Цели: 

• развивать познавательную активность учащихся;
• развивать интеллектуальные и языковые способности;
• пополнять лексический запас;
• развивать актерские способности у детей;
• повышать интерес к изучению английскому языку;
• продолжить знакомить учащихся с творчеством классиков английской литературы.

Оформление:

• декорации;
• костюмы;
• музыка;
• презентация (на экране)

Организатор: учитель английского языка -  Юферева Н.Н.
Участники: учащиеся 8 классов.

STEPHEN BUTLER LEACOCK

STEPHEN BUTLER LEACOCK (30 December 1869 – 28 March 1944) was an English-born Canadian teacher, political scientist, writer, and humourist. In the early part of the 20th century he was the best-known humourist in the English-speaking world. It was said in 1911 that more people had heard of Stephen Leacock than heard of Canada.
Stephen Leacock was born in England in 1869. His father, Peter Leacock, and his mother, Agnes Emma Butler Leacock, were both from well-to-do families. The family, eventually to consist of eleven children, immigrated to Canada in 1876, settling on a one hundred-acre farm in Sutton, Ontario. There Stephen was home-schooled until he was enrolled in Upper Canada College, Toronto. He became the head boy in 1887, and then entered the University of Toronto to study languages and literature. Later Leacock enrolled in a three-month course at Strathroy Collegiate Institute to become a qualified high school teacher. His first appointment was at Uxbridge High School, but he was soon offered a post at Upper Canada College, where he remained from 1889 through 1899. At this time he resumed part-time studies at the University of Toronto, graduating with a B.A. in 1891. However, Leacock’s real interests were turning towards economics and political theory, and in 1899 he was accepted for postgraduate studies at the University of Chicago, where he earned his PhD in 1903. Leacock was offered a post at McGill University, where he remained until he retired in 1936. In 1906, he wrote “Elements of Political Science” which remained a standard college textbook for the next twenty years and became his most profitable book. He also began public speaking and lecturing.
Leacock began submitting to the Toronto humour magazine “Grip” in 1894, and soon was publishing many humorous articles in Canadian and American magazines. In 1910, he published the best of these as “Literary Lapses”. This was confirmed by “Nonsense Novels’ (1911), and probably his best book of humorous sketches “Sunshine Sketches of a Little Town” (1912). Leacock’s humorous style was reminiscent of Mark Twain and Charles Dickens at their sunniest. However, his “Arcadian Adventures with the Idle Rich” (1914) is a darker collection that satirizes city life. Collection of sketches continued to follow almost annually at times, with a mixture of whimsy, parody, nonsense, and satire that was never bitter. 
In later life, Leacock wrote on the art of humour writing and also published biographies of M. Twain and Ch. Dickens. After retirement, a lecture tour to western Canada lead to his book “My Discovery of the West: A Discussion of East and West in Canada” (1937), for which he won the Governor General’s Award. He also won the Mark Twain medal and received a number of honorary doctorates. Other nonfiction books on Canadian topics followed and he began work on an autobiography. Leacock died of throat cancer in Toronto in 1944. He was buried in the St.George the Martyr Churchyard, Sutton, Ontario.
A prize for the best humour writing in Canada was named after him, and his house at Orillia on the banks of the Lake Couchiching became the Stephen Leacock Museum. In 1947, the Stephen Leacock Award was created to recognize the best in Canadian literary humour. In 1969, the centennial of his birth, Canada Post issued a six-cent stamp with his image on it. The following year, the Stephen Leacock Centennial Committee had a plaque at his English birthplace and a mountain in the Yukon was named after him. A number of buildings in Canada are named after Leacock, including the Stephen Leacock Building at McGill University, Stephen Leacock Public School in Ottawa, a theatre in Keswick, Ontario, and a school in Toronto.
The Stephen Leacock Associates is a foundation chartered to preserve the literary legacy of Stephen Leacock, and oversee the annual award of the Stephen Leacock Memorial Medal for Humour. It is a prestigious honour, given to encourage Canadian humour writing and is awarded for the best in Canadian humour writing. The foundation was instituted in 1946 and awarded the first Leacock Medal in 1947.

MY UNKNOWN FRIEND

(A man stepped into the smoking compartment of the train, where Stephen was sitting alone.)
Unknown friend: Well! Well! (He said, and recognition broke out all over his face.)
Stephen: Well! Well! (Stephen repeated)
Unknown friend: Who would have thought of seeing you?
Stephen:  Who, indeed.
Unknown friend:  You haven’t changed a bit.
Stephen:  Neither have you.
Unknown friend:  You may be a little stouter.
Stephen:  Yes, a little, but you are stouter yourself. No, you look just about the same as ever. (And all the time he was wondering who he was. He didn’t know him. But he never lost his presence of mind. He knew just how to deal with the situation and he decided to go on talking.)
Unknown friend:  It’s a long time since we met.
Stephen:  A long time. But it has gone very quickly. Like a flash.
Unknown friend:   Strange, how life goes on and we lose track of people. I often think about it. I sometimes wonder where all our old friends are gone to.
Stephen:  So do I.
Unknown friend: Do you ever go back to the old place?
Stephen:  Never.
Unknown friend: No, I suppose you’d hardly care to.
Stephen:  Not now.
Unknown friend:  I understand. I beg your pardon. Yes, I sometimes meet some of the old boys and they begin to talk of you and wonder what you are doing.
Stephen:  Poor things! Say! Where is Billy? Do you ever hear anything of him now?
Unknown friend: Yes, sure- Billy is ranching out in Montana. I saw him in Chicago last spring. He weighed about two hundred pounds, you wouldn’t recognize him.
Stephen: No, I certainly wouldn’t. And where is Pete?
Unknown friend: You mean Billy’s brother.
Stephen: Yes, yes, Billy’s brother.
Unknown friend:  Oh, old Pete has quite changed: he settled down altogether. Pete has married! (He began to laugh. Stephen started to laugh too).
Unknown friend: I often meant to write to you, especially when I heard of your loss.
(Stephen remained quiet. He thought: What had I lost? Was it money? And if so, how much?)
Unknown friend: One can never get over a loss like that. Yes, death is always sad.
Stephen: Death, yes, very sad. (He couldn’t understand who the stranger was talking about).
Unknown friend: Poor grandmother!
Stephen: My grandmother!
Unknown friend: Yes, “Strong and bright to the last” I suppose.
(The train was running past the semaphores. The stranger looked quickly out of the window).
Unknown friend:  Great heavens! That’s the junction! I’ve missed my stop. I should have got out at the last station! Say, porter, how long do we stop here?
Porter: Just two minutes, sir.
Unknown friend:  I have to send a telegram but my money is in the suit case. (He had hopped up now and had pulled out a bunch of keys and was fumbling at the lock of the suit case.)
(Stephen’s one fear was that he would fail to get off).
Stephen:  Here, don’t bother with the lock. Here’s money.
Unknown friend:  Thanks. (He said grabbing the roll of money out of his hand, he took all that Stephen had)  I’ll just have time. ( He sprang from the train)
Stephen:  Stupid, he has missed it and has left his expensive suit case. And I wonder who that man was, I have never seen him before.
Porter: Oh! There it is! I have been looking for it! This suit case has been stolen.
Stephen:  Stung! Next time that I fall into talk with a stranger in a train, I shall never try to be so extraordinary clever.

HOW WE KEPT MOTHER’S DAY

Mother, Father, Stephen, Will, Mary, Ann
Stephen: Of all the different ideas that have been started lately, I think that the very best is the idea of celebrating once a year “Mother’s Day”. So we decided to have a special celebration of Mother’s Day.
Let’s have a special celebration!
All: It’s a good idea!
Stephen: Our Mother has done very much for us for years!
Mary: She has made a lot of sacrifices for our sake!
Will: We’ll make it a great day, a holiday for all the family, and do everything we can to make Mother happy.
Father: I will take a holiday from my office, so as to help in celebrating the day.
Ann: I will stay home from college classes.
Mary and Will: We’ll stay home from High School.
Stephen: Let’s make it a day like Xmas or any big holiday.
Ann: Let’s decorate the house with flowers and with mottoes.
Will: Mum! Could you make mottoes and arrange the decorations. You always do it at Xmas and nobody could do it better than you do.
Mother: Sure, darling! I’ll do it.
Mary: It will be a nice thing to dress in our very best for such a big occasion.
Ann: Let’s go to the shop and buy new hats. Mum, will you go with us?
Mother: No, thank you, but I like my old hat better than a new one.
Ann and Mary: Oh! It’s a pity! But we’ll be back soon. Bye!
Father: After breakfast we will hire a motor car and take you for a beautiful drive away into the country. You are busy in the house nearly all the time. So you must have a rest.
Stephen: Dad, let’s change our plan a little bit. You bought a new rod the day before, so it will be better to take Mother fishing.
Father: OK, you can use it if you want.
Mother: Thank you, but I’d rather watch you fish, darling. Now I’ll cut up some sandwiches and pack all up in a basket for you.
(Girls came back wearing new hats) Look! Aren’t they beautiful!
Mother: You are lovely!
Will: The car has come! Let’s get in!
Stephen: OK, but there is no room for all of us.
Father: I can stay at home and work in the garden. There is a lot of dirty work I can do. I want you to go right ahead and be happy and have a big day. It’s a pity but I haven’t had a real holiday for three years.
Mary: Mother, you have only to say the word and we stay at home and work.
Ann: Ok, we can stay of course, but the day is so lovely and we have our new hats on!
Stephen: Will and I can stay but we can’t prepare any dinner.
Mother: I will stay at home. I will have a lovely restful day round the house and get the dinner. I don’t care for fishing.
Father: You know, it’s just a little bit cold and fresh-out-of-doors, though it is lovely and sunny, I am afraid that you may take cold if you come.
Stephen: So we all drove away with three cheers for Mother, and Father waved his hand back to her every few minutes. Well, we had the loveliest day among the hills that you could possibly imagine. It was quite late when we got home. The dinner was ready. It was grand: roast turkey and all sorts of things like on Xmas Day. Mother had to get up and down during the meal fetching things back and forward.
When the dinner was over all of us wanted to help to clear the things up and wash the dishes, only Mother said that she would really much rather do it.
It was quite late when we all kissed Mother before going to bed.
Mother: It was the most wonderful day in my life.
Stephen: I think there were tears in her eyes. So we all felt awfully repaid for all that we had done.

A VISIT TO THE BOOK SHOP

 (The reading public)
Manager: Can I help you, sir? Wish to look about the shop? Oh, by all means, sir. I can show you our ancient classics.
Professor: Thank you, I will have a look.
Lady 1: You are quite sure it’s the latest book of this author?
Manager: Oh, madam, this is Mr.Slush’s  very latest book, I assure you. It fact it’s having a wonderful sale.
Lady 1: This book, is it good?
Manager: It’ an extremely powerful thing, in fact it’s a masterpiece. The critics are saying  that without exaggeration it is the most powerful book of the season. It is going to be a sensation.
Lady 1: Oh, really! Well, I think I’ll take it then. Oh!  will you give me something for my husband?
He is going down south. You  know the kind of thing one reads on the vacation?
Manager: Oh, perfectly, madam. I think we have just what your husband wants. “Seven Weeks in Sahara”, 7 dollars, ”Six months in a Waggon”, 6 dollars, “Among the Monkeys”, 10 dollars.
Lady 1: Oh, it seems rather expensive.
Manager: Oh, a most expensive book , you see, it has the illustrations, actual photographs of actual monkeys and the paper!
Lady 1: Ok, I’ll take it.
Manager: Can I help you, madam?
Lady 2: I want something new in fiction.
Manager: Something new in fiction, yes, madam, here’s charming thing, “Golden Dreams”,- a very sweet story. In fact, the critics are saying it’s the sweetest thing Mr. Slush has done.
Lady 2: Is it good?
Manager: It’s a very charming love story. My wife was reading it aloud only last night.
Lady 2: I suppose it’s quite a safe book? I want it for my daughter.
Manager: It’s perfectly safe. In fact, it is written in the old style, like the dear old books of the past.
Lady 2: Please, wrap this book up for me.
Manager: Can I help you?
Lady 3: Have you any good light reading?
Manager: Yes, here’s an excellent thing, “Golden Dreams”, the most humorous book of the season. My wife was reading it last night. She could hardly read for laughing.
Lady 4: Have you anything to read for a holiday?
Manager: Oh, yes, it is exactly the reading for a holiday and the very book to read after the holiday.
Lady 4: Thank you very much.
 Manager: Here you are. Can I help you?
Lady 5: Well, I want a book for a rainy day.
Manager: The book “Golden Dreams” is the very book for a rainy day and for a fine day.
Lady 5: Oh, really? Is it interesting?
Manager: Yes, very, my wife was reading it aloud only last night. She could hardly read for tears.
Lady 5: Really? OK, I’ll take it.
Professor: That book, ”Golden Dreams, ”you seem to think it’s a very wonderful book?
Manager: Frankly speaking, I imagine it’s perfectly awful!
Professor: Haven’t you read it?
Manager: Dear me, no! A pretty time I’d have if I tried to read all the new books.
Professor: But  those people, won’t they be disappointed?
Manager: By no means, they won’t read. They never do.
Professor: But at any rate your wife thought it’s a fine story.
Manager: I am not married, sir.

AT THE PHOTOGRAPHER’S

Stephen: I want my photograph taken.
Photographer: Sit there and wait.
(A man waited an hour. After an hour the photographer opened the inner door.)
Photographer: Come in.  Sit down. (He looked very grave and shook his head.)
The face is quite wrong.
Stephen: I know. I have always known it.
Photographer: I think the face would be better three-quarters full.
Stephen: I’m sure it would.
Photographer: I don’t like the head. Open the mouth a little. Close it. (He twisted his head as far as it would go and sighed.) The ears are bad. Droop them a little more. Thank you. Now the eyes. Roll them in under the lids. Put the hands on the knees, please, and turn the face just a little upward. Yes, that’s better. Now just expand the lungs! So! And hump the neck,  that’s it, and just contract the waist, ha! And twist the hip up towards the elbow, now! I still don’t like the face, it’s just a trifle too, but---
Stephen: Stop! This face is my face! It is not yours, it is mine! I have lived with it for forty years and I know its faults. I know it’s out of drawing. I know it wasn’t made for me, but it’s my face, the only one I have such as it is, I’ve learned to love it. And this is my mouth, not yours. These ears are mine, and  if your machine is too narrow----(Here he started to rise from the seat.)
(Snick! The photographer had pulled a string. The photograph taken.)
Photographer: (with a pleasant smile) I think that I caught the features just in a moment of animation.
Stephen: So! Features, eh? You didn’t think I could animate them, I suppose? But let me see the picture.
Photographer: Oh, there is nothing to see yet. I have to develop the negative first. Come back on Saturday and I let you see a proof of it.
ON SATURDAY. A photographer unfolded the proof of a large photograph, and they both looked at it in silence.
Stephen: Is it me?
Photographer: Yes, it is you.
Stephen: The eyes don’t look very much like mine.
Photographer: Oh, no, I’ve retouched them. They come out splendidly, don’t they?
Stephen: Fine, but surely my eyebrows are not like that?
Photographer: No, the eyebrows are removed.
Stephen: What about the mouth? Is that mine?
Photographer: It’s adjusted a little, yours is too low.
Stephen: The ears, though, strike me as a good likeness, they’re just like mine.
Photographer: Yes, that’s so, but I can fix that all right in the print and---
Stephen: Listen! I came here for a photograph, a picture, something which would have looked like me! I wanted something that my friends might keep after my death. It seems that I was mistaken.
What I wanted is no longer done! Take your negative and keep it for yourself and your friends. And this photograph! Look! (He tears the picture and left.)
Photographer: People don’t understand what real art is!

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