HUNG YEN UNIVERSITY OF TECHNOLOGY AND EDUCATION FACULTY OF FOREIGN LANGUAGES ***** English American Literature A coursebook Compiled by : Nguyen Thi Bich Van, MA Nguyen Thi Duyen, MA To the Users English American Literature is a course book complied for the 4th year students of the Foreign Language Department, Hung Yen university of Technology and Education The book is not divided into units but there are class hours designed for the study of each author and/or extract (s) in the syllabus Both the English and American authors whose works are selected in this course book are representatives of different trends in the 19th and 20th centuries The book is structured with the learner-centered approach in view to give students more time to work on the extracts and discuss the questions rather than listen to lectures For each author, there is a brief account of his/her life and literary career, as well as the summary and introduction of the major work(s) Next is the extract(s) from these works There may be chapters from novels, short stories, and poems After each extract, story or poem, there are questions for discussion and analysis to help students better understand the works and have their own comments on what they read Finally, there is a recommended reading list at the back of the book Syllabus Target group: 4th year students, 7th term Credit points: 03 in 12 weeks (recommended) Course objectives: After taking the course students will be able to: - read a literary work in original - analyze and comment on a literary work and/or an author - have a systematic knowledge of the development of English and American Literature - understand English and American history, society and life in the 19th and 20th centuries as reflected in literary works - see the differences between British and American English Course contents - Give a brief introduction to the lives and literary careers of some outstanding writers of English American literature - Introduce to students the examples of the main literary genes: fairy tales, short story, novels and poetry - Acquaint students with the writing styles of English and American writers and the realistic values of their works - Analyze the works/ extracts Course requirements - It is necessary that students prepare for all lessons at home (reading, translating and analyzing the works/ extracts in the course book - For further study, the class is to be divided into groups of or who will be responsible for an oral presentation on either a given extract the one chosen by the group themselves - All the oral presentations must be presented with slides and covers the following issues: information about the authors (if they are not mentioned in the course book), the summary, the translation, and the analysis - The students’ written home assignments will be assessed individually when each is asked to write the lesson diary after each week lesson That is, they will write about what they have learnt in the past lesson in terms of contents, activities; what they like about the lesson, what they don’t understand very much, etc And it is necessary that students not type but write in ink their diaries and hand them in for the lecturer’s signature at the beginning of the next lesson Assessments: Performance in the course will be measured on the basis of two written tests and one oral presentation - Classroom discussion and oral presentation : 15% - Written diaries: 10% - Mid- semester test: 25% - End- of- semester test: 50% Format of the tests: Both the written tests (mid-term and end-of-term) cover the information about the author, the summary and a literary analysis of some learnt extract 2.3 The adventures of Tom Sawyer – Chapter 12 O’Henry ( William Sydney Porter) 116 121 3.1 Biography 121 3.2.One thousand dollars 123 3.3.The last leaf 130 3.4 The gift of Magi 137 Earnest Hemingway 143 4.1 Biography 143 4.2 A Farewell to Arms – chapter 147 4.3 A Farewell to Arms – chapter 153 4.4.The man and the sea 167 PART I : ENGLISH LITERATURE HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE Old English(450-1066) The first works in English, written in Old English, appeared in the early Middle Ages (the oldest surviving text is Cædmon's Hymn) The oral tradition was very strong in the early English culture and most literary works were written to be performed Epic poems were thus very popular and many, including Beowulf, have survived to the present day in the rich corpus of Anglo-Saxon literature that closely resemble today's Icelandic, Norwegian, North Frisian and the Northumbrian and Scots English dialects of modern English Much Old English verse in the extant manuscripts is probably a "milder" adaptation of the earlier Germanic war poems from the continent When such poetry was brought to England it was still being handed down orally from one generation to another, and the constant presence of alliterative verse, or consonant rhyme (today's newspaper headlines and marketing abundantly use this technique such as in Big is Better) helped the Anglo-Saxon people remember it Such rhyme is a feature of Germanic languages and is opposed to vocalic or end-rhyme of Romance languages But the first written literature dates to the early Christian monasteries founded by St Augustine of Canterbury and his disciples and it is reasonable to believe that it was somehow adapted to suit to needs of Christian readers Middle English literature (1066-1500) In the 12th century, a new form of English now known as Middle English evolved This is the earliest form of English literature which is comprehensible to modern readers and listeners, albeit not easily Middle English lasts up until the 1470s, when the Chancery Standard, a form of London-based English, became widespread and the printing press regularized the language Middle English Bible translations, notably Wyclif's Bible, helped to establish English as a literary language There are three main categories of Middle English Literature: Religious, Courtly love, and Arthurian William Langland's Piers Plowman is considered by many critics to be one of the early great works of English literature along with Chaucer's Canterbury Tales and Sir Gawain and the Green Knight (most likely by the Pearl Poet) during the Middle Ages It is also the first allusion to a literary tradition of the legendary English archer, swordsman, and outlaw Robin Hood The most significant Middle English author was Geoffrey Chaucer who was active in the late 14th century Often regarded as the father of English literature, Chaucer is widely credited as the first author to demonstrate the artistic legitimacy of the vernacular English language, rather than French or Latin The Canterbury Tales was Chaucer's magnum opus, and a towering achievement of Western culture The first recorded association of Valentine's Day with romantic love is in Chaucer's Parlement of Foules 1382.[1] The multilingual audience for literature in the 14th century can be illustrated by the example of John Gower, who wrote in Latin, Middle English and Anglo-Norman Among the many religious works are those in the Katherine Group and the writings of Julian of Norwich and Richard Rolle Since at least the 14th century, poetry in English has been written in Ireland and by Irish writers abroad The earliest poem in English by a Welsh poet dates from about 1470 The Renaissance (Early Modern) Period (1500-1600) Following the introduction of a printing press into England by William Caxton in 1476, vernacular literature flourished The Reformation inspired the production of vernacular liturgy which led to the Book of Common Prayer, a lasting influence on literary English language The poetry, drama, and prose produced under both Queen Elizabeth I and King James I constitute what is today labelled as Early modern (or Renaissance) The Elizabethan era saw a great flourishing of literature, especially in the field of drama The Italian Renaissance had rediscovered the ancient Greek and Roman theatre, and this was instrumental in the development of the new drama, which was then beginning to evolve apart from the old mystery and miracle plays of the Middle Ages The Italians were particularly inspired by Seneca (a major tragic playwright and philosopher, the tutor of Nero) and Plautus (its comic clichés, especially that of the boasting soldier had a powerful influence on the Renaissance and after) However, the Italian tragedies embraced a principle contrary to Seneca's ethics: showing blood and violence on the stage In Seneca's plays such scenes were only acted by the characters But the English playwrights were intrigued by Italian model: a conspicuous community of Italian actors The Selfish Giant by Oscar Wilde Every afternoon, as they were coming from school, the children used to go and play in the Giant's garden It was a large lovely garden, with soft green grass Here and there over the grass stood beautiful flowers like stars, and there were twelve peach-trees that in the springtime broke out into delicate blossoms of pink and pearl, and in the autumn bore rich fruit The birds sat on the trees and sang so sweetly that the children used to stop their games in order to listen to them 'How happy we are here!' they cried to each other One day the Giant came back He had been to visit his friend the Cornish ogre, and had stayed with him for seven years After the seven years were over he had said all that he had to say, for his conversation was limited, and he determined to return to his own castle When he arrived he saw the children playing in the garden 'What are you doing here?' he cried in a very gruff voice, and the children ran away 'My own garden is my own garden,' said the Giant; 'any one can understand that, and I will allow nobody to play in it but myself.' So he built a high wall all round it, and put up a notice-board TRESPASSERS WILL BE PROSECUTED He was a very selfish Giant The poor children had now nowhere to play They tried to play on the road, but the road was very dusty and full of hard stones, and they did not like it They used to wander round the high wall when their lessons were over, and talk about the beautiful garden inside 'How happy we were there,' they said to each other 30 down under my shirt it was warm and sticky It was cold and my leg hurt so that it made me sick After a while the stream from the stretcher above lessened and started to drip again and I heard and felt the canvas above move as the man on the stretcher settled more comfortably "How is he?" the Englishman called back "We're almost up." "He's dead I think," I said The drops fell very slowly, as they fall from an icicle after the sun has gone It was cold in the car in the night as the road climbed At the post on the top they took the stretcher out and put another in and we went on READING NOTES bersaglieri : a corps of riflemen or sharpshooters in the Italian army noted for their marching power and endurance wound stripes : parallel silver lines on black background sewed to the cloth of sleeve about 20 cm below the shoulder, worn by servicemen wounded in battle granatieri : grenadiers {originally soldiers who threw grenades; later selected foot soldiers in certain elite units of the Italian army carabinieri ; members of an Army corps which is also a police force alpini : a corps of Italian infantry organized to defend the mountain passes V.E soldiers : soldiers of the Victor Emmanuel regiment, a regiment of the king's bodyguards Evviva I'esercito : long live the army Savoia : here probably the code name of the operation pasta asciutta : macaroni Mama Mia : Mother of God! Dio te salve Maria : God save thee, Mary ( the opening words of the Italian version of the prayer Ave Maria.) Porta feriti! : Take the wounded! ỗa va bien? (French) How are you getting on? ỗa va (French) I'm all right Vive la France : Long live France QUESTIONS AND SUGGESTIONS 165 1.What you learn about the soldiers’ attitude toward the war? (from the conversation between the drivers in the dugout before the bombardment started) Did Frederic share their opinion? Why? Why not? What happened to Frederic and the drivers while they were eating their meal? What impression of the war does the description leave on readers? What you think of the character Frederic Henry in this chapter? Which of his characteristics are most clearly revealed in this chapter? 166 THE OLD MAN AND THE SEA Plot summary The Old Man and the Sea tells an epic battle between an old, experienced fisherman and a giant marlin It opens by explaining that the fisherman, who is named Santiago, has gone 84 days without catching a fish He is so unlucky that his young apprentice, Manolin, has been forbidden by his parents to sail with the old man and been ordered to fish with more successful fishermen Still dedicated to the old man, however, the boy visits Santiago's shack each night, hauling back his fishing gear, getting him food and discussing American baseball and his favorite player Joe DiMaggio Santiago tells Manolin that on the next day, he will venture far out into the Gulf to fish, confident that his unlucky streak is near its end Thus on the eighty-fifth day, Santiago sets out alone, taking his skiff far onto the Gulf He sets his lines and, by noon of the first day, a big fish that he is sure is a marlin takes his bait Unable to pull in the great marlin, Santiago instead finds the fish pulling his skiff Two days and two nights pass in this manner, during which the old man bears the tension of the line with his body Though he is wounded by the struggle and in pain, Santiago expresses a compassionate appreciation for his adversary, often referring to him as a brother He also determines that because of the fish's great dignity, no one will be worthy of eating the marlin On the third day of the ordeal, the fish begins to circle the skiff, indicating his tiredness to the old man Santiago, now completely worn out and almost in delirium, uses all the strength he has left in him to pull the fish onto its side and stab the marlin with a harpoon, ending the long battle between the old man and the tenacious fish Santiago straps the marlin to the side of his skiff and heads home, thinking about the high price the fish will bring him at the market and how many people he will feed While Santiago continues his journey back to the shore, sharks are attracted to the trail of blood left by the marlin in the water The first, a great mako shark, Santiago kills with his harpoon, losing that weapon in the process He makes a new harpoon by strapping his knife to the end of an oar to help ward off the next line of sharks; in total, five sharks are slain and many others are driven away But the sharks keep coming, and by nightfall the sharks have almost devoured the marlin's entire carcass, leaving a skeleton 167 consisting mostly of its backbone, its tail and its head Finally reaching the shore before dawn on the next day, Santiago struggles on the way to his shack, carrying the heavy mast on his shoulder Once home, he slumps onto his bed and falls into a deep sleep A group of fishermen gather the next day around the boat where the fish's skeleton is still attached One of the fishermen measures it to be 18 feet (5.5 m) from nose to tail Tourists at the nearby café mistakenly take it for a shark Manolin, worried during the old man's endeavor, cries upon finding him safe asleep The boy brings him newspapers and coffee When the old man wakes, they promise to fish together once again Upon his return to sleep, Santiago dreams of his youth—of lions on an African beach Extract How the battle was ended The sun was rising for the third time since he had put to sea when the fish started to circle He could not see by the slant of the line that the fish was circling It was too early for that He just felt a faint slackening of the pressure of the line and be commenced to pull on it gently with his right hand It tightened, as always, but just when he reached the point where it would break, line began to come in He slipped his shoulders and head from under the line and began to pull in line steadily and gently He used both of his hands in a swinging motion and tried to the pulling as much as he could with his body and his legs His old legs and shoulders pivoted with the swinging of the pulling "It is a very big circle," he said "But he is circling." Then the line would not come in any more and he held it until he saw the drops jumping from it in the sun Then it started out and the old man knelt down and let it go grudgingly back into the dark water "He is making the far part of his circle now," he said I must hold all I can, he thought The strain will shorten his circle each time Perhaps in an hour I will see him Now I must convince him and then I must kill him But the fish kept on circling slowly and the old man was wet with sweat and tired deep into his bones two hours later But the circles were much shorter now and from the way the line slanted he could tell the fish had risen steadily while he swam 168 For an hour the old man had been seeing black spots before his eyes and the sweat salted his eyes and salted the cut over his eye and on his forehead He was not afraid of the black spots They were normal at the tension that he was pulling on the line Twice, though, he had felt faint and dizzy and that had worried him "I could not fail myself and die on a fish like this," he said "Now that I have him coming so beautifully, God help me endure I'll say a hundred Our Fathers and a hundred Hail Marys But I cannot say them now Consider them said, he thought I'll say them later Just then he felt a sudden banging and jerking on the line he held with his two hands It was sharp and hard-feeling and heavy He is hitting the wire leader with his spear, be thought That was bound to come He had to that It may make him jump though and I would rather he stayed circling now The jumps were necessary for him to take air But after that each one can widen the opening of the hook wound and he can throw the hook "Don't jump, fish," he said "Don't jump." The fish hit the wire several times more and each time he shook his head the old man gave up a little line I must hold his pain where it is, he thought Mine does not matter I can control mine But his pain could drive him mad After a while the fish stopped beating at the wire and started circling slowly again The old man was gaining line steadily now But he felt faint again He lifted some sea water with his left hand and put it on his head Then he put more on and rubbed the back of his neck "I have no cramps," he said "He'll be up soon and I can last.i You have to last Don't even speak of it." He kneeled against the bow and, for a moment, slipped the line over his back again I'll rest now while he goes out on the circle and then stand up and work on him when he comes in, he decided It was a great temptation to rest in the bow and let the fish make one circle by himself without recovering any line But when the strain showed the fish had turned to come toward the boat, the old man rose to his feet and started the pivoting and the weaving pulling that brought in all the line he gained I'm tireder than I have ever been, he thought, and now the trade wind is rising But that will be good to take him in with I need that badly 169 "I'll rest on the next turn as he goes out," he said "I feel much better Then in two or three turns more I will have him." His straw hat was far on the back of his head and he sank down into the bow with the pull of the line as he felt the fish turn You work now, fish, he thought I'll take you at the turn The sea had risen considerably But it was a fair-weather breeze and he had to have it to get home "I'll just steer south and west," he said "A man is never lost at sea and it is a long island." It was on the third turn that he saw the fish first He saw him first as a dark shadow that took so long to pass under the boat that he could not believe its length "No," he said "He can't be that big." But he was that big and at the end of this circle he came to the surface only thirty yards away and the man saw his tail out of water It was higher than a big scythe blade and a very pale lavender above the dark blue water It raked back and as the fish swam just below the surface the old man could see his huge bulk and the purple stripes that banded him His dorsal fin was down and his huge pectorals were spread wide On this circle the old man could see the fish's eye and the two gray sucking fish that swain around him Sometimes they attached themselves to him Sometimes they darted off Sometimes they would swim easily in his shadow They were each over three feet long and when they swam fast they lashed their whole bodies like eels The old man was sweating now but from something else besides the sun On each calm placid turn the fish made he was gaining line and he was sure that in two turns more he would have a chance to get the harpoon in But I must get him dose, close, close, he thought I mustn't try for the head I must get the heart "Be calm and strong, old man," he said On the next circle the fish's beck was out but he was a little too far from the boat On the next circle he was still too far away but he was higher out of water and the old man was sure that by gaining some more line he could have him alongside 170 Then the Spring came, and all over the country there were little blossoms and little birds Only in the garden of the Selfish Giant it was still Winter The birds did not care to sing in it as there were no children, and the trees forgot to blossom Once a beautiful flower put its head out from the grass, but when it saw the notice-board it was so sorry for the children that it slipped back into the ground again, and went off to sleep The only people who were pleased were the Snow and the Frost 'Spring has forgotten this garden,' they cried, 'so we will live here all the year round.' The Snow covered up the grass with her great white cloak, and the Frost painted all the trees silver Then they invited the North Wind to stay with them, and he came He was wrapped in furs, and he roared all day about the garden, and blew the chimney-pots down 'This is a delightful spot,' he said, 'we must ask the Hail on a visit.' So the Hail came Every day for three hours he rattled on the roof of the castle till he broke most of the slates, and then he ran round and round the garden as fast as he could go He was dressed in grey, and his breath was like ice 'I cannot understand why the Spring is so late in coming,' said the Selfish Giant, as he sat at the window and looked out at his cold white garden; 'I hope there will be a change in the weather.' But the Spring never came, nor the Summer The Autumn gave golden fruit to every garden, but to the Giant's garden she gave none 'He is too selfish,' she said So it was always Winter there, and the North Wind, and the Hail, and the Frost, and the Snow danced about through the trees One morning the Giant was lying awake in bed when he heard some lovely music It sounded so sweet to his ears that he thought it must be the King's musicians passing by It was really only a little linnet singing outside his window, but it was so long since he had heard a bird sing in his garden that it seemed to him to be the most beautiful music in the world Then the Hail stopped dancing over his head, and the North Wind ceased roaring, and a delicious perfume came to him through the open casement 'I believe the Spring has come at last,' said the Giant; and he jumped out of bed and looked out What did he see? He saw a most wonderful sight Through a little hole in the wall the children had crept in, and they were sitting in the branches of the trees In every tree that he could see 31 He tried it once more and he felt himself going when he turned the fish The fish righted himself and swam off again slowly with the great tail weaving in the air I'll try it again, the old man promised, although his hands were mushy now and he could only see well in flashes He tried it again and it was the same So he thought, and he felt himself going before he started; I will try it once again He took all his pain and what was left of his strength and his long gone pride and he put it against the fish's agony and the fish came over onto his side and swam gently on his side, his bill almost touching the planking of the skiff and started to pass the boat, long, deep, wide, silver and barred with purple and interminable in the water The old man dropped the line and put his foot on it and lifted the harpoon as high as he could and drove it down with all his strength, and more strength he had just summoned, into the fish's side just behind the great chest fin that rose high in the air to the altitude of the man's chest He felt the iron go in and he leaned on it and drove it further and then pushed all his weight after it Then the fish came alive, with his death in him, and rose high out of the water showing all his great length and width and all his power and his beauty He seemed to hang in the air above the old man in the skiff Then he fell into the water with a crash that sent spray over the old man and over all of the skiff The old man felt faint and sick and he could not see well But he cleared the harpoon line and let it run slowly through his raw hands and, when he could see, he saw the fish was on his back with his silver belly up The shaft of the harpoon was projecting at an angle from the fish's shoulder and the sea was discolouring with the red of the blood from his heart First it was dark as a shoal in the blue water that was more than a mile deep Then it spread like a cloud The fish was silvery and still and floated with the waves The old man looked carefully in the glimpse of vision that he had Then he took two turns of the harpoon line around the bitt in the bow and hid his head on his hands "Keep my head dear," he said against the wood of the bow "I am a tired old man But I have killed this fish which is my brother and now I must the slave work." 172 Now I must prepare the nooses and the rope to lash him alongside, he thought Even if we were two and swamped her to load him and bailed her out, this skiff would never hold him I must prepare everything, then bring him in and lash him well and step the mast and set sail for home He started to pull the fish in to have him alongside so that he could pass a line through his gills and out his mouth and make his head fast alongside the bow I want to see him, he thought, and to touch and to feel him He is my fortune, he thought But that is not why I wish to feel him I think I felt his heart, he thought When I pushed on the harpoon shaft the second time Bring him in now and make him fast and get the noose around his tail and another around his middle to bind him to the skiff "Get to work, old man," he said He took a very small drink of the water "There is very much slave work to be done now that the fight is over." He looked up at the sky and then out to his fish He looked at the sun carefully It is not much more than noon, he thought And the trade wind is rising The lines all mean nothing now The boy and I will splice them when we are home "Come on, fish," he said But the fish did not come Instead he lay there wallowing now in the seas and the old man pulled the skiff upon to him When he was even with him and had the fish's head against the bow he could not believe his size But he untied the harpoon rope from the bitt, passed it through the fish's gills and out his jaws, made a turn around his sword then passed the rope through the other gill, made another turn around the bill and knotted the double rope and made it fast to the bitt in the bow He cut the rope then and went astern to noose the tail The fish had turned silver from his original purple and silver, and the stripes showed the same pale violet colour as his tail They were wider than a man's hand with his fingers spread and the fish's eye looked as detached as the mirrors in a periscope or as a saint in a procession "It was the only way to kill him," the old man said He was feeling better since the water and he knew he would not go away and his head was clear He's over fifteen hundred pounds the way he is, he thought Maybe much more If he dresses out two-thirds of that at thirty cents a pound? 173 "I need a pencil for that," he said "My head is not that clear But I think the great DiMaggio would be proud of me today I had no bone spurs But the hands and the back hurt truly." I wonder what a bone spur is, he thought Maybe we have them without knowing of it He made the fish fast to bow and stern and to the middle thwart He was so big it was like lashing a much bigger skiff alongside He cut a piece of line and tied the fish's lower jaw against his bill so his mouth would not open and they would sail as cleanly as possible Then he stepped the mast and, with the stick that was his gaff and with his boom rigged, the patched sail drew, the boat began to move, and half lying in the stern he sailed south-west He did not need a compass to tell him where southwest was He only needed the feel of the trade wind and the drawing of the sail I better put a small line out with a spoon on it and try and get something to eat and drink for the moisture But he could not find a spoon and his sardines were rotten So he hooked a patch of yellow Gulf weed with the gaff as they passed and shook it so that the small shrimps that were in it fell onto the planking of the skiff There were more than a dozen of them and they jumped and kicked like sand fleas The old man pinched their heads off with his thumb and forefinger and ate them chewing up the shells and the tails They were very tiny but he knew they were nourishing and they tasted good The old man still had two drinks of water in the bottle and he used half of one after he had eaten the shrimps The skiff was sailing well considering the handicaps and he steered with the tiller under his arm He could see the fish and he had only to look at his hands and feel his back against the stern to know that this had truly happened and was not a dream At one time when he was feeling so badly toward the end, he had thought perhaps it was a dream Then when he had seen the fish come out of the water and hang motionless in the sky before he fell, he was sure there was some great strangeness and he could not believe it.Then he could not see well, although now he saw as well as ever Now he knew there was the fish and his hands and back were no dream The hands cure quickly, he thought I bled them clean and the salt water will heal them The dark water of the true gulf is the greatest healer that there is All I must is keep the head clear The hands have done their work and we sail well With his mouth shut and his tail straight up and down we sail like brothers Then his head started to become a little 174 unclear and he thought, is he bringing me in or am I bringing him in? If I were towing him behind there would be no question Nor if the fish were in the skiff, with all dignity gone, there would be no question either But they were sailing together lashed side by side and the old man thought, let him bring me in if it pleases him I am only better than him through trickery and he meant me no harm They sailed well and the old man soaked his hands in the salt water and tried to keep his bead dear There were high cumulus clouds and enough cirrus above them so that the old man knew the breeze would last all night The old man looked at the fish constantly to make sure it was true It was an hour before the first shark hit him QUESTIONS AND SUGGESTIONS What characteristics of the old man are revealed through the extract? What you like most about this old man? How did the old man manage to attack the fish? What did he and what happened to him? How hard was the battle? How did the battle end? Comment on this ending What typical language of Hemingway’s writing styles was used thoughout the extract? What lessons can be drawn from how hard work the old man did in managing to attack such a giant marlin? 175 there was a little child And the trees were so glad to have the children back again that they had covered themselves with blossoms, and were waving their arms gently above the children's heads The birds were flying about and twittering with delight, and the flowers were looking up through the green grass and laughing It was a lovely scene, only in one corner it was still Winter It was the farthest corner of the garden, and in it was standing a little boy He was so small that he could not reach up to the branches of the tree, and he was wandering all round it, crying bitterly The poor tree was still quite covered with frost and snow, and the North Wind was blowing and roaring above it 'Climb up! little boy,' said the Tree, and it bent its branches down as low as it could; but the little boy was too tiny And the Giant's heart melted as he looked out 'How selfish I have been!' he said; 'now I know why the Spring would not come here I will put that poor little boy on the top of the tree, and then I will knock down the wall, and my garden shall be the children's playground for ever and ever.' He was really very sorry for what he had done So he crept downstairs and opened the front door quite softly, and went out into the garden But when the children saw him they were so frightened that they all ran away, and the garden became Winter again Only the little boy did not run, for his eyes were so full of tears that he died not see the Giant coming And the Giant stole up behind him and took him gently in his hand, and put him up into the tree And the tree broke at once into blossom, and the birds came and sang on it, and the little boy stretched out his two arms and flung them round the Giant's neck, and kissed him And the other children, when they saw that the Giant was not wicked any longer, came running back, and with them came the Spring 'It is your garden now, little children,' said the Giant, and he took a great axe and knocked down the wall And when the people were gong to market at twelve o'clock they found the Giant playing with the children in the most beautiful garden they had ever seen All day long they played, and in the evening they came to the Giant to bid him good-bye 'But where is your little companion?' he said: 'the boy I put into the tree.' The Giant loved him 32 ... Fellow of the Royal Society of Literature 36 PART I : ENGLISH LITERATURE HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE Old English( 450-1066) The first works in English, written in Old English, appeared in the early... 153 4.4.The man and the sea 167 PART I : ENGLISH LITERATURE HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE Old English( 450-1066) The first works in English, written in Old English, appeared in the early Middle Ages... Christian readers Middle English literature (1066-1500) In the 12th century, a new form of English now known as Middle English evolved This is the earliest form of English literature which is comprehensible