English Recordings

(2012.2.10)<A sky of on my way home>
•Hello, how have you been? How are you today?
•Today I’ll talk about the sky that I saw when I came back home.
• I took these pictures when I returned home late this afternoon.
• Sure I know it’s a really dangerous thing to take pictures when I drive.
May be if the police found out, I might be fined.
• But when I drove my car on the way home, I happened to see a beautiful image of the sky through my car window glass.
• Then I had to take a picture of it with my phone-camera even though I was driving.
• It only lasted a moment that sun concealed itself behind the clouds.
• But it couldn’t hide forever.
• And the second picture is "Konan" who is my younger sister`s dog.
• Late this afternoon, when I returned home I stopped by her house, and I was received[greeted] with wild[immense] enthusiasm from him(Konan).
• I just had to take a video of him and he looked so cute with his eyes.
• He is a really smart dog. Oh, the video below is "Konan"`s talent show.

'To end our special news bulletin,' said the voice of the television announcer,' we are taking you to the macaroni fields of Calabria. Macaroni has been grown in this area for over six hundred years. Two of the leading growers, Giuseppe Moldova and Ricardo Brabante, tell me that they have been expecting a splendid crop this year and harvesting has begun earlier than usual. Here you can see two workers who, between them, have just finished cutting three cart-loads of golden brown
macaroni stalks. The whole village has been working day and night gathering and threshing this year's crop before the September rains. On the right, you can see Mrs Brabante herself. She has been helping her husband for thirty years now. Mrs Brabante is talking to the manager of the local factory where the crop is processed. This last scene shows you what will happen at the end of the harvest : the famous Calabrian macaroni-eating competition ! Signor Fratelli, the present champion, has won it every year since 1961. And that ends our special bulletin for today, Thursday, April 1st. We are now returning you to the studio.'

When a light passenger plane flew off course some time ago, it crashed in the mountains and its pilot was killed. The only passengers, a young woman and her two baby daughters, were unhurt. It was the middle of winter. Snow lay thick on the ground. The woman knew that the nearest village was miles away. When it grew dark. she turned a suitcase into a bed and put the children inside it, covering them with all the clothes she could find. During the night, it got terribly cold. The woman kept as near as she could to the children and even tried to get into the case herself, but it was too small. Early ,next morning she heard planes passing overhead and wondered how she could send a signal. Then she had an idea. She stamped out the letters' SOS' in the snow. Fortunately, a pilot saw the signal and sent a message by radio to the nearest town. It was not long before a helicopter arrived on the scene to rescue the survivors of the plane crash.

An ancient bus stopped by a dry river bed and a party of famous actors and actresses got off. Dressed in dark glasses and old clothes, they had taken special precautions so that no one should recognize them. But as they soon discovered, disguises can sometimes be too perfect.
'This is a wonderful place for a picnic,' said Gloria Gleam.
' It couldn't be better, Gloria,' Brinksley Meers agreed. 'No newspaper men, no film fans! Why don't we come more often ?'
Meanwhile, two other actors, Rockwall Slinger and Merlin Greeves, had carried two large food baskets to a shady spot under some trees. When they had all made themselves comfortable, a stranger appeared. He looked very angry.
'Now you gut out of here, all of you!' he shouted: ' I'm sheriff here. Do you see that notice ? It says" No Camping"-in case you can't read !'
' Look, sheriff, 'said Rockwall,' don't be too hard on us. I'm Rockwall Slinger and this is Merlin Greeves.'
' Oh, is it ?' said the sheriff with a sneer. 'Well, I'm Brinksley Meers, and my other name is Gloria Gleam. Now you get out of here fast !'

Little boys who play truant from school are unimaginative. A quiet day's fishing, or eight hours in a cinema seeing the same film over and over again, is usually as far as they get. They have all been put to shame by a boy who, while playing truant, travelled 1600 miles. He hitch- hiked to Dover and, towards evening, went into a boat to find somewhere to sleep. When he woke up next morning, he discovered that the boat had, in the meantime, travelled to Calais. No one noticed the boy as he crept off. From there, he hitch-hiked to Paris in a lorry. The driver gave him a few biscuits and a cup of coffee and left him just outside the city. The next car the boy stopped did not take him into the centre of Paris as he hoped it would, but to Perpignan on the French-Spanish border. There he was picked up by a policeman and sent back to England by the local authorities. He has surely set up a record for the thousands of boys who dream of evading school.

The great racing driver, Sir Malcolm Campbell, was the first man to drive at over 300 miles per hour. He set up a new world record in September 1935 at Bonneville Salt Flats, Utah. Bluebird, the car he was driving, had been specially built for him. It was over 30 feet in length and had a 2500 horse-power engine. Although Campbell reached a speed of over 304 miles per hour, he had great difficulty in controlling the car because a tyre burst during the first run. After his attempt, Campbell was disappointed to learn that his average speed had been 299 miles per hour. However, a few days later, he was told that a mistake had been made. His average speed had been 301 miles per hour. Since that time, racing drivers have reached speeds of over 400 miles an hour. Following his father's footsteps many years later, Sir Malcolm's son, Donald, also set up a world record. Like his father, he was driving a car called Bluebird.

When you visit London, one of the first things you will see is Big Ben, the famous clock which can be heard all over the world on the B.B.C. If the Houses of Parliament had hot been burned down in 1834, the great clock would never have been erected. Big Ben takes its name from Sir Benjamin Hall who was responsible for the making of the clock when the new Houses of Parliament were being built. It is not only of immense size, but is extremely accurate as well. Officials from Greenwich Observatory have the clock checked twice a day. On the B.B.C. you can hear the clock when it is actually striking because microphones are connected to the clock tower. Big Ben has rarely gone wrong. Once, however, it failed to give the correct time. A painter who had been working on the tower hung a pot of paint on one of the hands and slowed it down !

During a bullfight, a drunk suddenly wandered into the middle of the ring. The crowd began to shout, but the drunk was unaware of the danger. The bull was busy with the matador at the time, but it suddenly caught sight of the drunk who was shouting rude remarks and waving a red cap. Apparently sensitive to criticism, the bull forgot all about the matador and charged at the drunk. The crowd suddenly grew quiet. The drunk, however, seemed quite sure of himself. When the bull got close to him, he clumsily stepped aside to let it pass. The crowd broke into cheers and the drunk bowed. By this time, however, three men had come into the ring and they quickly dragged the drunk to safety. Even the bull seemed to feel sorry for him, for it looked on sympathetically until the drunk was out of the way before once more turning its attention to the matador.

I was being tested for a driving licence for the third time. I had been asked to drive in heavy traffic and had done so successfully. After having been instructed to drive out of town, I began to acquire confidence. Sure that I had passed, I was almost beginning to enjoy my test. The examiner must have been pleased with my performance, for he smiled and said, 'Just one more thing, Mr Eames. Let us suppose that a child suddenly crosses the road in front of you. As soon as I tap on the window, I want the car to be stopped immediately.' I continued driving and after some time, the examiner tapped loudly. Though the sound could be heard clearly, it took me a long time to react. I suddenly pressed the brake pedal hard and we were both thrown forward. The examiner looked at me sadly. 'Mr Eames,' he said, in a mournful voice,' you have just killed that child !'

I crossed the street to avoid meeting him, but he saw me and came running towards me. It was no use pretending that I had not seen him, so I waved to him. I never enjoy meeting Bert Dykes. He never has anything to do. No matter how busy you are, he always insists on coming with you. I had to think of a way of preventing him from following me around all morning.
'Hullo, Bert,' I said. 'Fancy meeting you here !'
'Hullo, Elizabeth,' Bert answered. ' I was just wondering how to spend the morning--until I saw you. You're not busy doing anything, are you ?'
' No, not at all,' I answered.' I'm going to.. .'
'Would you mind my coming with you ?' he asked, before I had finished speaking.
‘ Not at all,' I lied, 'but I'm going to the dentist.'
' Then I'll come with you,' he answered.' There's always plenty to read in the 'waiting room !'