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Ще один цікавий твір відомого англійського майстра Артура Конан Дойля, який показує його майстерність не лише як автора детективів, а й письменника з чудовим почуттям гумору "Crabbe's practice" до вашої уваги. Читання автентичних творів розширює та збагачує лексичний запас учнів і дарує можливість закохатися в англійську класичну літературу. Завдання до тексту спонукають до обговорення прочитаного, а ідіоматичні одиниці допомагають краще розуміти багатство мови.
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                                            Crabbe’s practice

                                         (Arthur Conan Doyle)

I don’t know whether many people remember Tom Crabbe when he was a student in this city. Probably not many , though he was a powerfully built fellow, always in a good mood, always laughing, with a voice like the roar of a lion.

Crabbe graduated from a college a year before I did, and went to a large port town in the south to start practicing medicine. A brilliant career seemed to lie before him, besides his excellent knowledge of medicine he had that special manner that makes a patient believe in him at once.

Crabbe went there with his “young” diploma and his still young wife to settle in this town, which we shall call Brisport. For some time, I heard little about my friend. I once read a short article by him in a research journal, but that was all.

One day, to my surprise I received a telegram from Mrs. Crabbe asking me to come down to Brisport and see her husband, as he was not at all well. I started by the next train, seriously worried about my friend. Mrs. Crabbe met me at the station. She told me Tom became very nervous; he had almost no patients, the house and his doctor’s office cost more than they could afford and they hoped I would be able to give them some advice.

I found Crabbe looking much worse than I had ever seen him. He was thin and pale, his eyes had lost their old fire, he never laughed and seldom even smiled: there was nothing to remind me of the energetic, strong young man I had known.

After dinner the three of us held a meeting – it was more like a council of war – at which Tom spoke of his troubles.  “What can I do, Jack?” he asked. “People here simply don’t know that I exist. There are too many doctors here already, and most of them don’t know more about medicine that I know about dressmaking. But how will people ever learn that I’m a better doctor?”

“Can’t you invent a patient with a strange illness that you can discuss in a medical journal? And then, we can arrange an interview with newspaper reporters.”

“Newspapers?” Crabbe said thoughtfully. ”Hm! Not a bad idea. It’s worth thinking about. But we’ll do that tomorrow morning. You’re tired now and sleep is a necessary part of human life.”

We had another council of war the next day. It was Sunday, and as we sat at the window smoking and watching the crowds in the street, we discussed many plans for achieving public recognition.

“I have tried jumping up and running out of church in the middle of the service, when I was sure people would notice me,” he said sadly. ”But nobody knows who I am; and I can’t explain that I am a doctor hurrying to one of my many patients. I’ve tried other things too, but I failed every time.”

“We need some kind of an accident, that will bring your name to the attention of the public.”

“My dear fellow, that’s just what I want. If I can get my name in newspaper, it will be worth five hundred pounds a year, or even more. But how can I do it, except by starting a fight in the street and being arrested?”

“Look her, Tom”, I said. ”You want your name in the newspapers, right?”

“Yes, of course.”

‘Well, you’ll have it!”

‘How? What do you mean?”

“There’s a rather big crowd of people coming out of the church – do you see them? Now, if there is an accident in the street in front of them, it will make a good, big noise, won’t it?”

“Are you going to tell me to shoot into the crowd, and then get the wounded into my office?”

“No. But suppose an article appears tomorrow in the newspaper : ”Unfortunate accident in George Street.- The people who were leaving George Street church after the morning service were frightened when they saw a well- dressed young man fall to the ground. He was taken up and carried in terrible convulsions into the office of the well-known doctor, Thomas Crabbe, whose house is across the street from the church. We are happy to say that the skillful attention he received quickly led to an improvement in his condition, and that the gentleman, who is an important visitor in our city is now resting in his hotel.” How does that sound?”

‘Wonderful, Jack,- wonderful!”

“Well, my boy, I am your well- dressed visitor to Brisport, and I am going now to fall down outside of your garden gate.” And I stood up and put on my hat.

‘Wait a moment? I want to think,” said Tom, and he sat smoking for 5 minutes. ”Sit down, Jack,” he continued at last. ”I think we can do something better. You see, convulsions- epilepsy, I suppose – don’t usually kill people. I doubt whether I can become famous with a patient suffering from epilepsy. I have another idea. Can you swim?”

“A little.”

‘You are not afraid of water?”

‘Not at all.”

“Then come out with me, there are a few places we must visit.”

We walked in silence down to the sea, where Tom called to a boatman: "Do you let out boats?"

"Yes, sir," answered the man.

"Thank you," said Tom, and walked away without listening to the man's expressions of disappointment.

Our next stop was at the Seaside Hotel. Had they any empty rooms? Yes, they had. We then directed our steps to a chemist's. Did he have a galvanic battery ? Again the same answer, and with a satisfied smile, we went home.

That evening, he told us the details of his plan. The council of three changed it a little, improved it and accepted it. Immediately I went straight to the Brisport hotel and took a small room there. It was less comfortable than the room I had given up at Tom's house, but I didn't think of comfort. And the next morning, as I hurried out of the hotel, I thought: "If Tom's name doesn't appear in the newspapers today, it won't be my fault."

It was a fine day; the sun was shining brightly and the streets were crowded. The big clock in the public square showed ten as I crossed the road to the iron bridge where we had arranged to meet; and I recognized the man on the bridge immediately as Thomas Crabbe, Doctor of Medicine. I passed him without a sign of recognition  and went down to the boatman.

"Can I have a boat for an hour?" I asked.

He smiled with pleasure. "Of course, sir. Do you want me to row, sir? »

«Yes, I suppose that will be better," I answered. "Take me to this dock; I want to look at the ships there.

"Very good, sir," he said, and he rowed me here and there for almost an hour and then we returned. When we were near the shore, I said “Now let me row a little, I need physical exercise.” And I stood up and said, "Let's change places.”

"Careful, sir!" the boatman shouted, but he was too late; with a loud cry I fell out of the boat into the water. it wasn't very pleasant to feel the dirty, cold water closing over my head.

 But there was no danger; the water wasn't deep and my feet touched the bottom almost immediately. I pushed myself up, and as soon as my head appeared on the surface, the boatman caught me by the hair, shouting,

"Don't struggle, I'll save you!" And I could hear shouts from the shore: "Save him. There he is!

'Swim out to him!" I shook the boatman's hand off and went down again. I held my head under the water as long as I could; but when I came up again, the boatman caught me, and I couldn't shake him off. He held me with my head under the water and rowed straight to the shore - it was really quite near - and soon I lay on the sand, pretending to be dead.

"It's all over, poor fellow, someone said. "Send for a doctor," said another voice.

"Turn him over. Feel his pulse.

"Stop!" said a loud voice. "Stop!" Can I help here?

I am a doctor. What has happened?"

"Move back! Let the doctor examine him!"

"My name is Doctor Crabbe. Poor young gentleman.

I'm afraid he's dead." Tom took off his hat, and so did others around me.

"But perhaps there is still a chance,

Tom continued.

"Carry him up to the hotel."

In the hotel, they put me on the softest bed. News of the accident had spread, a noisy crowd had gathered in the street outside, and there were more people on the stairs leading to the room where I lay. Tom let only a few of the most important people in, and a newspaper correspondent; but he issued bulletins  out of the window every five minutes to the crowd. "Quite dead," I heard him. "His heart has stopped beating but we shall continue our efforts to bring him back, it is our duty. We shall try Marshall Hall's method."

The citizens stood round in a silent circle, as Tom took off his coat and, climbing on the bed began to pull and push me and throw me here and there in a manner that made every bone hurt. He stopped after some time, ran to the window and roared: "No sign of life," and then came back and began all over again. "It is hopeless," he said at last. "He's dead. Poor young man!" And he went to the door and opened it. But at that moment a thought seemed to come to him  and he turned back. "There is one possible way," he said. "We have not tried electricity, which is in some ways like nervous force. Is there a chemist's shop near?"

"Yes, Doctor. McLagan's, at the corner."

"Then run! A human life depends on it. Get his strongest battery, quick!" And half the crowd ran away at high speed. They came back very red and hot, and one of them carried a shining wooden box in his arms.

"Now, gentlemen," said Tom. "I think I am the first medical man in Great Britain who has used electricity with this aim. In my student days I have seen the great Rokitansky of Paris use it in experiments on dead cats. I put the negative pole on his right arm, the other pole on the left leg. I have seen surprising results with cats. Perhaps with a human being.

There were results. Whether it was an accident, or whether it was Tom's idea of a joke, I can't say. Later, he insisted it was an accident; but he sent the strongest current of a powerful battery through me. With a shout that could be heard out in the street, I jumped from the bed into the middle of the room. I was full of electricity; my hair stood up, I thought my eyes were about to fall out of my head.

"You idiot!" I shouted at Tom. "Wasn't it enough for you to break all my bones? Was it necessary to destroy everything in me with that machine?"

Never was there such fear as I saw in the faces of that circle of people; never have I seen a group of people of that age and weight move with such speed. The newspaper correspondent was the first, the other respectable man followed him. Tom alone did not lose his head. "A miracle! " he shouted from the window. "A miracle! Our friend has returned to us. Send for a taxi." And softly to me:

"For God's sake! Jack, be calm! Lie down on the bed again." He ran back to the window and spoke to the crowd.

"He is alive, but he is weak and his mind!”

“ Please, let the taxi come up to the hotel entrance. That's right! Now, help me to take him to the car." They supported me downstairs and pushed me into the taxi and before getting in with me, Tom said to the people around us: "I consider him out of danger now?

If anybody has any information about this poor young gentleman, please, come to me. My address is 81, George Street. Remember, , Doctor Crabbe, 81, George Street." And he closed the door before I could say anything worse than I had already said, and we drove away, followed by the enthusiastic shouts of the admiring crowd.

Unfortunately, I could not stay in Brisport long enough to see the effect of our wonderful performance.

Tom gave us a champagne supper that night. We were in a wonderful mood and the fun was at its highest, when a telegram was brought to me, ordering me to return to my job in Manchester. I waited until I could buy the newspaper the next morning, and I spent the uninteresting train trip reading about my accident. There was almost half a page devoted to the story and to Doctor Crabbe's talent and the wonderful effect of electricity on a dead man. The story was repeated in shorter form in the London newspapers, and later was discussed seriously in a medical journal.

The following letter that I received from Tom threw light on his position in Brisport:

Greeting to the Man I Brought Back to Life

I suppose you want to know about my affairs in Brisport. Well, I’ll tell you. The other doctors are losing patients every day: if I don't help them, they will have to give up practising medicine completely

The day after our little joke, a lady came with a child which had cut its leg, and there was another lady with a cut on her head. A man with bronchitis. Three patients suffering from grippe. And after that, at least half a dozen new names in my book every week.

Let me know whenever you decide to begin your own business, I’ll come and help you: if necessary, I’ll stand on head in the public square all day.

Good-bye. Love from my wife.

                                                                  Ever yours

                                                                  Thomas Crabbe

81, George Street

Brisport

 

 

 

 

  1.     Answer the questions.

 

  1. What do we know about Mr. Crabbe? What was he and how did he appear in Brisport?
  2. What was the main problem of Dr Crabbe in Brisport?
  3. What was the reason of  the narrator’s appearance in the town?
  4. Why the residents of Brisport didn’t see a doctor in Tom Crabbe?
  5. How did Jack help his friend at first?
  6. What did he do nearby the river?
  7. How did he save Tom after the water falling?
  8. What was the second “help”?
  9. Did the narrator expect his friend’s actions?
  10. Describe the reaction of the narrator after his electric therapy. How did he feel himself?
  11. Could Jack see the results of his perfect performance?
  12. How did the letter throw light on Tom’s position in Brisport?

 

  1.     Choose the correct idiom.

To be over the moon, to be down in the dumps, to blow smb’s top, to be on edge, to get on smb’s nerves, to be green with envy, to lose face, to be tearing smb’s hair out, to be in two minds (about something)

After graduating the university two friends did not see each other for a while, but one day the narrator received a letter from Thomas Crabbe’s wife who asked him to help her husband. She was on 1) ________ because his eyes had lost their old fire and he was 2) ___________.

I was disappointed and in 3)__________ about this difficult situation,  but I decided to visit the couple and do the best I could do for them.

Thomas told me about his troubles in Brisport and said that the rent of his house and office was very high and all thoughts about his misfortune 4) ___________his__________. Sometimes he was furious and 5) ______________ because he saw the full success of his colleagues. He didn’t want to 6) ___________his __________ and proved that he was okey. Thomas’s health was poor and sometimes he was 7) _________his___________ in grief and disillusion.

Thomas and his poor wife 8) _________over__________ to see me at their house. But if only I knew how that meeting would 9) ____________on my__________ !

 

Key:

  1.      on edge
  2.      down in the dumps
  3.      two minds
  4.      blew… top
  5.      green with envy
  6.      lose… face
  7.      tearing … hair out
  8.      were … the moon
  9.      play… nerves