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Английский язык для школьников и поступающих в вузы. Устный экзамен

Покупка
Артикул: 664300.01.99
Данное пособие адресовано абитуриентам, поступающим на гуманитарные факультеты высших учебных заведений. В пособии представлены материалы, необходимые для сдачи устного экзамена по английскому языку: тексты для чтения, перевода и пересказа; тексты#темы (топики) и тексты страноведческого характера для дополнительного чтения. Пособие может быть также использовано учащимися старших классов при подготовке к выпускным экзаменам.
Цветкова, И. В. Английский язык для школьников и поступающих в вузы. Устный экзамен: Пособие / Цветкова И.В., Клепальченко И.А., Мыльцева Н.А. - Ростов-на-Дону :Феникс, 2013. - 206 с. ISBN 978-5-222-21176-2. - Текст : электронный. - URL: https://znanium.com/catalog/product/907916 (дата обращения: 19.04.2024). – Режим доступа: по подписке.
Фрагмент текстового слоя документа размещен для индексирующих роботов. Для полноценной работы с документом, пожалуйста, перейдите в ридер.
АНГЛИЙСКИЙ ЯЗЫК

ДЛЯ ШКОЛЬНИКОВ И

ПОСТУПАЮЩИХ В ВУЗЫ

УСТНЫЙ ЭКЗАМЕН

ИЗДАНИЕ ТРИНАДЦАТОЕ

Авторы-составители:

Цветкова И. В., Клепальченко И.А., Мыльцева Н.А.

, «-» 
--, «» 

2013

УДК 373.167.1:811.111
ББК 81.2Англ9
КТК 441
Ц64

Авторы и составители
Цветкова Ирина Всеволодовна, профессор, кандидат филологических наук 
Клепальченко Игорь Алексеевич, доцент, кандидат филологических наук
Мыльцева Нина Александровна, профессор, доктор филологических наук

Цветкова И.В.

Данное пособие адресовано абитуриентам, поступающим на гуманитарные
факультеты высших учебных заведений. В пособии представлены материалы,
необходимые для сдачи устного экзамена по английскому языку: тексты для
чтения, перевода и пересказа; текстытемы (топики) и тексты страноведческого
характера для дополнительного чтения. Пособие может быть также использовано
учащимися старших классов при подготовке к выпускным экзаменам.

УДК 373.167.1:811.111
ББК 81.2Англ9

Ц64       Английский язык для школьников и поступающих в вузы. Устный экзамен /  
И.В. Цветкова, И.А. Клепальченко, Н.А. Мыльцева. — Издание тринадцатое. 
— Москва : Глосса-Пресс ; Ростов н/Д : Феникс, 2013. — 206 с.
         ISBN 978-5-222-21176-2   (Феникс)                               
         ISBN 5-7651-0096-1   (Глосса-Пресс)                            

         ISBN 978-5-222-21176-2   (Феникс)                               © Цветкова И.В., 2009
         ISBN 5-7651-0096-1   (Глосса-Пресс)                            © ГЛОССА-ПРЕСС, 2009
 

Уважаемые читатели!

Пособие, которое вы держите в руках, в первую очередь адресовано
тем, кто решил поступать на факультет иностранных языков и готовится к
предстоящим экзаменам. Впрочем, и тем, кто поступает в неязыковые вузы,
но должен будет сдавать экзамен по английскому языку, оно, как мы
надеемся, тоже пригодится. Это пособие может оказаться полезным и для
учащихся школ, гимназий и лицеев, для студентов колледжей и
университетов при подготовке к сессии, зачетам или к устным беседам и
выступлениям.

Устный экзамен по английскому языку состоит, как правило, из
следующих заданий:
1. Прочитать вслух отрывок из текста (по выбору экзаменатора) и
перевести его на русский язык.
2. Пересказать текст и/или ответить на вопросы экзаменатора по его
содержанию.
3. Побеседовать с экзаменатором на одну из предложенных им тем.

В данном пособии вы найдете образцы экзаменационных текстов,
текстытемы (топики), которые помогут вам вести беседу с экзаменатором,
тексты страноведческого характера для дополнительного чтения, вопросы,
которые вам могут задать на экзамене.

В пособие включены как традиционные темы ("My Family", "My
School", "My Working Day", "My Summer Holidays", "Great Britain",
"London", "Moscow" и т.д.), так и темы, которые стали появляться в
экзаменационных билетах относительно недавно ("Mass Media", "Life in the
21st Century", "Will We Live in Space?", "Can We Live Longer?", "Computer
Revolution", "Our Planet Earth" и др.).

Возможно, какието топики подойдут вам полностью, какието
частично, но любой из них может служить основой для составления
собственного рассказа. Мы надеемся, что вы не будете заучивать топики
наизусть, а используете свое воображение и фантазию и сочините чтонибудь
сами.

Желаем удачи!
Авторы

: г. Москва, ул. Новодмитровская, д. 5а, стр. 3, офис 608,
-/: (499) 558-03-11, 8-915-187-73-57, -mail: book@glossa.ru 

TEXTS

4

T
hey were about to start Christmas
lunch. The family were all sitting
expectantly round the table: Dad, Mum,
Ron and Jennie — and Jan.
Everybody was talking at once. Dad
was waiting, a bit impatiently, to say
what he said every year as he cut the first
slice of turkey.
Jan didn't feel like talking. She 
was thinking of Davey, and didn't really
pay any attention to the
other people at the table.
When she saw the table —
the huge brown turkey in
front of her father, the
dishes of potatoes and vegetables — she thought of
Davey's words the night
before. "We're killing ourselves with too much food
and three quarters of the
world are starving to
death 1 ..."
"A bit of turkey, Jan?"
Jan hesitated, then took
a deep breath and said,
"No turkey for me, thank
you."
Silence. The other members of the family stared at
her.
"It's horrible," said Jan,
trembling a little." —
We're eating like pigs and
they're starving —"
"Who's starving?" Dad
asked, looking puzzled.

"Oh, everybody — the rest of the
world — you know, you see enough of it
on TV!"
Mr Morris stood still in front of the
turkey. He was trying to keep control of
himself. "So you think we're all a lot of
pigs, do you? And where did you get that
idea from?"
"Davey said —"
"Oh, Davey said, did he? That longhaired layabout 2? Well,
shall I tell you what you
can do?"
"Jim!" Jan's mother put
her hand on his arm, but he
shook her off. He was in a
terrible rage.
"Shall I tell you what
you can do?" he went on.
"You can get out of here
and spend the rest of your
Christmas 
with 
your
Davey."
Jan knew her father
didn't like Davey, but she
hadn't expected this rage.
"You're wrong, Dad,"
she said. "Davey doesn't
deserve that sort of criticism."
"Get out!"
The rest of the family
didn't say a word as Jan
left the room, crying.
There was nobody else
around in the streets at
three o'clock that after
THE HARD WAY

THE HARD WAY

5

"Want one, Jan?"
Davey was standing over her. The
candle had got so low she could hardly
see what he was offering her.
"What is it?"
"This."
It was like a long cigarette. Everybody
else seemed to be holding one.
"What is it?"
"Come on, Jan, you know."
Yes, she knew. So that was the smell:
pot 4. She felt sick. The room spun in front
of her eyes. She felt herself sweating. The
candle seemed to grow six feet tall. She
struggled to her feet.
"Hey, kid. What's up?"
Davey grabbed her arm, and looked
accusingly at her.
"Where are you going?"
Jan pulled her arm away from him. "I
don't know — I — I need some air, that's
all. Let me go, Davey."
He was smiling but it was a hard
smile. "OK," he said. "Suit yourself. You
must be nuts 5, or something. We were
just about to have some food, too."
But Jan didn't hear him. She was
already at the door, leaving a Christmas
gathering for the second time that day.

(After M. Rodgers)

noon. It was Christmas Day, after all. Most
people were inside watching TV, or eating.
She was walking towards Davey's
house. Her father had told her to go and
spend the rest of Christmas with him, and
that was what she was going to do.
She was lucky: Davey was in.
"Hi, Jan! Fancy seeing you here! I
thought you were spending Christmas in
the heart of the family, eating Christmas
pudding and all that stuff."
"Well, I was, but ... can I come in,
Davey?"
There was a slight pause before he
said. "Sure. I've got a few people here, but
one more won't make any difference."
It was pretty dark in the room. There
was one candle, burning in a saucer on a
shelf in one corner of the room. Jan
couldn't see how many people there were,
but she guessed about seven or eight; they
were all sitting, or lying on the floor.
Indian music was coming from somewhere. There was a smell, too: of damp,
and old cooking, and something Jan didn't
recognize — incense 3 perhaps?
Jan sat down. She was feeling tired
and, she had to admit, hungry. She wondered if Davey had, after all, any food.
Nobody was talking. The music droned
on. The air got thicker and thicker, and the
strange smell got stronger and stronger.

1 to starve to death умирать от голода

2 layabout ['leiEbaut] бездельник

3 incense ['insens] ладан, фимиам

4 pot [pCt] разг. марихуана

5 nuts [nVts] слэнг псих, чокнутый

TEXTS

6

I
was born at Number Nineteen,
Tummill Street, London. My mother
died when I was five years old. She died
fifteen minutes after my sister Polly was
born.
As my father worked from morning
till night, he had no time to look after
Polly and me, so he married again soon.
He married Mrs Burke, who was much
younger and more good-looking than my
mother.
But I did not like my
stepmother and she did not
like me. So we began to
hate each other; but she did
not show her hatred when
my father was at home.
She beat me very often and
she made me work very
hard. From morning till
night she found work for
me to do. I looked after the
baby. When she was
awake, I took her for a
walk, carrying her in my
arms, and she was very
heavy. I cleaned the rooms,
went shopping, etc. There
was always work for me to
do.
One day a woman came
to see my stepmother and
they drank a lot of gin. All
the money that my father
had left for our dinner was
spent. When the woman
went home, my stepmother

said to me in tears, "Oh, what shall I do,
Jimmy, dear, what shall I do? Your father
will come home soon, and there's no dinner for him. He will beat me cruelly!
What shall I do, what shall I do?"
I was sorry for her, she had tears in her
eyes, and she called me "Jimmy, dear" for
the first time. I asked her if I could help
her and she said at once, "Oh, yes, you
can help me! When your father comes
home in the evening,
Jimmy, dear, tell him that
you lost the money he left
for our dinner."
"How could I lose it?" I
asked in surprise.
"You can tell him that I
sent you to buy some food.
Suddenly a big boy ran
against you and the money
fell out of your hand and
you could not find it. That
will be very easy to say,
Jimmy, dear, please, say it
to your father!"
"But he'll give me a
good beating 1 for it!" "Oh,
no, he won't! I shall not let
him beat you, you may be
sure! Here is a penny for
you, go and buy some
sweets with it!"
So I went off and spent
my penny on sweets.
When I came back and
opened the door, my father
was at home waiting for

STEPMOTHER

STEPMOTHER

7

But my stepmother's words surprised me
very much.
"Yes, he told me the same thing," she
said, "but he is a liar! He has spent your
money on sweets. I can't beat him, he is
your child, but you can give him a good
beating!"
And she stood by while my father beat
me with his belt till the blood showed. I
hated my stepmother so much now that I
wanted to see her dead.

(After J. Greenwood)

me with his waist-belt in his hand. I wanted to run out of the room, but he caught
me by the ear.
"Stop a minute, young man!" he said.
"What have you done with the money?"
"I lost it, Father," said I in fear and
looked at my stepmother.
"Oh, you lost it! Where did you lose it?"
"In the street, Father. Ask Mrs Burke,
she knows!"
I told him what my stepmother had
asked me to tell him. I was not much surprised that he did not believe my story.

1 to give a good beating выпороть, устроить хорошую взбучку

TEXTS

8

I
n fairy-tales, witches always wear
silly black hats and black cloaks, and
they ride on broomsticks.
But this is not a fairy-tale. This is
about REAL WITCHES.
The most important thing you should
know about REAL WITCHES is this.
Listen very carefully. Never forget what
is coming next.
REAL WITCHES dress
in ordinary clothes and
look very much like ordinary women. They live in
ordinary houses and they
work in ORDINARY JOBS.
That is why they are so
hard to catch 1.

Luckily, there are not a
great number of REAL
WITCHES in the world
today. But there are still
quite enough to make you
nervous. In England, there
are probably about one
hundred of them altogether. Some countries have
more, others have not quite
so many. No country in the
world is completely free
from WITCHES.
A witch is always a
woman.
I do not wish to speak
badly about women. Most
women are lovely. But the
fact remains 2
that all

witches are women. There is no such
thing as a male witch.
As far as children are concerned 3, a
REAL WITCH is the most dangerous of
all the living creatures on the earth. What
makes her doubly dangerous is the fact
that she doesn't look dangerous. Even
when you know all the secrets (you will
hear about those in a
minute), you can still never
be quite sure whether it is a
witch you are looking at or
just a kind lady.
For all you know, a
witch might be living next
door to you4 right now.
Or she might be the
woman with the bright
eyes who sat opposite you
on the bus this morning.
She might be the lady
with the dazzling smile
who offered you a sweet
from a white paper bag in
the street before lunch.
She might even — and
this will make you jump —
she might even be your
lovely school-teacher who
is reading these words to
you at this very moment.
Look carefully at that
teacher. Perhaps she is
smiling at the absurdity of
such a suggestion. Don't let
that put you off. 5 It could
be part of her cleverness.

A NOTE ABOUT WITCHES

A NOTE ABOUT WITCHES

9

Unhappily, there is no such way. But
there are a number of little signals you
can look out for, little quirky habits that
all witches have in common 9, and if you
know about these, if you remember them
always, then you might just possibly
manage to escape danger.

(After R. Dahl)

I am not, of course, telling you for one
second that your teacher actually is a
witch. All I am saying is that she might be
one. It is most unlikely. But — and here
comes the big "but" — it is not impossible.
Oh, if only there were a way 6 of
telling for sure whether a woman was a
witch or not, we could round them all
up 7and put them in the meat-grinder. 8

1 they are so hard to catch их так трудно поймать

2 the fact remains факт остается фактом

3 As far as children are concerned [kEn'sç:nd] Что касается детей

4For all you know, a witch might be living next door to you Как знать, возможно, ведьма
живет с вами по соседству

5 Don't let that put you off
Это не должно сбить вас с толку

6 Oh, if only there were a way... Ax, если бы существовал способ...

7 to round [raund] up согнать в одно место, произвести облаву

8 meat-grinder ['mi:t,graindE] мясорубка

9 that all witches have in common зд. свойственные всем ведьмам

TEXTS

10

T
hree months passed. Little by little
Andrew got used to this strange
town, surrounded by the mountains, and
to the people most of whom worked in
the mines 1. The town was full of mines,
factories, churches and small dirty old
houses. There was no theatre, not even a
cinema the workers could go to after
work. But Andrew liked the people. They
spoke little and worked much. They liked
football, and what was more interesting,
they were fond of music, good classical
music. He often heard the
sound of a piano, coming
from this or that house.
It was clear to Andrew
now, that Doctor Page
would never see a patient
again. Manson did all the
work, 
and 
Mrs 
Page
received all the money. She
paid out to Manson less
than one sixth of that —
twenty pounds and sixteen
shillings a month. Almost
all of it Andrew sent to the
University to pay his debt.
But at that time the question of money was not
important to him. He had a
few shillings in his pocket
to buy cigarettes and he
had his work, and that was
more than enough for him.
He had to work hard and to
think much for he saw now
that the professors at his

University had given him very little to
know about practical medicine.
He thought about all that walking in
the direction of Riskin Street. There in
Number 3 he found a small boy of nine
years of age ill with measles 2.
"I am sorry, Mrs Howells 3," Andrew
said to the boy's mother. "But you must
keep Idris 4 home from school 5." (Idris
was Mrs Howells' other son.)
"But Miss Barlow 6 says he may come
to school."
"Oh? Who is Miss
Barlow?"
"She is the teacher."
"Miss Barlow has no
right to let him come to
school when his brother
has measles," Andrew said
angrily.
Five minutes later he
entered a classroom of the
school. A
very young
woman of about twenty or
twenty-two was writing
something on the blackboard. She turned to him.
"Are you Miss Barlow?"
"Yes." Her large brown
eyes were looking at him
friendly.
"Are you Doctor Page's
new assistant?"
Andrew reddened suddenly.
"Yes," he said, "I'm
Doctor Manson. You know

THE SCHOOL-TEACHER