Month: March 2019

Customized tour Bulgaria

Customized tour Bulgaria

After a hardworking month or year, the normal thing is to think of a way to relax. Many and different the ways are but the most common one is to travel. Although the easiest way to do it is by reading a nice book, a magazine or a brochure about a place, you can simply see a commercial on TV. Then travel in your mind to different worlds. That`s how dreams are born. Dreams to visit these worlds in real. The imagination is woken up and takes over. Once it`s up, you cannot stop it easily. It hovers around. It needs information to grow, to realize and to make the dreams for customized tour Bulgaria come true.

Then, there is another way, the actual travelling. However, it is not in your mind but in a car, on the bus or plane, or in your mobile home – camper. This i the travelling that follows the imagination. Then dreams become reality and memories start to fill your mind, your heart. The next best thing to be done is…

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The Bet part 5

The Bet part 5

“If I have the courage to fulfil my intention,” thought the old man, “the Suspicion will fall on the watchman first of all.”

In the darkness he groped for the steps and the door and entered the hall of the garden-wing, then poked his way into a narrow passage and struck a match. Not a soul was there. Some one`s bed, with no bedclothes on it, stood there, and an iron stove loomed dark in the comer. The seals on the door that led into the prisoner`s room were unbroken.

When the match went out, the old man, trembling from agitation, peeped into the little window.

‘In the prisoner`s room a candle was burning dimly. The prisoner himself sat by the table. Only his back, the hair on his head and his hands were visible. Open books were strewn about on the table, the two chairs, and on the carpet near the table.

Seal door

Five minutes passed and the prisoner never once stirred. Fifteen years` confinement had taught him…

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The Bet part 6

The Bet part 6

The banker took the sheet from the table and read:

“Tomorrow at twelve o`clock midnight, I shall obtain my freedom and the right to mix with people. But before I leave this room and see the sun I think it necessary to say a few words to you. On my own clear conscience and before God who sees me I declare to you that I despise freedom, life, health, and all that your books call the blessings of the world.
“For fifteen years I have diligently studied earthly life.

True, I saw neither the earth nor the people, but in your books I drank fragrant wine, sang songs, hunted deer and wild boar in the forests, loved women.

Clouds ethereal

And beautiful women, like clouds ethereal, created by the magic of your poet`s genius, visited me by night and whispered to me wonderful tales, which made my head drunken. In your books I climbed the summits of Elbruz and Mont Blanc and saw from there how the sun rose in the morning, and in the evening suf…

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The Bet part 4

The Bet part 4

During the last two years of his confinement the prisoner read an extraordinary amount, quite haphazard. Now he would apply himself to the natural sciences, then he would read Byron or Shakespeare. Notes used to come from him in which he asked to be sent at the same time a book on chemistry, a text-book of medicine, a novel, and some treatise on philosophy or theology. He read as though he were swimming in the sea among broken pieces of wreckage, and in his desire to save his life was eagerly grasping one piece after another.

The banker recalled all this, and thought:

“To-morrow at twelve o`clock he receives his freedom. Under the agreement, I shall have to pay him two millions. If I pay, it`s all over with me. I am ruined forever…”

Many millions to count

Fifteen years before he had too many millions to count, but now he was afraid to ask himself which he had more of, money or debts. Gambling on the Stock-Exchange, risky specul…

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The Bet part 3

The Bet part 3

During the first year of imprisonment, the lawyer, as far as it was possible to judge from his short notes, suffered terribly from loneliness and boredom. From his wing day and night came the sound of the piano. He rejected wine and tobacco. “Wine,” he wrote, “excites desires, and desires are the chief foes of a prisoner; besides, nothing is more boring than to drink good wine alone,” and tobacco spoiled the air in his room. During the first year the lawyer was sent books of it light character; novels with a complicated love interest, stories of crime and fantasy, comedies, and so on.

In the second year the piano was heard no longer and the lawyer asked only for classics. In the fifth year, music was heard again, and the prisoner asked for wine. Those who watched him said that during the whole of that year he was only eating, drinking, and lying on his bed. He yawned often and talked angrily to himself. Books he did not read. Sometimes at nights he would sit down t…

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The Bet part 2

The Bet part 2

“If you mean it seriously,” replied the lawyer, “then I bet I`ll stay not five but fifteen.”

“Fifteen! Done!” cried the banker. “Gentlemen, I stake two millions.”
“Agreed. You stake two millions, I my freedom,” said the lawyer.

So this wild, ridiculous bet came to pass. The banker, who at that time had too many millions to count, spoiled and capricious, was beside himself with rapture. During supper he said to the lawyer jokingly:

Lose three

“Come to your senses, young man, before it`s too late. Two millions are nothing to me, but you stand to lose three or four of the^ best years of your life. I say three or four, because you`ll never stick it out any longer. Don`t forget either, you unhappy man, that voluntary is much heavier than enforced imprisonment. The idea that you have the right to free yourself at any moment will poison the whole of your life in the cell. I pity you.”

And now the banker,…

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The Bet part 1

The Bet part 1

Anton Chekhov (1860 1904)

Chekhov stands out as one of the greatest short story writers of the world. Although he received an M.D. degree, he never practiced medicine, but devoted himself to writing. His scientific studies were, however, of service to him. There seems to be no limit to the range ofhis knowledge of the human family. His situations are handled adroitly and with a strict economy of words.

In The Bet he shews all the cynicism, fatalism, bitterness, pettiness and viciousness that can result from a simple jest.

The present translation, by J. Middleton Murry and S. S. Kote- liansky, is reprinted from The Bet and Other Stories, by permission of the publishers, George Allen & Unwin.

The Bet

It was a dark autumn night. The old banker was pacing from corner to corner of his study, recalling to his mind the party he gave in the autumn fifteen years before. There were many clever people at the party and much interesting c…

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Private Bulgaria tours Yachting

Private Bulgaria tours Yachting

Private Bulgaria tours yachting in a different yachting way

Close your eyes and think about your dream private Bulgaria tours. Also, think about private Bulgaria tours yachting. And get ready to explore the country and the Black Sea coast in a completely different way.

Yachting in Bulgaria offers opportunities for turning your holiday into beautiful memories. And I promise you can collect memories everywhere in Bulgaria. (Sofia sightseeing)

During the past few years, some of the elite marine complexes and resort towns have built yacht ports. The ports in the resorts Rusalka, Tyulenovo, Balchik, Golden Sands and Varna offer fine opportunities for private Bulgaria tours yachting along the northe…

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A Dark-Brown Dog part 5

A Dark-Brown Dog part 5

One day, however, the father of the family got quite exceptionally drunk. He came home and held carnival with the cooking utensils, the furniture and his wife. He was in the midst of this recreation when the child, followed by the dark-brown dog, entered the room. They were returning from their voyages.

The child`s practised eye instantly noted his father`s state. He dived under the table, where experience had taught him was a rather safe place. The dog, lacking skill in such matters, was, of course, unaware of the true condition of affairs. He looked with interested eyes at his friend`s sudden dive. He interpreted it to mean: Joyous gambol. He started to patter across the floor to join him. He was the picture of a little dark-brown dog en route to a friend.

The head of the family saw him at this moment. He gave a huge howl of joy, and knocked the dog down with a heavy coffee-pot. The dog, .yelling in supreme astonishment and fear, writhed to his feet and r…

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A Dark-Brown Dog part 4

A Dark-Brown Dog part 4

Sometimes, too, the child himself used to beat the dog, although it is not known that he ever had what truly could be called a just cause. The dog always accepted these thrashings with an air of admitted guilt. He was too much of a dog to try to look to be a martyr or to plot revenge. He received the blows with deep humility, and furthermore he forgave his friend the moment the child had finished, and was ready to caress the child`s hand with his little red tongue.

When misfortune came upon the child, and his troubles over-whelmed him, he would often crawl under the table and lay his small distressed head on the dog`s back. The dog was ever sympathetic. It is not to be supposed that at such times he took occasion to refer to the unjust beatings his friend, when provoked, had administered to him.

He did not achieve any notable degree of intimacy with the other members of the family. He had no confidence in them, and the fear that he would express at their casu…

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A Dark-Brown Dog part 3

A Dark-Brown Dog part 3

The parent demanded to know what the blazes they were making the kid howl for. It was explained in many words that the infernal kid wanted to introduce a disreputable dog into the family.

A family council was held. On this depended the dog`s fate, but he in no way heeded, being busily engaged in chewing the end of the child`s dress.

The affair was quickly ended. The father of the family, it appears, was in a particularly savage temper that evening, and when he perceived that it would amaze and anger everybody if such a dog were allowed to remain, he decided that it should be so. The child, crying softly, took his friend off to a retired part of the room to hobnob with him, while the father quelled a fierce rebellion of his wife. So it came to pass that the dog was a member of the household.

Protesting loudly

He and the child were associated together at all times save when the child slept. The child became a guardian and a friend. If the…

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A Dark-Brown Dog part 2

A Dark-Brown Dog part 2

The child beat his pursuer with a small stick he had found. The dog lay down and prayed until the child had finished, and resumed his journey. Then he scrambled erect and took up the pursuit again.

On the way to his home the child turned many times and beat the dog, proclaiming with childish gestures that he held him in contempt as an unimportant dog, with no value save for a moment. For being this quality of animal the dog apologized and eloquently expressed regret, but he continued stealthily to follow the child. His manner grew so very guilty that he slunk like an assassin.

When the child reached his doorstep, the dog was industriously ambling a few yards in the rear. He became so agitated with shame when he again confronted the child that he forgot the dragging rope. He tripped upon it and fell forward.

Such abandon

The child sat down on the step and the two had another interview. During it the dog greatly exerted himself to please the c…

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A Dark-Brown Dog part 1

A Dark-Brown Dog part 1

Stephen Crane 1871-1900

Crane has only recently received due credit for his stories. True, his Red Badge of Courage made quite a stir in the nineties, but apart from that book, he was not well-known until some four or five years ago. He was a free-lance writer to the end of his short life. His best work is found in his few volumes of short tales, war stories and stories of contemporary life. He was a war-correspondent in the Balkans and Cuba, though he wrote his most striking war stories before he had ever witnessed a battle. He was not a trick-story writer; he was neither facile nor ingenious; his work at its best is the sound product of an honest artist.

This story is from Men, Women, and Boats, published in 1921 by Boni & Liveright, New York. It is here reprinted by permission of Alfred A. Knopf.

A Dark-Brown Dog

A child was standing on a street-corner. He leaned with one shoulder against a high board fence and swayed the other to a…

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Sophistication part 7

Sophistication part 7

In Winesburg the crowded day had run itself out into the long night of the late fall. Farm horses jogged away along lonely country roads pulling their portion of weary people. Clerks began to bring samples of goods in off the sidewalks and lock the doors of stores. In the Opera House a crowd had gathered to see a show and further down Main Street the fiddlers, their instruments tuned, sweated and worked to keep the feet of youth flying over a dance floor.

Grand Stand Helen

In the darkness in the grand-stand Helen White and George Willard remained silent. Now and then the spell that held them was broken and they turned and tried in the dim light to see into each other s eyes. They kissed but that impulse did not last. At the upper end of the fair ground a half dozen men worked over horses that had raced during the afternoon. The men had built a fire and were heating kettles of water. Only their legs could be seen as they passed back and forth in the light. When…

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Sophistication part 6

Sophistication part 6

Come on, he said and took hold of her hand. With hanging heaul they walked away along the street under the trees. Dry leaves rustled under foot. Now that he had found her George wondered what he had better do and say.

At the upper end of the fair ground, in Winesburg, there is a half decayed old grand-stand. It has never been painted and the boards arc all warped out of shape. The fair ground stands on top of a low hill rising out of the valley of Wine Creek and from the grand-stand one can see at night, over a cornfield, the lights of the town reflected against the sky.

George and Helen climbed the hill to the fair ground, coming by the path past Waterworks Pond. The feeling of loneliness and isolation that had come to the young man in the crowded streets of his town was both broken and intensified by the presence of Helen. What he felt was reflected in her.

Force fight

In youth there are always two forces fighting in people. The warm unthi…

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Sophistication part 5

Sophistication part 5

Ordinarily George Willard would have been intensely interested in the boasting of Moyer, the horseman. Now it made him angry. He turned and hurried away along the street. “Old wind-bag,” he spluttered. “Why does he want to be bragging? Why don`t he shut up?”

George went into a vacant lot and as he hurried along, fell over a pile of rubbish. A nail protruding from an empty barrel tore his trousers. He sat down on the ground and swore. With a pin he mended the torn place and then arose and went on. “I`ll go to Helen White`s house, that`s what I`ll do. I`ll walk right in. I`ll say that I want to see her. I`ll walk right in and sit down, that`s what I`ll do,” he declared, climbing over a fence and beginning to run.

Banker White

On the veranda of Banker White`s house Helen was restless and distraught. The instructor sat between the mother and daughter. His talk wearied the girl. Although he had also been raised in an Ohio…

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Sophistication part 4

Sophistication part 4

The confused boy put his hand on the girl`s arm. His voice trembled. The two started to walk back along the road toward town. In his desperation George boasted, “I`m going to be a big man, the biggest that ever lived here in Winesburg,” he declared. “I want you to do something, I don`t know what. Perhaps it is none of my business. I want you to try to be different from other women. You see the point. It`s none of my business I tell you. I want you to be a beautiful woman. You see what I want.”

The boy`s voice failed and in silence the two came back kite town and went along the street to Helen White`s house. At the gate he tried to say something impressive. Speeches he had thought out came into his head, but they seemed utterly pointless. “I thought I used to think I had it in my mind you would marry Seth Richmond. Now I know you won`t,” was all he could find to say as she went through the gate and toward the door of her house.

George t…

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Sophistication part 3

Sophistication part 3

As for Helen White, she also had come to a period of change. What George felt, she in her young woman`s way felt also. She was no longer a girl and hungered to reach into the grace and beauty of womanhood. She had come home from Cleveland, where she was attending college, to spend a day at the Fair. She also had begun to have memories. During the day she sat in the grand-stand with a young man, one of the instructors from the college, who was a guest of her mother`s. The young man was of a pedantic turn of mind and she felt at once he would not do for her purpose.

Former schoolmates

At the Fair she was glad to be seen in his company as he was well dressed and a stranger. She knew that the fact of his presence would create an impression. During the day she was happy, but when night came on she began to grow restless. She wanted to drive the instructor away, to get out of his presence. While they sat together in the grand-stand and while the eyes of former s…

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Sophistication part 2

Sophistication part 2

There is a time in the life of every boy when he for the first time takes the backward view of life. Perhaps that is the moment when he crosses the line into manhood. The boy is walking through the street of his town. He is thinking of the future and of the figure he will cut in the world.

Consciousness

Ambitions and regrets awake within him. Suddenly something happens; he stops under a tree and waits as for a voice calling his name. Ghosts of old things creep into his consciousness; the voices outside of himself whisper a message concerning the limitations of life. From being quite sure of himself and his future he becomes not at all sure. If he be an imaginative boy a door is torn open and for the first time he looks out upon the world, seeing, as though they marched in procession before him, the countless figures of men who before his time have come out of nothingness into the world, lived their lives and again disappeared into nothingness.

The s…

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Sophistication part 1

Sophistication part 1

Sherwood Anderson (1876-1940)

Sherwood Anderson was born at Clyde, Ohio, in 1876. Though he had written stories before, it was not until 1916 that he published his first book, Windy McPherson`s Son. Anderson`s short stories particularly those in the volume Winesburg, Ohio are about as different from the suavely clever products of Harte and O. Henry as anything could be. They are concerned first and last with human beings: plot and technique in short, the framework are almost entirely disregarded in an effort to present what appears to the writer as the truth.

Sophistication is reprinted from Winesburg, Ohio. Copyright by Jonathan Cape, by whose permission it is here used.

Sophistication

It was early evening of a day in the late fall, and the Winesburg County Fair had brought crowds of country people into town. The day had been clear and the night came on warm and pleasant. On the Trunion Pike, where the road after it left town stretche…

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