Materiały przygotowawcze

MATERIAŁY PRZYGOTOWAWCZE DLA KL. IV 

 EDYCJA JESIENNA 2026

OPOWIADANIE DLA KL. IV 
Opowiadanie jest takie samo w obu edycjach danego roku szkolnego (jesiennej i wiosennej).

The Secret Door

„Wow! How big!” shouts Ella. „Yeah, it’s great,” says Tim.

Ella and Tim are twins.

Now they are in their new house. The twins’ parents are in the living room. Ella and Tim run to explore the house.

They open the door to Dad’s study. They look around.

Then Ella points to the floor. „Look!” she shouts. „What a horrible carpet!”

„It’s pink and yellow,” says Tim. „Dad doesn’t like pink.”

Then Ella has an idea. „Let’s take the carpet away. Dad will like that.”

The twins roll up the carpet.

Then Tim stops. „Look! What’s that?” he shouts.

There is something strange under the carpet. It looks like a little door.

Ella opens the door.

The twins can see a ladder. They climb down into a big room.

„Wow!” they shout. „It’s amazing!”

There is a big old table, two armchairs, a lamp and a lot of books.

There is an open book on the table. „Look! It’s a detective story,” says Ella.

The twins love detective stories.

„Let’s read it,” says Tim.

They sit down in the armchairs and start reading.

***        ***        ***        ***        ***        ***

It is the school holidays. Harriet and her friends, John and Violet, are staying in London with Harriet’s father, Sherlock Holmes, and his friend Dr Watson. Harriet likes solving mysteries.

One day somebody knocks at the door. Harriet opens it. A beautiful woman is standing there.

„Good morning,” she says. „I’m Lady Frankie Strangehill. Dr Watson is my friend, and I need his help.”

Lady Frankie is a famous photographer and she is very rich.

„I live in Strange Hill Manor with Lily, my home help,” she says. „It is my family’s old home. I want to repair it, but… there’s a ghost!”

Then Lady Frankie tells them a story about Lady Emily.

„Imagine this!” says Lady Frankie. “It’s a long time ago. Lady Emily lives in Strange Hill Manor. She loves a young pirate called Captain Mack. One day soldiers catch him. He dies in prison. Lady Emily is very sad. Soon she dies too.”

Lady Frankie stops for a moment. Then she says, „People say Captain Mack hid his treasure near Strange Hill Manor. On dark nights I see Lady Emily’s ghost at my bedroom window. She wants me to leave Strange Hill Manor. I’m afraid.”

The children are very excited. „A ghost!” says Violet. “What does the ghost look like?”

 „And pirate treasure!” says John.

„There isn’t a ghost,” says Dr Watson. „It’s something or someone. Let’s go and find out!”

„Oh yes!” say the three children together.

„I’m very busy now,” says Sherlock Holmes. „You go. I’ll come later.”

Dr Watson and the children go to Strange Hill Manor in Cornwall.

The manor is on cliffs by the sea. There is a beach and Captain Mack’s cave below it.

„Captain Mack’s pirate boat is in the cave,” says Lady Frankie.

„Let’s go there tomorrow,” says Violet.

The next day they go to the beach. They swim in the sea and play on the beach. A man and a woman watch them from the cliffs.

„Look!” says Harriet. „Why are they watching us?”

That evening Lady Frankie invites her two neighbours for dinner. They are the people from the cliffs.

Mr Hampton is an actor. Mrs Fisher is a businesswoman. She has a garage.

One day Dr Watson gets a letter from Sherlock Holmes.

„Harriet, your father needs me. I must go now, but I’ll come back soon.”

That night the children hear a loud scream.

„Quick! It’s coming from Lady Frankie’s room!” says Harriet.

The children run to Lady Frankie’s room. A ghost is at the window.

„Where is Captain Mack? Let me in! Go away! This house is mine!” shouts the ghost.

„It’s Lady Emily’s ghost!” cries Lady Frankie.

Harriet isn’t frightened. She thinks for a moment and says, „Oh no, it isn’t Lady Emily’s ghost. It’s a Pepper’s Ghost.”

„What’s a Pepper’s Ghost?” asks Violet.

„It’s an illusion,” says John.

The children run into the garden.

Harriet points to a big piece of glass, a mask and some old clothes.

„Look,” she says. „Someone uses a Pepper’s Ghost to frighten Lady Frankie.”

„And here’s the lamp,” says John.

The next morning Harriet says, „I think one of our neighbours wants to frighten Lady Frankie. Let’s follow them. You and John follow Mrs Fisher. I’ll follow Mr Hampton.”

Violet and John go to Mrs Fisher’s garage. They hide in an old car.

Suddenly Mrs Fisher gets into the car and drives away. John and Violet are still inside.

After a long drive, the car stops near Sherlock Holmes’s house. Mrs Fisher gets out of the car.

Sherlock sees the children. „Come here,” he says.

Mrs Fisher is very surprised.

„Where’s Harriet?” asks Sherlock.

„She’s following Mr Hampton,” says Violet.

„Quick! Back to Cornwall!” says Sherlock.

At the same time, Harriet looks out of the window. She sees Lily hurrying down to the beach.

„Why is she in a hurry?” thinks Harriet. „I’m going to follow her.”

Harriet follows Lily. Suddenly Lily disappears into Captain Mack’s cave. Mr Hampton is there.

„The children know about the Pepper’s Ghost,” says Mr Hampton.

„That’s bad news,” says Lily.

Mr Hampton pushes a button on a rock. A secret door opens in the cave wall.

Mr Hampton and Lily go through the door. Harriet follows them.

They walk down a long passage. Mr Hampton has a torch.

„It’s bad news,” says Mr Hampton. „Lady Frankie still lives here. I can’t take Captain Mack’s treasure. She might see us. Now these children stop me!”

Suddenly Harriet sees Captain Mack’s treasure.

Mr Hampton and Lily go back to the secret door. They are going to leave.

Harriet is frightened. „They’re going to shut the door with me inside!” she thinks.

But then she hears a familiar voice.

„Not so fast, Mr Hampton. The police want to speak to you,” says Sherlock Holmes.

„Harriet! Where are you?” call out John and Violet.

Now they know the whole story.

Lily isn’t a home help. She is an actress and helps Mr Hampton.

Mr Hampton wants Lady Frankie to leave Strange Hill Manor. He makes the Pepper’s Ghost to frighten her.

Harriet knows this trick. Actors often use it.

Captain Mack’s treasure goes to the local museum.

The children stay happily with Lady Frankie at Strange Hill Manor for the rest of the summer.

***        ***        ***        ***        ***        ***

The twins finish the story.

Suddenly they hear a strange noise. The twins look at each other.

„Maybe it’s a ghost!” says Tim.

„Yeah, maybe!” says Ella.

They laugh and climb up the ladder to see what it is.

∞ The end ∞
[Materiał własny; zawiera zaadaptowane fragmenty Harriet Holmes and the Pirate Treasure, Jane Cadwallader; wyd. ELI Publishing]

Słowniczek
(kolejność słów i wyrażeń zgodna z kolejnością ich występowania w tekście)

Zaleca się posłuchać wymowy nowych słów, korzystając np. ze słownika  https://www.diki.pl/

Zauważ, że często, kiedy mówimy o jednej osobie (3 os. l. poj.), wówczas przy nazwie czynności pojawia się końcówka –s (lub –es)

np. say – mówić, he says – on mówi; shout – krzyczeć, she shouts – ona krzyczy

twins – bliźnięta
the twins’ parents – rodzice bliźniaków
living room – salon
explore – zwiedzać, odkrywać
study – gabinet
carpet – dywan
He doesn’t like… – on nie lubi…
He will like that – to mu się spodoba
roll up – zwinąć
It looks like… – to wygląda jak…
ladder – drabina
climb down – zejść po…
amazing – niesamowity, wspaniały
armchair – fotel
detective story – opowiadanie detektywistyczne
school holidays – wakacje szkolne
stay with sb – przebywać u kogoś
like doing – lubić coś robić, np. like reading – lubić czytać
solve mysteries – rozwiązywać zagadki
knock at the door – pukać do drzwi
famous – sławny, znany
photographer – fotograf
manor – dwór; posiadłość
home help – pomoc domowa
repair – naprawiać, remontować
ghost – duch
imagine – wyobrażać sobie
soldier – żołnierz
catch – złapać
prison – więzienie
hid – ukrył; hide – ukrywać
treasure – skarb
She wants me to… – ona chce, żebym…
leave – opuszczać, wyjeżdżać (z)
What does it look like? – jak to wygląda?
find out – dowiedzieć się, przekonać się
cliff – klif, urwisko
cave – jaskinia
invite – zapraszać
neighbour – sąsiad
businesswoman – przedsiębiorczyni
garage – tutaj: warsztat samochodowy
loud – głośny
scream – krzyk
mine – mój, moja, moje (stosujemy, jeśli po mine nie ma rzeczownika, np. It is mine – to jest moje)
cry – 1. wołać, krzyczeć 2. płakać
frightened – przestraszony
Pepper’s Ghost – złudzenie optyczne, które wygląda jak duch
illusion – iluzja, złudzenie
piece of glass – kawałek szkła
mask – maska
frighten – przestraszyć
follow – podążać za; follow them – podążać za nimi; follow her – podążać za nią
suddenly – nagle
get into the car – wsiadać do samochodu
drive away – odjeżdżać
get out of the car – wysiadać z samochodu
surprised – zaskoczony
at the same time – w tym samym czasie
be in a hurry – śpieszyć się
disappear – znikać
button – przycisk
passage – korytarz, przejście
torch – latarka
familiar – znajomy, znany
trick – sztuczka
for the rest of the summer – przez resztę lata
look at each other – patrzeć na siebie (nawzajem)

SENTENCJE DLA KL. IV

1. Books let you travel without moving your feet – Książki pozwalają podróżować bez poruszania stopami.
   – Jhumpa Lahiri

2. Reading is a discount ticket to everywhere – Czytanie to bilet ze zniżką do każdego miejsca.
   – Mary Schmich

  3. Time is a river, and books are boats – Czas jest rzeką, a książki są łodziami.
    – Joseph Fort Newton

4. Good ideas do not always come immediately – Dobre pomysły nie zawsze przychodzą od razu.
   – Unknown 

5. To have a great idea, have a lot of them – Aby mieć świetny pomysł, miej ich dużo.
    – Thomas A. Edison

6. Life is like a mirror. Smile at it and it smiles back at you – Życie jest jak lustro. Uśmiechnij się do niego, a ono odwzajemni twój uśmiech.
   – Peace Pilgrim

7. Happiness can come from the small things – Szczęście może pochodzić z małych rzeczy.
   Unknown

  8. The earth laughs in flowers – Ziemia śmieje się kwiatami.
   – Ralph Waldo Emerson

PIOSENKI DLA KL. IV
Podane linki odsyłają do nagrań z dodanym zapisem słów piosenek oraz do ich tłumaczenia.

1. Welcome to Our House – Planet Pop
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YoJG2GiL6-c
   https://www.tekstowo.pl/planet-pop/welcome-to-our-house 

2. We’re going to be friends – The White Stripes
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lxdKR5aGSRk
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CCyrCbiwIiU
    https://www.tekstowo.pl/the-white-stripes/we-are-going-to-be-friends

3. Puppies Are Forever – Sia
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fdCLz5_SrOU  W teledysku powinno być: at the old dog pound (zamiast: down the old dog pound).
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-bXqQBjMljY
   https://www.tekstowo.pl/sia/puppies-are-forever

4. Better When I’m Dancin’ – Meghan Trainor
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_vV8OP6LKWg
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qqtULu9LN5s
   https://www.tekstowo.pl/meghan-trainor/better-when-i-m-dancing

 

MATERIAŁY PRZYGOTOWAWCZE DLA KL. V i VI 

 EDYCJA JESIENNA 2026

OPOWIADANIE DLA KL. V-VI
Opowiadanie jest takie samo w obu edycjach danego roku szkolnego (jesiennej i wiosennej).      

The Mystery Keys

’Nathan! Look what I found!’ Mark shouts. He runs into the garden.

Nathan sits on the grass. A little frog is next to him. 

’Don’t be afraid of him, Jenny,’ he says to the frog.

Nathan looks up. ‘What did you find?’

Mark opens his hand. There is a key inside. It looks like a flower. ‘What does the key open?’ he asks.

‘I don’t know,’ Nathan answers. ‘Let’s see.’ He stands up and says to the frog, ‘Wait for me, Jenny.’

The boys go into the house. Five hens follow them. They always follow Nathan.

Mark spends his holidays with his grandparents and his cousin Nathan in a small village. There isn’t a computer or a television in the house, but Mark never feels bored.

‘Let’s find a lock,’ says Nathan.

There are old cupboards and chests in every room.

The boys try every lock in the house, but the key doesn’t fit.

’Let’s ask Grandpa,’ says Nathan.

Grandpa is sitting in his favourite armchair with a book. Mark shows him the key.

Grandpa looks at the key for a long moment and smiles. 'I don’t know,’ he says. 'But that reminds me of a story.’

’What story?’ asks Mark. 'Tell us!’ says Nathan.

’Listen,’ says Grandpa.
                                                 ***        ***         ***        ***        ***        ***

It was strange that I visited my neighbour Mrs Marshall that Wednesday.

When I was younger, I often drank hot chocolate in her kitchen and listened to her stories about the Dead Letter Office. They were funny, sad and sometimes very strange.

That Wednesday Mrs Marshall received a letter with a little key inside. The key started the whole mystery.

Mrs Marshall worked at the Dead Letter Office. It was a part of the post office. Letters went there when the post office couldn’t deliver them or send them back. Sometimes the address was wrong or people moved house.

After school that day, I saw Mrs Marshall carrying two heavy bags from her car. I helped her. She smiled and said, ‘Would you like some hot chocolate, Danny?’

’Yes, please,’ I said.

Soon I was at her kitchen table with a warm cup in my hands. Then we started talking about the little key she got that day.

’There wasn’t a note with the key,’ Mrs Marshall said. 'Look. This is what it looked like.’

She took a piece of paper and drew the key. It had a flower-shaped top and a pattern on it. It wasn’t a house key or a car key.

’Why didn’t the key get to the right person?’ I asked.

’Someone wrote, “Not at this address”,’ Mrs Marshall replied.

Suddenly, I wanted to know everything about the key. Who sent it? Who was it for? What did it open?

’Can I keep the picture?’ I asked.

Mrs Marshall smiled. 'Of course.’

’I’d like to find the owner of the key,’ I said.

She laughed. 'Good luck! We never have time to look for clues.’

‘Do you remember who the key was for?’ I asked.

Mrs Marshall thought for a moment. 'Yes. Moreton. M-O-R-E-T-O-N.’

I wrote the name under the picture.

Mrs Marshall laughed again. 'It won’t be easy,’ she said.

’I can try,’ I said.

I picked up my school bag and walked to the door.

’Let me know if you find a clue!’ she called.

Mrs Marshall wasn’t the only one who thought it was funny.

The next morning, at the bus stop, I took the picture of the key out of my pocket and looked at it again. It was just a silly key. Why did I find it so interesting?

Then I saw my friends – Ben, Mark and Peter. Quickly I put the picture back in my pocket.

’What have you got there, Danny?’ asked Ben.

’Nothing,’ I said.

’Danny’s got a secret,’ said Ben. 'Let’s see it.’

They came towards me. I threw my school bag at them. We all laughed. Ben and Mark held my arms while Peter reached into my pocket.

’You can have it!’ I said, taking out the picture.

Peter looked at it. 'It’s a picture of a key.’

I told them about Mrs Marshall and the Dead Letter Office.

’So it’s a mystery,’ said Ben in a deep voice. 'The BIG mystery of the LITTLE key!’

The boys laughed. Then Peter looked up. 'She’s coming,’ he said.

It was Emma. She caught the same bus as us. She was new at our school, and I didn’t know much about her.

’Danny’s working for the Dead Letter Office,’ said Peter and laughed.

I took the picture from Peter and put it back in my pocket.

’I’m trying to find the owner of an old key,’ I said.

’Oh, really?’ said Emma.

Then the bus came and we got on.

Later, in class, we were working quietly when Emma came over to me.

’Tell me about the key,’ she whispered.

I told her the story. 'Not much of a mystery, really,’ I said.

’I think it’s interesting,’ Emma replied. 'I’d like to help you. Meet me outside the school at half past three.’

I nodded. 'Okay.’

After school Emma waited for me.

’Why don’t we go to the public library?’ she said. 'Maybe they have a book about old keys.’

The public library was in the next street.

Emma spoke to the librarian. The woman gave us a book about old furniture. It was full of pictures of locks and keys. We looked through them for half an hour.

Then Emma smiled. 'Look at this, Danny.’ She pointed to a photograph in one of the books.

Mrs Marshall’s picture of the key was lying on the table between us.

’It’s not exactly the same,’ Emma said, 'but it’s very similar.’

Under the photograph it said: Table Box – 1896. Its key had a flower-shaped top like ours.

I looked at Emma and grinned. 'Good job!’

She smiled back. 'It’s more than one hundred years old.’

’Maybe we can find out more at an antique shop,’ I said. We could go there after school tomorrow… if you want.’

Emma nodded.

’And maybe Mrs Marshall remembers the address the key was sent to.’

The next day Emma and I went to the antique shop.

The antique shop was in an old stone house with a dark red roof.

We walked inside. It was dark. Slowly I saw cupboards, tables, chairs and boxes.

Emma reached out her hand. 'Oh, what a beautiful lamp,’ she said.

A tall, thin man came out from behind a cupboard. 'Don’t touch that, please,’ he said.

I quickly took the picture of the key from my pocket.

’Can you help us?’ I asked. 'Did you see a key like this?’

The man looked at the picture. 'I’ll get my glasses,’ he said.

He disappeared into the back of the shop.

Emma picked up a cup.

When the man came back, he took the cup from Emma and put it down.

’The key is from the late 1800s,’ he said. 'I sold several jewellery boxes with keys like this.’

He pointed to some small wooden boxes.

’Did you sell any jewellery boxes in the last few weeks or months?’ I asked.

’No.’

’Did anyone come in and say they lost a key?’

He looked at us over his glasses. 'Did you find one?’ he asked.

I didn’t feel like telling him the story. I didn’t like him.

’Thanks for your help,’ I said. We left.

’The man in the antique shop wasn’t very friendly,’ said Emma.

I laughed. 'He waited for us to break something.’

’We didn’t find out much,’ she said.

’I hope Mrs Marshall gets the address from the letter tonight. Then we can look for the house on Sunday.’

’I’d love to,’ said Emma.

That evening I sat in Mrs Marshall’s kitchen.

’If I give you the address, Danny,’ she said, 'promise me you’ll be careful.’

’I promise.’

’And if they ask you to come in?’

’I’ll be careful.’

Mrs Marshall smiled. 'All right.’

A few minutes later she put a piece of paper on the table.

Mrs M. Moreton
15 Redwood Road, Hadenfield

’So it’s a real address,’ I said.

Mrs Marshall put a street directory on the table.

I found Redwood Road. 'It’s here,’ I said.

Redwood Road was near Hadenfield station. Emma and I could look for the house on Sunday.

On Sunday morning Emma and I caught a train to Hadenfield.

We soon found number fifteen in Redwood Road. There was a large FOR SALE sign with SOLD across it.

The house looked empty.

Emma looked through one of the windows. 'There’s nothing inside,’ she said.

Just then a car stopped outside the house. A man got out and looked at us.

’I hope you’re not thieves,’ he said.

I smiled.

’Perhaps you can help us,’ said Emma.

The man’s name was Jim. He bought the house. We explained everything to him.

’Yes, a letter came last week,’ he said. 'It was probably for the lady who lived here. She died, and later her niece sold me the house. I didn’t think the letter was important, so I wrote Not at this address on it and put it back in the post.’

’Do you know where her niece lives?’ I asked.

Jim shook his head. 'No, but her name is Kate Foster and I have her phone number.’

He took out his mobile phone. 'I’ll try to call her.’

After a moment he shook his head. 'No answer.’

’Can I leave my phone number?’ I asked.

’Of course,’ said Jim.

I wrote down my name and phone number.

’If she phones me, I’ll ask her to call you,’ he said.

We thanked Jim and left.

’Do you think she’ll phone?’ I asked.

Emma smiled. 'If she doesn’t,’ she said, 'we’ll just have to find another way to meet her.’

A few days passed, but Kate didn’t phone.

On Friday Emma smiled. ‘I know another way.’

‘What way?’

‘I remember Kate’s phone number,’ Emma said. ‘I saw it when Jim called her.’

My eyes opened wide. ‘Really? Let’s call her!’

Kate answered the phone. I told her about the key.

’Come and see me tomorrow afternoon.’ She gave us her address.

On Saturday afternoon Emma and I stood outside a tall white building in Mount Street.

Just then a man came out of the building.

’Look!’ I said. 'It’s the man from the antique shop!’

We waited until he drove away. Then we went to Flat 12. A girl opened the door.

’Are you Kate Foster?’ I asked.

She smiled. 'Yes, come in.’ She led us into the kitchen.

’Jim told me about the key,’ she said. 'The house belonged to my aunt. She died, so I sold it.’

’Does the key belong to you?’ Emma asked.

’I don’t know,’ said Kate. 'But I kept all my aunt’s furniture. Come and look.’

The bedroom was full of old furniture. We looked at every cupboard and chest with a lock.

But every lock already had its own key.

’There’s nothing here,’ said Emma.

Kate looked disappointed.

’I hoped to find something that belonged to my mother,’ she said. 'But I didn’t. I’m selling all the furniture and going back to New Zealand.’

’We saw the man from the antique shop,’ I said. 'Is he buying your furniture?’

’Yes,’ said Kate. 'Mr Carter knew my aunt. He said she promised to sell it to him.’

’We’ll ask Mrs Marshall to send you the key,’ I said.

’Thank you,’ said Kate. 'It’s funny. Mr Carter asked me about keys too.’

Emma and I looked at each other.

The wind was cold as Emma and I walked to the bus stop.

’Mr Carter is strange,’ said Emma.

’You’re right,’ I said. 'How did he know about Kate and the key?’

I took the picture of the key out of my pocket.

’Mrs Moreton’s name is on the picture. Maybe that’s how he found Kate.’

’Maybe,’ said Emma.

It began to rain.

’Let’s go to Mrs Marshall’s house,’ I said. 'She makes wonderful hot chocolate.’

Mrs Marshall listened to our story. 'You did a very good job,’ she said.

We drank our hot chocolate.

’Kate was disappointed,’ said Emma. 'She wanted to find something that belonged to her mother.’

Suddenly I remembered the old chest. 'I can’t stop thinking about it,’ I said.

’Why?’ asked Emma.

’I don’t know,’ I answered. 'But there was something strange about it.’

On Tuesday afternoon the phone rang. 'Danny, it’s Jim,’ said a voice on the phone. 'Another letter came for Mrs Moreton. Kate let me open it. It says Mrs Moreton ordered a special key for furniture from the 1890s, but she never collected it.’

I phoned Emma.

’So Mrs Moreton ordered the key herself,’ she said.

’Yes,’ I said. 'It must open something. I still can’t stop thinking about the chest.’

The next morning I suddenly knew.

’Emma!’ I shouted. 'I know what I saw! The chest is bigger on the outside than on the inside!’

Emma looked at me. 'Then there must be a secret compartment!’

’And maybe Mr Carter knows about it,’ I said.

After school we phoned Kate. 'Hello, Kate. It’s Danny.’

’Hello, Danny.’

’Please don’t let Mr Carter take the chest.’

’He’s here now,’ said Kate. 'He’s taking the furniture.’

’We’ll be there in fifteen minutes!’

I turned to Emma. 'Carter’s there! Let’s take a taxi!’

A few minutes later we arrived at Kate’s flat. Outside we saw Mr Carter’s truck.

We ran upstairs. Kate opened the door. Mr Carter was in the flat.

’The little key,’ he said. 'May I see it?’

Kate opened her hand. The key was there. Mr Carter reached for it.

’No!’ Emma and I shouted together.

Kate looked at us. 'Danny, what is it?’

’I think the key opens a secret compartment in the chest,’ I said. 'And I think Mr Carter knows about it.’

Mr Carter laughed. 'A secret compartment? Children have wonderful imaginations.’

Then he turned to his men. 'Take the chest.’

Before they could move it, Emma ran across the room and sat on the lid.

’You’ll have to take me too,’ she said.

’Please,’ I said to Kate. 'Just let us look.’

Kate handed me the key. We opened the chest. It was empty.

Then we moved it away from the wall. I looked all around it.

Suddenly I saw a small drawer near the bottom. 'Here!’ I shouted.

Kate looked surprised. 'I never knew it was there.’

I put the key into the lock. Slowly the drawer opened.

Mr Carter looked inside. 'There’s nothing valuable in there,’ he said. 'Only some old letters.’

Kate picked up one of the letters. Suddenly tears filled her eyes.

’These are from my mother,’ she whispered.

She held the letters carefully. 'They’re more precious than any jewellery.’

She turned to Mr Carter. 'I won’t sell you the chest.’

Mr Carter looked angry.

’You lied to us,’ I said. 'You didn’t know Mrs Moreton. You only wanted the key.’

Mr Carter said nothing and left.

Kate smiled. 'Thank you.’

’I’m glad we found the key’s owner,’ I said.

’And I’m glad you found what it opened,’ she answered.

Emma and I walked to the bus stop.

’You were very brave,’ I said. 'Let’s go and tell Mrs Marshall the end of the story.’

                                                ***        ***         ***        ***        ***        ***

‘And that’s the end of the story,’ says Grandpa.

Nathan looks out of the window. 'Look! The bees are dancing!’

Grandpa smiles. 'So Grandma is coming home.’

A moment later they hear her singing.

’The bees always dance when she sings.’

Grandma comes into the house. 'Where did you find the key to the old chest?’ she asks.

’So the key is to the old chest?’ Grandpa asks.

’Yes. It’s in the attic.’

’Are there old letters in the chest?’ asks Mark.

Grandma looks surprised. 'Yes. How do you know? There are some old diaries too.’

Grandpa and the boys just smile.

∞ The end ∞
[Materiał własny; zawiera zaadaptowane fragmenty The Key, Denise Kirby; wyd. Richmond]

Słowniczek
(kolejność słów i wyrażeń zgodna z kolejnością ich występowania w tekście)

Zaleca się posłuchać wymowy nowych słów, np. w słowniku https://www.diki.pl/

Uwaga:
Wiele czasowników tworzy czas przeszły przez dodanie końcówki -ed (np. answer – odpowiadać → answered – odpowiedział, odpowiedziała itp.). W takich przypadkach w słowniczku podana jest tylko forma podstawowa. Formy czasu przeszłego są podane osobno tylko przy czasownikach, które nie tworzą ich według tej reguły (tzw. czasowniki nieregularne).

Skróty używane w słowniczku:
sb = somebody – ktoś, kogoś, komuś itd.
sth = something – coś

find – znaleźć; czas przeszły: found
shout – krzyczeć, wołać
grass – trawa
be afraid of sb/sth – bać się kogoś/czegoś
frog – żaba
look up – podnieść wzrok / spojrzeć w górę
did – słówko pomocnicze w pytaniach w czasie przeszłym (używane z formą podstawową czasownika)
look like – wyglądać jak
hen – kura
follow sb – podążać za kimś
spend – spędzać
village – wieś
feel bored – nudzić się
lock – zamek
cupboard – szafka
chest – skrzynia
fit – pasować
armchair – fotel
remind sb of sth – przypominać komuś coś
neighbour – sąsiad, sąsiadka
be – być; czas przeszły: was, were
Dead Letter Office – dział niedoręczonych przesyłek
receive – otrzymywać
deliver – dostarczać
send sth back – odsyłać coś
move house – przeprowadzać się
carry – nieść
Would you like…? – Czy chciałbyś / chciałabyś…?
get – dostać; czas przeszły: got
note – wiadomość / notatka
take – brać; czas przeszły: took
draw – rysować; czas przeszły: drew
flower-shaped – w kształcie kwiatu
top – górna część
pattern – wzór
right – tutaj: właściwy
write – pisać; czas przeszły: wrote
reply – odpowiadać
owner – właściciel, właścicielka
clue – wskazówka, trop
think – myśleć; czas przeszły: thought
won’t – forma przecząca od will (słówka pomocniczego oznaczającego przyszłość)
pick up – podnieść
let me know – daj mi znać
take sth out of sth – wyjąć coś z czegoś
pocket – kieszeń
silly – głupi, niemądry
towards – w kierunku
throw – rzucać; czas przeszły: threw
hold – trzymać; czas przeszły: held
reach – sięgać
tell – mówić, opowiadać; czas przeszły: told
in a deep voice – głębokim głosem
catch – łapać; czas przeszły: caught
get on – wsiadać (do autobusu)
come over to sb – podejść do kogoś
whisper – szeptać
nod – kiwać głową
librarian – bibliotekarz, bibliotekarka
furniture – meble
look through sth – przeglądać coś
half an hour – pół godziny
point to sth – wskazywać na coś
lie – leżeć; was lying – leżał
similar – podobny
ours – nasz, nasza, nasze (stosujemy, jeśli po ours nie ma rzeczownika, np. It is ours – to jest nasze)
grin – uśmiechać się szeroko
find out – dowiedzieć się, ustalić
antique shop – sklep z antykami
stone – kamień; stone house – kamienny dom
roof – dach
disappear – znikać
put sth down – odłożyć coś
sell – sprzedawać; czas przeszły: sold
several – kilka
jewellery – biżuteria
wooden – drewniany
lose – zgubić; czas przeszły: lost
feel like doing sth – mieć ochotę coś zrobić
break – stłuc, zepsuć
I’d love to – bardzo chętnie.
promise – obiecać
be careful – uważać, być ostrożnym
street directory – spis ulic
for sale – na sprzedaż
thief – złodziej; liczba mnoga: thieves
buy – kupować; czas przeszły: bought
explain sth to sb – wyjaśniać coś komuś
everything – wszystko
niece – siostrzenica, bratanica
shake one’s head – kręcić głową; czas przeszły: shook one’s head
write down – zapisać
pass – mijać
answer the phone – odebrać telefon
drive away – odjechać; czas przeszły: drove away
lead – prowadzić; czas przeszły: led
belong to sb – należeć do kogoś
keep – zatrzymać, zachować; czas przeszły: kept
look + przymiotnik – wyglądać na
disappointed – rozczarowany
look at each other – patrzeć na siebie (nawzajem)
begin – zaczynać; czas przeszły: began
can’t stop doing sth – nie móc przestać czegoś robić
ring – dzwonić; czas przeszły: rang
let sb do sth – pozwolić komuś coś zrobić
order – zamawiać
collect – tutaj: odebrać
herself – sama
secret compartment – tajna skrytka
in – za (jakiś czas, np. in two days – za dwa dni)
arrive – przyjechać, dotrzeć
truck – ciężarówka
upstairs – na górę / na górze, na piętrze
imagination – wyobraźnia
lid – wieko
hand sb sth – podać komuś coś
drawer – szuflada
bottom – dół, dno
valuable – cenny, wartościowy
tear – łza
precious – cenny
lie to sb – okłamywać kogoś
bee – pszczoła
hear – słyszeć
attic – strych
diary – pamiętnik

SENTENCJE DLA KL. V i VI 

1. The books that we love are like old friends – Książki, które kochamy, są jak starzy przyjaciele.
   – Unknown
   
   
2. Not all readers are leaders, but all leaders are readers – Nie wszyscy czytelnicy są liderami, ale wszyscy liderzy są czytelnikami.
   – Harry S. Truman
   
   
3. Books wash away from the soul the dust of everyday life – Książki zmywają z duszy kurz codziennego życia.
   – Unknown
   
   
4. Sometimes we accidentally find something better than what we were looking for – Czasami przypadkiem znajdujemy coś lepszego niż to, czego szukaliśmy.
   – Unknown
   
   
5. There are always flowers for those who want to see them – Zawsze są kwiaty dla tych, którzy chcą je zobaczyć.
   – Henri Matisse
   
   
6. A single rose can be my garden; a single friend – my world – Pojedyncza róża może być moim ogrodem; pojedynczy przyjaciel – moim światem.
   – Leo Buscaglia
   
   
7. To have a great idea, have a lot of them – Aby mieć świetny pomysł, miej ich dużo.
   – Thomas A. Edison
   
   
8. The most embarrassing mistakes can make the best stories – Najbardziej krępujące błędy mogą tworzyć najlepsze historie.
   – Unknown

9. Sometimes one smile is worth more than a million words – Czasem jeden uśmiech jest wart więcej niż milion słów.
   – Victor Borge

PIOSENKI DLA KL.V i V
Podane linki odsyłają do nagrań z dodanym zapisem słów piosenek oraz do ich tłumaczenia.

1. That’s How You Write A Song – Alexander Rybak
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PSSjTjv5Dsg
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5KF36abcoUs
   ttps://www.tekstowo.pl/alexander-rybak/that-s-how-you-write-a-song

2. I Remember – Mocca
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xpAIZY3UU2w
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TYKLi82fMEY
   https://www.tekstowo.pl/mocca/i-remember

3. You’ve Got A Friend – James Taylor
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VrtzPNM_U6A
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H4GiYPVJq1A  W teledysku powinno być: wherever (zamiast: where ever).
   https://www.tekstowo.pl/james-taylor/you-ve-got-a-friend

4. You And Me – Joan Franka
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8cSRRkEfY9k
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2MHthmPyCm0
   https://www.tekstowo.pl/joan-franka/you-and-me

5. I Can See Clearly Now – Jimmy Cliff
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KSuB4t3q_dA
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wdJwFd4jv9w
   https://www.tekstowo.pl/jimmy-cliff/i-can-see-clearly-now

6. Beautiful Morning – Ace of Base
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=61Ur4d-iQq0
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A6KW5hC_ZKA
   https://www.tekstowo.pl/ace-of-base/beautiful-morning

 

 

 

 

MATERIAŁY PRZYGOTOWAWCZE DLA KL. VII i VIII

 EDYCJA JESIENNA 2026

OPOWIADANIE DLA KL. VII i VIII
Opowiadanie jest takie samo w obu edycjach danego roku szkolnego (jesiennej i wiosennej).   

Good Things

“You’ll have a really exciting time,” Dad said while Alice was packing her bag.

Alice looked up and smiled. “You’d better be right.”

“I usually am,” Dad said with a laugh. “Just look for the good things.”

 “Hurry up!” Mum called from downstairs. “Campers are only being admitted until six today.”

Soon Alice was sitting in the back of her parents’ car. The sky was getting darker and darker.

When the car finally stopped outside the camp gates, it started to rain.

 “Thanks,” Alice said, picking up her bag. “I can manage from here.”

“Have fun!” Mum called after her.

“And don’t forget,” Dad added with a smile, “look for the good things.”

“I will!” Alice waved and walked towards the old building.

“What a shabby place,” she thought.

Inside, it wasn’t much better. The entrance hall was full of noisy teenagers. Some girls were laughing loudly while a group of boys were shouting silly jokes across the hall.

“It’s supposed to rain all the time,” a voice cried.

“Miss Gloom doesn’t like to go out anyway,” another voice shouted.

“Oh, so we’ll be able to roll down the stairs.” There was a roar of laughter.

“Rolling down the stairs? Really?” Alice thought. “Does anyone our age really think that’s funny? Is this supposed to be a really exciting time?”

Then Dad’s words came back to her, and she wondered, „What good things can there be here?”

She looked around and noticed a girl standing alone near the entrance. She was holding her rucksack tightly.

„Maybe talking to her is the good thing.” Alice smiled and walked over to the girl.

„Hi. Is this your first camp?”

„Yes… I think so… I mean… I’m not sure if I’ll stay.”

“Oh, that’s a pity,” said Alice.

The girl’s eyes lit up for a moment. „I… I don’t really like noisy people.”

„Me neither. By the way, I’m Alice.”

„I’m Lily,” she said. „I don’t like noise, but I’m fond of walking barefoot in the rain.”

“Wow! Sounds interesting. Maybe you’ll show me what’s so nice about walking barefoot in the rain.”

„OK. Tomorrow?”

“Great.”

The girls shared a room. That night, they were talking for hours.

As Miss Gloom was walking along the corridor, she could hear voices coming from their room.

“Oh, really?”…“Me too!” …“Fantastic!” … “Let’s do it!”

The next morning the girls ran to see Miss Gloom. They talked for a while.

Then Miss Gloom smiled. „Yes,” she said. „That’s a great idea. It will be easy to involve some others. Some girls dream of becoming actresses. And the boys will stop dreaming about rolling down the stairs at last.”

„So we’ll need a curtain, some costumes and a few decorations,” said Lily.

„Sure, but first we need a story,” Alice replied.

„Let’s try the camp library.”

After looking through dozens of books, Lily suddenly exclaimed, „Look at this!”

Alice took the book Time Games and leafed through it. „Perfect! Most teens love stories like this.”

And this is the story they chose for their play.

***        ***          ***        ***        ***        *** 
Time Games

I watched Jack Longshanks lift his sword and beat another dwarf.

“Yes! Excellent, Jack Longshanks,” I said as another ten points flashed onto my screen.

I was getting stronger every time I played. The quest to find the key was more difficult than I imagined, but that was why the game was so good.

“Adam?”

Oh no, now what?

“Adam!” It was my eldest sister Lucy. She burst into my room.

“Dinner’s ready.”

“Yeah, well, I’ll come down when I’ve finished this game.”

She shook her head and went out of the room.

“Hey, what’s going on?” I couldn’t believe it!

I took my eyes off the screen for a few seconds and Jack wasn’t there. He was now moving off in a completely different direction towards the castle all by himself. I pressed the right keys and made him run north again.

After dinner I told my mum that I was going out for a walk.

“Don’t forget to study for your exams,” she said.

“Yeah, yeah! I know!”

It was still sunny when I went out.

One thing I really like is the village where I live. I’ve lived in Castleton since I was born. In summer the countryside always makes me feel free, like I’ve got nothing to worry about.

There’s an enormous oak tree in our village. It has a strange double trunk and has been known as The Tree for years.

I walked towards the square in the centre of the village. The square was almost empty. The only person there was a funny-looking boy in strange clothes standing near the old castle ruins.

I knew I should go home and study, so I turned round and walked back home. When I got there, I didn’t want to study any more.

There are some pretty awful teachers in my school. They give us about a million pages of homework a week.

The next day I had a two-hour history lesson and knew that Miss Simms, or „Simbo” as everyone called her, wasn’t going to be happy. She always says, „Have you done your history essay, Adam Smith?”

Of course I always answer, „Yes, Miss. Sorry. I left it at home. I’ll bring it tomorrow.”

I know she never believes me and she knows that I know it too.

Simbo has even paired me with Chloe Roberts for our history project. I couldn’t stand the way Chloe seemed to know absolutely everything.

Nobody noticed when I got home. I went into the kitchen and found Dad eating cold spaghetti.

 “Alright, Adam?”

“Alright, Dad!”

We looked at each other and he smiled. “Did you have a nice day at school today, son?”

“No,” I said. “I never do. I’m going upstairs now. See you.”

I switched on my computer and saw there was a problem with the game.

When I tried to get Jack onto the screen, another man appeared. His name was written at the bottom: Lord Greenstone. I tried to move him but he ignored me and just went where he wanted.

“Come on, Jack, where are you?”

Then I saw Jack. I couldn’t understand it at first because Jack was my character. I had invented him myself. I chose his name, his skills, even his haircut. But now he was banging his fist on the castle door… all by himself.

Characters in computer games only move when you tell them to. But Jack wasn’t listening to me any more.

I watched as he left the castle door, turned round and started speaking to Greenstone. They stood shouting at each other and it seemed to be something really serious.

What was going on?

And then I heard a voice. I know you’ll think I’m mad… I thought I was mad. Was the voice coming from the computer, from the garden outside or from my own head? I couldn’t understand the words, but I was sure it was Jack’s voice. I thought I was just tired, so I tried to forget it.

I didn’t sleep well that night. Things didn’t get any better when I got to school.

The first person I saw outside the gates was Chloe Roberts. “Have you done your history essay?” she asked.

“And what’s it got to do with you?”

She smiled. “I finished mine last week.”

“So Simbo will be pleased with you, Miss Know-it-all Roberts! When you…” I didn’t finish the sentence.

I looked over her shoulder and saw a boy staring at me. We were all wearing school uniform, so he stood out immediately. He was wearing a long cloak… in summer! I couldn’t understand why nobody else seemed to notice him.

As we walked into the school, I realised the boy was still there.

The day passed with all my usual empty promises and lies.

When the bell finally rang at half past three, I ran as fast as I could to the gate. Nobody was there, so I went home feeling disappointed.

Everything at home was the same. Dad was eating another cold dinner. But for some reason I felt different. I wanted to write, so I sat at my computer and started my history essay.

I don’t know how long I stayed at my desk writing, but finally I rolled onto my bed, still dressed, and fell asleep.

This is what I dreamt.

I was running through a forest. It was night time and I felt cold. I was dressed like someone out of a film.

“Quick, Master. This way!”

I turned and saw a boy waiting for me.

“Follow me, quick.”

There was something familiar about him and I followed. We ran through the trees and finally into a space in front of a castle. There was an enormous wall around it and the huge wooden gate was shut.

The boy looked at me. “Thank you, Master. Thank you for coming to help.”

“Help? Sorry… do I know you?”

I looked at him more closely. He was dressed the same way as me and even looked a bit like me.

“Jack?”

“Yes, Master!”

I looked around the forest and the castle. It was all familiar.

 “Come on,” I laughed. “Let’s go and beat some dwarves!”

But Jack didn’t move. “That’s not what you’ve come for, Master.”

“What do you mean? And stop calling me Master. My name’s Adam.”

“Adam. We must find the key before it is too late.”

“The key to the game?”

“No, Adam. There are no dwarves. You invented the dwarves. It’s Greenstone. We must get past Greenstone’s men.”

His face started to disappear and I woke up.

I was really confused, but I had other things to think about. I quickly had a shower, changed my clothes and had breakfast.

“See you,” I shouted to nobody in particular, and ran out of the door. After two minutes I remembered my history homework and ran back to the house to print it. It was going to be one of those days when everything went wrong.

I’d never had a dream like that before. The images were so clear that they were almost real. And I kept thinking about what Jack had told me.

We need to find the key. Did he mean the key to the castle? I didn’t know.

Just then, as I was walking past The Tree, I suddenly realised something. It was exactly the same tree as the one in my game.

I know what you’re thinking: a tree is a tree. They all look the same, don’t they? But The Tree had a strange double trunk that opened like a big letter V.

My heart stopped for ten whole seconds! You didn’t need to be a genius to work it out. The tree was the same and the ruins were in exactly the same position as the castle in the game.

Castleton was the same place as in my computer game!

Suddenly I saw everything in a completely different way. I understood exactly where the great castle gate should be and ran to the spot. All I could think about was Jack telling me we needed to find the key.

I suddenly remembered my history project about the old castle. But finding the key was much more important.

I ran around the side of the ruins where there was a small fence to protect them. I jumped over it with my rucksack bouncing on my back. I dropped the rucksack and tore a hole in my school trousers, but at that moment I wasn’t interested in clothes.

I ran along the old wall to what had once been the castle entrance. In the game there was a big wooden gate, but now only the stones remained.

I don’t know why exactly, but I started walking towards a pile of stones. Somehow, I just knew it was the right place. I put my hand under one of the smaller stones and touched something cold. I pulled it out.

„Hey! You! What do you think you’re doing in there?”

I looked up and saw old Mr Wood. I panicked. I jumped over the fence and ran away.

I was late for school. My trousers were torn and I had left my rucksack with my history homework lying near the ruins. But I didn’t care.

In my pocket, my fingers closed round something much more important. The key!

I couldn’t believe it was real. But what was I supposed to do with it?

Mrs Johnson, the deputy head, was waiting by the main door. “Adam! Are you alright? Has something happened?”

“I’m alright, Miss. I fell over.”

She told me to go to the medical room, but instead I washed the mud off my face and went to my first lesson.

At lunch I ran to the library and found exactly what I was looking for on a computer.

Long ago Castleton belonged to the powerful Greenstone family. In 1377 Lord Jack Greenstone was imprisoned by his younger brother, Edmund the Terrible, who took the castle and its treasures for himself. Edmund became the new Lord and ruled the land in a cruel way. Legends said that Lord Jack Greenstone’s young son disappeared at the same time.

At last everything made sense. Edmund was the Lord Greenstone from my game – the one who was shouting at Jack! Edmund was Jack’s uncle, and Jack needed the key to free his father.

But what was I supposed to do?

Just then I heard Simbo’s voice. “Adam Smith! Why didn’t you bring me your history homework this morning?”

“I have done it, Miss…”

“So where is it?”

“Here in my ruck…” Then I remembered.

My rucksack was still lying near the castle ruins.

“You’re lying to me again. Give me your diary.”

I didn’t have that either.

Just then Chloe Roberts appeared. To my complete surprise, she smiled. „Here. I brought your bag. You left it behind this morning. I thought you might need it for your research.”

„I… but… how…?”

I took my essay out of my bag and handed it to Simbo.

When Simbo had gone, Chloe said, „After lunch you can tell me exactly what you were doing at the castle this morning. I saw you there with Mr Wood.”

She smiled and walked away.

I couldn’t wait for school to finish. As soon as the bell rang, I grabbed my bag and ran to the gate.

Jack was waiting for me.

“Jack! I found out about your uncle and your father. Is that why you need me?”

“Yes. I’m Jack Greenstone. My father has the same name. Longshanks is only my nickname. It means Long Legs.”

“That’s funny. People call me Long Legs too.”

For a moment it felt like having a brother.

Then Jack became serious.

“My father is very ill. Edmund’s men are looking for me because I am the true heir. You have the key, Adam. Only you can help me.”

“But why don’t you run away?”

“My father loves me more than life itself. I must do everything I can to save him.”

I thought of my own father and suddenly understood what he meant.

At that moment Chloe Roberts came out of the school gates.

“Hi, Adam!”

“Oh no,” I whispered.

“Your fair friend is here,” Jack said. “She will have to come with us.”

“You mean Chloe?”

“Yes,” Jack replied.

I stared at him in surprise.

„Look,” I said to Chloe, „I’ll explain everything later. I’m busy.”

„So, are you talking to yourself?”

„Chloe! I’m busy!”

She looked disappointed, so I apologised to her for being rude. „Thanks for bringing my bag,” I added.

„You’re welcome.”

Suddenly a rush of wind swept all three of us away. The world spun around.

When everything became quiet again, Jack, Chloe and I were standing in front of the enormous wooden castle gates.

Everything around us was strange. Jack grabbed my arm and pulled us through the busy streets until we reached a tavern. He led us into the stables beside it.

Chloe looked completely confused.

“Listen to me,” Jack said. “My father is imprisoned in the castle dungeon beneath us. Here we’re safe. Nobody can see you. Just as I was invisible in your world, you are invisible in mine. I’ll tell you where to go, but it will be up to you to save my father.”

Chloe looked at Jack. “Twins! You look like twins, Adam.”

I looked at Jack. She was right. He looked more than ever like my brother.

“Jack, do you know the way to the dungeon?”

“If you go past the oak tree into the market place, there is a small door next to the baker’s house. The guards won’t see you.”

I started towards the door.

“Wait!” Chloe stopped me. “That’s our tree. The Tree in Castleton!”

“I know. Come on!”

“But don’t you remember our history project? People say there’s a secret passage into the castle. I think the door Jack is talking about leads to it.”

“So let’s go,” I said.

We went past The Tree and into the market place. Nobody seemed to notice us. We found the door beside the baker’s house and went through the secret passage into the castle.

Chloe pointed at one of the guards. “Let’s follow him.”

We followed him down the stone steps. I kept feeling in my pocket to see if I still had the key. The guard disappeared.

Suddenly another man entered the room.

“It’s alright,” I said. “Nobody can hear us.”

The man turned. I couldn’t believe it. It was Mr Wood. He looked at me but didn’t seem surprised. He unlocked a heavy wooden door and led us inside.

A tired man with long hair and a long beard was lying on a wooden bed. “Jack?” he whispered.

“No, Sir. I’m Adam. Jack sent us. We’ve come to rescue you.”

The key unlocked his chains and we helped him to his feet.

“You must leave quickly,” Mr Wood said. “Take Lord Greenstone to safety.”

Jack’s father and Mr Wood shook hands, and we left the castle through the secret passage.

At last we reached the stable with Lord Greenstone. We owed that mainly to Chloe and our history project.

Then Chloe did something clever. She took a packet of blackcurrant sweets out of her school bag.

“Perhaps you need some vitamins,” Chloe said. “Keep these.”

“You are very kind, young Miss,” Jack’s father said.

A few moments later Jack and his father were together again.

Before we could say anything, the wind returned. Then Chloe and I were standing outside the school gates. We couldn’t believe it had really happened.

When I got home, I went upstairs and switched on my computer.

Jack Longshanks was running around the screen faster than ever. Edmund the Terrible was gone. The dwarves had disappeared.

“Sorry,” I said, and switched the game off. “I’ve got to finish my history project.”

Just then Dad came home.

“Alright, Dad?”

“Alright, Adam.”

“Did you have a nice day at work?”

“Not bad. What about you?”

“Good. Today was a good day.”

He smiled.

“Dad, we’ve got a match on Sunday. Would you like to come and watch me play?”

“I would like that very much, Adam.” Then he hugged me for the first time in years.

“Thanks, Dad,” I said.

***        ***        ***        ***        ***        *** 

After a few days of rehearsals and preparations, the big day finally arrived.

The hall was full. The campers’ families and people from the town came to watch the performance. On stage, the story of Adam and Jack came to life.

As the curtain came down, the audience stood up and applauded.

Alice and Lily looked at each other and smiled.

Before long it was time to say goodbye.

„See you soon,” said Lily.

„Definitely,” said Alice.

When Alice got into the car, Dad smiled and asked, „So, how was the camp?”

Alice smiled back. „Really great.”

∞ The end ∞
[Materiał własny; zawiera zaadaptowane fragmenty Time Games, Victoria Heward; wyd. Black Cat]

Słowniczek
(kolejność słów i wyrażeń zgodna z kolejnością ich występowania w tekście)

Zaleca się posłuchać wymowy nowych słów, np. w słowniku https://www.diki.pl/

will (’ll) – słówko pomocnicze używane przed czasownikiem do mówienia o przyszłości

You’d better… – lepiej, żebyś… / lepiej…
camper – uczestnik obozu
is/are being + 3. forma czasownika – konstrukcja używana, gdy mówimy o tym, co jest obecnie robione
be admitted – zostać wpuszczonym / przyjętym
in the back of a car – z tyłu samochodu
parents’ – rodziców (forma dzierżawcza liczby mnogiej)
manage – poradzić sobie
shabby – zaniedbany, obskurny
entrance – wejście
be supposed to do sth – mieć coś zrobić; mieć się wydarzyć
be able to do sth – móc / być w stanie coś zrobić
roll down the stairs – turlać się po schodach
roar of laughter – wybuch głośnego śmiechu
light up – rozświetlać; rozjaśnić się (np. o twarzy, oczach); light – lit – lit
me neither – ja też nie
be fond of sth / doing sth – bardzo lubić coś / bardzo lubić coś robić
barefoot – boso
share – dzielić (z kimś)
for hours – godzinami / przez wiele godzin
for a while – przez chwilę / jakiś czas
involve – zaangażować
curtain – kurtyna
dozens of – dziesiątki
exclaim – wykrzyknąć
leaf through sth – przekartkować, szybko przejrzeć
choose – chose – chosen – wybierać
play – tutaj: sztuka teatralna
lift – podnosić
beat – beat – beaten – pokonać
dwarf – krasnolud
flash onto the screen – pojawić się nagle na ekranie
quest – misja, wyprawa
eldest – najstarszy
burst into – tutaj: wpaść do (pomieszczenia)
shake – shook – shaken – potrząsać
take one’s eyes off sth – oderwać wzrok od czegoś
move off – ruszyć, oddalić się
direction – kierunek
all by himself – zupełnie sam, samodzielnie
press – naciskać
key – tutaj: klawisz
since – od; słowo używane z Present Perfect, gdy określamy, od jakiego momentu trwa dana czynność lub stan
countryside – tereny wiejskie
oak tree – dąb
trunk – pień
be known as – być znanym jako
for – od / przez; słowo używane z Present Perfect, gdy określamy, jak długo trwa dana czynność lub stan
turn round – odwrócić się
two-hour – dwugodzinny
essay – wypracowanie
pair sb with sb – połączyć kogoś z kimś w parę
can’t stand sth / doing sth – nie znosić czegoś / robienia czegoś; can’t – couldn’t
each other – siebie (nawzajem)
switch on – włączyć
appear – pojawić się
invent – wymyślić
bang one’s fist on sth – walić / uderzać pięścią w coś
have sth to do with sb/sth – mieć coś wspólnego z kimś/czymś
pleased with sb – zadowolony z kogoś
know-it-all – mądrala
stare at sb – wpatrywać się w kogoś
stand out – wyróżniać się
cloak – peleryna
empty promise – pusta obietnica
lie – kłamstwo; lie – lied – lied – kłamać (forma z -ing: lying)
feel disappointed – czuć się rozczarowanym
fall asleep – zasnąć; fall – fell – fallen
dream – dreamt – dreamt – śnić
be dressed like – być ubranym jak
follow sb – iść za kimś, podążać za kimś
familiar – znajomy, znajomo wyglądający
look like – wyglądać jak
mean – meant – meant – znaczyć, mieć na myśli
get past sb – przedostać się obok kogoś / ominąć kogoś
disappear – znikać
confused – zdezorientowany
in particular – w szczególności
print – drukować
keep thinking about sth – ciągle myśleć o czymś; keep – kept – kept
work sth out – zrozumieć coś / rozgryźć coś
spot – miejsce
fence – ogrodzenie
protect – chronić
bounce – podskakiwać, odbijać się
drop – upuścić
tear – tore – torn – drzeć, rozdzierać
be interested in sth – interesować się czymś
remain – pozostać
pile – stos, sterta
pull sth out – wyciągnąć coś
lie – lay – lain – leżeć (forma z -ing: lying)
deputy head – wicedyrektor / wicedyrektorka
fall over – przewrócić się
mud – błoto
belong to sb – należeć do kogoś
imprison – uwięzić
rule – rządzić
cruel – okrutny
free sb – uwolnić kogoś
leave sth (behind) – zostawić coś; leave – left – left
hand sth in – oddać coś
can’t wait – nie móc się doczekać
grab – chwycić
find out – dowiedzieć się; find – found – found
nickname – przezwisko
heir – dziedzic, spadkobierca
have to – musieć; have – had – had
look disappointed – wyglądać na rozczarowanego
apologise to sb for sth / doing sth – przeprosić kogoś za coś / zrobienie czegoś
rude – niegrzeczny
you’re welcome – proszę bardzo
rush of wind – podmuch wiatru
sweep away – porwać, zmieść; sweep – swept – swept
spin – spun – spun – wirować, obracać się
tavern – karczma
stable – stajnia
dungeon – loch
beneath – pod, poniżej
invisible – niewidzialny
be up to sb – zależeć od kogoś
twin – bliźniak / bliźniaczka
secret passage – tajne przejście
guard – strażnik
unlock – otworzyć kluczem
chain – łańcuch
rescue – ratować, uratować
help sb to one’s feet – pomóc komuś wstać
shake hands – uścisnąć sobie dłonie
owe sth to sb/sth – zawdzięczać coś komuś/czemuś
mainly – głównie
blackcurrant – czarna porzeczka
hug – przytulać, obejmować
rehearsal – próba
performance – przedstawienie, występ
come to life – ożywać, ożyć; come – came – come
audience – publiczność
applaud – klaskać, oklaskiwać
before long – wkrótce

SENTENCJE DLA KL. VII i VIII 

1. 1. Books are the ever-burning lamps of accumulated wisdom – Książki są wiecznie płonącymi lampami zgromadzonej mądrości.
   – George William Curtis
   
   
2. Reading is an exercise in empathy; an exercise in walking in someone else’s shoes for a while – Czytanie jest ćwiczeniem empatii; ćwiczeniem w stawianiu się przez chwilę na miejscu kogoś innego.
   – Malorie Blackman
   
   
3. A book is not complete until it’s read – Książka nie jest kompletna, dopóki nie zostanie przeczytana.
   – E. L. Doctorow
   
   
4. Imagination is the wings of the mind; the understanding, its feet – Wyobraźnia jest skrzydłami umysłu, a rozum – jego stopami.
   – James Russell Lowell
   
   
5. Some beautiful paths can’t be discovered without getting lost – Niektórych pięknych ścieżek nie można odkryć, nie zgubiwszy się.
   – Erol Ozan
   
   
6. Depth of friendship does not depend on length of acquaintance – Głębia przyjaźni nie zależy od długości znajomości.
   – Rabindranath Tagore
   
   
7. The greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places – Największe tajemnice są zawsze ukryte w najmniej prawdopodobnych miejscach.
   – Roald Dahl
   
   
8. The cure for boredom is curiosity. There is no cure for curiosity – Lekarstwem na nudę jest ciekawość. Na ciekawość nie ma lekarstwa.
   – Ellen Parr
   
   

9. I didn’t fail the test. I just found 100 ways to do it wrong – Nie oblałem testu. Znalazłem tylko 100 sposobów, by zrobić go źle.
   – Benjamin Franklin

10. Don’t cry because it’s over; smile because it happened – Nie płacz, że coś się skończyło; uśmiechnij się, że się wydarzyło.
    – Dr Seuss
    
    
11. Be yourself; everyone else is already taken – Bądź sobą; wszyscy inni są już zajęci.
    – Oscar Wilde

PIOSENKI DLA KL.VII i VIIII
Podane linki odsyłają do nagrań z dodanym zapisem słów piosenek oraz do ich tłumaczenia.

1. Have We Met Before? – Sarah Barrios & Eric Nam
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c8fXXyDfXKE
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xHqV2oBdqR4
   https://www.tekstowo.pl/piosenka,sarah_barrios__eric_nam,have_we_met_before.html

2. Storm – Victor Crone
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gkK_BZH_vfI
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1D2Wi9Tm7Xc
   https://www.tekstowo.pl/victor-crone/storm

3. You’re My Best Friend – Queen
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0X2ee2A2IGU
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YSju1JfGf4A
   https://www.tekstowo.pl/queen/you-re-my-best-friend

4. Jealousy, Jealousy – Olivia Rodrigo
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=17C5s6qZpZc
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fjZZ6CFZRlY
   https://www.tekstowo.pl/olivia-rodrigo/jealousy-jealousy

5. Until – Sting
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=33t2arE9G24
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jJzyMZIBuo8
   https://www.tekstowo.pl/sting/until

6. Courage to Change – Sia
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0U9iGANYM08
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jW7sKbPih8w
   https://www.tekstowo.pl/piosenka,sia,courage_to_change.html

7. Rather Be – Clean Bandit ft. Jess Glynne
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pdy6oDzW8Zg
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YP8rPfWojnk
   https://www.tekstowo.pl/clean-bandit/rather-be

 

 

MATERIAŁY PRZYGOTOWAWCZE
DLA  LICEUM i TECHNIKUM KL. I-II oraz SZKÓŁ BRANŻOWYCH KL. I-III

 EDYCJA JESIENNA 2026

OPOWIADANIE
DLA LICEUM i TECHNIKUM KL. I-II oraz SZKÓŁ BRANŻOWYCH KL. I-III
Opowiadanie jest takie samo w obu edycjach danego roku szkolnego (jesiennej i wiosennej).   

Getting It Wrong

„What horrible weather,” Ava said, shaking her umbrella by the front door.

„Then you’ll enjoy my cinnamon rolls even more,” Philip’s grandma said.

I knew she would find something positive even in such gloomy weather. She always does.

Maybe that was one of the reasons I loved our get-togethers at Philip’s grandma’s so much. We didn’t do anything special. We talked, drank tea and ate the delicious things Philip’s grandma baked for us. We often read stories together.
Her house was full of books and, best of all, she had read them all. Even the most ordinary remark could turn into a fascinating discussion. Or it could remind her of a story from one of the books on her shelves. I always left these get-togethers with a wonderful feeling that was difficult to describe. I felt happier, full of new energy and, somehow, a little wiser.
I had been looking forward to this one since our last visit.

I looked around. Everyone was there except Philip. „Where’s Philip?” I asked.

„He’s never late,” Matilda added.

As if in answer, the doorbell rang.

A moment later Philip appeared in the doorway, soaking wet.

„Come in and get dry,” his grandma said.

Soon he was sitting with us in a dry jumper, holding a cup of hot tea.

„A man got off my bus with an umbrella exactly like mine,” Philip explained. „I was sure he’d taken mine, so I ran after him.”

„And?” Matilda asked.

“It was his. Mine was still on the bus – and the bus was already driving away.”

We all laughed.

“Don’t worry, Philip,” his grandma said. “There’s someone who’s much better at getting things wrong than you are.” She paused. „That reminds me of a story…”

Now we knew another good story was coming – and probably a funny one this time.

***        ***        ***        ***        ***        ***
The Double Eagle Has Landed

There was just one question I had to ask myself. How could I have ended up dangling from a flagpole, twelve storeys above a street in North London, with an armed man walking towards me, a dog snapping at my fingertips, and the world’s worst detective clinging to my ankles? Actually, a second question came to mind. What was I going to do next?

It had all started earlier that same day. It was a cold, rainy Tuesday in January. Rain was pouring through the roof of my brother Tim’s office into a bucket beside his desk. The bucket looked happier than Tim.

Tim Diamond called himself a private detective. That was what it said on his business card … at least, it did if you ignored the spelling mistakes. He was a twenty-five-year-old man, dark-haired and quite good-looking … provided you didn’t look too closely. He was almost twice my age, but sometimes it was hard to tell which of us was the older brother.

 He had once been a policeman, but in three years he had never solved a single crime. Once, he put together a composite sketch of a bank robber, and the police spent the next six months looking for a bald man with no nose and three eyes.

Now he had his own detective agency. The truth was, he wasn’t very clever. But somehow he still managed to get a few cases.

I had been living with Tim since my parents had moved to Australia. We never had much money.

It was my first week back at school and I was in a bad mood. My uniform was getting too small and everyone seemed to have new gadgets except me.

As I climbed the stairs that Tuesday afternoon, I heard voices. Then I realised that the miracle of Christmas had finally happened, even if it was a few weeks late. Tim had a client!

I let myself in and sure enough, there was my big brother, leaning across his desk with the wobbly half-smile he used when he was trying to look professional. The man sitting opposite him was big and fat. My first thought was that I hoped he’d chosen the right chair. He had ginger hair, a round face and a big smile. He was wearing a crumpled suit and leather gloves. It seemed strange that he hadn’t taken them off. He was smoking a cigarette. He needed to see a doctor or an undertaker … it was just a question of which one would get to him first.

Tim saw me come in. He was obviously in a good mood because he didn’t try to throw me out.

„This is Mr Hollywood,” he said.

„Underwood,” the man corrected him. „My name is Charles Underwood. And who are you?”

„I’m Nick Diamond,” I said. „I’m his brother.”

„Mr Thunderwood needs a private detective,” Tim explained. „He was just saying that he needs someone reliable and responsible … someone who isn’t afraid of danger.”

„Then what’s he doing here?” I asked.

Underwood ignored my question. „I have an office in Clerkenwell,” he said. „I buy and sell gold, mainly old coins. Right now I have a Double Eagle in my safe worth five million pounds.”

Tim’s mouth dropped. „Your safe is worth five million pounds?”

„No. The Double Eagle is worth five million pounds.”

„What? And it’s guarding the coins?”

„The Double Eagle is the gold coin, Mr Diamond. It was made in America in 1933 and it’s incredibly rare. It arrived from Chicago yesterday. Now I’ve had a tip-off that someone is planning to steal it. That’s why I need a private detective.”

„Why don’t you just move the coin?” I asked.

„It’s too risky. Someone could attack me and steal it. The coin is safer where it is.”

„In the safe,” Tim muttered. „But is it a safe safe?”

„It has a thirty-digit code. The office is protected by a sophisticated alarm system and the building has been guarded day and night since the coin arrived. But here’s the problem. The man in charge of security, Harry King, is planning to rob me. He’s going to break in at midnight tonight.”

„How do you know?” I asked.

„I checked him out and found several disturbing pieces of information about him. For one thing, he spent three years in prison.”

„He was a guard?” Tim asked.

„No. He was a prisoner. The other day I overheard him talking on his mobile phone. I heard him say he’d go in at twelve tonight. He said he would get it and hand it over tomorrow.”

„How do you know he was talking about the coin?”

„I don’t. I can’t be certain. That’s why I haven’t gone to the police. Let’s call it a hunch. I just don’t think he adds up.”

„He’s bad at maths?” Tim asked.

„Anyway,” Underwood went on, „he was standing outside the building with his Alsatian, talking on the phone.”

„Wait a minute,” Tim interrupted. „How could the dog talk on the telephone?”

„King was the one talking,” Underwood growled. „I want you to go to the building tonight. I’ll give you a key-card. Follow King and see what he gets up to. If he goes anywhere near my office, call me or call the police. Tomorrow morning I’m selling the coin. I just need to be sure it’s still there.”

„All right, Mr Slumberwood,” Tim said. „I’ll do it. But it’s going to cost you seventy pounds.”

„I’ll pay you twice that.”

„Okay. A hundred and twenty pounds it is.”

„I’ll give you the money tomorrow.”

Underwood got to his feet and I almost felt the chair sigh with relief. He slid an electronic key-card onto the desk. „This will get you into the building. The House of Gold is on St John Street. You can’t miss it.”

„Why is that?” Tim asked.

„Well … it’s got 'House of Gold’ written on the front door.”

„Good.”

„And make sure Harry King doesn’t spot you! I don’t want him to know we’re onto him.”

„I’m the invisible man,” Tim said. „Everyone who sees me calls me that!”

Underwood was about to leave, but before he went he did something very strange. He picked up the cigarette butts and slid them into his top pocket. Why would he do something like that? He didn’t look like the sort of man who was interested in keeping the place clean. Of course, Tim hadn’t even noticed. He was already imagining the money he was going to be paid the next day. And that worried me too. If Underwood had a five-million-pound coin to sell, how come he couldn’t afford even a five-pound down payment now?

„Tim,” I said, once he’d left, „I’ve got a bad feeling about this.” I knew we were in for trouble.

„Relax, kid!” Tim winked at me. „This case is right up my street.”

Yeah. The street to the loony bin, I thought. But I didn’t say that. „I’m not so sure I trust Underwood,” I went on. „That story he told you … the security guard talking about the robbery on his phone. Don’t you think that’s a bit unlikely?”

„Not really. Lots of security guards have phones.”

„I mean, talking about a robbery when he can be overheard! Also, Underwood didn’t pay you. And he told you to ring him if anything happened, but he didn’t give you a number!”

„Look, Nick,” Tim interrupted. „It’s a simple job.”

„Okay,” I said. I knew I was going to regret this but I felt I had no choice. „But I’m going too.”

„Where are you going to?” Tim asked.

„I’m coming with you, Tim.”

„Forget it, Nick. No way. Absolutely not. No chance.”

„So when do we leave?” I asked.

Tim nodded. „As soon as it’s dark.”

The House of Gold might have had a fancy name, but it was just an ordinary office building. It was twelve storeys high with a flagpole sticking out below the roof. As I looked up at it, I never imagined that half an hour later I’d be clinging to the flagpole with Tim hanging onto my ankles. Maybe that’s my problem. I just don’t have enough imagination.

We let ourselves in using Underwood’s card and, to be honest, part of me was surprised that it even activated the doors. I’d thought it was going to be as fake as him. We found ourselves in a reception area with an empty reception desk and a list of names on the wall. Underwood’s name was there next to office 1205. That surprised me too. Charles Underwood hadn’t looked like a coin dealer to me. Everything about him had smelled wrong … even his aftershave.
There was no sign of Harry King or his dog, but that was just as well. I had no desire to get arrested or bitten … and who knows? If he’d seen us, Harry might have done both.
Tim was wearing black jeans, a black sweater, and a black balaclava covering his face. Frankly, he looked more like a burglar than a private detective and more like an Alpine skier than either. I was still wearing my school clothes. Tim had a flashlight, but the batteries were dead. Half of me wished we hadn’t come and the other half agreed.
„There’s a lift!” Tim waved his flashlight in the direction of a corridor.

 „Forget it, Tim,” I said. „We can’t risk it.”

„What? You think it might break down?”

„No. But somebody might notice it moving. Let’s take the stairs.”

We found the staircase and climbed all twelve floors. I counted every step. At the top, a pair of solid-looking doors looked more like the entrance to a vault than an office.

„Tim …” I began. „I’m not sure you should open these doors.”

„Why not?”
Tim pushed the doors open. At once, alarms rang throughout the building. A recorded voice shouted, „Intruder Alert! Intruder Alert!” Somewhere, a dog started howling. Searchlights lit up the windows, blinding us. In the distance, police sirens began to wail.

„Do you think the doors are alarmed?” Tim asked.

I grabbed him and pulled him back towards the stairs. We had to get out fast. If the police arrived, how were we going to persuade them that we weren’t trying to rob the place ourselves? But then I heard the howling below us. A moment later, the biggest dog I had ever seen came bounding up the stairs.
It was huge, with powerful muscles and a mouth full of teeth. Behind it came a black, bald security guard built like a wrestler. I guessed he had to be Harry King. They were both heading straight for us.

„This way, Tim!” I shouted.
We rushed through the double doors. It was too late to worry about the alarm now. „Intruder Alert!” the voice kept shouting. We had got the message. The police were getting closer too. I was already wishing I’d stayed at home. I’d left two hours of French homework behind, but even that would have been more fun than this.

We found ourselves in a long corridor with offices on both sides. What was I looking for? Another staircase. A lift. A fire escape. A helicopter with its engine running. Anything to get us out of there.
„In here!” Tim had found a door and rushed through it. With typical brilliance, he had chosen the gents’ toilet. I waited for him to come out again. At that moment, the double doors burst open and the dog came charging through. Tim threw something at it, and that distracted it for a few seconds. Meanwhile, I found another door leading to a staircase. We took it.

The staircase led onto the roof. We ran across it, hoping to find another way down.

Then two things happened at once. The dog burst through the door we’d just used. Foam poured from its mouth and its eyes looked wild. At the same time, Harry King appeared. He pointed something at us.

„It’s a gun!” Tim shouted.

To be fair to him, he was trying to protect me. I mention this only because he nearly killed me. Thinking Harry was about to fire, Tim rugby-tackled me. The only trouble was that there was no ground. We were standing right on the edge of the roof, and in trying to save me, my big brother had just thrown me over it. I was falling towards a twelve-storey drop, with Tim coming with me. Part of me was glad we were together at the very end. It seemed an unusually stupid way to die, even by Tim’s standards. I’d have hated to do it on my own.

But we didn’t die. I grabbed the flagpole, and Tim grabbed me. That’s how we ended up dangling in the air like a pair of comedians in an old black-and-white film.

I didn’t think I’d be able to hold on for more than thirty seconds. My hands felt as though they were being pulled off my wrists. Then Harry King leaned over the edge. The dog was with him. But neither of them was trying to kill us.

„Hold on!” Harry shouted.

He grabbed my wrist. Inch by inch, he pulled me up, with Tim hanging below me. My fingers found the edge of the roof, and Harry pulled me the rest of the way. He was panting with the effort. The dog was still foaming at the mouth, but now it was wagging its tail. This was all very strange. We weren’t being chased any more – we were being saved.

I felt solid ground beneath me as Harry pulled me onto the roof. A moment later, Tim was safe too. Down below, I could hear police cars arriving. Somehow I knew it was almost over. But I still didn’t know what had really happened.

„Are you okay?” Harry asked.
He wasn’t carrying a gun after all. What Tim had seen was a walkie-talkie.

„Thanks,” I muttered.

„Who are you? What are you doing here?”
Before I could answer, the police arrived and arrested us.

Later, we discovered that the man who had called himself Charles Underwood wasn’t the real Underwood. The real Charles Underwood came to see us. While Harry King and the police had been chasing us, the fake Underwood had broken into office 1205 and stolen the Double Eagle.

It took me five or six attempts to explain everything to Tim. The fake Underwood had used us as a diversion. We’d triggered the alarms and led everyone onto the roof while he emptied the safe and escaped. Once Tim finally understood, he swore he’d known all along that something was wrong.

Harry King had never been in prison, and his dog, Lucy, didn’t have rabies. The foam around her mouth came from a bar of soap that Tim had thrown at her. So Tim needn’t have been so terrified of her after all.

The thief was never caught. He had worn gloves, taken away his cigarette butts and left no fingerprints or DNA. He had chosen the stupidest detective in London – and Tim had walked straight into his trap.

A happy ending? Well, I was still alive. I hadn’t fallen twelve storeys or been eaten by the dog. I had even grown fond of Lucy. And that was good enough for me.

***        ***        ***        ***        ***        ***

„Priceless!” Ava said.

„Tim is definitely my new hero.” Matilda laughed. „I know someone who did something a little similar.”

Everyone instinctively looked at Philip. He didn’t seem offended. Quite the opposite – he looked rather pleased. Perhaps all he’d heard was „my new hero”.

Philip had a secret crush on Matilda. And we all secretly knew.

By then, the rain had stopped, so we went out into the garden for a while. I stayed outside a little longer than the others. When I joined them, they were already having a lively discussion about something completely different.
„It’s easy to say money doesn’t matter when you have enough of it,” Ava was saying.

We all looked at Philip’s grandma, expecting her usual „That reminds me of a story…”

But she only smiled and reached for a book on the shelf.

Great! We were eager to read another story.

***        ***        ***        ***        ***        ***
Mammon and the Archer

Old Anthony Rockwall, who earned millions of dollars by making and selling Rockwall Soap, stood at the library window of his mansion. As usual, his aristocratic neighbour glanced disapprovingly at the house before getting into his motor-car.
„I’ll have this house painted red, white and blue next summer,” muttered the Soap King. “We’ll see how he likes that.”
Anthony, who never used a bell to call a servant, went to the library door and shouted, „Mike! Tell my son to come here before he leaves the house.”

When Richard entered, the old man laid aside his newspaper.

„Richard,” he asked, „what do you pay for the soap you use?”

Richard had been home from college for only six months. He had not yet learned to understand his father’s unexpected questions.
„About six dollars a dozen, Dad.”

„And your clothes?”

„About sixty dollars, I suppose.”

„Good,” said Anthony. „You’re a gentleman. You have as much money to throw away as anyone else, but you stick to what’s decent and moderate. I still use Eureka Soap because it’s the best. People say it takes three generations to make a gentleman. They’re wrong. Money can do it much faster. It has made you a gentleman – and almost made one of me.”

Richard smiled faintly. „There are some things that money can’t accomplish,” he said.

Anthony looked shocked.
„Don’t say that! I bet my money on money every time. I’ve been through the encyclopaedia down to Y, looking for something money can’t buy, and I still haven’t found it. Tell me one thing money can’t buy.”

Richard sighed.
„There’s something else,” said Anthony, more gently. „You’ve looked worried for two weeks. Let me help you. In twenty-four hours I could have eleven million dollars here in my hands. Are you sick?”

„Some people call it a sickness.”

„Oh,” said Anthony. „What’s her name?”

Richard began to walk up and down the library.

„Why don’t you ask her to marry you?” Anthony said. „You’ve got money, good looks and you’re a decent fellow.”

„I haven’t had a chance,” said Richard.

„Make a chance,” said Anthony. „Take her for a walk in the park or walk home with her from church.”

„You don’t know the life of a rich girl, Father. Every hour and minute of her time is planned. I must have her or the world is worth nothing to me.”

„Do you mean to tell me,” said the old man, „that with all my money you can’t get an hour or two of a girl’s time?”
„I’ve waited too long to tell her how I feel. She’s going to Europe the day after tomorrow. I’m allowed to see her alone tomorrow evening for only a few minutes. I’m going to meet her at the station and take her to the theatre, where she must meet her mother and some other people.”

Richard paused for a moment before he went on.

„Do you think she would listen to me on the way to the theatre? Or in the theatre? Or afterwards? Of course not. This is one trouble that your money can’t help with. We can’t buy one minute of time with money. If we could, rich people would live longer. There’s no hope of talking to Miss Lantry before she sails.”

„Richard, my boy,” said old Anthony, „you say money won’t buy time. Perhaps it won’t buy all of time, but I’ve seen it buy some little pieces.”

That evening Anthony’s sister Ellen came to see him.

„He told me all about it,” said Anthony. „I told him he could have all the money he wanted. Then he began to say that money was no use to him. He said money couldn’t help.”

„Oh, Anthony,” said Ellen, „I wish you wouldn’t think so much of money. Money is no help for love. Love is all-powerful. If he had only spoken to her earlier, she could never say no to our Richard. But now I fear it is too late. All your gold cannot buy happiness for your son.”

At eight the next evening, Ellen took an old gold ring and gave it to Richard.

„Wear it tonight,” she said. „Your mother gave it to me. She believed it brought good luck in love. She asked me to give it to you when you had found the girl you loved.”

Richard slipped the ring into his pocket and called for his cab.

At the station Richard met Miss Lantry.

„We mustn’t keep my mother and the others waiting,” she said.

„To Wallack’s Theatre as fast as you can drive,” Richard told the cab driver.

They drove along Forty-second Street to Broadway and then to Thirty-fourth Street.

There Richard asked the driver to stop.

„I dropped the ring,” he said, getting out. „It was my mother’s and I don’t want to lose it. This will only take a minute. I saw where it fell.”

Soon he was back in the cab with the ring.

But during that minute a wagon had stopped in front of the cab. The cab driver tried to pass it, but more vehicles blocked the way. They were trapped in a huge traffic jam and couldn’t move.

„Why don’t you drive on?” asked Miss Lantry. „We’ll be late.”

Richard stood up and looked around. Cabs, wagons and other vehicles were coming from every direction. More and more vehicles became trapped. Drivers shouted, but nobody could move.

„I’m very sorry,” said Richard as he sat down again. „We can’t move. They won’t clear it for an hour. If I hadn’t dropped the ring…”

„Let me see the ring,” said Miss Lantry. „Since we can’t hurry anyway, I don’t care. I didn’t want to go to the theatre. I don’t like the theatre.”

At eleven that night someone knocked at Anthony’s door.

It was Ellen.

„They’re going to be married, Anthony,” she said. „She has promised to marry our Richard. On their way to the theatre their cab was stopped in the street. It was two hours before they could move again.”

She smiled and continued, „Oh, Brother Anthony, don’t ever talk about the power of money again. It was a little ring, a symbol of true love that helped our Richard find happiness. He dropped it in the street and had to get out and find it. Before they could continue, their cab was caught among the others. He told her of his love there in the cab. Money is nothing, and true love is everything.”

„I’m glad the boy got what he wanted,” said old Anthony. „I told him I didn’t care how much money…”

„But, Brother Anthony, what could your money do?”

„Sister,” said Anthony, „I’m reading a pirate story, and I’d like to find out what happens next.”

The story should end there. I’m sure you, too, wish it would. But we must go on to the truth.

The next day, a man named Kelly came to Anthony Rockwall’s house.

„I gave you five thousand dollars yesterday,” said Anthony.

„I paid out three hundred more of my own money,” said Kelly. „It cost more than I expected. Most of the extra money went to the policemen. But didn’t it work beautifully, Mr Rockwall? They were all on time, and it was two hours before anyone could move.”

„Thirteen hundred – there you are, Kelly,” said Anthony, giving him the money. „A thousand for you and the three hundred of your own money that you had to spend.”

Anthony stopped Kelly at the door.

„Did you see anywhere in the street yesterday a little fat boy with no clothes shooting arrows with a bow?”

Kelly looked surprised. „No, I didn’t. But if he was like that, perhaps the police caught him.”

„I thought Cupid wouldn’t be there,” said Anthony, laughing. „Goodbye, Kelly.”

***        ***        ***        ***        ***        ***

For a moment, none of us said anything.

„So money helped,” Philip said. „It gave him a chance to tell her how he felt. But love was already there.”

He glanced at Matilda. She was looking at him too.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a small, chubby boy with a bow and arrow at the open window. He was aiming the arrow straight at Matilda.

∞ The end ∞
[Materiał własny; zawiera zaadaptowane fragmenty The Double Eagle Has Landed, Anthony Horowitz (The Guardian) oraz Mammon and the Archer, O. Henry; wyd. Doubleday, Page & Company.]

Słowniczek
(kolejność słów i wyrażeń zgodna z kolejnością ich występowania w tekście)

Zaleca się posłuchać wymowy nowych słów, np. w słowniku https://www.diki.pl/

get sth wrong / get it wrong – pomylić się, źle coś zrozumieć
such – taki, taka itp. (stosowane przed rzeczownikiem lub rzeczownikiem poprzedzonym przymiotnikiem)
gloomy – ponury, posępny
get-together – spotkanie towarzyskie
remind sb of sth – przypominać komuś coś
had been doing + since – używamy, aby wskazać, od jakiego momentu trwała dana czynność w przeszłości
look forward to sth – czekać na coś z radością / niecierpliwością
soaking wet – kompletnie przemoczony, przemoczony do suchej nitki
end up doing sth – ostatecznie znaleźć się w jakiejś sytuacji / skończyć robiąc coś (często nieplanowanego)
dangle – zwisać, dyndać
flagpole – maszt flagowy
snap at sb/sth – kłapać zębami na kogoś/coś
cling to sth – trzymać się kurczowo czegoś; cling – clung – clung
actually – właściwie, tak naprawdę
pour – lać (np. o deszczu)
bucket – wiadro
business card – wizytówka
twenty-five-year-old – dwudziestopięcioletni
provided – pod warunkiem że, o ile
twice sb’s age – dwa razy starszy od kogoś
composite sketch – portret pamięciowy
case – sprawa (np. detektywistyczna)
let oneself in – wejść samemu, otwierając sobie drzwi
wobbly – 1. niepewny 2. chwiejny
crumpled – pognieciony, wymięty
undertaker – pracownik zakładu pogrzebowego
reliable – godny zaufania, niezawodny
tip-off – poufna informacja, cynk
mutter – mruknąć
sophisticated – zaawansowany, skomplikowany
has/have been + III forma + since – coś jest robione od określonego momentu w przeszłości
be in charge of sth – odpowiadać za coś, kierować czymś
break in – włamać się
check sb out – sprawdzić kogoś, zebrać informacje o kimś
disturbing – niepokojący
information – informacje;  a piece of information – informacja
for one thing – po pierwsze, chociażby
overhear – przypadkiem usłyszeć / podsłuchać
hand sth over – przekazać coś, oddać coś
hunch – przeczucie
add up – mieć sens, wydawać się wiarygodnym
growl – warknąć, warczeć
get up to sth – robić coś (zwłaszcza coś podejrzanego / niewłaściwego)
sigh with relief – odetchnąć z ulgą
spot sb/sth – zauważyć, dostrzec kogoś/coś
be onto sb – przejrzeć kogoś, wiedzieć, co ktoś knuje
cigarette butt – niedopałek papierosa
afford sth – móc sobie na coś pozwolić
down payment – zaliczka
be in for sth – czekać kogoś coś, mieć przed sobą coś (zwykle coś nieprzyjemnego)
be right up sb’s street – być dokładnie w czyimś guście / być czymś idealnym dla kogoś
loony bin – dom wariatów, wariatkowo (potocznie)
stick out – wystawać
aftershave – woda po goleniu
just as well – i dobrze / całe szczęście
balaclava – kominiarka
flashlight (AmE) – latarka (= torch BrE)
break down – zepsuć się
vault – skarbiec
howl – wyć
searchlight – reflektor
blind sb – oślepić kogoś
wail – wyć, zawodzić
bound – pędzić / biec susami
fire escape – schody przeciwpożarowe / wyjście ewakuacyjne
distract sb – odwrócić czyjąś uwagę
foam – piana
be able to – móc / być w stanie; would be able to – tutaj: móc / być w stanie w przyszłości z perspektywy przeszłości
as though – jak gdyby
was/were being + III forma – coś było właśnie robione
wrist – nadgarstek
pant – dyszeć
still – nadal, wciąż
walkie-talkie – krótkofalówka
attempt – próba
It takes sb several attempts to do sth – ktoś potrzebuje kilku prób, żeby coś zrobić
explain sth to sb – wyjaśniać coś komuś
diversion – odwrócenie uwagi
trigger sth – uruchomić, wywołać coś
swear – swore – sworn – przysięgać
rabies – wścieklizna
sb needn’t have + III forma – ktoś niepotrzebnie coś zrobił
trap – 1. pułapka 2. uwięzić
be fond of sb/sth – bardzo lubić kogoś/coś
grow fond of sb/sth – bardzo polubić kogoś/coś; grow – grew – grown
priceless – bezcenny; tu: przezabawny
offended – urażony
quite the opposite – wręcz przeciwnie
have a crush on sb – podkochiwać się w kimś
mansion – rezydencja
glance – spojrzeć, zerknąć
disapprovingly – z dezaprobatą
lay aside sth – odłożyć coś na bok; lay – laid – laid
stick to sth – trzymać się czegoś, przestrzegać czegoś
decent – przyzwoity
moderate – umiarkowany
accomplish sth – osiągnąć coś, dokonać czegoś
bet sth on sth – postawić coś na coś
slip sth into sth – wsunąć coś do czegoś
Cupid – Kupidyn, rzymski bóg miłości
chubby – pulchny, pyzaty

 

SENTENCJE
DLA LICEUM i TECHNIKUM KL. I-II oraz SZKÓŁ BRANŻOWYCH KL. I-III 

1. Life is lighter with a heavy bookshelf – Życie jest lżejsze z ciężkim regałem pełnym książek.
   – Piotr Kowalczyk
   
   
2. Reading is escape, and the opposite of escape – Czytanie jest ucieczką i zarazem przeciwieństwem ucieczki.
   – Nora Ephron 
   
   
3. Books let us into their souls and lay open to us the secrets of our own – Książki wpuszczają nas do swoich dusz i odsłaniają przed nami tajemnice naszych własnych.
   – William Hazlitt
   
   
4. In life, unlike chess, the game continues after checkmate – W życiu, inaczej niż w szachach, gra toczy się dalej po szach-macie.
   – Isaac Asimov
   
   
5. You can read one chapter and take a rest, or you can read one chapter and read the rest – Możesz przeczytać jeden rozdział i odpocząć albo przeczytać jeden rozdział i przeczytać resztę.
   – Piotr Kowalczyk
   
   
6. The cure for boredom is curiosity. There is no cure for curiosity – Lekarstwem na nudę jest ciekawość. Na ciekawość nie ma lekarstwa.
   – Ellen Parr
   
   
7. Some beautiful paths can’t be discovered without getting lost – Niektórych pięknych ścieżek nie można odkryć, nie zgubiwszy się.
   – Erol Ozan
   
   
8. Be yourself; everyone else is already taken – Bądź sobą; wszyscy inni są już zajęci.
   – Oscar Wilde
   
   
9. Life is a miscellaneous collection of things we planned and things that happened instead – Życie to różnorodny zbiór rzeczy, które zaplanowaliśmy, i rzeczy, które wydarzyły się zamiast nich.
   – Unknown
   
   
10. Honest criticism is hard to take, particularly from a relative, a friend, an acquaintance or a stranger – Trudno przyjąć szczerą krytykę, szczególnie od krewnego, przyjaciela, znajomego lub nieznajomego.
    – Franklin P. Jones
    
    
11. It is impossible to enjoy idling thoroughly unless one has plenty of work to do – Nie da się w pełni cieszyć bezczynnością, jeśli nie ma się mnóstwa pracy do zrobienia.
     – Jerome K. Jerome 

PIOSENKI 
DLA LICEUM i TECHNIKUM KL. I-II oraz SZKÓŁ BRANŻOWYCH KL. I-III
Podane linki odsyłają do nagrań z dodanym zapisem słów piosenek oraz do ich tłumaczenia.

1. Dream as One – Miley Cyrus
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4mGa3AcCoR8
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3-E2x_m_ha0
   https://www.tekstowo.pl/miley-cyrus/dream-as-one

2. I Heard It Through the Grapevine – Marvin Gaye, Creedence Clearwater Revival
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cXWHpbpNdHE
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IS0tZ95SaB8
   https://www.tekstowo.pl/marvin-gaye/i-heard-it-through-the-grapevine

3. Have We Met Before? – Sarah Barrios & Eric Nam
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c8fXXyDfXKE
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xHqV2oBdqR4
   https://www.tekstowo.pl/piosenka,sarah_barrios__eric_nam,have_we_met_before.html

4. Spread Your Wings – Queen
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X3gi2kqluCw
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dzir0Ef_6hU
   https://www.tekstowo.pl/queen/spread-your-wings

5. Until – Sting
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=33t2arE9G24
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jJzyMZIBuo8
   https://www.tekstowo.pl/sting/until

6. Water Under the Bridge – Adele
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lSTPn86J7PM
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5yLRrcR-Mc8
   https://www.tekstowo.pl/piosenka,adele,water_under_the_bridge.html

7. Ka-Ching! – Shania Twain
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uj41c2EBo8c
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rojiNPmlu6I
   https://www.tekstowo.pl/shania-twain/ka-ching

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

MATERIAŁY  PRZYGOTOWAWCZE 
DLA  LICEUM KL. III i IV  oraz TECHNIKUM KL. III – V

 EDYCJA JESIENNA 2026

OPOWIADANIE 
DLA  LICEUM KL. III i IV oraz TECHNIKUM KL. III – V
Opowiadanie jest takie samo w obu edycjach danego roku szkolnego (jesiennej i wiosennej).   

Beneath the Surface

“Where to?” the taxi driver asked as I got in.

I gave him Joan’s address. “And please get there as fast as you can,” I added.

For the first few minutes, everything was fine. Then the taxi slowed down and finally stopped. There was a long line of cars ahead of us.

“A traffic jam,” the driver said. “Nothing we can do.”

I looked at my phone. “Can’t you go round it?”

“Only if I drive on the pavement.”

“Do it. I’ll pay the fine if the police stop us.”

He looked at me in the mirror. “It must be urgent.”

“It is. Very urgent.”

A few minutes later, still driving on the road rather than the pavement, we finally reached Joan’s building. I paid and jumped out.

“Good luck!” the driver called after me.

As soon as I rang the bell, Joan opened the door. I spotted tears in her eyes.

“Let me guess,” I said. “A touching story this time?”

Whenever Joan came across a story she really loved, she couldn’t wait to share it with me at once. She would call and tell me to come over as soon as possible. That was what I loved most about her – her eagerness to share every great story with me. And her passion for reading – and rereading.

We went inside and sat down to read the story together.

***        ***        ***        ***
One Thousand Dollars 

“One thousand dollars,” repeated Lawyer Tolman solemnly. “And here is the money.”

Young Gillian laughed as he touched the small package of money.

“It’s such an awkward amount,” he said. “With ten thousand dollars, you can really have fun. Even fifty dollars is less of a problem.”

“You heard the reading of your uncle’s will,” continued Lawyer Tolman. “I don’t know if you paid much attention to its details. I must remind you of one. As soon as you have spent this thousand dollars, you are required to give us a written account of exactly HOW you spent it. I trust that you will respect the late Septimus Gillian’s wishes.”

“You may depend upon it,” said the young man politely.

Gillian went to his club. There he looked for Old Bryson.

Old Bryson was forty and calm and preferred to be left alone. He was reading in a corner, and when he saw Gillian approaching, he sighed, laid down his book and took off his glasses.

“Old Bryson, wake up,” said Gillian. “I’ve a funny story to tell you.”

“I wish you would tell it to someone else,” said Bryson. “You know how I hate your stories.”

“This is a better one than usual,” said Gillian. “I’ve just come from my late uncle’s legal firm. He left me a thousand dollars. Now, what can a man possibly do with a thousand dollars?”

“I thought,” said Old Bryson, showing as much interest as a bee shows in vinegar, “that your uncle was worth something like half a million.”

“He was,” agreed Gillian, “and that’s where the joke comes in. He left part of it to the man who discovers a new type of bacteria and the rest to establish a hospital for doing away with it again. His nephew got a thousand dollars.”

“You’ve always had plenty of money to spend,” observed Old Bryson.

“Tons,” said Gillian. “My uncle was very generous with me.”

“Any other heirs?” asked Old Bryson.

“None.” Gillian frowned uneasily. “There is a Miss Hayden, a ward of my uncle, who lived in his house. She’s a quiet girl. She got a seal ring and ten dollars. Now tell me, Old Bryson, what can a fellow do with a thousand dollars?”

Old Bryson rubbed his glasses and smiled. Gillian knew that when Old Bryson smiled, he intended to be more offensive than ever.

“A thousand dollars,” he said, “means much or little. One man may buy a happy home with it. Another could send his wife on holiday with it and save her life.”

“People might like you, Old Bryson,” said Gillian, always unruffled, “if you wouldn’t moralise. Then recommend something to me.”

“You?” said Bryson with a gentle laugh. “Why, Bobby Gillian, there’s only one logical thing you could do. You can go buy the little actress, Miss Lotta Lauriere, a diamond pendant.”

“Thanks,” said Gillian, rising. “I thought I could depend upon you, Old Bryson. I wanted to spend the money in a lump sum. I hate itemising every little expense.”

Gillian left the club and called a cab.

A few blocks down Broadway, Gillian saw a blind man sitting on the pavement selling pencils. He got out of the cab and stood before him.

“Excuse me,” he said, “but would you mind telling me what you would do if you had a thousand dollars?”

“Take a look at that, if you like,” said the blind man. He drew a bank deposit book from his coat pocket and held it out. It showed a total of $1,785.

Gillian got back into the cab. “I forgot something,” he said. “Drive to the law offices of Tolman and Sharp.”

Back at the office, Tolman looked at him severely through his glasses.

“I beg your pardon,” said Gillian cheerfully, “but may I ask you a question? Was Miss Hayden left anything by my uncle’s will besides the ring and the ten dollars?”

“Nothing,” said Mr Tolman.

“Thank you very much, sir,” said Gillian. Soon he was at his late uncle’s home.

Miss Hayden was writing letters in the library. She was small and slender and dressed in black. But you would have noticed her eyes. Gillian drifted in, looking as if he regarded the whole world as inconsequential.

“I’ve just come from old Tolman’s,” he explained. “They found a”—Gillian searched his memory for a legal term—“a postscript or something to the will. It seems that my uncle left you a thousand dollars. Tolman asked me to bring you the money. Here it is.” Gillian laid the money on the desk.

Miss Hayden turned white. “Oh!” she said, and again, “Oh!”

Gillian half turned and looked out of the window.

“I suppose, of course,” he said, in a low voice, “that you know I love you.”

“I’m sorry,” said Miss Hayden, taking up her money.

“So there is no hope for us?” asked Gillian, almost lightheartedly.

“I am sorry,” she said again.

“May I write a note?” asked Gillian with a smile. She gave him paper and a pen.

Gillian made out his account of the thousand dollars in these words:

 Paid by the black sheep, Robert Gillian, one thousand dollars on account of the eternal happiness owed by heaven to the best and dearest woman on earth.

He slipped his writing into an envelope, bowed and went his way.

His cab stopped again at the offices of Tolman and Sharp.

“I have spent the thousand dollars,” he said cheerfully. He tossed a white envelope on the lawyer’s table. “You will find there an account, sir, of the vanishing of the dollars.”

Without touching the envelope, Mr Tolman called his partner, Mr Sharp. They opened the large safe and took out a sealed envelope. After reading its contents, Tolman turned to Gillian.

“Mr Gillian,” he said formally, “there was a supplement to your uncle’s will. It was given to us privately, with instructions not to open it until you had given us a full account of how you spent the thousand dollars.”

“Mr Sharp and I are to be the judges. If the way you spent the money was prudent, wise or unselfish, we are authorised to give you fifty thousand dollars. But if you have spent it foolishly, the fifty thousand dollars will be paid to Miriam Hayden. Now, Mr Gillian, we have no choice but to examine your account.”

Mr Tolman reached for the envelope, but Gillian was quicker. He slowly tore the account and its envelope into strips and put them into his pocket.

“It’s all right,” he said with a smile. “There’s no need to bother you with this. I lost the thousand dollars on the horse races. Good day, gentlemen.”

Tolman and Sharp shook their heads mournfully at each other when Gillian left, for they heard him whistling cheerfully in the hallway as he waited for the lift.

***        ***        ***        ***        ***        ***        ***        ***

When we finished, Joan still looked touched.

“Imagine giving up fifty thousand dollars for someone you love,” she said. “And making sure she never knows what you did for her.”

I smiled. She was right. Still, I couldn’t help thinking that Gillian’s reasons had been a little more complicated at first. He had wanted to spend the thousand dollars in a lump sum, after all. But I didn’t want to spoil Joan’s version of the story. I liked it too much.

I pointed to another book on the table. “What about this one?”

Joan’s face brightened. “Oh, this one’s really funny. Have you got a few more minutes, Matt?”

“Of course.”

***        ***        ***        ***        ***        ***        ***        ***
The Blurred Man

I knew the American was going to mean trouble the moment he walked in. It took him three attempts to get through the door. It was eleven o’clock in the morning, but clearly he’d been drinking since breakfast. The smell of whisky was so strong it made my eyes water.

He managed to find a seat and slumped into it. He was quite smartly dressed, in an expensive-looking suit and tie.

“My name is Carter,” he said at last in an American accent. “Joe Carter. I just got in from Chicago. And I’ve got a problem.”

“I can see that,” I muttered.

“Who are you?” he demanded.

“I’m Nick Diamond.”

“I’m looking for a private detective.”

“That’s him over there,” I said, indicating my big brother, Tim.

“You want a coffee, Mr Carver?” Tim asked.

“It’s not Carver. It’s Carter. With a ‘t’.”

“I’m out of tea. How about a hot chocolate?”

“I don’t want a hot anything! I want help. I want to hire you. What do you charge?”

Tim stared. Somebody was offering him money, which didn’t happen often.

Tim had once been a policeman (and had never solved a single crime), but as a private detective he had been a total calamity. I’d helped him solve one or two cases. Right now, he had just seven pence left in his bank account.
I coughed and Tim jerked upright in his chair, trying to look businesslike.

“You need a private detective? Fine. That’s me. It’ll cost you fifty pounds a day, plus expenses.”

Carter offered him five hundred dollars.

“Five hundred dollars!” Tim squeaked. The last time he’d had that much money in his hand, he’d been playing Monopoly.

 “Now let me tell you my problem,” Carter said. “I’m a writer, Mr Diamond. You may have read some of my books.”
That was unlikely – unless he wrote children’s books.

“I’m pretty well-known in the States,” Carter continued. “I make a lot of money, but I believe in sharing it around. A couple of years ago I heard of a charity here in England called Dream Time. It helps kids get more out of life.”

Carter glanced at me. “You’re under eighteen, aren’t you, son?”

“Yes,” I said.

“I bet you make wishes sometimes.”

“Yes. But unfortunately Tim is still here.”

“Dream Time would help you. They make wishes come true. I gave them two million dollars. Most of all, I believed in the man behind Dream Time. His name was Lenny Smile.”

I noticed that Carter was talking about Smile in the past tense.

“Lenny had started Dream Time and worked for it seven days a week. He spent almost nothing on himself.”

“So what’s the problem, Mr Starter?” Tim asked. “You want your money back?”

“Hell, no! Over time, I grew really fond of Lenny. I felt like I’d known him all my life. Recently, I decided we ought to meet.”

“You’d never met him?”

“No. We were pen pals. We exchanged letters and e-mails, but we never even spoke. I wrote to Lenny and told him I was coming. He was going to meet me at Heathrow Airport.”

“How would you know what he looked like if you’d never met?” I asked.

“I asked him to send me a photograph.”

He reached into his jacket and handed me a photograph. It showed a man standing in front of the Café Debussy, but it was completely out of focus. I could just make out a man in a full‑length coat, gloves and a hat, but his face was a blur. There was a cat sitting on the pavement between his legs, and the cat was easier to make out than he was.

“It’s not a very good picture,” I said.

“I know. Lenny was a very shy person. He hated publicity. Anyway, meeting him was going to be the biggest moment of my life. But when I got to Heathrow, Lenny wasn’t there. He was buried the day before I arrived,” Carter said.

“Buried?” Tim exclaimed. “Why?”

“Because it was his funeral, Mr Diamond! He was dead. And that’s why I’m here. I want you to find out what happened.”

Carter explained that he had gone to the offices of Dream Time, where he had met Lenny’s two assistants, Rodney Hoover and Fiona Lee. They told him that just a few days after he had e‑mailed Lenny about his visit, Lenny had been killed in a horrible accident.

“He got run over,” Carter said. “Hoover and Lee actually saw it happen. If they hadn’t been there, the police wouldn’t even have known it was Lenny.”

 “Why is that?”

“Because he was run over by a steamroller.” Carter shuddered. “He was flattened. He was buried last week at Brompton Cemetery.”

“This guy Rodney Hoover tells me he’s winding down Dream Time,” Carter went on. “But I think something strange is going on.”

“What exactly do you think is strange?” Tim asked.

 “You don’t think there’s anything unusual in a guy getting run over by a steamroller? It happens in the middle of the night, just a few days before he’s due to meet someone who’s given him two million dollars. And now the charity he set up is suddenly shutting down!”

“Why wasn’t he in bed at night?” Tim asked.

“I don’t know. But I think he was murdered. Maybe somebody didn’t want us to meet.”

“Don’t worry, Mr Carpark,” Tim said. “I’ll find the truth.”

After lunch we went by bus to Brompton Cemetery. It took us about an hour to find Smile’s grave. It had been recently dug, and there were fresh flowers everywhere. I read the gravestone:

LENNY SMILE
APRIL 31st 1955 – NOVEMBER 11th 2001
A WONDERFUL MAN, CALLED TO REST.

I noticed a card attached to the biggest bunch of flowers on the grave. It was signed in green ink: With love, from Rodney Hoover and Fiona Lee.

There was a man watching us from behind one of the taller gravestones. Something about him seemed familiar. I could make out a full-length coat, gloves and a hat, but not his face from that distance. And that was when I realised. I knew exactly where I’d seen him before.

I started running towards him. At that moment he turned and hurried away. I reached the main path and sprinted towards the gates, but when I got out onto Old Brompton Road, the man had disappeared.

A moment later, Tim was at the gate. “What is it, Nick?” he asked.

I looked up and down the pavement. There was nobody in sight. Had I imagined it? No. I was certain. The man I had seen in Joe Carter’s photograph had been in the cemetery less than a minute ago. Once I’d spotted him, he had run away.

If it was Lenny Smile that I had just seen, then who was buried in the grave?

We began our search for Lenny Smile the next day – at the Battersea offices of the charity he had created.

Dream Time’s headquarters were above the Café Debussy, in the middle of a row of half-derelict shops. It was hard to believe that a charity worth millions of pounds could operate from such a small, shabby place.

But the inside of Dream Time was something else. There were thick carpets, several cumbersome pieces of furniture and framed pictures of smiling children from around the world.

At last a door opened and Fiona Lee walked in. She was tall and slim, with her dark hair tied back in a vicious bun. Her make-up and clothes were perfect. Everything about her was perfect.

“Good morning,” she said in a very posh accent. “My name is Fiona Lee.”

We introduced ourselves and followed her into an office where Rodney Hoover was sitting behind a desk. He was wearing an old-fashioned suit that was too small for him and glasses that were too big. I noticed his teeth. The last time I’d seen teeth like that, they’d been in a dog.

“This is Tim Diamond, Mr Hoover,” Fiona said. “He telephoned this morning.”

 “I have some questions,” Tim said. “About a friend of yours called Lenny Smile.”

Both Rodney Hoover and Fiona Lee froze. Fiona went pale.

“Why are you asking questions about Lenny?” she asked.

“Because if I ask, people give me answers,” Tim replied. “I’m a private detective.”

There was an ugly silence. I had to say that it suited Rodney Hoover.

“Lenny is dead,” he said. “You know very well that he’s lying there in Brompton Cemetery. What could you possibly want to know about him?”

“I’d be interested to know exactly how he died. I understand you were there.”

“We were there,” Fiona said. “Poor, poor Lenny! It was the most horrible moment of my life.”

“I don’t suppose it was a terrific moment for him either,” I muttered.

She ignored me. “It was about eleven o’clock. Mr Hoover and I had gone to see Lenny and tell him how the charity was progressing. When we left, Lenny came downstairs with us.”

“He was a little ahead of us,” Fiona continued. “Lenny stepped into the road. The steamroller was going too fast and ran over him.”

Then Hoover turned to Tim. “But who hired you to ask these questions about Lenny Smile?”

“I never reveal the names of my clients,” Tim replied. “Joe Carter wants to remain anonymous.”

“Carter!” Hoover muttered. “I could have guessed this. He came here asking questions too. In no way was Lenny’s death suspicious, Mr Diamond. It was an accident. We know because we were there! Who would wish to kill him?”

“Maybe he had enemies,” Tim said.

“Everybody loved Lenny,” Fiona replied. “All he did was give away money and help young people.”

“What else can you tell us about him?” I asked. “Where did he live?”

“He rented a flat in Welles Road. Number seventeen. Lenny liked to be on his own.”

“Why?”

“Because of his allergies.”

“What was he allergic to?” I asked.

“Many things,” Hoover replied. “Chocolate, peanuts, animals, insects… You can tell your ‘anonymous’ client, Mr Carter, that he should go back to Chicago. And now I think you should leave.”

We left. I was certain Hoover had told me something he hadn’t meant to, but I couldn’t remember what it was.

Rodney Hoover and Fiona Lee had given us both the creeps. We both looked very carefully before we crossed the road.

At least Fiona had given us Smile’s address, so that was where we went next.

Lenny had lived at 17A Welles Road. We rang the bell, but there was no answer, so we tried the flat next door.

“Who is it?” a woman’s voice asked over the intercom.

“We’re friends of Lenny Smile,” I shouted before Tim could come up with a story of his own.

Soon, we were standing outside 17B. “Mr Smile is dead!” an old woman announced.

“Who are you?” Tim asked.

“My name’s Lovely.”

“I’m sure it is,” Tim agreed. “But what is it?”

“I told you, dear. Lovely! Rita Lovely! I live next door to Mr Smile. Or at least… I used to.”

“Have you moved?” Tim asked.

“No! Mr Smile is the one who’s moved. All the way to Brompton Cemetery!”

“Mr Smile was my hero,” I said. “He saved my life. I had a rare disease and he paid for my medicine. I never got a chance to thank him. I thought if I could at least see where he lived…”

That softened her. “I’ve got a key. I was his neighbour for seven years and used to look after the place for him when he was away. I’ll let you in, just for a few minutes.”

Smile’s flat was small, neat and impersonal. It told us nothing about the person who had lived there.

“How often did you see Mr Smile?” I asked.

“I never saw him,” Tim replied.

“I know, Tim. I’m asking Mrs Lovely.”

“I hardly ever saw him,” she said. “He kept himself to himself. Although I was here the night he got run over.”

“Did you see what happened?”

“Not really. But I did see him go out. There were two people with him. They seemed to be helping him down the stairs.”

“Helping him?”

“One on each side of him. A man and a woman…”

That would have been Rodney Hoover and Fiona Lee.

“Then I heard a terrible noise. I looked out of the window and saw the two of them and the driver of the steamroller.”

“Were there no other witnesses?” I asked.

“Just a balloon-seller on the other side of the road – a man with a beard and many balloons.”

“Is there anything else you can tell us about Lenny Smile?” I asked.

“Not really. It’s true I hardly ever saw him, but he was a gentleman. Look at the note he slipped under my door for my ninety-first birthday last week.”

I was surprised. She looked nearly half her age.

She produced a crumpled sheet of paper. There were a couple of lines written in green ink:

Dear Mrs Lovely, I hope you have a lovely birthday.
L.S.

 I thought there was something strange about it, something that didn’t quite add up.

“Now that he’s gone, I’ll really miss him,” Mrs Lovely said.

How could she miss him when she had hardly ever met him? And why had Lenny Smile taken so much care not to be seen?

The next day we were no nearer to finding the truth about Lenny Smile. Why had Hoover and Fiona half-carried him downstairs? Had he been drunk? Or drugged? And was Lenny Smile really dead?

I was looking through the newspaper when an advertisement for a circus in Battersea Park caught my eye. There was a picture of a man selling balloons.

“Look at this, Tim!” I exclaimed. “Don’t you remember what Mrs Lovely said? There was
a balloon-seller near Lenny’s flat when he was killed. Maybe he works for the circus.”

That evening we went to the big top in Battersea Park, hoping to find the balloon-seller.

The show was about to begin when suddenly I froze. There was a man sitting in the front row, wearing a dark coat, a hat and gloves. His face was blurred, but I recognised him at once.

It was the man from Brompton Cemetery. The man in the photograph at the Café Debussy. Lenny Smile!

“Quick!” I exclaimed.

But the man had already got up and slipped out of the tent. We hurried after him and searched among the caravans. Lenny Smile – if that was who it was – had disappeared.

But there was another dead man in Battersea Park that night.

I saw the balloons first. There were more than fifty of them inside one of the caravans. The balloon-seller was lying on the floor with something silver beside his hand.

“Don’t touch it, Tim!” I warned.

Too late. Tim had already picked it up. It was a knife. And then somebody screamed.

Within moments, circus performers had gathered around us. They stared at Tim holding a knife beside a man who had just been murdered.

“I didn’t kill him!” Tim exclaimed.

Unfortunately, nobody seemed to believe him.

“Let’s go, Tim!”

Tim dropped the knife and we ran. The performers chased us across the park.

Suddenly a car appeared, speeding across the grass. No sooner had it stopped beside us than a door swung open.
“Get in!” someone said. I recognised the voice.

“Are you a taxi?” Tim asked.

“It doesn’t matter what it is, Tim. Just get in!”

We jumped onto the back seat. A moment later the car was racing away, leaving Battersea Park behind us.

“Well, well, well. This is a very nasty surprise. The Diamond brothers!”

The driver was Detective Chief Inspector Snape. He had taken us directly to his office at New Scotland Yard. He had once employed Tim as a police constable, and they had never exactly been friends. Snape was a big, solid man with small blue eyes and a suit that looked as if it was about to burst. His assistant, Detective Superintendent Boyle, was with him. Short and fat with curly black hair, Boyle looked more criminal than a criminal.

“What I want to know,” Snape began, “is what the two of you were doing at the circus tonight. Why were the performers trying to kill you?”

“They thought it was us who had killed the balloon-seller,” I said.

“That’s an easy enough mistake to make when you two are involved.” Snape smiled mirthlessly. “It won’t be easy to convince them of your innocence.”

“But why were you interested in him?”

“We’re working for a man called Joe Carter.”

“He thinks Lenny Smile was murdered,” Tim added.

Snape nodded. “Of course Smile was murdered. And it was the best thing that ever happened to him. If I wasn’t a policeman, I’d have been tempted to murder him myself.”

Tim stared. “But he was a saint!”

“He was a crook! Lenny Smile was the biggest crook in London! Boyle and I had been investigating him for months – and we were about to arrest him when he went under that steamroller.”

“You mean he stole the charity’s money?” I asked.

“Exactly. Millions of pounds that should have gone to children went into his own pocket. And when he did spend money on them, he bought everything cheap – including X-ray machines that could only see halfway through. I already had a police officer watching his flat. We were just going to arrest him – but then he got killed.”
“Suppose he isn’t dead,” I said.

Snape shook his head. “There were too many witnesses. Mrs Lovely saw him leave the flat. Hoover and Lee were with him. There was the driver. And the balloon-seller.”

“Mrs Lovely didn’t actually see the accident. I don’t trust Hoover and Lee. And now someone has killed the only other witness. I think the balloon-seller saw what really happened. That’s why he was killed.”

“Who by?” Snape demanded.

“By Lenny Smile!”

There was a long silence.

“You have little evidence to support that theory,” Snape replied.

 “You said you had a policeman watching his flat?” I asked.

Snape nodded. “Henderson. He disappeared just before the accident.”

“Smile knew the police were closing in on him, and Joe Carter was coming to England. So Smile had to disappear. He faked his own death. We’ve seen him twice!”

“Where?”

“At the cemetery and at the circus. I can’t be sure it was Smile, but he looked like the man in Carter’s photograph.”

“We don’t know much about Smile,” Snape admitted. “Henderson only saw him once. We know when he was born and when he died. But that’s about all.”

“He didn’t die. Dig up the coffin and you’ll probably find it’s empty!”

Snape looked at Boyle, then back at me. Slowly, he nodded.

“All right, laddy. Let’s play it your way. But if you’re wasting my time… it’s your funeral!”

“There was no funeral,” I said. “Lenny Smile isn’t dead.”

“Let’s find out…”

There’s one place you don’t want to be just after midnight on a cold November night – and that’s in a cemetery.

Snape, Boyle, Tim and I stood with several police officers as two workmen dug up Lenny Smile’s grave.

The digger stabbed down. Then there was a clunk – metal hitting wood. Two of the workmen climbed into the hole and cleared away the rest of the soil. Boyle lowered himself into the hole. A moment later, he passed something up to Snape. It was dark blue, with a silver disc in the middle. It was a police constable’s helmet. But one that had been flattened.

“Henderson!” Snape muttered.

“Don’t you see, Tim? Henderson, the policeman who had been watching Smile’s flat, was killed. Not Lenny Smile!”

Later, we were back at our Camden flat.

“But what about Hoover and Fiona Lee? They were there when it happened,” Tim said.

For once, Tim was right. They must have been part of it. The man they had helped down the stairs must have been Henderson. He had been drugged and thrown into the road.

Suddenly I realised how clever Smile had been. He had run Dream Time, stolen the money and remained virtually invisible.

“Nobody knew him,” I said. “Mrs Lovely hardly ever saw him. Joe Carter only wrote to him. We went to his flat and it was like he’d never actually lived there.”

Tim sighed. “Joe Carter had this big idea about Lenny Smile, but he was someone else!”

Suddenly, it hit me. “What did you just say?”

“I’ve forgotten.”

“Someone else! That’s exactly the point!”

There had been so many clues. The note in the cemetery. The card Lenny had sent Mrs Lovely. The gravestone. The photograph outside the Café Debussy… Only now did it all come together.

The following morning, I made two telephone calls. Then Tim and I set out for the final showdown. It was time to meet Lenny Smile.

One of the calls was to Fiona Lee. “This is Nick Diamond. Remember me? I want to meet Lenny Smile.”

A pause. “That’s not possible. Lenny Smile is dead.”

“You’re lying. You know where he is. I want to see the three of you: Hoover, Lenny and you. Eleven o’clock at the London Eye. And if you don’t want me to go to the police, you’d better not be late.”

It was raining heavily when Tim and I arrived at the London Eye. Rodney Hoover and Fiona Lee were already waiting for us. There was no sign of Lenny Smile, but I wasn’t surprised. I had known he would never show up.

“Why are you calling us?” Hoover demanded. “We don’t know where Lenny is! As far as we know, he’s dead.”

“Why don’t we get out of the rain?” I suggested. “How about the wheel?”

We bought tickets and climbed into a pod. There were only the four of us inside. The doors slid shut and slowly we were carried up into the sky.

“Lenny was killed by the steamroller,” Fiona said. “And it is Lenny buried in the cemetery.”

“No, it isn’t,” I said. “Lenny Smile is right here now. Inside this pod.”

“Is he?” Tim looked under the seat. “I don’t see him!”

“That’s because you’re not looking in the right place, Tim. Lenny Smile never existed. He was a fantasy.”

I turned to Hoover and Fiona. “Nothing about him added up. Look at the gravestone. It said that he was born on 31st April 1955. But there are only thirty days in April.”

“It was a mistake,” Fiona muttered.

“Maybe. But there was something else. In the photograph Carter showed us, Lenny was standing with a cat between his feet. You told us he was allergic to animals. The allergy business was a lie. It gave him a reason not to be seen.”

“So there was no Lenny Smile!” Tim exclaimed.

“That’s right. Except when Hoover pretended to be him. He rented the flat and occasionally went there to make it look as if someone lived there. It was also Hoover who wrote the note to Mrs Lovely.”

“How do you know?” Tim asked.

“It was written in green ink. The message on Lenny’s grave was also written in green ink – and it was the same handwriting. And it was Hoover we saw at the cemetery and at the circus.”

“Why would we invent a man called Lenny Smile?” Fiona demanded.

“Because the two of you were stealing millions from Dream Time. You knew the police would eventually catch up with you. So you invented Lenny Smile – someone who could take the blame and then disappear.”

“Henderson must have discovered what was going on. You killed him and made everyone believe he was Lenny. As far as you were concerned, that was the end of the matter. Lenny Smile was dead and there was nobody left to investigate.”

Hoover smiled.

“You have it exactly right,” he said. “Fiona and I are nobodies. We were just working for Lenny Smile. He is the real crook. And nobody has any proof.”

His hand slid into his coat pocket. When it came out, he was holding a gun.

“He’s got a gun!” Tim squealed.

“That’s right, Tim.”

We had reached the top of the wheel. Suddenly Hoover fired. The glass door smashed and the rain came rushing in.
“An unfortunate accident!” Hoover shouted. “The door broke. You and your brother fell out.”

“No, we didn’t!” Tim whimpered.

“It won’t work, Hoover,” I said. “Take a look in the next pod.”

Fiona went to the window. “It’s full of policemen!” she exclaimed. “And the one below us! That’s full of police too!”
“It must be their day out!” Tim said.

“You’ve been set up, Hoover,” I said. “Every word you’ve said has been recorded.”

Hoover tightened his grip on the gun. And that was when a police helicopter appeared outside the broken window.

“Put the gun down, Hoover!” Snape’s voice came from the helicopter.

Hoover turned and fired at it.

I threw myself at him. He fired again, but his aim had gone wild. Then he crashed into the window and slid to the floor.

A few minutes later, the pod reached the ground and the police arrested Hoover and Fiona.

“We’d better go to the Ritz,” I said. Before Tim could ask a stupid question, I added, “To see Joe Carter.”

The American was still waiting to hear about his best friend, Lenny Smile. I wasn’t looking forward to breaking the bad news to him. Maybe I’d leave that to Tim.

After all, discreet was his middle name.

***        ***        ***        ***        ***        ***        ***        ***

We were both still smiling as I looked at the books on the table.

“They aren’t from the library this time, are they?”

“No. I got them as a present.”

“Who from?”

Joan smiled. “I can’t tell you. Robert wanted to remain anonymous.”

∞ The end ∞
[Materiał własny; zawiera zaadaptowane fragmenty One Thousand Dollars, O. Henry; wyd. Black Cat oraz The Blurred Man, Anthony Horowitz; wyd. Walker Books.]

Słowniczek
(kolejność słów i wyrażeń zgodna z kolejnością ich występowania w tekście)

Zaleca się posłuchać wymowy nowych słów, np. w słowniku https://www.diki.pl/

pavement – chodnik
pay the fine – zapłacić mandat
come across sth – natknąć się na coś
eagerness – zapał, entuzjazm
solemnly – uroczyście, poważnie
awkward – kłopotliwy, niewygodny
will – testament
remind sb of sth – przypominać komuś o czymś / przypominać komuś coś
be required to – być zobowiązanym do
written account – pisemne sprawozdanie / rozliczenie
the late sb – śp. / zmarły
heir – spadkobierca
ward – podopieczny / podopieczna
seal ring – sygnet
unruffled – niewzruszony, spokojny
recommend sth to sb – polecić coś komuś
pendant – wisiorek
in a lump sum – jednorazowo, w jednej kwocie
itemise – wyszczególniać
bank deposit book – książeczka bankowa / oszczędnościowa
severely – surowo, z dezaprobatą
lay – laid – laid – kłaść, położyć
lightheartedly – beztrosko, lekko
make out sth – 1. sporządzić, wypisać coś 2. dostrzec, rozpoznać coś z trudem
on account of – z powodu / z tytułu
owe sth to sb – być winnym coś komuś
supplement – uzupełnienie, aneks
prudent – rozsądny, roztropny
be authorised to – być upoważnionym do
have no choice but to – nie mieć innego wyjścia, jak tylko
mournfully – ze smutkiem, żałośnie
blurred – niewyraźny, rozmazany
It takes sb several attempts to – potrzeba komuś kilku prób, żeby
had been doing + since – czynność, która trwała od określonego momentu w przeszłości
slump – opaść, osunąć się
calamity – katastrofa, kompletna porażka
expenses – wydatki, poniesione koszty
grow fond of sb/sth – bardzo polubić kogoś/coś
steamroller – walec drogowy
shudder – wzdrygnąć się, zadrżeć
wind down sth – stopniowo ograniczać / wygaszać działalność czegoś
headquarters – główna siedziba, centrala; dowództwo
derelict – opuszczony, zaniedbany
cumbersome – nieporęczny, niewygodny w użyciu
a piece of furniture – mebel
lie – lay – lain – leżeć; forma ciągła: lying
in no way was it… – w żaden sposób / w żadnym razie nie było to…
suspicious – podejrzany
be allergic to sth – być uczulonym na coś
give sb the creeps – przyprawiać kogoś o ciarki / wywoływać u kogoś nieprzyjemne uczucie
intercom – domofon
keep oneself to oneself – trzymać się na uboczu, stronić od ludzi
be half sb’s age – być dwa razy młodszym od kogoś
crumpled – pognieciony, pomięty
no sooner had sb done sth than… – ledwo ktoś coś zrobił, a już…
mirthlessly – bez cienia wesołości
convince sb of sth – przekonać kogoś o czymś
crook – oszust, przestępca
little evidence – niewiele dowodów
fake sth – sfingować / upozorować coś
dig – dug – dug – kopać
virtually – praktycznie, niemal
only now did sb do sth – dopiero teraz ktoś coś zrobił
come together – ułożyć się w całość, zacząć mieć sens
lie – lied – lied – kłamać; forma ciągła: lying
show up – pojawić się
pod – kapsuła, kabina
catch up with sb – dogonić / dopaść kogoś
as far as sb is concerned – jeśli chodzi o kogoś / z czyjegoś punktu widzenia
smash – rozbić (się), roztrzaskać (się)
whimper – jęknąć, zaskomleć
set sb up – zastawić na kogoś pułapkę
look forward to sth – czekać na coś z radością / z niecierpliwością

 

SENTENCJE   
DLA  LICEUM KL. III i IV oraz TECHNIKUM KL. III – V

1. Books – the best antidote against the marsh-gas of boredom and vacuity – Książki to najlepsze antidotum na opary nudy i pustki.
   – George Steiner
   
   
2. Reading is escape, and the opposite of escape – Czytanie jest ucieczką i zarazem przeciwieństwem ucieczki.
   – Nora Ephron
   
   
3. The oldest books are still only just out to those who have not read them – Najstarsze książki są wciąż nowością dla tych, którzy ich nie czytali.
   – Samuel Butler
   
   
4. In life, unlike chess, the game continues after checkmate – W życiu, inaczej niż w szachach, gra toczy się dalej po szach-macie.
   – Isaac Asimov
   
   
5. The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes – Prawdziwa podróż odkrywcza nie polega na szukaniu nowych krajobrazów, lecz na patrzeniu nowymi oczami.
   – Marcel Proust
   
   
6. Forever is composed of nows – Wieczność składa się z chwil teraźniejszych.
   – Emily Dickinson
   
   
7. The world is full of obvious things which nobody by any chance ever observes – Świat jest pełen oczywistych rzeczy, których nikt nigdy nie zauważa.
   – Arthur Conan Doyle
   
   
8. We do not see things as they are, we see them as we are – Nie widzimy rzeczy takimi, jakie są, lecz takimi, jacy sami jesteśmy.
   – Anaïs Nin
   
   
9. The cure for boredom is curiosity. There is no cure for curiosity – Lekarstwem na nudę jest ciekawość. Na ciekawość nie ma lekarstwa.
   – Ellen Parr
   
   
10. It is impossible to enjoy idling thoroughly unless one has plenty of work to do – Nie da się w pełni cieszyć bezczynnością, jeśli nie ma się mnóstwa pracy do zrobienia.
    – Jerome K. Jerome
    
    
11. Life is a miscellaneous collection of things we planned and things that happened instead – Życie to różnorodny zbiór rzeczy, które zaplanowaliśmy, i rzeczy, które wydarzyły się zamiast nich.
    – Unknown

PIOSENKI 
DLA  LICEUM KL. III i IV oraz TECHNIKUM KL. III – V
Podane linki odsyłają do nagrań z dodanym zapisem słów piosenek oraz do ich tłumaczenia.

1. The Good Part – AJR
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U7itjaZZxqw
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wxx0lF5wv2E
   https://www.tekstowo.pl/ajr/the-good-part

2. The Fate of Ophelia – Taylor Swift
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rbmdfEQODOw
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QFoQu3vRZ_I
   https://www.tekstowo.pl/taylor-swift/the-fate-of-ophelia

3. The Logical Song – Supertramp
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=np00PvDYBtM
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tVpcTzq9ZjU
   https://www.tekstowo.pl/supertramp/the-logical-song

4. River Lea – Adele
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lw4rjQ8JBcM
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DqGNKdcfuDs
   https://www.tekstowo.pl/adele/river-lea

5. Moon Over Bourbon Street – Sting
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AVGfqbDlBuM
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8x2BsfY7GK4
   https://www.tekstowo.pl/sting/moon-over-bourbon-street

6. Moral of the Story – Ashe
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TjTjyB6P8iA
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xT1fED4kr9g
   https://www.tekstowo.pl/ashe/moral-of-the-story

7. Soon We’ll Be Found – Sia
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jr_13dTUouk
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pIwPm0lNAI8
   https://www.tekstowo.pl/piosenka,sia,soon_we_ll_be_found.html

8. Everything’s Gonna Be Alright – Sweetbox
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RA1ddQOO5Dw
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gSUlVeo5utE
   https://www.tekstowo.pl/sweetbox/everything-s-gonna-be-alright