based on ex.3, pp.27-29 Match the extracts with the headings from the box. There is one extra heading you do not need to use An orphanAn unexpected fortuneThe picture of friendliness and comprehensionVery much alikeEasy to deal withBeing neglectedAn extraordinary child I'm twenty-three years old. When I was born, my father, Marcus Honey, was a doctor in the village. We had a nice old house, quite large, red-brick. I was born there, and then came the first tragedy. My mother died when I was two. My father, a busy doctor, had to have someone to run the house and to look after me. So he invited my mother's unmarried sister, my aunt, to come and live with us. She agreed and she came. I hated her from the start. I missed my mother terribly. And the aunt was not a kind person. I'm sure she hated me too. Then came the second tragedy. When I was five, my father died very suddenly. On the second morning Miss Honey received a letter from a firm of local solicitors informing her that the last will of her father, Dr Honey, had suddenly and mysteriously turned up. The document revealed that ever since her father's death, Miss Honey had in fact been the rightful owner of a property on the edge of the village known as The Red House. The will also showed that her father's lifetime savings, which fortunately were still safely in the bank, had to be left to her. The solicitor's letter added that the property and the money could be transferred into her name very rapidly. Miss Jennifer Honey was a mild and quiet person who never raised her voice and was seldom seen to smile, but there is no doubt she possessed that rare gift for being adored by every small child under her care. She seemed to understand totally the bewilderment and fear that so often overwhelm young children, who for the first time in their lives are shown into the classroom and told to obey orders. Some curious warmth that was almost tangible shone out of Miss Honey's face when she spoke to a confused and homesick newcomer to the class. Among Matilda's new-found friends was the girl called Lavender. Right from the first day of term the two of them started wandering round together during the morning break and in lunch hour. Lavender was exceptionally small for her age, a skinny little nymph with deep brown eyes and with dark hair that was cut in a fringe across her forehead. Matilda liked her because she was gutsy and adventurous. She liked Matilda for exactly the same reason. The nice thing about Matilda was that if you had met her casually and talked to her, you would have thought she was a perfectly normal five-and-a-half-year-old child. She displayed almost no outward signs of her brilliance and she never showed off. "This is a very sensible and quiet little girl," you may think. It was not therefore difficult for Matilda to make friends with other children. All those in her class liked her. They knew of course that she was "clever". But children of their age do not search deeply for reasons. They are far too wrapped up in their own small struggles to worry overmuch about what others are doing and why. It's a funny thing about mothers and fathers. Even when their own child is the most disgusting little thing you could ever imagine, they still think that he or she is wonderful. Some parents go further. They become so blinded by adoration that they become absolutely sure their child has qualities of a genius. But occasionally you come across parents who take the opposite line, who show no interest at all in their children. Mr and Mrs Wormwood were two such parents. They looked at their daughter Matilda as nothing more than a scab, something you have to put up with until the time comes when you can pick it and flick it away. Matilda felt that attitude from her parents, their deep indifference to her, and resented it. Mr and Mrs Wormwood had a son called Michael and a daughter called Matilda. Matilda's brother was a perfectly normal boy, but the five-year-old sister was something to make your eyes pop. She was sensitive and brilliant. Her achievements in reading were incredible. She could multiply complicated figures in her head with such facility and so quickly. Her teacher was sure that she had a truly mathematical brain, and words like child-genius and prodigy went flitting through her head when she was thinking of Matilda.

Задание

basedonex.3, pp.27-29

Matchtheextractswiththeheadingsfromthebox.Thereisoneextraheadingyoudonotneedtouse

An orphan
An unexpected fortune
The picture of friendliness and comprehension
Very much alike
Easy to deal with
Being neglected
An extraordinary child

[ ]

I'mtwenty-threeyearsold.WhenIwasborn, myfather, MarcusHoney, wasadoctorinthevillage.Wehadaniceoldhouse, quitelarge, red-brick.Iwasbornthere, andthencamethefirsttragedy.MymotherdiedwhenIwastwo.Myfather, abusydoctor, hadtohavesomeonetorunthehouseandtolookafterme.Soheinvitedmymother'sunmarriedsister, myaunt, tocomeandlivewithus.Sheagreedandshecame.Ihatedherfromthestart.Imissedmymotherterribly.Andtheauntwasnotakindperson.I'msureshehatedmetoo.Thencamethesecondtragedy.WhenIwasfive, myfatherdiedverysuddenly.

[ ]

OnthesecondmorningMissHoneyreceivedaletterfromafirmoflocalsolicitorsinformingherthatthelastwillofherfather, DrHoney, hadsuddenlyandmysteriouslyturnedup.Thedocumentrevealedthateversinceherfather'sdeath, MissHoneyhadinfactbeentherightfulownerofapropertyontheedgeofthevillageknownasTheRedHouse.Thewillalsoshowedthatherfather'slifetimesavings, whichfortunatelywerestillsafelyinthebank, hadtobelefttoher.Thesolicitor'sletteraddedthatthepropertyandthemoneycouldbetransferredintohernameveryrapidly.

[ ]

MissJenniferHoneywasamildandquietpersonwhoneverraisedhervoiceandwasseldomseentosmile, butthereisnodoubtshepossessedthatraregiftforbeingadoredbyeverysmallchildunderhercare.Sheseemedtounderstandtotallythebewildermentandfearthatsooftenoverwhelmyoungchildren, whoforthefirsttimeintheirlivesareshownintotheclassroomandtoldtoobeyorders.SomecuriouswarmththatwasalmosttangibleshoneoutofMissHoney'sfacewhenshespoketoaconfusedandhomesicknewcomertotheclass.

[ ]

AmongMatilda'snew-foundfriendswasthegirlcalledLavender.Rightfromthefirstdayoftermthetwoofthemstartedwanderingroundtogetherduringthemorningbreakandinlunchhour.Lavenderwasexceptionallysmallforherage, askinnylittlenymphwithdeepbrowneyesandwithdarkhairthatwascutinafringeacrossherforehead.Matildalikedherbecauseshewasgutsyandadventurous.ShelikedMatildaforexactlythesamereason.

[ ]

ThenicethingaboutMatildawasthatifyouhadmethercasuallyandtalkedtoher, youwouldhavethoughtshewasaperfectlynormalfive-and-a-half-year-oldchild.Shedisplayedalmostnooutwardsignsofherbrillianceandshenevershowedoff."Thisisaverysensibleandquietlittlegirl," youmaythink.ItwasnotthereforedifficultforMatildatomakefriendswithotherchildren.Allthoseinherclasslikedher.Theyknewofcoursethatshewas "clever".Butchildrenoftheiragedonotsearchdeeplyforreasons.Theyarefartoowrappedupintheirownsmallstrugglestoworryovermuchaboutwhatothersaredoingandwhy.

[ ]

It'safunnythingaboutmothersandfathers.Evenwhentheirownchildisthemostdisgustinglittlethingyoucouldeverimagine, theystillthinkthatheorsheiswonderful.Someparentsgofurther.Theybecomesoblindedbyadorationthattheybecomeabsolutelysuretheirchildhasqualitiesofagenius.Butoccasionallyyoucomeacrossparentswhotaketheoppositeline, whoshownointerestatallintheirchildren.MrandMrsWormwoodweretwosuchparents.TheylookedattheirdaughterMatildaasnothingmorethanascab, somethingyouhavetoputupwithuntilthetimecomeswhenyoucanpickitandflickitaway.Matildafeltthatattitudefromherparents, theirdeepindifferencetoher, andresentedit.

[ ]

MrandMrsWormwoodhadasoncalledMichaelandadaughtercalledMatilda.Matilda'sbrotherwasaperfectlynormalboy, butthefive-year-oldsisterwassomethingtomakeyoureyespop.Shewassensitiveandbrilliant.Herachievementsinreadingwereincredible.Shecouldmultiplycomplicatedfiguresinherheadwithsuchfacilityandsoquickly.Herteacherwassurethatshehadatrulymathematicalbrain, andwordslikechild-geniusandprodigywentflittingthroughherheadwhenshewasthinkingofMatilda.

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