Shownotes
I'm doing a little survey to find out more about ALE listeners. There are just four tiny questions. It will only take a minute or two, and will help me a LOT! Please check it out. Thanks, Cooper
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Season 2 Episode 8Thank you for downloading this episode.
👉The story begins at 2:14 and the tiny lessons begin at 13:28
👉You can find the transcript after the Credits!
👉Visit our website to download the Podcast User's Manual and find out more! https://alittleenglish.com/
A Little English is written, produced, recorded, edited, mixed, mastered and scored by Edward Cooper Howland.
All stories are either in the public domain, or written by me.
Copyright 2024 Edward Cooper Howland
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TRANSCRIPT:
Hi. My name is Cooper, and this is…A Little English. Every episode, I read a short story. After the story, there are three tiny lessons.
Tonight we are going to finish our Christmas story, so if you haven’t heard the first part, go back and listen to the last episode. In part one, we met Della, who doesn’t have enough money for a Christmas present for her husband, Jim. We haven’t met him yet. This couple, they are very poor and have only two things of value: his pocketwatch and her hair. Della is so desperate to get some money for a Christmas present that she sells her beautiful hair to a wig-maker for twenty dollars. She buys Jim a fancy chain for his grandfather’s pocketwatch. We stopped just as Jim is getting home, so let’s see what happens.
And remember, don’t worry about the fancy vocabulary. The story is pretty clear. And it’s really good.
The door opened and Jim stepped in and closed it. He looked thin and very serious. Poor fellow, he was only twenty-two—and to be burdened with a family! He needed a new overcoat and he was without gloves.
Jim stopped inside the door, as immovable as a setter at the scent of quail. His eyes were fixed upon Della, and there was an expression in them that she could not read, and it terrified her. It was not anger, nor surprise, nor disapproval, nor horror, nor any of the sentiments that she had been prepared for. He simply stared at her fixedly with that peculiar expression on his face.
Della wriggled off the table and went for him.
“Jim, darling,” she cried, “don’t look at me that way. I had my hair cut off and sold because I couldn’t have lived through Christmas without giving you a present. It’ll grow out again—you won’t mind, will you? I just had to do it. My hair grows awfully fast. Say ‘Merry Christmas!’ Jim, and let’s be happy. You don’t know what a nice—what a beautiful, nice gift I’ve got for you.”
“You’ve cut off your hair?” asked Jim, laboriously, as if he had not arrived at that patent fact yet even after the hardest mental labor.
“Cut it off and sold it,” said Della. “Don’t you like me just as well, anyhow? I’m me without my hair, ain’t I?”
Jim looked about the room curiously.
“You say your hair is gone?” he said, with an air almost of idiocy.
“You needn’t look for it,” said Della. “It’s sold, I tell you—sold and gone, too. It’s Christmas Eve, boy. Be good to me, for it went for you. Maybe the hairs of my head were numbered,” she went on with sudden serious sweetness, “but nobody could ever count my love for you. Shall I put the chops on, Jim?”
Out of his trance Jim seemed quickly to wake. He enfolded his Della. For ten seconds let us regard with discreet scrutiny some inconsequential object in the other direction. Eight dollars a week or a million a year—what is the difference? A mathematician or a wit would give you the wrong answer. The magi brought valuable gifts, but that was not among them. This dark assertion will be illuminated later on.
Jim drew a package from his overcoat pocket and threw it upon the table.
“Don’t make any mistake, Dell,” he said, “about me. I don’t think there’s anything in the way of a haircut or a shave or a shampoo that could make me like my girl any less. But if you’ll unwrap that package you may see why you had me going a while at first.”
White fingers and nimble tore at the string and paper. And then an ecstatic scream of joy; and then, alas! a quick feminine change to hysterical tears and wails, necessitating the immediate employment of all the comforting powers of the lord of the flat.
For there lay The Combs—the set of combs, side and back, that Della had worshipped long in a Broadway window. Beautiful combs, pure tortoise shell, with jewelled rims—just the shade to wear in the beautiful vanished hair. They were expensive combs, she knew, and her heart had simply craved and yearned over them without the least hope of possession. And now, they were hers, but the tresses that should have adorned the coveted adornments were gone.
But she hugged them to her bosom, and at length she was able to look up with dim eyes and a smile and say: “My hair grows so fast, Jim!”
And then Della leaped up like a little singed cat and cried, “Oh, oh!”
Jim had not yet seen his beautiful present. She held it out to him eagerly upon her open palm. The dull precious metal seemed to flash with a reflection of her bright and ardent spirit.
“Isn’t it a dandy, Jim? I hunted all over town to find it. You’ll have to look at the time a hundred times a day now. Give me your watch. I want to see how it looks on it.”
Instead of obeying, Jim tumbled down on the couch and put his hands under the back of his head and smiled.
“Dell,” said he, “let’s put our Christmas presents away and keep ’em a while. They’re too nice to use just at present. I sold the watch to get the money to buy your combs. And now suppose you put the chops on.”
The magi, as you know, were wise men—wonderfully wise men—who brought gifts to the Babe in the manger. They invented the art of giving Christmas presents. Being wise, their gifts were no doubt wise ones, possibly bearing the privilege of exchange in case of duplication. And here I have lamely related to you the uneventful chronicle of two foolish children in a flat who most unwisely sacrificed for each other the greatest treasures of their house. But in a last word to the wise of these days let it be said that of all who give gifts these two were the wisest. Of all who give and receive gifts, such as they are wisest. Everywhere they are wisest. They are the magi.
—----------------------------------------------------—----------------------------------------------------—--------------
So, I’m only crying like, a little bit. And I remember that story from school. I remember it made me really sad, because her hair will grow back but they’ll never get that watch again.
And I think I missed the point when I was in elementary school. I think I missed the last paragraph
Because well, I guess we need to talk about what magi are. They’re a Christmas thing. They’re the three men who came to visit Jesus after he was born. And like he says in the story, they invented the art of giving christmas presents. In Sunday school, we called them the three wise men. Or maybe you know the Christmas carol, “We Three Kings?” (HUM) Those guys.
So I guess the big picture can only be one question.
Why are these two, Jim and Della, the wisest? Why are they compared to the three wise men in the bible? Why are they the wisEST?
I think it’s because they both sacrificed their most important possession for love. Because they weren’t thinking about themselves, only about the people they love. Which is the whole point of Christmas, after all.
Still feel like dancing at the dictionary disco?
How about this one: alas. Like “a scream of joy and then, alas…” well actually then some kinda sexist nonsense. But alas, it’s an old fashioned way of expression sadness or grief. It’s an exclamation, like…”oh no!”
The second word is, “singed,” as in, Della “leaped up like a little singed cat.” To singe something is to burn it, but just a tiny little bit! So a singed cat is a cat that got a little too close to the fireplace. So yeah Della jumped pretty fast!
And tonight’s melody moment?
I think it’s time to talk about, “M.” This is the sound you mostly see written as M. This sound, MMMMM it’s actually really easy to make. You just have to make sure that you touch your lips together. And don’t really do anything else. Your tongue is just in the middle of your mouth. Not touching anything. And push your lips together. And yeah this is a voiced sound, so you gotta vibrate your throat. MMMMMM Fun!
Next week we will do an even more Christmasey story. Actually, it’s a poem. You probably know it, but I love it. See you then.
Let’s do the credits!
Thank you for listening to Season 2 Episode 7 of A Little English.
Every episode is produced entirely by me, Edward Cooper Howland, here in Hiroshima, Japan.
If you like the show, tell someone about it! A recommendation from a friend is the best way to get someone to listen, and I would really appreciate it.
The stories I read are in the public domain, and I get them from standardebooks.org, which is a really good website and you should check it out.
Again, thank you so much for listening.
For now, be kind to yourselves, and to each other.
Mentioned in this episode:
Transcripts
Hi. My name is Cooper, and this is…A Little English. Every episode, I read a short story. After the story, there are three tiny lessons.
Tonight we are going to finish our Christmas story, so if you haven’t heard the first part, go back and listen to the last episode. In part one, we met Della, who doesn’t have enough money for a Christmas present for her husband, Jim. We haven’t met him yet. This couple, they are very poor and have only two things of value: his pocketwatch and her hair. Della is so desperate to get some money for a Christmas present that she sells her beautiful hair to a wig-maker for twenty dollars. She buys Jim a fancy chain for his grandfather’s pocketwatch. We stopped just as Jim is getting home, so let’s see what happens.
And remember, don’t worry about the fancy vocabulary. The story is pretty clear. And it’s really good.
The door opened and Jim stepped in and closed it. He looked thin and very serious. Poor fellow, he was only twenty-two—and to be burdened with a family! He needed a new overcoat and he was without gloves.
Jim stopped inside the door, as immovable as a setter at the scent of quail. His eyes were fixed upon Della, and there was an expression in them that she could not read, and it terrified her. It was not anger, nor surprise, nor disapproval, nor horror, nor any of the sentiments that she had been prepared for. He simply stared at her fixedly with that peculiar expression on his face.
Della wriggled off the table and went for him.
“Jim, darling,” she cried, “don’t look at me that way. I had my hair cut off and sold because I couldn’t have lived through Christmas without giving you a present. It’ll grow out again—you won’t mind, will you? I just had to do it. My hair grows awfully fast. Say ‘Merry Christmas!’ Jim, and let’s be happy. You don’t know what a nice—what a beautiful, nice gift I’ve got for you.”
“You’ve cut off your hair?” asked Jim, laboriously, as if he had not arrived at that patent fact yet even after the hardest mental labor.
“Cut it off and sold it,” said Della. “Don’t you like me just as well, anyhow? I’m me without my hair, ain’t I?”
Jim looked about the room curiously.
“You say your hair is gone?” he said, with an air almost of idiocy.
“You needn’t look for it,” said Della. “It’s sold, I tell you—sold and gone, too. It’s Christmas Eve, boy. Be good to me, for it went for you. Maybe the hairs of my head were numbered,” she went on with sudden serious sweetness, “but nobody could ever count my love for you. Shall I put the chops on, Jim?”
Out of his trance Jim seemed quickly to wake. He enfolded his Della. For ten seconds let us regard with discreet scrutiny some inconsequential object in the other direction. Eight dollars a week or a million a year—what is the difference? A mathematician or a wit would give you the wrong answer. The magi brought valuable gifts, but that was not among them. This dark assertion will be illuminated later on.
Jim drew a package from his overcoat pocket and threw it upon the table.
“Don’t make any mistake, Dell,” he said, “about me. I don’t think there’s anything in the way of a haircut or a shave or a shampoo that could make me like my girl any less. But if you’ll unwrap that package you may see why you had me going a while at first.”
White fingers and nimble tore at the string and paper. And then an ecstatic scream of joy; and then, alas! a quick feminine change to hysterical tears and wails, necessitating the immediate employment of all the comforting powers of the lord of the flat.
For there lay The Combs—the set of combs, side and back, that Della had worshipped long in a Broadway window. Beautiful combs, pure tortoise shell, with jewelled rims—just the shade to wear in the beautiful vanished hair. They were expensive combs, she knew, and her heart had simply craved and yearned over them without the least hope of possession. And now, they were hers, but the tresses that should have adorned the coveted adornments were gone.
But she hugged them to her bosom, and at length she was able to look up with dim eyes and a smile and say: “My hair grows so fast, Jim!”
And then Della leaped up like a little singed cat and cried, “Oh, oh!”
Jim had not yet seen his beautiful present. She held it out to him eagerly upon her open palm. The dull precious metal seemed to flash with a reflection of her bright and ardent spirit.
“Isn’t it a dandy, Jim? I hunted all over town to find it. You’ll have to look at the time a hundred times a day now. Give me your watch. I want to see how it looks on it.”
Instead of obeying, Jim tumbled down on the couch and put his hands under the back of his head and smiled.
“Dell,” said he, “let’s put our Christmas presents away and keep ’em a while. They’re too nice to use just at present. I sold the watch to get the money to buy your combs. And now suppose you put the chops on.”
The magi, as you know, were wise men—wonderfully wise men—who brought gifts to the Babe in the manger. They invented the art of giving Christmas presents. Being wise, their gifts were no doubt wise ones, possibly bearing the privilege of exchange in case of duplication. And here I have lamely related to you the uneventful chronicle of two foolish children in a flat who most unwisely sacrificed for each other the greatest treasures of their house. But in a last word to the wise of these days let it be said that of all who give gifts these two were the wisest. Of all who give and receive gifts, such as they are wisest. Everywhere they are wisest. They are the magi.
—----------------------------------------------------—----------------------------------------------------—--------------
So, I’m only crying like, a little bit. And I remember that story from school. I remember it made me really sad, because her hair will grow back but they’ll never get that watch again.
And I think I missed the point when I was in elementary school. I think I missed the last paragraph
Because well, I guess we need to talk about what magi are. They’re a Christmas thing. They’re the three men who came to visit Jesus after he was born. And like he says in the story, they invented the art of giving christmas presents. In Sunday school, we called them the three wise men. Or maybe you know the Christmas carol, “We Three Kings?” (HUM) Those guys.
So I guess the big picture can only be one question.
Why are these two, Jim and Della, the wisest? Why are they compared to the three wise men in the bible? Why are they the wisEST?
I think it’s because they both sacrificed their most important possession for love. Because they weren’t thinking about themselves, only about the people they love. Which is the whole point of Christmas, after all.
Still feel like dancing at the dictionary disco?
How about this one: alas. Like “a scream of joy and then, alas…” well actually then some kinda sexist nonsense. But alas, it’s an old fashioned way of expression sadness or grief. It’s an exclamation, like…”oh no!”
The second word is, “singed,” as in, Della “leaped up like a little singed cat.” To singe something is to burn it, but just a tiny little bit! So a singed cat is a cat that got a little too close to the fireplace. So yeah Della jumped pretty fast!
And tonight’s melody moment?
I think it’s time to talk about, “M.” This is the sound you mostly see written as M. This sound, MMMMM it’s actually really easy to make. You just have to make sure that you touch your lips together. And don’t really do anything else. Your tongue is just in the middle of your mouth. Not touching anything. And push your lips together. And yeah this is a voiced sound, so you gotta vibrate your throat. MMMMMM Fun!
Next week we will do an even more Christmasey story. Actually, it’s a poem. You probably know it, but I love it. See you then.
Let’s do the credits!
Thank you for listening to Season 2 Episode 7 of A Little English.
Every episode is produced entirely by me, Edward Cooper Howland, here in Hiroshima, Japan.
If you like the show, tell someone about it! A recommendation from a friend is the best way to get someone to listen, and I would really appreciate it.
The stories I read are in the public domain, and I get them from standardebooks.org, which is a really good website and you should check it out.
Again, thank you so much for listening.
For now, be kind to yourselves, and to each other.
