lecturas de 2º ESO

7/30/2019 lecturas de 2º ESO

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“The man who does not read good books has no advantage over the man who can't read.”

Mark Twain

2ºESO

1st

Term

Hans Christian Andersen

The Little Match-Seller

It was terribly cold and nearly dark on the last evening of the old year, and the snow was falling

fast. In the cold and the darkness, a poor little girl, with bare head and naked feet, roamed throughthe streets. It is true she had on a pair of slippers when she left home, but they were not of much

use. They were very large, so large, indeed, that they had belonged to her mother, and the poor little

creature had lost them in running across the street to avoid two carriages that were rolling along at a

terrible rate. One of the slippers she could not find, and a boy seized upon the other and ran away

with it, saying that he could use it as a cradle, when he had children of his own. So the little girl

went on with her little naked feet, which were quite red and blue with the cold.

In an old apron she carried a number of matches, and had a bundle of them in her hands. No one

had bought anything of her the whole day, nor had any one given here even a penny. Shivering with

cold and hunger, she crept along; poor little child, she looked the picture of misery. The snowflakes

fell on her long, fair hair, which hung in curls on her shoulders, but she regarded them not.

Lights were shining from every window, and there was a savory smell of roast goose, for it was

New-year's eve - yes, she remembered that. In a corner, between two houses, one of which

projected beyond the other, she sank down and huddled herself together. She had drawn her little

feet under her, but she could not keep off the cold; and she dared not go home, for she had sold no

matches, and could not take home even a penny of money. Her father would certainly beat her;

besides, it was almost as cold at home as here, for they had only the roof to cover them, through

which the wind howled, although the largest holes had been stopped up with straw and rags.

Her little hands were almost frozen with the cold. Ah! perhaps a burning match might be some

good, if she could draw it from the bundle and strike it against the wall, just to warm her fingers.

She drew one out - "scratch!" how it sputtered as it burnt! It gave a warm, bright light, like a littlecandle, as she held her hand over it. It was really a wonderful light. It seemed to the little girl that

she was sitting by a large iron stove, with polished brass feet and a brass ornament. How the fire

burned! and seemed so beautifully warm that the child stretched out her feet as if to warm them,

when, lo! the flame of the match went out, the stove vanished, and she had only the remains of the

half-burnt match in her hand.

She rubbed another match on the wall. It burst into a flame, and where its light fell upon the wall it

became as transparent as a veil, and she could see into the room. The table was covered with a

snowy white table-cloth, on which stood a splendid dinner service, and a steaming roast goose,

stuffed with apples and dried plums. And what was still more wonderful, the goose jumped down

from the dish and waddled across the floor, with a knife and fork in its breast, to the little girl. Then

the match went out, and there remained nothing but the thick, damp, cold wall before her.

She lighted another match, and then she found herself sitting under a beautiful Christmas-tree. It



was larger and more beautifully decorated than the one which she had seen through the glass door at

the rich merchant's. Thousands of tapers were burning upon the green branches, and colored

pictures, like those she had seen in the show-windows, looked down upon it all. The little one

stretched out her hand towards them, and the match went out.

The Christmas lights rose higher and higher, till they looked to her like the stars in the sky. Then she

saw a star fall, leaving behind it a bright streak of fire. "Some one is dying," thought the little girl,

for her old grandmother, the only one who had ever loved her, and who was now dead, had told her that when a star falls, a soul was going up to God.

She again rubbed a match on the wall, and the light shone round her; in the brightness stood her old

grandmother, clear and shining, yet mild and loving in her appearance.

"Grandmother," cried the little one, "O take me with you; I know you will go away when the match

burns out; you will vanish like the warm stove, the roast goose, and the large, glorious Christmas-

tree."

And she made haste to light the whole bundle of matches, for she wished to keep her grandmother

there. And the matches glowed with a light that was brighter than the noon-day, and her

grandmother had never appeared so large or so beautiful. She took the little girl in her arms, andthey both flew upwards in brightness and joy far above the earth, where there was neither cold nor

hunger nor pain, for they were with God.

In the dawn of morning there lay the poor little one, with pale cheeks and smiling mouth, leaning

against the wall; she had been frozen to death on the last evening of the year; and the New-year's

sun rose and shone upon a little corpse! The child still sat, in the stiffness of death, holding the

matches in her hand, one bundle of which was burnt.

"She tried to warm herself," said some.

No one imagined what beautiful things she had seen, nor into what glory she had entered with her

grandmother, on New-year's day.

2nd Term

Brothers Grimm

Rumpelstiltskin

Once there was a miller who was poor, but who had a beautiful daughter. Now it happened that he

had to go and speak to the king, and in order to make himself appear important he said to him, "I

have a daughter who can spin straw into gold."

The king said to the miller, "That is an art which pleases me well, if your daughter is as clever as

you say, bring her to-morrow to my palace, and I will put her to the test."

And when the girl was brought to him he took her into a room which was quite full of straw, gave

her a spinning-wheel and a reel, and said, "Now set to work, and if by to-morrow morning early you

have not spun this straw into gold during the night, you must die."

Thereupon he himself locked up the room, and left her in it alone. So there sat the poor miller's

daughter, and for the life of her could not tell what to do, she had no idea how straw could be spun

into gold, and she grew more and more frightened, until at last she began to weep.

But all at once the door opened, and in came a little man, and said, "Good evening, mistress miller,

why are you crying so?"

"Alas," answered the girl, "I have to spin straw into gold, and I do not know how to do it."

"What will you give me," said the manikin, "if I do it for you?"



"My necklace," said the girl.

The little man took the necklace, seated himself in front of the wheel, and whirr, whirr, whirr, three

turns, and the reel was full, then he put another on, and whirr, whirr, whirr, three times round, and

the second was full too. And so it went on until the morning, when all the straw was spun, and all

the reels were full of gold.

By daybreak the king was already there, and when he saw the gold he was astonished and delighted, but his heart became only more greedy. He had the miller's daughter taken into another room full of

straw, which was much larger, and commanded her to spin that also in one night if she valued her

life. The girl knew not how to help herself, and was crying, when the door opened again, and the

little man appeared, and said, "What will you give me if I spin that straw into gold for you?"

"The ring on my finger," answered the girl.

The little man took the ring, again began to turn the wheel, and by morning had spun all the straw

into glittering gold.

The king rejoiced beyond measure at the sight, but still he had not gold enough, and he had the

miller's daughter taken into a still larger room full of straw, and said, "You must spin this, too, in the

course of this night, but if you succeed, you shall be my wife."

Even if she be a miller's daughter, thought he, I could not find a richer wife in the whole world.

When the girl was alone the manikin came again for the third time, and said, "What will you give

me if I spin the straw for you this time also?"

"I have nothing left that I could give," answered the girl.

"Then promise me, if you should become queen, to give me your first child."

Who knows whether that will ever happen, thought the miller's daughter, and, not knowing how else

to help herself in this strait, she promised the manikin what he wanted, and for that he once more

spun the straw into gold.And when the king came in the morning, and found all as he had wished, he took her in marriage,

and the pretty miller's daughter became a queen.

A year after, she brought a beautiful child into the world, and she never gave a thought to the

manikin. But suddenly he came into her room, and said, "Now give me what you promised."

The queen was horror-struck, and offered the manikin all the riches of the kingdom if he would

leave her the child. But the manikin said, "No, something alive is dearer to me than all the treasures

in the world."

Then the queen began to lament and cry, so that the manikin pitied her.

"I will give you three days, time," said he, "if by that time you find out my name, then shall youkeep your child."

So the queen thought the whole night of all the names that she had ever heard, and she sent a

messenger over the country to inquire, far and wide, for any other names that there might be. When

the manikin came the next day, she began with Caspar, Melchior, Balthazar, and said all the names

she knew, one after another, but to every one the little man said, "That is not my name."

On the second day she had inquiries made in the neighborhood as to the names of the people there,

and she repeated to the manikin the most uncommon and curious. Perhaps your name is Shortribs,

or Sheepshanks, or Laceleg, but he always answered, "That is not my name."

On the third day the messenger came back again, and said, "I have not been able to find a singlenew name, but as I came to a high mountain at the end of the forest, where the fox and the hare bid

each other good night, there I saw a little house, and before the house a fire was burning, and round



about the fire quite a ridiculous little man was jumping, he hopped upon one leg, and shouted -

'To-day I bake, to-morrow brew,

the next I'll have the young queen's child.

Ha, glad am I that no one knew

that Rumpelstiltskin I am styled.'"You may imagine how glad the queen was when she heard the name. And when soon afterwards the

little man came in, and asked, "Now, mistress queen, what is my name?"

At first she said, "Is your name Conrad?"

"No."

"Is your name Harry?"

"No."

"Perhaps your name is Rumpelstiltskin?"

"The devil has told you that! The devil has told you that," cried the little man, and in his anger he plunged his right foot so deep into the earth that his whole leg went in, and then in rage he pulled at

his left leg so hard with both hands that he tore himself in two.

3rd

Term

Oscar Wilde

The Selfish Giant

Note:Oscar Wilde intended this story to be read to children

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 spring-time 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 hisconversation 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.

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 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 quitecovered 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 himup 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 the best because he had kissed him.

'We don't know,' answered the children; 'he has gone away.'

'You must tell him to be sure and come here to-morrow,' said the Giant. But the children said that

they did not know where he lived, and had never seen him before; and the Giant felt very sad.

Every afternoon, when school was over, the children came and played with the Giant. But the little

boy whom the Giant loved was never seen again. The Giant was very kind to all the children, yet he

longed for his first little friend, and often spoke of him. 'How I would like to see him!' he used to

say.

Years went over, and the Giant grew very old and feeble. He could not play about any more, so hesat in a huge armchair, and watched the children at their games, and admired his garden. 'I have

many beautiful flowers,' he said; 'but the children are the most beautiful flowers of all.'

One winter morning he looked out of his window as he was dressing. He did not hate the Winter

now, for he knew that it was merely the Spring asleep, and that the flowers were resting.

Suddenly he rubbed his eyes in wonder, and looked and looked. It certainly was a marvellous sight.

In the farthest corner of the garden was a tree quite covered with lovely white blossoms. Its

branches were all golden, and silver fruit hung down from them, and underneath it stood the little

boy he had loved.

Downstairs ran the Giant in great joy, and out into the garden. He hastened across the grass, and

came near to the child. And when he came quite close his face grew red with anger, and he said,'Who hath dared to wound thee?' For on the palms of the child's hands were the prints of two nails,

and the prints of two nails were on the little feet.

'Who hath dared to wound thee?' cried the Giant; 'tell me, that I may take my big sword and slay

him.'

'Nay!' answered the child; 'but these are the wounds of Love.'

'Who art thou?' said the Giant, and a strange awe fell on him, and he knelt before the little child.

And the child smiled on the Giant, and said to him, 'You let me play once in your garden, to-day

you shall come with me to my garden, which is Paradise.'

And when the children ran in that afternoon, they found the Giant lying dead under the tree, all

covered with white blossoms.

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