Caged by L.E. ReevePurcell was a sm

Caged by L.E. ReevePurcell was a small, fussy' man; red cheeks and a tight melon like 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:"Aren't they cute'! 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. Purceil again mounted the high stool and unfolded his morning paper. He adjusted his glasses, aad 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 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' the man. "Something in a cage. Something alive that's in a cage.""I see," hastened the storekeeper, not at all certain that he did. "Now let me think. A white rat, perhaps? I have some very nice white rats.""No!" said the xnan. "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? 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'1 like to have those birds. But this is all I've got. Just five dollars."Mentally, Mr. Purcell made a quick calculation, which told him that at a fifty cent reduction he could still reap a 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 labour. Ten 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 he do that?" He felt vaguely insulted.

Результаты (английский) 1:

LE by Reeve Caged

Purcell was a small, fussy 'man; red cheeks and a tight melon like 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 who CAME the customers of The in Said:

"Are not for They a cute 'AT the Look That little monkey for 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. Purceil again mounted the high stool and unfolded his morning paper. He adjusted his glasses, aad 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. What WAS IT now! Just wanted you? "

Of The man stared Closely AT the Purcell, as with the just now! Just Though aware of a His presence. Of He Said," I of want something in a cage. "

" For Something in a cage? "Mr. the Purcell WAS a bit: confused . "You mean - some sort of pet?"

"I mean what I said!" snapped 'the man. "Something in a cage. Something alive that's in a cage."

"I see," hastened the storekeeper , not at all certain that he did. "Now let me think. A white rat, perhaps? I have some very nice white rats."

"No!" said the xnan. "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? 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 ' 1 like to have those birds. But this is all I've got. Just five dollars. "

Mentally, Mr. Purcell made a quick calculation, which told him that at a fifty cent reduction he could still reap a 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. "Does not 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 could not. He heard himself asking, "

The other laughed. "Ten years! At hard labour. Ten years to earn five dollars. Fifty cents a year."

It was best, Purcell decided, to humor him. "The My, up my! Ten years. That's certainly a long time. Now"

"for They give you a five DOLLARS," Laughed the man, "and a cheap suit, and tell's you to the get caught a not 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 he do that ?" He felt vaguely insulted.

Результаты (английский) 2:

Caged by L.E. Reeve

Purcell was a small, fussy' man; red cheeks and a tight melon like 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 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:

"Aren't they cute'! 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. Purceil again mounted the high stool and unfolded his morning paper. He adjusted his glasses, aad 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, though just now 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' the man. "Something in a cage. Something alive that's in a cage."

""I see," hastened the storekeeper, not at all certain that he did. "Now let me think. A white rat, perhaps? I have some very nice white rats."

""No!" " said the xnan. "Not rats. Something with wings. Something that flies."

""A bird!" exclaimed Mr. Purcell.

"A bird's all right." "Doves? 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'm like to have those birds. But this is all I've got. Just five dollars.

Mentally, Mr. Purcell made a quick calculation, which told him that at a fifty cent reduction he could still reap a 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." "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. Ten 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 a 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 he do that?" he felt vaguely insulted.

Результаты (английский) 3:

Caged by L.E.Reeve
After all, it's a small, interesting person; red cheeks and a time taste like stomach. Big glasses such huge eyes give him a window and a window application.
He has 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 thinks he has a professional.
There is a stable life in his shop. The woman said:
"They don't care!" Look at that little money! They are 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's a rainy day. Wind gusted against the high，plateglass windows. Having completed his usual tasks，Mr.Purceil again mounted the high stool and unfolded his morning paper. He adjusted his glasses in a day of glanced head.
There's a bell'over door, a secret entrance. This morning，however，for the first time Mr.Purcell could recall，it failed to ring. In short, he is very happy to have a strange person standing at the door if he has a material out of this air.
storekeeper slid off his stool。 From the first instant he knows insignificantly, that the man had him; but out of orbit he rubbed his hands, smiled and hidden
"He is beautiful." What can I do for you? "
Shiny shoes squared forward for men. His victory was cheap, ill fitting, but obviously new. For the Resources announced for the campaign, he looked at the shadow shop.
"An unfortunate morning..." He put these two hands across his meaning of stomach, and smiled at the import. Now, what do you want? "
A man started shutting down in Purcell, and he's in the news now. He said,
"Something in a corner?" Mr.Purcell was a bit confused.” You mean some pet?
"I mean, what do I say" "Man". Something in a corner. Things in life. "
I see love, "stolen, not everything he did." Now let me see. A white rat, perhaps? I have a good night, white summer... "
Page: 1 said the xnan.” There are no mice. Some wings. There's something floating. "
"A big one." Exclaimed Mr.Purcell.
"Everything about a bird is right." Doves? How many of these are there? "
"There is an answer to the item." And a very realistic price. They are a very good father. "
“Five-fifty？” He was obviously abandoned. He made a five dollar bill. " I'm one of those birds. But this is all I have. It's only five dollars. "
Mentally，Mr.Purcell made a quick calculation，which told him that at a fifty cent reduction he could still reap a tidy profit. He smiled and said, "my dear, if you think they are bad, you can have their five dollars."
"He put his five dollars in his account. Mr.Purcell unhooked the cage，and handed it to his customer.” This is new. He said all of a sudden. " Don't let it be with your partner? "
Noise? What's the matter. Mr.Purcell looked surprised. He could hear something unusual.
"Keep your eyes closed." What do you think made me five dollars? "
merchant wanted to order him out the shop. But it's really good. He can't. He hears himself asking, "why, why did it take so long, you?"
Other smiles. " Decade! At hard labour. Five dollars for ten years. Fifty cents a year.”
This is the best, Purcell decided, to humar him. " Me, me! Decade. It's a long time. Now
"They give you five dollars to love," and a heap suit to tell you not to come back... "
A man lay there and started from the dock.
With the sudden redemption. He went to the window and started. From the outside, his peculiar customer has stopped. He was detained in his apartment. Then, opening the door, he realized that he had taken a child. He took it into the air. He put the second, the first. They look like bad little gray in winter town. A installation of librator "silent gaze watched them.". Then he left with himself.
The merchant was perplexed. So obviously someone wanted the doves and he had to let them have their prices down. And immediately he had to shut them down. " Why do you love "Mr. Purcell muttered," He felt uneasy.