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Speaking clearly. Improving voice and articulation: Фонетический практикум

Голосов: 11

В практикуме указываются причины появления русского акцента в речи русскоязычных студентов, говорящих на английском языке, и приводятся методические приемы и упражнения по его устранению. Упражнения способствуют лучшему усвоению и тренировке английского произношения, ритма, закреплению интонационных моделей в двух видах речевой деятельности: чтении и спонтанном говорении. Данный практикум предназначен для студентов гуманитарных факультетов, факультетов прикладных наук, аспирантов, преподавателей, а также всех желающих улучшить английское произношение и приобрести английский акцент при изучении английского языка.

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Изображения (картинки, формулы, графики) отсутствуют.
Jim.             Oh, no. He produces jam in tubes, and tins of sausages
                 and onion stew, and sells them in Europe. I read about
                 Hugh in the newspaper yesterday.
Jack.            Oh! Well, he wasn’t so stupid.

       A horrible accident /h/
Helen.          Hello, Ellen.
Ellen.          Hello, Helen. Have you heard? There’s been a horrible
Helen.          Oh, dear! What’s happened?
Ellen.          Hilda Higgins’ husband has had an accident on his
Helen.          How awful! Is he injured?
Ellen.          Yes. An ambulance has taken him to hospital.
Helen.          How did it happen?
Ellen.          He was hit by an express train. It was on the crossing
                just behind his house.
Helen.          How horrible!
Ellen.          He’s having an important operation in hospital now.
                Poor Hilda! She’s so unhappy.
Helen.          Perhaps he’ll be all right.
Ellen.          I hope so.

       Gossips   /_/
Judith.           Edith Smith is only thirty.
Ethel.            Is she? I thought she was thirty-three.
Judith.           Edith’s birthday was last Thursday.
Ethel.            Was it? I thought it was last month.
Judith.           The Smiths’ house is worth thirty thousand pounds.
Ethel.            Is it? I thought it was worth three thousand.
Judith.           Mr Smith is the author of a book about moths.
Ethel.            Is he? I thought he was a mathematician.
Judith.           I’m so thirsty.
Ethel.            Are you? I thought you drank something at the Smiths’.
Judith.           No. Edith gave me nothing to drink.
Ethel.            Shall I buy you a drink?
Judith.           Thank you.

     The hat in the window / /
Miss Brothers. I want to buy the hat in the window.

Assistant.     There are three hats together in the window, madam.
               Do you want the one with the feathers?
Miss Brothers. No. The other one.
Assistant.     The small one for three pounds?
Miss Brothers. No. Not that one either. That one over there.
               The leather one.
Assistant.     Ah! The leather one. Now this is another leather
               hat, madam. It’s better than the one in the window.
               It’s a smoother leather.
Miss Brothers. I’d rather have the one in the window. It goes with
               my clothes.
Assistant.     Certainly, madam. But we don’t take anything out of
               the window until three o’clock on Thursday.

     Mum’s crumpets /m/
Jim.        Mum, may Tom Mitcham come home with me for tea
Mrs Smith.  Of course, Jim. Have I met Tom before?
Jim.        You met him in the summer. He’s very small and
Mrs Smith.  Oh, yes. I remember Tom. Does his family come from
Jim.        Yes. Oh, Mum! Will you make some home-made
            crumpets tomorrow?
Mrs Smith.  Mm … maybe. If I have time.
Jim.        I told Tom about your crumpets, Mum. That’s why
            he’s coming for tea tomorrow!

    At an accommodation agency /n/
Mr Mason.    Good morning. I want an apartment in central
Manager.     Certainly, sir. How much rent did you want to pay?
Mr Mason.    No more than $ 27 a month.
Manager.     $ 27 a month? We don’t often have apartments as
             inexpensive as that. We have one apartment for $29
             a month in Northend Avenue. It’s down near the
Mr Mason.    Is it furnished?

Manager.       No. It’s unfurnished. The kitchen has no oven. It’s
               forbidden to use the garden. No friends in the
               apartment after eleven in the evening. No noise and
               no television after 11.15. No …
Mr Mason.      No thank you! I want an apartment, not a prison!

     Noisy neighbours /%/
Mr Pring.    (angrily). Bang! Bang! Bang! What are the Kings doing
             at seven o’clock on Sunday morning?
Mrs Pring.   Well, Mr King is singing.
Mr Pring.    Yes, but what’s the banging noise?
Mrs Pring.   (looking out of the window) He’s standing on a ladder
             and banging some nails into the wall with a hammer.
             Now he’s hanging some strong string on the nails.
Mr Pring.    And what’s Mrs King doing?
Mrs Pring.   She’s bringing something pink for Mr King to drink.
             Now she’s putting it under the ladder, and … Ohh!
Mr Pring.    What’s happening?
Mrs Pring.   The ladder’s falling.
Mr Pring.    What’s Mr King doing?
Mrs Pring.   He’s hanging from the string. He’s holding the string in
             his fingers and he’s shouting to Mrs King.
Mr Pring.    And is she helping him?
Mrs Pring.   No. She’s running to our house. Now she’s ringing our
Mr Pring.    I’m not going to answer it. I’m sleeping.

     Early for lunch /l/
Mr Allen.     Hello, Lily. You’re looking lovely today.
Waitress.     Hello, Mr Allen. You’re early for lunch. It’s only eleven
Mr Allen.     When I come later there’s usually nothing left.
Waitress.     What would you like?
Mr Allen.     Leg of lamb, please.
Waitress.     And would you like a plate of salad? It’s lettuce with
              black olives.
Mr Allen.     Marvellous! I love olives.
Waitress.     And would you like a glass of lemonade?
Mr Allen.     Yes please, Lily. And a slice of melon and some yellow

      A spoilt   little boy in a bicycle shop / /
Paul.             What a beautiful bicycle!
Uncle Bill.       Paul! Be careful!
Salesman.         Excuse me, sir. This child is too small to ride this
                  bicycle. It’s a very difficult bicycle to...
…Uncle Bill.      Be careful, Paul!
 Paul.            You always tell me to be careful. Don’t help me.
                  I won’t fall.
Salesman.         But, sir. This is a very special bicycle. It’s ...
Paul.             Don’t pull the bicycle, Uncle Bill. I’ll do it myself.
Uncle Bill.       Be sensible, Paul. This gentleman says it’s a ... … (Paul
Paul.             It was Uncle Bill’s fault. He was holding the bicycle.

     A proud parent /r/
Mrs Randal. Are all the children grown up now, Ruth?
Mrs Reed.    Oh, yes. Laura is the cleverest one. She’s a librarian in
             the public library.
Mrs Randal. Very interesting. And what about Rita?
Mrs Reed.    She’s a secretary at the railway station.
Mrs Randal. And what about Rosemary? She was always a very pretty
Mrs Reed.    Rosemary is a waitress in a restaurant in Paris. She’s
             married to an electrician.
Mrs Randal. And what about Jerry and Roland?
Mrs Reed.    Jerry drives a lorry. He drives everywhere in Europe.
Mrs Randal. Really? Which countries does he drive to?
Mrs Reed.    France and Austria and Greece and Russia.
Mrs Randal. And does Roland drive a lorry too?

Mrs Reed.        Oh, no. Roland is a pilot.
Mrs Randal.      Really? Which countries does he fly to?
Mrs Reed.        Australia and America.
                     From: Ann Baker. Shi p or Sheep? An Intermediate
                                    Pronunciation Course. New Edition.
                                       Cambridge University Press. 1995

      U N I T VI
                    READING AND SPEAKING


     Listen to the texts. Intone the texts, divide them into rhythmic
groups. Memorize the texts and present them in class.
     Short stories and anecdotes. Phonetics Tutor of Bell’s School of
Languages.Cambridge. England.

                      Balzac as a Handwriting Expert
      Balzac, the famous French writer, was a man of great talent. But
he himself was proud of his ability to tell a person’s character by his
or her handwriting. He often told his friends that he could tell anybody’s
character exactly by his handwriting.
      One day a woman friend brought him a young boy’s exercise
book. She said that she wanted to know what Balzac thought of the
boy’s character. Balzac studied the handwriting carefully for a few
minutes. The woman, however, told him that the boy was not her
son and that he might tell her the truth.
      «All right», said Balzac. «I shall tell you the truth». And he said
that the boy was a bad, lazy fellow.
      «It’s very strange», said the woman smiling. «This is a page from
your own exercise book, which you used when you were a boy».
     (The same story retold in my own words)
     ... …er...… The famous French novelist Balzac was a very talented
man. But he himself er…... set more store by his... er... er... ability... er…... to
                       …                            …     …     …          …

read character in handwriting. He often told his friends that he could
do this no matter what handwriting he saw for anybody. So a friend of
his a woman... er... brought him an exercise book a boy’s exercise book.
                …    …
And she said she wanted to know what Balzac thought of the writer.
Balzac looked at the handwriting carefully. And the woman told him
that as the boy wasn’t her son…... er...… Balzac could be quite frank. «All
right», said Balzac. «I’ll tell you exactly what I think». And he said that
the boy was lazy and naughty. «It’s very odd», said the woman with a
smile. «This handwriting comes from a page in your own exercise book
which you wrote in when you were a boy yourself».

                        The Bullet-Proof Jacket
      A man once called on a general, and showed him a jacket which
he had invented for soldiers and which he said was bullet-proof.
      «Oh!», said the general. «Put it on!»
      Then he rang the bell and said to the servant, «Tell the captain
to load his gun and come here».
      The inventor of the bullet-proof jacket disappeared and the
general never saw him again.
         (The same anecdote retold in my own words)
         A man, an inventor once brought what he claimed to be a
bullet-proof jacket to show to a general, commanding officer. The
general wasn’t... …er... …particularly impressed. So he said, «Put it on».
And he rang and said to the servant who came, «Get the captain to ...
…er... …load his gun and come up here». When the man in the bullet-
proof jacket heard this however he was off like a flash. The general
never saw him again.

                           The Dumb Beggar
     A beggar made up his mind that he would pretend to be dumb.
He arrived at a town where he had begged before. In one of the streets
a gentleman who had given him money and so remembered his face
met him and spoke to him.
     The beggar didn’t say a word. «Hello!», cried the gentleman,
«How long have you been dumb?» — «Ever since I was a baby»,
answered the beggar.
      (The same anecdote in my own words)

      A man went begging and decided that this time in order to
attract more attention and sympathy he would play at being dumb. So
he went out into a street and before long he ran into a man who knew
him by sight, had met him before…... and had met him…... er... …of course
when he was still speaking. So the man went up to him. «Hello», he
said. Beggar didn’t reply. «Sorry, I remember you.» Not a word. «How
long have you been dumb?» asked the man. «Ever since I was a child»,
replied the beggar.

                         Mark Twain in France
      Mark Twain, the famous American writer, was travelling in
France. Once he was going by train to Dijon. That afternoon he was
very tired and wanted to sleep. He therefore asked the conductor to
wake him up when they came to Dijon. But first he explained that he
was a very heavy sleeper. «I’ll probably protest loudly when you try to
wake me up», he said to the conductor. «But do not take any notice,
just put me off the train anyway».
      Then Mark Twain went to sleep. Later, when he woke up, it was
night-time and the train was in Paris already. He realized at once that
the conductor had forgotten to wake him up at Dijon. He was very
angry. He ran up to the conductor and began to shout at him. «I have
never been so angry in all my life», Mark Twain said.
      The conductor looked at him calmly. «You are not half so angry
as the American whom I put off the train at Dijon», he said.
       (The same story again read in more natural English)
       The famous American writer Mark Twain was travelling in France.
On one occasion he was going to Dijon by train. He felt very... er...
tired and... er... decided to go to sleep in the afternoon. So he asked the
conductor to wake him up when they got to Dijon. But he had to
point out first that he was a very heavy sleeper and that he’ll probably
make an awful fuss, when the conductor came to wake him. «Don’t
take any notice», he said to the conductor. «Just put me off the train
despite the fuss». So Mark Twain went to sleep.
       Eventually he woke up when it was night-time. The train was in
Paris. He realized at once what had happened. The conductor had fol…
forgotten to wake him up at Dijon. He was furious. He rushed up to
the conductor and started shouting at him. «I’ve never been so out-
raged in all my life», Mark Twain said. The conductor looked at him

quietly. «You are not half so annoyed as the American who I put off at
Dijon», he said.

                               Poor Man
      A poor man knocked to the door of the house asking for some
bread or some money. «Madam, can you give me anything?» — «My
good man», said the lady, «I have no money at all. But if there is
anything to sew or mend I can do it for you».
      «Madam, if you cannot give me anything, if you are kind
enough to do something for me, here is a button, please, sew a pair of
trousers on it.»
      (The same anecdote in my own words)
      A beggar went up to the door of a house and knocked. And a
woman came to open it. And he asked her if she had anything to give
him, ...…could he have some bread, something to eat, a little money to
buy something to eat perhaps. And... er... she apologized. She was very
sorry, she hadn’t got any money with her. «But... er... if you’ve any
mending to do, any sewing, I’ll gladly do it for you», she said.
«Well, it’s like this, if I give you a button could you sew a pair of
trousers on to it for me.»

                         An Awkward Situation
      One of the guests turned to a man by his side and criticized the
woman who was singing. «What a terrible voice! Do you know who she
is?» — «Yes», was the answer. «She is my wife.» — «Oh! I beg your
pardon. Of course, her voice isn’t bad, but the song is very bad. I
wonder who wrote that awful song?» — «I did», was the answer.
       (The same story told in my own words)
       At the party two guests were sitting near each other and a
woman was singing after dinner. One of the guests turned to the
other, to his neighbour and said, «What a dreadful voice she’s got!
Who on earth can she be? Do you know who she is?» — «Yes», was
the reply. «It’s my wife.» — «Oh, I’m I’m terribly sorry. Of course...
er... her voice isn’t bad really, it’s the the song is so awful. It must be
terribly difficult to sing. I wonder who wrote it?» The neighbour
replied surly, «I did.»

                       The Smoking Chimney
      One afternoon Professor Phili ps was walking along a country
road when he saw a farmer eating his supper alone in the road before
his house. The professor approached the farmer and asked him,
«Why are you eating here alone?» — «Well, sir», answered the farmer
after a short pause, «the chimney smokes.» — «That is too bad», said
the professor. «You must have it repaired. Let’s have a look at it.»
      And before the farmer could say a word the professor tried to
enter the farmer’s house. As soon as he opened the door a broom fell
on his shoulders and a woman’s voice cried «Go away, you old rascal,
or I’ll kill you...».
      The professor left the house quickly. The farmer sat in the road
looking very unhappy. The professor approached him and put his
hand on his shoulder. «Never mind», said he, «my chimney smokes
sometimes too...».

                      The King and the Critic
      A king liked to write stories which he thought were very good.
The people to whom he showed them were afraid to criticize them.
They said that his stories were good.
      One day he showed some of them to a well-known critic who
said that his stories were bad. The king got angry with him and sent
him to prison.
      After some time the king pardoned the critic and when he
returned invited him to his palace to dinner. Again he showed him
some of his stories and again asked him what he thought of them.
      The critic turned to the guards who were standing behind him
and said, «Take me back to prison.»

                            The Bell-boy
      A traveler was standing at the desk in the lobby of a Washington
hotel. He was in a hurry. He had only ten minutes to pay his bill and
reach the station. Suddenly he remembered that he had forgotten
      He called the bell-boy and said, «Run up to Room 48 and see
whether I left a box on the table. Be quick, I am in a hurry.»
      The boy ran up the stairs. Five minutes passed, and the gentle-
man was walking up and down impatiently.

       At last the boy came back. «Yes, sir», he said, «Yes, sir, you left
it there. It’s on the table.»

                           S E C T I O N II


            Programme I. Text One. Topic: A Quiet Life

       Felix Catt is a typical resident of Siberia Avenue, Surbiton. He
looks gloomy, but in fact he is quite happy, and he leads a quiet life
in this suburb of London. His wife Girtie looks after him carefully;
she cleans the house regularly, and feeds him daily on well cooked
meat and tinned vegetables. There is always a supply of fresh water for
his whisky, and plenty of carpet space for putting practice, so he is
very comfortable and content with suburban life.
       Felix is very fond of his old dog, Sam. They go for walks
together on Sundays. Today he is taking Sam to the local vet, because
he is afraid that he is going blind. However, the vet is confident of
curing him by means of a small operation. He is giving Sam an injec-
tion before operating on him, so that he will sleep peacefully the
whole time and not feel any pain. There is even a pretty nurse standing
by to comfort Sam in case he feels unhappy and lonely in the strange
       In general, both Felix and Sam think that they don’t have a bad
life, and they have no desire to change it for anything more adven-

          Programme II. Text Three. Topic: The Lost Tie.
Mike.          Have you seen my new tie, Mum?
Mother.        Which new tie?
Mike.          The red one I bought in London a couple of weeks ago.
               I wore it to the dinner party at the Dawsons’ place on
               Saturday and I haven’t worn it or seen it since.
Mother.        No, I don’t think I’ve seen it this week, but have you
               looked for it properly? I expect you threw it carelessly

Яндекс цитирования Яндекс.Метрика