The Adventure of My Aunt(by Washing

The Adventure of My Aunt
(by Washington Irving)
My aunt was a big woman, very tall, with a strong mind and will. She was what you may call a very manly woman. My uncle was a thin, small man, very weak, with no will at all. He was no match for my aunt. From the day of their marriage hehealth, and very soon he fell ill.
My aunt took all possible care of him: half the doctors in town visited him and prescribed medicine for him enough to cure a whole hospital. She made him take all the medicines prescribed by the doctors, but all was in vain. My uncle grew worse and worse and one day she found him dead.
My aunt was very much upset by the death of her poor dear husband. Perhaps now she was sorry that she had made him take so much medicine and felt, perhaps, that he was the victim of her kindness. Anyhow, she did all that a widow could do to honour his memory. She spent very much money on her mourning dress, she wore a miniature of him about her neck as large as a small clock; and she had a full-length portrait of him always hanging in her bedroom. All the world praised her conduct. 'A woman who did so much to honour the memory of one husband, deserves soon to get another,' said my aunt's friends.
Some time passed, and my aunt decided to move to Derbyshire where she had a big country house. The house stood in a lonely, wild part of the country among the grey Derbyshire hills.
The servants, most of whom came with my aunt from town, did not like the sad-looking old place. They were afraid to walk alone about its half-empty black-looking rooms. My aunt herself seemed to be struck with the lonely appearance of her house. Before she went to bed, therefore, she herself examined the doors and the windows and locked them with her own hands. Then she carried the keys from the house, together with a little box of money and jewels, to her own room. She always saw to all things herself.
One evening, after she had sent away her maid, she sat by her toilet-table, arranging her hair. For, in spite of her sorrow for my uncle, she still cared very much about her appearance. She sat for a little while looking at her face in the glass first on one side, then on the other. As she looked, she thought of her old friend, a rich gentleman of the neighborhood, who had visited her that day, and whom she had known since her girlhood.
All of a sudden she thought she heard something move behind her. She looked round quickly, but there was nothing to be seen. Nothing but the painted portrait of her poor dear husband on the wall behind her. She gave a heavy sigh to his memory as she always did whenever she spoke of him in company, and went on arranging her hair. Her sigh was re-echoed. She looked round again, but no one was to be seen.

Результаты (английский) 1:

The Adventure of My Aunt(by Washington Irving)My aunt was a big woman, very tall, with a strong mind and will. She was what you may call a very manly woman. My uncle was a thin, small man, very weak, with no will at all. He was no match for my aunt. From the day of their marriage, hehealth and very soon he fell ill.My aunt took all possible care of him: half the doctors in town visited him and prescribed medicine for him enough to cure a whole hospital. She made him take all the medicines prescribed by the doctors, but all was in vain. My uncle grew worse and worse and one day she found him dead.My aunt was very much upset by the death of her poor dear husband. Perhaps now she was sorry that she had made him take so much medicine and felt, perhaps, that he was the victim of her kindness. Anyhow, she did all that a widow could do to honor his memory. She spent very much money on her mourning dress, she wore a miniature of him about her neck as large as a small clock; and she had a full length portrait of him always hanging in her bedroom. All the world praised her conduct. ' A woman who did so much to honour the memory of one husband, deserves to get another soon, ' said my aunt's friends.Some time passed, and my aunt decided to move to Derbyshire where she had a big country house. The house stood in a lonely, wild part of the country among the grey Derbyshire hills.The servants, most of whom came with my aunt from town, did not like the sad-looking old place. They were afraid to walk alone about its half-empty black-looking rooms. My aunt herself seemed to be struck with the lonely appearance of her house. Before she went to bed, therefore, she herself examined the doors and the windows and locked them with her own hands. Then she carried the keys from the house, together with a little box of money and jewels, to her own room. She always saw to all things herself.One evening, after she had sent away her maid, she sat by her toilet-table, arranging her hair. For, in spite of her sorrow for my uncle, she still cared very much about her appearance. She sat for a little while looking at her face in the glass first on one side, then on the other. As she looked, she thought of her old friend, a rich gentleman of the neighborhood, who had visited her that day, and whom she had known since her girlhood.All of a sudden she thought she heard something move behind her. She looked round quickly, but there was nothing to be seen. Nothing but the painted portrait of her poor dear husband on the wall behind her. She gave a heavy sigh to his memory as she always did whenever she spoke of him in company, and went on arranging her hair. Her sigh was re-echoed. She looked round again, but no one was to be seen.

Результаты (английский) 2:

The Adventure of the My of The Aunt
(by Washington You of Irving)
the My aunt WAS a big woman, very tall, with a strong yet Mind and will of. She was what you may call a very manly woman. My uncle was a thin, small man , very weak, with no will at all. He was no match for my aunt. The day of the From Their marriage hehealth, and very soon's he Fell ill.
The My aunt took care of all Possible HIM: Doctors in the half the town visited HIM and HIM the prescribed medicine for the cure enough to a hospital A Whole. She made him take all the medicines prescribed by the doctors, but all was in vain. Grew Worse reply uncle the My Worse and one's day and she found! HIM dead.
The My aunt WAS very much an upset by the death of HER poor dear husband. Perhaps now she was sorry that she had made him take so much medicine and felt, perhaps, that he was the victim of her kindness. Anyhow, she did all that a widow could do to honour his memory. She spent very much money on her mourning dress, she wore a miniature of him about her neck as large as a small clock; and she had a full-length portrait of him always hanging in her bedroom. All the world praised her conduct. 'A woman the who DID SO much to the Honour a memory of one's husband, Deserves soon's the get to another,' Said up my aunt's friends.
Some time PASSED, and up my aunt Decided to the move to Derbyshire on where clause she HAD a big country house. Stood in house of The a lonely, by wild part of the country for Among the Grey Derbyshire on hills.
Of The Servants, are most of Whom CAME with up my aunt from town, DID not like the sad-looking old PLACE. They were afraid to walk alone about its half-empty black-looking rooms. My aunt herself seemed to be struck with the lonely appearance of her house. Before she went to bed, therefore, she herself examined the doors and the windows and locked them with her own hands. Then she carried the keys from the house , together with a little box of money and jewels, to her own room. To the always SAW She all things herself.
The One evening dress, the after she HAD HER sent away the maid, she sat by HER toilet-The table, arranging HER hair. For, in spite of her sorrow for my uncle, she still cared very much about her appearance. She sat for a little while looking at her face in the glass first on one side, then on the other. She Looked of As, she Thought of HER old friend E, a rich gentleman of the Neighborhood, the who visited HAD HER That day, and Whom she HAD HER known since girlhood.
The All of a Sudden she Thought she Heard something behind the move HER. She looked round quickly, but there was nothing to be seen. Nothing but the painted portrait of her poor dear husband on the wall behind her. She gave a heavy sigh to his memory as she always did whenever she spoke of him in company, and went on arranging her hair. Her sigh was re-echoed. She looked round again, but no one was to be seen.