(after John Galsworthy)
The actor Gilbert Caister had been out of work for six months before, quite by chance, he was engaged to play secondary parts at a theatre on temp. He was sure ho would not make a fortune but ft certain cheerfulness returned to him after he had played in the opening performance.
One afternoon Caister was walking along the street of a seaside town where he was staying with the company. Fixing his monocle he stopped before a fishmonger's and, with a faint smile on his face, regarded a lobster. Ages since ha had eaten a lobster. He moved up the street and stopped before some shop windows to look at the suits, huts and shoes. He imagined himself in new clothes.
He walked on and become conscious that he had passed a face he knew. He saw a man looking in his direction and recognized the manager of a drama theatre he had worked at some years before.
"Bryce Green, by George".
"Caister, It is. Haven't seen yon since you left us. I'm glad to see you. Doing anything with yourself? Come and have lunch with me".
"I'll be delighted, Mr. Green", answered Caister thinking that he had not had a good lunch for a long time.
And the two walked side by side.
"Do you know this place? Let’s go in here. Phillis, cocktails for my friend Mr. Caister and myself and caviare on biscuits. Mr. Caister is playing here. You must go and see him."
The girl who served the cocktails and caviar looked up at Caister with interest.
"Bring your cocktail along, Caister, we'll go into the little further room. There'll be nobody there. What shall we have - a lobster?"
And Caister murmured, "I love lobster".
"Very fine and large here. And how are you, Caister?"
"Thanks, I’m all right", said Caister.
"Sit here. Waiter, bring us a good big lobster and a salad and then a beefsteak with potatoes and a bottle of wine".
The manager was friendly and mentioned more than once that Caister was the only real actor he had ever had at his theatre. Caister knew that his future depended on whether he would give the impression of a well-to-do person or of a famous actor.
They sat down opposite each other at one of the two small tables in the little room.
"Luck", said Bryce Green.
"Luck", replied Caister.
"And what do you think of the state of the drama?"
Caister thought a little and answered: Quite awful".
"Hmm, Yes", said Bryce Green "nobody with any genius is there". And Caister thought, "nobody with any money".
"Have you been playing anything great?"
"Nothing in particular".
"Have a cigar. Waiter, coffee and cigars. I shall come and see you tonight. Suppose you'll be here a week".
Green seemed to be pleased to have met Caister and the actor hoped there was a chance to be employed again. He looked at Green with grateful eyes expecting to hear his proposal.
Bryce Green was sitting with a cigar held out and his mouth a little open, his eyes were round and fixed on some object near the table. Had he burnt his mouth? Ha looked at Caister, licked his lips nervously and said: "I say, old chap, don't think me a best… - I mean - if I can be of any service, don't hesitate. Old acquaintance, don't you know and all that -"
His eyes rolled again towards the object and Caister followed them. Out there above the carpet he saw it - his own boot. His boot torn right across.
And from the boot ha looked at Bryce Green, smiled bitterly and said: "Not at all, thanks".
He could not help telling Green that he was almost starving, his talent was ruined by playing anything he was offered because drama actors were seldom wanted after the war.
A moment later the manager paid the bill and rose.
"Old chap, excuse me; an engagement at half past two. So awfully glad to have seen you. Good bye."
"Good bye", answered Caister, "Thanks".
He remained alone looking into his empty cup. Alone with his heart, his boot, his life to come.
The waiter came skating round as if he desired to clear. Must go.
Caister straightened his back; his smile crept out, he fixed his monocle.
"If you are quite finished, may I clear?"
"Certainly, I'm going"'. He gathered himself and rose. The young women sitting at the other table looked at him.
Elegant, with a faint smile, he passed close by them managing not to let them see his broken boot.
* * *
PRECIS I
A summary of a passage from a book, report, newspaper, article, etc, which conveys the main idea of the original is called a precis.
Precis writing is of great importance to any student as it trains him to understand the meaning of what he reads, to think clearly, to construct his writing in an orderly and logical way.
The basic requirements for precis writing seem to be the following:
1. to understand thoroughly the main idea,
2. to be able to extract the essential facts and ideas from the passage,
3. to keep the logical connection between these facts and ideas,
4. to present the main idea and the essential facts and ideas in logically connected paragraphs. (The length of the precis should be about one third that of the original. The writer is not supposed to introduce his own ideas or comments though he can use his own language),
5. to keep to one tense-form, past or present,
6. to render dialogues in ordinary prose avoiding indirect speech.