people. She wrote him a nice note o

people. She wrote him a nice note on clean white paper.
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"That Miss Reese is a very nice woman," Mrs. Williams said to her boy. "She sends for you to play at the school. I have never heard of a Negro who was invited there for anything but cleaning up, and I have been in Hopkinsville a long time. Go and play for them, son."
Roy played. But it was one of those days when his throat was hot and dry and his eyes burnt. He had been coughing all morning and as he played he breathed with great difficulty. He played badly. But Miss Reese was more than kind to him. She accompanied him on the piano. And when he had finished, she turned to the class of white children and said, "This is art, my dear young people, this is true art!"
The pupils went home that afternoon and told their parents that a dressed-up nigger had come to school with a violin and played a lot of funny music which nobody but Miss Reese liked. They also said that Miss Reese had smiled and said, "Wonderful!" and had even shaken hands with the nigger, when he went out.
Roy went home. He was very ill these days, getting thinner and thinner all the time, weaker and weaker. Sometimes he did not play at all. Often he did not eat the food his mother cooked for him, or that his sister brought from the place where she worked. Sometimes he was so restless and hot in the night that he got up and dressed and then walked the streets of the little town at ten and eleven o'clock after nearly every one else had gone to bed. Midnight was late in Hopkinsville. But for years Roy had worked at night. It was hard for him to sleep before midnight now.
But one night he walked out of the house for the last time.
In the street it was very quiet. The trees stood silent in the moonlight. Roy walked under the dry falling leaves towards the centre of the town, breathing in the night air. Night and the streets always made him feel better. He remembered the streets of Paris and Berlin. He remembered Vienna. Now like a dream that he had ever been in Europe at all, he thought. Ma never had any money. With the greatest difficulty her children were able to finish the grade school. There was no high school for Negroes in Hopkinsville. In order to get further education he had to run away from home with a Negro show. Then that chance of going to Berlin with a jazz-band. And his violin had been his best friend all the time. Jazz at night and the classics in the morning at his lessons with the best teachers that his earnings could pay. It was hard work and hard practice. Music, real music! Then he began to cough in Berlin.
Roy was passing lots of people now in the bright lights of Main Street, but he saw none of them. He saw only dreams and memories, and heard music. Suddenly a thin woman in a cheap coat and red hat, a white woman, stepping out of a store just as Roy passed, said pleasantly to him, "Good evening."
Roy stopped, also said, "Good evening, Miss Reese," and was glad to see her. Forgetting he wasn't in Europe, he took off his hat and gloves, and held out his hand to this lady who understood music. They smiled at each other, the sick young Negro and the middleaged music teacher in the light of Main Street. Then she asked him if he was still working on the Sarasate.
Roy opened his mouth to answer when he saw the woman's face suddenly grow pale with horror. Before he could turn round to see what her eyes had seen, he felt a heavy fist strike his face. There was a flash of lightning in his head as he fell down. Miss Reese screamed. The street near them filled with white young men with red necks, open shirts and fists ready to strike. They had seen a Negro talking to a white woman – insulting a White Woman – attacking a White Woman! They had seen Roy take off his gloves and when Miss Reese screamed when Roy was struck, they were sure he had insulted her. Yes, he had. Yes, sir!
So they knocked Roy down. They trampled on his hat and cane and gloves, and all of them tried to pick him up – so that someone else could have the pleasure of knocking him down again. They struggled over the privilege of knocking him down.
Roy looked up from the ground at the white men around him. His mouth was full of blood and his eyes burnt. His clothes were dirty. He was wondering why Miss Reese had stopped him to ask about the Sarasate. He knew he would never get home to his mother now.
The young Negro whose name was Roy Williams began to choke from the blood in his mouth. He didn't hear the sound of their voices or the trampling of their feet

Результаты (русский) 1:

люди. Она написала ему хорошо записку на чистой белой бумаге.АТРИБУТ УСПЕХАУ НАС ЕСТЬ САМЫЕ ПОПУЛЯРНЫЕ МОДЕЛИ ЭЛИТНЫХ ЧАСОВelitbrand.comОТ 6 999 НЕНАЛОГОВЫЕИТАЛЬЯНСКОЕ КАЧЕСТВОВЫБИРАЙТЕ СВОЁ ПОРТМОНЕ ВЫГОДНО!elitbrand.comСПЕЦИАЛЬНЫЕ ЦЕНЫПОПУЛЯРНЫЕ ЧАСЫ СРЕДИ УСПЕШНЫХ МУЖЧИНelitbrand.comОТ 6 999 НЕНАЛОГОВЫЕОГРОМНЫЙ ВЫБОР!ЛЮБЫЕ МУЖСКИЕ ЧАСЫ СО СКИДКАМИ ДО 70%. ВЫБИРАЙТЕ СЕЙЧАС.elitbrand.comОТ 6 900 НЕНАЛОГОВЫЕЧАСЫ ДЛЯ МУЖЧИНВЫБИРАЙТЕ СВОЮ МОДЕЛЬ ПО ВЫГОДНОЙ ЦЕНЕ!elitbrand.comОТ 6 999 НЕНАЛОГОВЫЕ«Мисс Риз является очень красивая женщина», миссис Уильямс сказал ее мальчика. «Она посылает для вас играть в школе. Я никогда не слышал о Негра, который был приглашен там что-нибудь, но очистки и я был в Хопкинсвилле долгое время. Идти и играть на них, сына».Рой играл. Но это был один из тех дней, когда его горло было жарко и сухо и сожгли его глаза. Он кашель все утро, и как он играл он дышал с большим трудом. Он играл плохо. Но Мисс Риз было больше, чем вид к нему. Она сопровождала на пианино. И когда он закончил, она повернулась к классу белых детей и сказал, «это искусство, мои дорогие молодые люди, это истинное искусство!»The pupils went home that afternoon and told their parents that a dressed-up nigger had come to school with a violin and played a lot of funny music which nobody but Miss Reese liked. They also said that Miss Reese had smiled and said, "Wonderful!" and had even shaken hands with the nigger, when he went out.Roy went home. He was very ill these days, getting thinner and thinner all the time, weaker and weaker. Sometimes he did not play at all. Often he did not eat the food his mother cooked for him, or that his sister brought from the place where she worked. Sometimes he was so restless and hot in the night that he got up and dressed and then walked the streets of the little town at ten and eleven o'clock after nearly every one else had gone to bed. Midnight was late in Hopkinsville. But for years Roy had worked at night. It was hard for him to sleep before midnight now.But one night he walked out of the house for the last time.In the street it was very quiet. The trees stood silent in the moonlight. Roy walked under the dry falling leaves towards the centre of the town, breathing in the night air. Night and the streets always made him feel better. He remembered the streets of Paris and Berlin. He remembered Vienna. Now like a dream that he had ever been in Europe at all, he thought. Ma never had any money. With the greatest difficulty her children were able to finish the grade school. There was no high school for Negroes in Hopkinsville. In order to get further education he had to run away from home with a Negro show. Then that chance of going to Berlin with a jazz-band. And his violin had been his best friend all the time. Jazz at night and the classics in the morning at his lessons with the best teachers that his earnings could pay. It was hard work and hard practice. Music, real music! Then he began to cough in Berlin.Roy was passing lots of people now in the bright lights of Main Street, but he saw none of them. He saw only dreams and memories, and heard music. Suddenly a thin woman in a cheap coat and red hat, a white woman, stepping out of a store just as Roy passed, said pleasantly to him, "Good evening."Roy stopped, also said, "Good evening, Miss Reese," and was glad to see her. Forgetting he wasn't in Europe, he took off his hat and gloves, and held out his hand to this lady who understood music. They smiled at each other, the sick young Negro and the middleaged music teacher in the light of Main Street. Then she asked him if he was still working on the Sarasate.Roy opened his mouth to answer when he saw the woman's face suddenly grow pale with horror. Before he could turn round to see what her eyes had seen, he felt a heavy fist strike his face. There was a flash of lightning in his head as he fell down. Miss Reese screamed. The street near them filled with white young men with red necks, open shirts and fists ready to strike. They had seen a Negro talking to a white woman – insulting a White Woman – attacking a White Woman! They had seen Roy take off his gloves and when Miss Reese screamed when Roy was struck, they were sure he had insulted her. Yes, he had. Yes, sir!So they knocked Roy down. They trampled on his hat and cane and gloves, and all of them tried to pick him up – so that someone else could have the pleasure of knocking him down again. They struggled over the privilege of knocking him down.Roy looked up from the ground at the white men around him. His mouth was full of blood and his eyes burnt. His clothes were dirty. He was wondering why Miss Reese had stopped him to ask about the Sarasate. He knew he would never get home to his mother now.The young Negro whose name was Roy Williams began to choke from the blood in his mouth. He didn't hear the sound of their voices or the trampling of their feet

Результаты (русский) 3:

люди.она написала ему хороший записку о чистой белой бумаги.Атрибут успехау нас есть самые популярные нас. чая часовelitbrand.comот 6 999 тенгеИтальянское качестваВыбирайте своё портмоне в!elitbrand.comСпециальные!но среди успешных мужчин Популярныеelitbrand.comот 6 999 тенгеОгромный.!но в скидками репетитор мужские до 70%.Выбирайте сейчас.elitbrand.comот 6 до 900 тенгеЧасы для мужчинВыбирайте свою модель по выгодной москвы!elitbrand.comот 6 999 тенге"мисс риз, очень милая женщина, миссис уильямс сказал ей мальчика".она посылает тебе играть в школе.я никогда не слышала негр, который был приглашен там ничего, но убирать, и я был в hopkinsville долгое время.иди играть для них, сынок ".рой сыграл.но это был один из таких дней, когда его горло было жарко и сухо и глаза его сжечь.он был кашель, все утро, и как он играл он дышал с большим трудом.он сыграл плохо.но мисс риз был более благосклонны к нему.она сопровождала его на фортепиано.и когда он закончил, она повернулась к классу белых и сказал, "это искусство, мой дорогой молодых людей, это самое искусство!"ученики вернулись домой в тот день и рассказал, что одеты ниггер пришли в школу на скрипке играл много забавных музыку, которую никто, но мисс риз понравилась.они также заявили, что мисс риз, улыбнулась и сказала: "чудесно!"и даже потрясла руки с ниггер, когда он вышел.рой пошел домой.он очень болен, в эти дни, становится тоньше, и тоньше, все время, слабее и слабее.иногда он не играл на всех.часто он не есть его мать готовила для него, или о том, что его сестра привезли с места, где она работала.иногда он так беспокоиться и жарко в ночь, когда он встал и одет, а потом ходил по улицам маленького городка на 10 и 11 часов после того, как почти все остальные пошли спать.в полночь было в конце hopkinsville.но за годы рой работал ночью.ему было трудно спать до полуночи.но однажды вечером он вышел из дома за последнее время.на улице было очень тихо.деревья стояли молча в лунном свете.рой пошел под сухие опавшие листья к центру города, дышит в ночном воздухе.ночь и улицы всегда заставил его почувствовать себя лучше.он вспомнил, что улицы парижа и берлина.он вспомнил о вене.теперь, как сон, что он никогда не был в европе на всех, думал он.мама никогда не было никаких денег.с величайшим трудом ее дети смогли закончить школы.не существует школа для негров в hopkinsville.для того чтобы получить дальнейшее образование, он сбежал из дома с негритянкой шоу.то, что шансы едем в берлин с джаз - оркестр.и на его скрипке был его лучшим другом все время.джаз в ночное время и классику утром на его уроки лучших учителей, что его доходы могут заплатить.это была тяжелая работа и много практики.музыка, настоящая музыка!затем он начал кашлять в берлине.рой был проходит много людей сейчас в яркие огни на главной улице, но он видел не один.он лишь видел сны и воспоминания, и услышал музыку.неожиданно тонкой женщина в дешевом пальто и Red Hat, белая женщина, выходя из магазина, как рой прошел, мягко сказал ему: "добрый вечер".рой остановился, также сказал: "добрый вечер, мисс риз," и был рад увидеть ее.забыл он не в европе, он снял шляпу и перчатки, и протянул руку к этой леди, кто понимает музыку.они улыбались друг другу, больных молодых чернокожих и middleaged учитель музыки в свете по главной улице.потом она спросила его, если он еще работает на сарасате.рой открыл рот, чтобы ответить, когда он увидел лицо женщины, вдруг становится бледным с ужасом.до того, как он мог бы развернуться, чтобы увидеть, что глаза видели, он чувствовал себя тяжелый кулак удар в лицо.там была вспышка молнии в его голову, как он упал.мисс риз закричала.на улице рядом с ними, заполненных белым молодых людей с красными шеек, открытых рубашки и кулаками готовы нанести удар.они видели негра с белой женщины – оскорбление белая женщина – нападения на белой женщины!они видели роя снять его перчатки и когда мисс риз кричала, когда рой был поражен, они были уверены, что он оскорбил ее.да, он был.да, сэр!так они снесли, рой.они растоптали его шляпа и трость и перчатки, и все они пытались забрать его, чтобы кто - то мог бы с удовольствием стучат его вниз.они боролись за честь стучат его вниз.рой посмотрел с земли на белых мужчин вокруг него.его рот был весь в крови и в его глазах сгорел.его одежда была грязной.он задавался вопросом, почему мисс риз был S