Моє місто. я люблю його найбільше. Адже я в ньому народився, в ньому виріс, і живу в ньому зараз. Немає нічого дорожче рідного міста. У ньому є чудові парки, сквери, багато чудових фонтанів, будинків. Моє місто-Бобровиця
Butterflies are an insect that live anywhere from 2 days to as long as 11 months. They go through a four-step process called metamorphosis – from egg, to caterpillar, to chrysalis to a butterfly.
Great expectations— Hey, shut up! — there was a terrible cry, and among the graves, near the porch, suddenly a grown man. — Don't yell, you little devil, or I'll cut your throat!Scary man in a rough gray clothes, with a heavy chain on his leg! Man without a hat, broken shoes, the head is wrapped with some cloth. The man who, as can be seen, the IOC in water and crawling through the mud, knocked down and hurt his feet on the rocks, which were burning nettle, and plucked off the thorns! He was limping and shaking, staring eyes and gasped suddenly, loudly chattering teeth, grabbed me by the chin.— Oh, don't cut me, sir! in horror I pleaded. — Please, sir, don't!— What's your name? — asked the man. — Well, now!— PIP, sir.How, how? — asked the man, drilling me with her eyes. — Say that again.— PIP. PIP, sir.— Where do you live? — asked the man. — Show me!I pointed to where on a flat coastal lowlands, a good mile from the Church, nestled in alder and winds our village.After looking at me for a moment, the man turned me upside down and emptied my pockets. They had nothing, except for a piece of bread. When the Church was in place, and he was so agile and strong that once tipped it upside down, so the bell ended up at my feet, — and so, when the Church was in place, it turned out that I was sitting on a high tombstone, and he eats my bread.
Wow, puppy, ' said the man, licking his lips. — Wow, what fat cheeks!It is possible that they were really thick, although I at that time was small for his age and did not differ good addition.— As if I ate them, ' said the man furiously shook his head, — and may the hell, I'm for real and eat it.I very seriously asked him not to do this and tightened his grasp on the tombstone on which he put me, — partly in order not to fall, partly in order to hold back the tears.— Hey you, ' said the man. — Where's your mother?— Here, sir, ' I said.He winced and rushed past, then stopped, looked over his shoulder.— Here, sir, ' I explained timidly. — "Also Georgiana". This is my mother.— Ah, — he said, returning. — And this, next to your mother, your father?— Yes, sir, ' I said. — It is also here: "a Resident of this parish.""So," he said and paused. — Who do you live with, or rather, with whom he lived, because I still haven't decided to let you live or not.— With my sister, sir. Mrs. Joe Gargery. She was the wife of the blacksmith, sir.Blacksmith, you say? — he asked. And looked at his leg.He transferred the frown with his feet on me and back, then came close to me, grabbed him by the shoulders and threw back as he could then, so that his eyes searchingly looked down at me and my confused looked up at him.— Now listen, — he said, — and remember that I haven't decided to let you live or not. What file, you know?— Yes, sir.What is a grub, you know?— Yes, sir.After each question he lightly shook me, so that I felt the danger facing me and his complete helplessness.— I'll get the file. — It jolted me. And going to get some grub. — He again shook me. And bring it here. — He again shook me. — I will rip out your heart with the liver. — He again shook me.