Хелси и Смарт официальный сайт
Хелси и Смарт официальный сайт

Дидактические игры и материал для домашнего чтения по английскому языку : Иностранные языки

Дидактические игры для учащихся первого года обучения по английскому языку.

Рисунок 1

Рисунок 2

Рисунок 3

Рисунок 4

Рисунок 5

Рисунок 6

Рисунок 7

Рисунок 8

Игра “Бинго - глагол”

Цель игры: семантизация наиболее употребимых глаголов.

Учитель раздаёт учащимся карточки с изображением действий, затем называет глагол и у кого изображено действие, обозначающее этот глагол говорит: “Бинго”. Первый, кто поднял руку и сказал: “Бинго”, получает карточку. Выигрывает тот, кто первый закроет все глаголы в своей карточке.

Игра “Бинго - прилагательное”.

Цель игры: семантизация прилагательных.

Учитель раздаёт учащимся карточки с прилагательными, затем называет прилагательное и тот, у кого есть антоним этого прилагательного, говорит: “Бинго”. Первый, кто поднял руку и сказал: “Бинго”, получает карточку. Выигрывает тот, кто первый закроет все прилагательные в своей карточке.

Игра “Какое число?”

Цель игры: закрепить счёт.

Учащиеся работают в парах. Учащийся должен узнать число в пустой клетке, задав вопрос:”What’s the number in square C1?” и т.д. Выигрывает тот, кто быстрее заполнит пропуски в своей карточке.

Тексты для дополнительного домашнего чтения для учащихся четвертого года обучения.

Цель – развитие коммуникативных способностей учащихся.

Chapter 1

Holding Mama\'s hand I came out of the dark railway station into the bright streets of the strange town. I had never seen Mama until today. Her tired, troubled face did not resemble, my mother\'s face. In spite of the chocolate she had bought me I had no warm feeling for her so far. During the journey from Winton she had sat opposite me silent; from time to time she had touched the corner of her eye with her handkerchief.

But now that we were out of the train she tried to look cheerful. She smiled and pressed my hand;

"You\'re a good boy not to cry any more. Do you think you can walk to the house? It\'s not too far."

I was anxious to please her. I answered I could walk. So we did not take the cab which stood near the station.

We went down the High Street. I was so tired that I could hardly move. Opposite a large building with columns Mama said proudly:

"Here are the Levenford Municipal Offices. Mr Leckie ... Papa ... works there;"

"Papa," I thought; "that is Mama\'s husband. My mother\'s father."

Now I could hardly drag my feet. Mama looked at me with pity.

"It\'s too bad there are no trams today," she said.

I was much more tired than I had thought; and rather frightened. The strange town terrified me. Soon, however, we left the noise and smoke behind and entered a quiet suburb.

We stopped at last before a tall grey house with yellow curtains and the name Lomond View. It was not so nice as the other Houses in the quiet street. But I liked the garden in front of it. It was full of beautiful yellow flowers.

"Here we are, then, Robert," said Mrs. Leckie.

"It\'s a nice place, near the village. Levenford is a smoky old town, but there is lovely country around it. Wipe your eyes, my dear, and come in."

I followed obediently. My heart was full of fear. The words of our Dublin neighbour, Mrs. Chapman, as she kissed me good-bye, rang in my ears: "What\'ll happen to you next, poor boy?"

At the back door Mama paused: a young man of about nineteen was working on his knees in a flower plot. He rose as we approached. He was big, pale, dark-haired and wore large spectacles/

"You are here again," Mama said reproachfully. Then, bringing me forward: "This is Robert".

Murdoch held out to me a large hand.

"I\'m glad to meet you, Robert," he said. Then he turned to Mama,- I got these flowers from the Nursery, Mama. They did not cost me anything."

"Well, anyway, dear," Mama said, "you must wash before Papa comes. You know how angry it makes him to see you out here."

We entered the kitchen. Mama told me to sit down and rest. She took off her hat and coat, hung them behind the door and began to move to and fro over the old brown floor. From time to time she gave me an encouraging look. I sat hardly breathing on the edge of a chair.

"We shall have dinner in the evening," she said, "because I was away. When Papa comes, try not to cry. It has been a great blow to him as well. Kate, my other daughter, will be in any minute, too. She is a teacher. May be your mother told you." She saw I was going to cry and went on hurriedly.

"Oh, I know it\'s confusing, even for a big boy like you, to meet all his mother\'s relatives for the first time. And there are more of them. There\'s Adam, my oldest son; he doesn\'t live with us. Then there\'s Papa\'s Mother. She is away now, but she spends half her time with us. And there is my father who lives here always — he is your great-grandpa Gow. It\'s not every boy who has a great-grandpa, I can tell you. When I have his tray ready you can take it upstairs to him. Say, how do you do, and help me at the same time."

Mama laid the table for five. Then she prepared a tray: she put upon it a cup of tea, a plate of jam, cheese and three slices of bread.

I looked at her with surprise: "Does Grandpa not eat his food downstairs?"

Mama seemed confused. "No, dear, he has it in his room." She lifted the tray. "Can you manage? Be careful and don\'t fall".

I climbed the stairs and entered a strange, interesting, very untidy room. The bed was still unmade.

My great-grandpa was sitting in a big old armchair by the fireplace. He was writing something.

He was a tall man, perhaps about seventy, with a mane of faintly red hair. It was in fact red hair, which had lost some of its colour, but had not yet turned white. His beard and moustache were of the same colour. His eyes were bright blue, not the faded blue of Mama\'s eyes. But the most remarkable thing was his nose. It was a large nose large and red. It looked like a ripe, enormous strawberry. I had never seen such a strange nose, never.

By this time he had ceased to write and turned slowly to look at me. We stared at each other in silence. I forgot about his nose, and blushed to think of the miserable picture I must make. I was standing there in my black suit, one stocking falling down, my face pale and tear-stained, my hair red.

Still silent he pointed to the table. I put the tray down on it. Without taking his eyes off me he began to eat hurriedly. Then he lit a pipe. "So you are Robert Shannon?" he said. "Yes, Grandpa." "Did you have a good journey?" "I think so, Grandpa." "Can you play draughts?" "No, Grandpa" ."You will, boy, if you stay here. I understand; you are going to stay. "Yes, Grandpa. Mrs. Chapman said there was no place for me to go". I felt very sorry for myself.

Suddenly I had a wild longing for sympathy, I wanted to tell him of my terrible position. Did he know that my father had died of tuberculosis, the dreadful disease, which had soon carried off my mother? It had even laid a little finger on me, it was whispered.

But Grandpa looked at me attentively and changed the subject.

"You are eight, aren\'t you?"

"Almost, Grandpa."

I wished to make myself as young as possible but Grandpa was pitiless.

"It\'s an age when a boy should stand up for himself ... Do you like to walk?"

"I\'ve never tried it much, Grandpa."

"Well, we shall go for walks, you and me and see what good Scottish air does to us." He paused. "I\'m glad you have my hair. The Gow hair. Your mother had it too, poor girl."

I could no longer hold back the desire to cry .— I burst into tears. Since my mother\'s funeral a week before, each time her name was mentioned I began to cry. And my tears always brought me everybody\'s sympathy. Yet this time I received no sympathy. I had a painful feeling that Grandpa did not like my tears. I tried to stop, choked and began to cough. I coughed and coughed, until I had to hold my side. It was one of the strongest fits I had ever had. I was, to be truthful, rather proud of it and when it ceased, looked at Grandpa expectantly.

But he did not say a word. Instead, he took al little box from his pocket and chose a large sweety from it. I thought he would give the sweet to me, but to my surprise and disappointment, he did not. He put it calmly in his own mouth. Then he said severely:

"If there is one thing I do not like, it is a crying child. In my life I\'ve had many difficulties. Do you think I would have won if I\'d been weak?"

At that moment a hand-bell was heard down stairs. He stopped — disappointed, I thought — and made a sign I should go. I took the empty tray and moved, ashamed, towards the door.

1. Give situations with the words.

In spite of
From time to time
Drag smb’s feet
To bring smb forward
Move to and fro
To cease to write
To have a wild longing for sympathy
To stand up for oneself
To burst into tears

2. Replace the words.

1. Her tired, troubled face did not look like my mother’s face.
2. But now when we left the train she tried to look cheerful.
3. I wanted to please her.
4. I could hardly walk.
5. He rose as we came up.
6. Can you do it?
7. I went up the stairs.
8. By this time he had sopped writing.
9. It’s an age when a boy should defend himself.

3. Answer questions.

1.Why did the boy come to his relatives?
2. Who met him on the railway station?
3. Where did the boy come from?
4. How many people were there in the family?
5. Had he ever seen the family?
6. How would you describe his feelings?

Chapter 2

Downstairs, Mr. Leckie, Kate and Murdoch had come in and, with Mama, were waiting for me in the kitchen. Their sudden silence showed that I had been the subject of their conversation. Like most lonely children I was very shy. In my present state I was more shy than ever. After a pause Papa took my hand, held it, then bent down and kissed me.

"I\'m pleased to see - you, Robert. It is a pity that we haven\'t met before."

I knew that a deep gulf had existed between my mother and Papa. But his voice was not angry, as I had feared; it was low and sad. I told myself that I must not cry, yet it was difficult not to when Kate also bent down and kissed me gently.

"Let\'s sit down," Mama said showing me to my place and again trying to look cheerful. "It\'s nearly half past six. You are very hungry, I am sure."

Papa, at the head of the table, began to slice the hot meat, while Mama served the potatoes and cabbage, at the other end.

"There!",- Papa said with the air of giving me a nice piece. He was a small man of forty-seven with a pale face and small eyes.

Under all these eyes it was difficult for me to manage the knife and fork: they were long and heavy. Also, I did not like cabbage; and my small slice of meat was terribly salty and tough. I was used to good food, to tell the truth, I was a spoiled child. My mother had often given me a six-pence and a kiss to make me eat a slice of chicken. Yet I could not displease Papa; I choked down the watery cabbage.

Papa saw that I was busy with my food. He looked down the table at Mama, and continued their interrupted conversation.

"Did you have to take a cab?" "No ... there was nothing much to bring." I could see that Papa was very much displeased." "No wonder there was nothing left. They had little common sense. Why didn\'t they insure?" He turned to me as I was trying to clear my plate. "That\'s a good boy, Robert. We waste nothing in this house."

Kate, who sat across the table, gave me an encouraging smile. Though she was twenty-one, only three years younger than my mother, I was surprised how little she resembled her. My mother had been pretty, but Kate was plain, with pale eyes and a dry, red skin. Her hair was colourless.

"You\'ve been to school I suppose?" Kate asked.

"Yes." I blushed and spoke with great difficulty. "To Miss Barty\'s."

"Was it nice?"

"Oh! very nice. If you answered well, Miss Barty gave you a sweet."

"We have a fine school in Levenford. I think you will like it".

Papa cleared his throat. "I thought the Elementary school in John Street... would be very suitable."

Kate looked directly at Papa. I could see that she was angry. "You know the school in John Street is a bad school. He must go to the Academy where we all went."

Papa\'s eyes fell. "Well, maybe. But not till next term. Give him some questions and see what class he is fit for." Kate shook her head.

"Now he is very tired and must go to bed. With whom is he sleeping?"

Mama said thoughtfully: "He is too big to sleep with you, Kate ... and your bed is very narrow, Murdoch ... besides you often go to bed late because of your studies. Why not put him in Grandma\'s room, Papa, while she is away?"

But Papa shook his head.

"She pays good money for her room. We can\'t do it without her permission."

So far Murdoch had been silent, eating quietly. Now he looked up with a practical air.

"He must sleep with Grandpa," he said.

Papa nodded, though his face became dark when Grandpa\'s name was mentioned. The question was settled. My heart sank. I was afraid of the strange man upstairs. But I was also afraid to say that I did not want to go.

Kate washed me in the small bathroom. She dried me and again put on my day shirt. We went upstairs. And there on the landing, holding out his hand, to take me, was Grandpa.

1. Give situations.

to be the subject of the conversation,
to choke down,
fit for
common sense,
a deep gulf,
to look with a practical air,
used to.

2. Change the words with synonyms.

Their sudden silence showed that they had been speaking about me.

I knew that there was misunderstanding between my mother and Papa.

I accustomed to good food to tell the truth, I was a spoiled boy.

I was surprised how little she looked like my mother.

Give him some questions and see what class he will go to.

Now he looked at me seriously.

3. Translate.

Я знал, что между моей матерью и дедушкой существовала огромная пропасть.

В моей теперешней ситуации я был ещё более робким, чем когда - либо.

Под его взглядом мне было трудно справиться с ножом и вилкой.

Чтобы заставить меня съесть кусочек курицы, мама награждала меня шестипенсовой монетой и поцелуем.


How did Robert feel?
What can you say about his life with his parents?
What relations did Robert’s mother and Papa have?
How can you characterize Robert’s father?
Can you predict Robert’s future?

Chapter 3

It was difficult to sleep with Grandpa. He snored loudly and squeezed me flat against the wall. In spite of this I slept well.

When I opened my eyes, I saw the morning sun streaming into the room. Grandpa was standing at the window, almost dressed.

"Did I wake you?" he turned "It\'s high time you were up"

As I rose and began to put on my clothes, he explained that Kate had already left for her school and Murdoch was on his way to College where he was preparing for a position in the Civil Service. As soon as Papa left we should go downstairs.

At last we heard the slam of the door. Mama greeted us with a faint smile, as if we were schoolboys, ready for all sorts of tricks, "How did you to get on?" she asked us. "Nicely, Hannah, thank you," Grandpa answered politely, sitting down in Papa\'s chair at the head of the table. This was the only meal that he took outside his room, as I soon learned. And he enjoyed it very much.

"Will you take Robert with you this morning, Father?" Mama asked.

"Certainly, Hannah," Grandpa answered.

"I know that you will help," she said. She continued to look at him with that sad faint smile, which showed her affection for him. As we finished our breakfast she brought his stick and hat and the documents which I had seen him copying the day before, Grandpa took my hand in his and walked out. Soon we reached the High Street. Grandpa entered a low building with a big brass plate: Duncan McKellar, Solicitor.

As we entered the office a woman at the desk told us coldly that Mr McKellar was busy with Mayor Blair and that we must wait.

After five minutes the door opened and a dark-bearded man came through the waiting-room. He looked at me attentively and stopped before us.

"So this is the boy?"

"It is, Mayor," Grandpa answered. Mayor Blair stared at me like a man who knew

my history better than I did myself. I felt my legs shaking with shame.

"You have no friends among boys of your age?" he said kindly.

"No, sir."

"My boy, Gavin, is not much older than you. Come over to the house to play with him. It\'s quite near." I hung my head. I could not tell him that I did not want to play with this unknown Gavin. He stood for a moment silent, then he nodded and went out.

Mr. McKellar was now free to give us his attention. His office, though old-fashioned, was very rich and beautiful. He was a red-faced man of about fifty with clever eyes. He took the papers which Grandpa had brought and looked at them.

"Indeed, Dandie, you are a good writer. I wish you could do everything as well as you copied this."

"I\'m grateful for the work you give me," said Grandpa.

"I see you have a new member of the family, said McKellar, looking at me perhaps more attentively than the Mayor. Then he added as if with surprise: "It\'s a nice boy. You will have no trouble with him or I\'m much mistaken." Slowly he took a shilling out of the pocket. He gave it to Grandpa and said: "Buy the boy a glass of lemonade, Dandie. You may go now. Mis. Glennie will give you some more papers to copy."

Grandpa left the office in an excellent mood. But I was very much depressed. I felt myself more of a mystery than ever. Why was I such a curiosity to all these people? What made them shake their heads over me?

The truth, though I didn\'t know it, was very-simple. In this small Scots town everybody knew that my mother, a pretty and popular girl, had disgraced herself she married my father, Owen Shannon; a stranger from Dublin who had nothing but high spirits and good looks. Nobody thought of the happy years that they had spent together. But my father\'s death, followed so soon by my mother\'s, was regarded ma just retribution.

Grandpa took the way near the pond and at the end of half an hour we entered Drambuck village. It was a pretty place with a little river, surrounded by woods. Grandpa seemed to know everyone. As we walked down the village street he greeted all the people we met, and they also greeted him in a friendly way. I felt him to be a really great person.

On the step of the “Drumbuck Arms” stood a stout red-faced man. He was especially friendly. Grandpa stopped and said: "We mustn\'t forget your lemonade, boy."

I sat on the warm step and Grandpa brought me a glass of lemonade. I liked it very much. Grandpa returned to the "Arms" and I saw him empty a small thick glass with a quick movement and then drink slowly from a big glass.

At this moment my attention was attracted by the cries of two little girls who were playing on the lawn not far from the inn. As I was lonely, I rose and approached the lawn, I did not like strange boys but most of Miss Barty\'s pupils had been girls and I did not feel shy with them?

The younger of the girls stopped running and sat down on a bench. She was of my age, wore a short skirt and was singing, singing to herself. While she sang, I placed myself quietly on the other end of the bench and began to examine a scratch on my

knee. When she finished singing, there was a silence; then she asked me in a friendly way:

"Can you sing any songs?"

I shook my head sadly. I could not sing a note. Still I liked this little girl with brown eyes and curly dark hair. I was anxious to continue the conversation. I looked at her companion and asked:

"Is that your sister?" She smiled, but quietly and kindly.

"No," she said. "Louisa is my cousin. She has come to visit me. My name is Alison Keith. I live over there." She pointed to a beautiful house, surrounded by trees, at the end of the village.

I felt confused because I had made a mistake, and because she lived in such a beautiful house. Louisa ran up to us. "Hello! Where did you spring from?" She was about twelve, with long fair hair, which she pushed back with an air of importance. "I came from Dublin yesterday." "Dublin? Dublin is the capital of Ireland." She paused. "Were you born there?" I nodded. "Then you must be Irish?" "I am Irish and Scottish," I answered boastfully. Louisa was hot impressed.

"You can\'t be two things, that\'s quite impossible. It all sounds very strange." Suddenly she looked at me with the suspicion of an inquisitor. "What church do you go to?"

I wanted to answer "To St. Dominic\'s" but suddenly the burning in her eyes awoke my instinct of self-defence.

"Just an ordinary church, it was near our house."

I did not want to continue the conversation. So I jumped up and turned head over heels three times, the only trick I knew.

When I got up, red-faced, Louisa\'s stare remained upon me. Then she said kindly.

"I was beginning to be afraid you were a Catholic." She smiled.

Redder than ever I said: "What put the idea in your head?"

"Oh, I don\'t know. It\'s lucky you\'re not." Quite confused, I looked at my shoes, Alison\'s eyes showed something of my own suffering.

Are you going to stay here?" Louisa asked.

"Yes, I am." My lips were stiff, I could hardly speak. "I\'m going to the Academy." "The Academy! That\'s your school, Alison. Oh, it\'s lucky you\'re not what I thought. I don\'t think there is a single one in the whole Academy. Is there, Alison?" Alison shook her head, with her eyes on the ground. I wanted to cry. Then Louisa laughed gaily and said: "We must go for lunch now." She rose and added with an encouraging smile: "Don\'t look so miserable. You will be quite all right if what you\'ve said is true. Come along, Alison." As they were leaving, Alison turned to me and gave me a look full of sorrowful sympathy. But it did not make me happier. I was crushed by the terrible and unforeseen catastrophe.

Stiff with shame, I stood looking at their figures in the distance, when Grandpa called me from the other side of the street . He was smiling and looked very pleased. We set out in the direction of Lomond View.

"You seem very successful with the ladies, Robbie. Was that the little Keith girl?”

"Yes, Grandpa," I mumbled.

"Nice people," said Grandpa. "Her father was captain of a ship ... before he died. The mother is a fine woman. She plays the piano beautifully ... and the little girl sings like a bird! What\'s the matter with you?”

"Nothing, Grandpa. Nothing at all." He shook his head and began to whistle. As we approached the house, he said in a low voice, "You mustn\'t tell Mama that we had a drink! She doesn\'t like it."

© Блог Хелси и Смарт / Школа и школьники

Читать еще:

Оставить комментарий (facebook):
Комментировать через ВКонтакте:

Школьные занятия:
RSS (видео) // RSS (статьи)