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A Municipal Report
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<blockquote data-quote="Butchi" data-source="post: 92085" data-attributes="member: 7"><p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"><strong>A Municipal Report</strong></span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Hướng dẫn: Nghe audio và tìm từ điền vào chỗ trống. Bôi đen chỗ trống để xem đáp án.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span>[MP3]https://server1.vnkienthuc.com/files/3/Media/A_Municipal_Report_-_By_O_Henry.mp3[/MP3]</p><p></p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'">ANNOUNCER: And now, the weekly VOA Special English program of American stories.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">(MUSIC)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Our story today is called "A Municipal Report." It was written by O. Henry and first published in nineteen-oh-four. Here is Shep ONeal with the story.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">(MUSIC) </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">STORYTELLE: It was raining as I got off the train in Nashville, Tennessee -- a slow, gray rain. I was tired so I went straight to my hotel.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">A big, heavy man was walking up and down in the </span>[A]hotel lobby[/A]<span style="font-family: 'Arial'">. Something about the way he moved made me think of a hungry dog looking for a bone. He had a big, fat, red face and a sleepy</span>[A] expression[/A]<span style="font-family: 'Arial'"> in his eyes. He introduced himself as Wentworth Caswell -- Major Wentworth Caswell -- from "a fine southern family." Caswell pulled me into the hotels barroom and yelled for a waiter. We ordered drinks. While we drank, he talked continually about himself, his family, his wife and her family. He said his wife was rich. He showed me a handful of silver coins that he pulled from his</span>[A] coat pocket[/A]<span style="font-family: 'Arial'">.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">By this time, I had decided that I wanted no more of him. I said good night.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">I went up to my room and looked out the window. It was ten oclock but the town was silent. "A nice quiet place," I said to myself as I got ready for bed. Just an ordinary, sleepy </span>[A]southern town[/A]<span style="font-family: 'Arial'">."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">I was born in the south myself. But I live in New York now. I write for a large magazine. My boss had asked me to go to Nashville. The magazine had received some stories and poems from a writer in Nashville, named Azalea Adair. The editor liked her work very much. The publisher asked me to get her to sign an </span>[A]agreement[/A]<span style="font-family: 'Arial'"> to write only for his magazine.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">I left the hotel at nine oclock the next morning to find Miss Adair. It was still raining. As soon as I stepped outside I met Uncle Caesar. He was a big, old black man with </span>[A]fuzzy gray hair[/A]<span style="font-family: 'Arial'">.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Uncle Caesar was wearing the strangest coat I had ever seen. It must have been a military officers coat. It was very long and when it was new it had been gray. But now rain, sun and age had made it a </span>[A]rainbow[/A]<span style="font-family: 'Arial'"> of colors. Only one of the buttons was left. It was yellow and as big as a fifty cent coin.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Uncle Caesar stood near a horse and carriage. He opened the carriage door and said softly, "Step right in, sir. Ill take you anywhere in the city."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"I want to go to eight-sixty-one Jasmine Street," I said, and I started to climb into the carriage. But the old man stopped me. "Why do you want to go there, sir? "</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"What business is it of yours?" I said angrily. Uncle Caesar relaxed and smiled. "Nothing, sir. But its a lonely part of town. Just step in and Ill take you there right away."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Eight-sixty-one Jasmine Street had been a fine house once, but now it was old and dying. I got out of the carriage.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"That will be two dollars, sir," Uncle Caesar said. I gave him two one-dollar bills. As I handed them to him, I noticed that one had been torn in half and fixed with a piece of </span>[A]blue paper[/A]<span style="font-family: 'Arial'">. Also, the upper right hand corner was missing.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Azalea Adair herself opened the door when I knocked. She was about fifty years old. Her white hair was pulled back from her small,</span>[A] tired face[/A]<span style="font-family: 'Arial'">. She wore a pale yellow dress. It was old, but very clean.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Azalea Adair led me into her living room. A damaged table, three chairs and an old red sofa were in the center of </span>[A]the floor[/A]<span style="font-family: 'Arial'">.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Azalea Adair and I sat down at the table and began to talk. I told her about the </span>[A]magazines[/A]<span style="font-family: 'Arial'"> offer and she told me about herself. She was from an old southern family. Her father had been a judge.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Azalea Adair told me she had never traveled or even attended school. Her parents taught her at home with </span>[A]private teachers[/A]<span style="font-family: 'Arial'">. We finished our meeting. I promised to return with the agreement the next day, and rose to leave.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">At that moment, someone knocked at the back door. Azalea Adair </span>[A]whispered[/A]<span style="font-family: 'Arial'"> a soft apology and went to answer the caller. She came back a minute later with bright eyes and pink cheeks. She looked ten years younger. "You must have a cup of tea before you go," she said. She shook a little bell on the table, and a small black girl about twelve years old ran into the room.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Azalea Aair opened a tiny old purse and took out a dollar bill. It had been fixed with a piece of blue paper and the upper right hand corner was missing. It was the dollar I had given to Uncle Caesar. "Go to Mr. Bakers store, Impy," she said, "and get me twenty-five cents worth of tea and ten cents worth of </span>[A]sugar cakes[/A]<span style="font-family: 'Arial'">. And please hurry."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">The child ran out of the room. We heard the back door close. Then the girl screamed. Her cry mixed with a mans angry voice. Azalea Adair stood up. Her face showed no emotion as she left the room. I heard the mans rough voice and her gentle one. Then a door </span>[A]slammed [/A]<span style="font-family: 'Arial'">and she came back into the room.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"I am sorry, but I wont be able to offer you any tea after all," she said. "It seems that Mr. Baker has no more tea. Perhaps he will find some for our visit tomorrow."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">We said good-bye. I went back to my hotel.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Just before dinner, Major Wentworth Caswell found me. It was</span>[A] impossible to avoid[/A]<span style="font-family: 'Arial'"> him. He insisted on buying me a drink and pulled two one-dollar bills from his pocket. Again I saw a torn dollar fixed with blue paper, with a corner missing. It was the one I gave Uncle Caesar. How strange, I thought. I wondered how Caswell got it.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Uncle Caesar was waiting outside the hotel the next afternoon. He took me to Miss Adairs house and agreed to wait there until we had finished our business.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Azalea Adair did not look well. I </span>[A]explained the agreement [/A]<span style="font-family: 'Arial'">to her. She signed it. Then, as she started to rise from the table, Azalea Adair fainted and fell to the floor. I picked her up and carried her to the old red sofa. I ran to the door and yelled to Uncle Caesar for help. He ran down the street. Five minutes later, he was back with a doctor.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">The doctor examined Miss Adair and turned to the old black driver. "Uncle Caesar," he said, "run to my house and ask my wife for some milk and some eggs. Hurry!"</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Then the doctor turned to me. "She does not get enough to eat," he said. "She has many friends who want to help her, but she is proud. Misses Caswell will </span>[A]accept[/A]<span style="font-family: 'Arial'"> help only from that old black man. He was once her familys slave."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"Misses Caswell." I said in surprise. "I thought she was Azalea Adair."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"She was," the doctor answered, "until she married Wentworth Caswell twenty years ago. But hes a hopeless drunk who takes even the small amount of money that Uncle Caesar gives her."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">After the doctor left I heard Caesars voice in the other room. "Did he take all the money I gave you yesterday, Miss Azalea?" "Yes, Caesar," I heard her answer softly. "He took</span>[A] both dollars[/A]<span style="font-family: 'Arial'">."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">I went into the room and gave Azalea Adair fifty dollars. I told her it was from the magazine. Then Uncle Caesar drove me back to the hotel.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">A few hours later, I went out for </span>[A]a walk before dinner[/A]<span style="font-family: 'Arial'">. A crowd of people were talking excitedly in front of a store. I pushed my way into the store. Major Caswell was lying on the floor. He was dead.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Someone had found his body on the street. He had been killed in a fight. In fact, his hands were still closed into tight fists. But as I stood near his body, Caswells right hand opened. Something fell from it and rolled near my feet. I put my foot on it, then picked it up and put it in my pocket.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">People said they believed a thief had killed him. They said Caswell had been showing everyone that he had fifty dollars. But when he was found, he had no money on him.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">I left Nashville the next morning. As the train crossed a river I took out of my pocket the object that had dropped from Caswells </span>[A]dead hand[/A]<span style="font-family: 'Arial'">. I threw it into the river below.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">It was a button. A yellow button...the one from Uncle Caesars coat.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">(MUSIC)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">You have just heard the story "A Municipal Report." It was written by O. Henry and adapted for Special English by Dona de Sanctis. Your narrator was Shep ONeal. This is Susan Clark. Join us again next time for another American story on the Voice of America.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Butchi, post: 92085, member: 7"] [CENTER][FONT=Arial][B]A Municipal Report[/B] [/FONT][/CENTER] [FONT=Arial] Hướng dẫn: Nghe audio và tìm từ điền vào chỗ trống. Bôi đen chỗ trống để xem đáp án. [/FONT][MP3]https://server1.vnkienthuc.com/files/3/Media/A_Municipal_Report_-_By_O_Henry.mp3[/MP3] [FONT=Arial][/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT][FONT=Arial]ANNOUNCER: And now, the weekly VOA Special English program of American stories.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial](MUSIC)[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial]Our story today is called "A Municipal Report." It was written by O. Henry and first published in nineteen-oh-four. Here is Shep ONeal with the story.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial](MUSIC) [/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial]STORYTELLE: It was raining as I got off the train in Nashville, Tennessee -- a slow, gray rain. I was tired so I went straight to my hotel.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial]A big, heavy man was walking up and down in the [/FONT][A]hotel lobby[/A][FONT=Arial]. Something about the way he moved made me think of a hungry dog looking for a bone. He had a big, fat, red face and a sleepy[/FONT][A] expression[/A][FONT=Arial] in his eyes. He introduced himself as Wentworth Caswell -- Major Wentworth Caswell -- from "a fine southern family." Caswell pulled me into the hotels barroom and yelled for a waiter. We ordered drinks. While we drank, he talked continually about himself, his family, his wife and her family. He said his wife was rich. He showed me a handful of silver coins that he pulled from his[/FONT][A] coat pocket[/A][FONT=Arial].[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial]By this time, I had decided that I wanted no more of him. I said good night.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial]I went up to my room and looked out the window. It was ten oclock but the town was silent. "A nice quiet place," I said to myself as I got ready for bed. Just an ordinary, sleepy [/FONT][A]southern town[/A][FONT=Arial]."[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial]I was born in the south myself. But I live in New York now. I write for a large magazine. My boss had asked me to go to Nashville. The magazine had received some stories and poems from a writer in Nashville, named Azalea Adair. The editor liked her work very much. The publisher asked me to get her to sign an [/FONT][A]agreement[/A][FONT=Arial] to write only for his magazine.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial]I left the hotel at nine oclock the next morning to find Miss Adair. It was still raining. As soon as I stepped outside I met Uncle Caesar. He was a big, old black man with [/FONT][A]fuzzy gray hair[/A][FONT=Arial].[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial]Uncle Caesar was wearing the strangest coat I had ever seen. It must have been a military officers coat. It was very long and when it was new it had been gray. But now rain, sun and age had made it a [/FONT][A]rainbow[/A][FONT=Arial] of colors. Only one of the buttons was left. It was yellow and as big as a fifty cent coin.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial]Uncle Caesar stood near a horse and carriage. He opened the carriage door and said softly, "Step right in, sir. Ill take you anywhere in the city."[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial]"I want to go to eight-sixty-one Jasmine Street," I said, and I started to climb into the carriage. But the old man stopped me. "Why do you want to go there, sir? "[/FONT] [FONT=Arial]"What business is it of yours?" I said angrily. Uncle Caesar relaxed and smiled. "Nothing, sir. But its a lonely part of town. Just step in and Ill take you there right away."[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial]Eight-sixty-one Jasmine Street had been a fine house once, but now it was old and dying. I got out of the carriage.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial]"That will be two dollars, sir," Uncle Caesar said. I gave him two one-dollar bills. As I handed them to him, I noticed that one had been torn in half and fixed with a piece of [/FONT][A]blue paper[/A][FONT=Arial]. Also, the upper right hand corner was missing.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial]Azalea Adair herself opened the door when I knocked. She was about fifty years old. Her white hair was pulled back from her small,[/FONT][A] tired face[/A][FONT=Arial]. She wore a pale yellow dress. It was old, but very clean.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial]Azalea Adair led me into her living room. A damaged table, three chairs and an old red sofa were in the center of [/FONT][A]the floor[/A][FONT=Arial].[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial]Azalea Adair and I sat down at the table and began to talk. I told her about the [/FONT][A]magazines[/A][FONT=Arial] offer and she told me about herself. She was from an old southern family. Her father had been a judge.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial]Azalea Adair told me she had never traveled or even attended school. Her parents taught her at home with [/FONT][A]private teachers[/A][FONT=Arial]. We finished our meeting. I promised to return with the agreement the next day, and rose to leave.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial]At that moment, someone knocked at the back door. Azalea Adair [/FONT][A]whispered[/A][FONT=Arial] a soft apology and went to answer the caller. She came back a minute later with bright eyes and pink cheeks. She looked ten years younger. "You must have a cup of tea before you go," she said. She shook a little bell on the table, and a small black girl about twelve years old ran into the room.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial]Azalea Aair opened a tiny old purse and took out a dollar bill. It had been fixed with a piece of blue paper and the upper right hand corner was missing. It was the dollar I had given to Uncle Caesar. "Go to Mr. Bakers store, Impy," she said, "and get me twenty-five cents worth of tea and ten cents worth of [/FONT][A]sugar cakes[/A][FONT=Arial]. And please hurry."[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial]The child ran out of the room. We heard the back door close. Then the girl screamed. Her cry mixed with a mans angry voice. Azalea Adair stood up. Her face showed no emotion as she left the room. I heard the mans rough voice and her gentle one. Then a door [/FONT][A]slammed [/A][FONT=Arial]and she came back into the room.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial]"I am sorry, but I wont be able to offer you any tea after all," she said. "It seems that Mr. Baker has no more tea. Perhaps he will find some for our visit tomorrow."[/FONT] [FONT=Arial]We said good-bye. I went back to my hotel.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial]Just before dinner, Major Wentworth Caswell found me. It was[/FONT][A] impossible to avoid[/A][FONT=Arial] him. He insisted on buying me a drink and pulled two one-dollar bills from his pocket. Again I saw a torn dollar fixed with blue paper, with a corner missing. It was the one I gave Uncle Caesar. How strange, I thought. I wondered how Caswell got it.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial]Uncle Caesar was waiting outside the hotel the next afternoon. He took me to Miss Adairs house and agreed to wait there until we had finished our business.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial]Azalea Adair did not look well. I [/FONT][A]explained the agreement [/A][FONT=Arial]to her. She signed it. Then, as she started to rise from the table, Azalea Adair fainted and fell to the floor. I picked her up and carried her to the old red sofa. I ran to the door and yelled to Uncle Caesar for help. He ran down the street. Five minutes later, he was back with a doctor.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial]The doctor examined Miss Adair and turned to the old black driver. "Uncle Caesar," he said, "run to my house and ask my wife for some milk and some eggs. Hurry!"[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial]Then the doctor turned to me. "She does not get enough to eat," he said. "She has many friends who want to help her, but she is proud. Misses Caswell will [/FONT][A]accept[/A][FONT=Arial] help only from that old black man. He was once her familys slave."[/FONT] [FONT=Arial]"Misses Caswell." I said in surprise. "I thought she was Azalea Adair."[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial]"She was," the doctor answered, "until she married Wentworth Caswell twenty years ago. But hes a hopeless drunk who takes even the small amount of money that Uncle Caesar gives her."[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial]After the doctor left I heard Caesars voice in the other room. "Did he take all the money I gave you yesterday, Miss Azalea?" "Yes, Caesar," I heard her answer softly. "He took[/FONT][A] both dollars[/A][FONT=Arial]."[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial]I went into the room and gave Azalea Adair fifty dollars. I told her it was from the magazine. Then Uncle Caesar drove me back to the hotel.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial]A few hours later, I went out for [/FONT][A]a walk before dinner[/A][FONT=Arial]. A crowd of people were talking excitedly in front of a store. I pushed my way into the store. Major Caswell was lying on the floor. He was dead.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial]Someone had found his body on the street. He had been killed in a fight. In fact, his hands were still closed into tight fists. But as I stood near his body, Caswells right hand opened. Something fell from it and rolled near my feet. I put my foot on it, then picked it up and put it in my pocket.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial]People said they believed a thief had killed him. They said Caswell had been showing everyone that he had fifty dollars. But when he was found, he had no money on him.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial]I left Nashville the next morning. As the train crossed a river I took out of my pocket the object that had dropped from Caswells [/FONT][A]dead hand[/A][FONT=Arial]. I threw it into the river below.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial]It was a button. A yellow button...the one from Uncle Caesars coat.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial](MUSIC)[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial]You have just heard the story "A Municipal Report." It was written by O. Henry and adapted for Special English by Dona de Sanctis. Your narrator was Shep ONeal. This is Susan Clark. Join us again next time for another American story on the Voice of America.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT][FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [/QUOTE]
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A Municipal Report
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