, Tom? Do I _remember? _Why, I got smash the front window, you hear? My God, it made a lovely sound! _Crash!вЂ™ _ Tom could hear the glass falling in glittering heaps. And the festival of science a month ago when they dragged in the last motor-car and picked lots and each lucky man who won was allowed one smash of a sledge-hammer at the car. The year they tore up all the books in the square and burned them and everyone was drunk and laughing. So here we are on a Thursday morning with our guts plastered to our spines, cold, live in caves and such, donвЂ™t smoke, donвЂ™t drink, donвЂ™t nothing except have our festivals, Tom, our festivals.вЂ™ And Tom thought of the festivals in the past few years. вЂRight! The whole blooming caboodle3 of the people in Past who run the world. Unthinking, maybe, but human nature anyway.вЂ™ вЂThereвЂ™s hardly nobody or nothing we donвЂ™t hate,вЂ™ said Tom. You hate whatever it was that got you all knocked down and ruined. I ask you, Tom, how did we get in such a state, cities all junk, roads like jigsaws from bombs and half the cornfields glowing with radio-activity at night? AinвЂ™t that a lousy stew, I ask you?вЂ™ _ вЂYes, _sir, I guess so.вЂ™ вЂItвЂ™s this way, Tom. Tom had seen the gesture a million times. Tom, thereвЂ™s lots of reasons.вЂ™2 He reached absently for a pocket that was long gone, for a cigarette that wasnвЂ™t there. вЂWhyвЂ™re we all here to spit?вЂ™ Grigsby did not glance clown at him, but judged the sun. вЂWhyвЂ™re we all here in line?вЂ™ asked Tom, at last. Now mind, no rocks, Tom they donвЂ™t allow rocks thrown at her.вЂ™ вЂYes, sir.вЂ™ The sun rose higher in the heavens, bringing heat which made the men shed their grimy coats and greasy hats. They got her set up with four brass poles and a velvet rope to keep folks back. вЂHow much longer before we see her?вЂ™ asked Tom, uneasily. All we got now is bits and pieces.вЂ™ They shuffled along the cold stones of the street. Things were in a fearful mess there for a while. Could be 3,000 or 5,000, for all we know. No one knows what year this is, to be sure.вЂ™ вЂItвЂ™s 2061вЂ™ вЂThatвЂ™s what they say, boy, yes. The original, now, IвЂ™ve heard, was painted on wood a long time ago.вЂ™ вЂThey say sheвЂ™s four centuries old.вЂ™ вЂMaybe more. And thatвЂ™s what makes me think sheвЂ™s not the original one. вЂThey say sheвЂ™s made of oil and canvas.вЂ™ вЂTrue. Tom stared ahead to the place where the line ended, beyond a bombed-out stone wall. It was made from some berry that grew on the meadowlands beyond town, and it sold a penny a cup to warm their stomachs but not many were buying, not many had the wealth. Tom looked and saw the little hot fire and the brew bubbling in a rusty

#Oxford phrasal verbs dictionary for learners of english cracked#

A man was selling cracked cups of hot coffee up ahead. вЂI just thought it strange, a boy out of bed so early.вЂ™ вЂThis boyвЂ™s an appreciator of arts, IвЂ™ll have you know,вЂ™ said the boyвЂ™s defender, a man named Grigsby, вЂWhatвЂ™s your name, lad?вЂ™ вЂTom.вЂ™ вЂTom here is going to spit clean and true, right, Tom?вЂ™ вЂI sure am!вЂ™ Laughter passed down the line. вЂI was joking.вЂ™ The man behind put his hand on the boyвЂ™s head. вЂWhynвЂ™t you run off, give your place to someone who appreciates?вЂ™ вЂLeave the boy alone,вЂ™ said the man ahead, suddenly turning. вЂGot my place in line, I have,вЂ™ said the boy. вЂHere, boy, whatвЂ™re you doing out so early?вЂ™ said the man behind him. The small boy stamped his feet and blew on his red, chapped hands, and looked up at the soiled gunny-sack clothing of the men, and down the long line of men and women ahead. The small bay stood immediately behind two men who had been talking loudly in the clear air, and all of the sounds they made seemed twice as loud because of the cold. Down the road, in twos and threes, more people were gathering in for the day of marketing the day of festival. All about, among the ruined buildings, bits of mist had clung at first, but now with the new light of seven oвЂ™clock it was beginning to disperse. THE SMILE By Ray Bradbury In the town square the queue had formed at five in the morning, while cocks were crowing far out in the rimed country and there were no fires.