I've been reading the novel THREE MEN IN A BOAT
here are some funny parts of the first three chapters of the novel Jerome K Jerome:
Camping out in rainy weather is not pleasant.
It is evening. آپ are wet through, and there is a good two inches of water in the boat, and all the things are damp. آپ find a place on the banks that is not quite so puddly as other places آپ have seen, and آپ land and lug out the tent, and two of آپ proceed to fix it.
It is soaked and heavy, and it flops about, and tumbles down on you, and clings round your head and makes آپ mad. The rain is pouring steadily down all the time. It is difficult enough to fix a tent in dry weather: in wet, the task becomes herculean. Instead of helping you, it seems to آپ that the other man is simply playing the fool. Just as آپ get your side beautifully fixed, he gives it a hoist from his end, and spoils it all.
“Here! what are آپ up to?” آپ call out.
“What are آپ up to?” he retorts; “leggo, can’t you?”
“Don’t pull it; you’ve got it all wrong, آپ stupid ass!” آپ shout.
“No, I haven’t,” he yells back; “let go your side!”
“I tell آپ you’ve got it all wrong!” آپ roar, wishing that آپ could get at him; and آپ give your ropes a lug that pulls all his pegs out.
Ah, the bally idiot!” آپ hear him mutter to himself; and then comes a savage haul, and away goes your side. آپ lay down the mallet and start to go round and tell him what آپ think about the whole business, and, at the same time, he starts round in the same direction to come and explain his گیا پڑھا مرتبہ to you. And آپ follow each other round and round, swearing at one another, until the tent tumbles down in a heap, and leaves آپ looking at each other across its ruins, when آپ both indignantly exclaim, in the same breath:
“There آپ are! what did I tell you?”
After supper, آپ find your tobacco is damp, and آپ cannot smoke. Luckily آپ have a bottle of the stuff that cheers and inebriates, if taken in proper quantity, and this restores to آپ sufficient interest in life to induce آپ to go to bed.
There آپ dream that an ہاتھی has suddenly sat down on your chest, and that the آتش فشاں has exploded and thrown آپ down to the bottom of the sea — the ہاتھی still sleeping peacefully on your bosom. آپ wake up and grasp the idea that something terrible really has happened. Your first impression is that the end of the world has come; and then آپ think that this cannot be, and that it is thieves and murderers, یا else fire, and this opinion آپ express in the usual method. No help comes, however, and all آپ know is that thousands of people are kicking you, and آپ are being smothered.
Somebody else seems in trouble, too. آپ can hear his faint cries coming from underneath your bed. Determining, at all events, to sell your life dearly, آپ struggle frantically, hitting out right and left with arms and legs, and yelling lustily the while, and at last something gives way, and آپ find your head in the fresh air. Two feet off, آپ dimly observe a half-dressed ruffian, waiting to kill you, and آپ are preparing for a life-and-death struggle with him, when it begins to dawn upon آپ that it’s Jim.
“Oh, it’s you, is it?” he says, recognising آپ at the same moment.
“Yes,” آپ answer, rubbing your eyes; “what’s happened?”
“Bally tent’s blown down, I think,” he says.
“Where’s Bill?”
Then آپ both raise up your voices and shout for “Bill!” and the ground beneath آپ heaves and rocks, and the muffled voice that آپ heard before جوابات from out the ruin:
“Get off my head, can’t you?”
آپ never saw such a commotion up and down a house, in all your life, as when my Uncle Podger undertook to do a job. A picture would have come ہوم from the frame-maker’s, and be standing in the dining-room, waiting to be put up; and Aunt Podger would ask what was to be done with it, and Uncle Podger would say:
“Oh, آپ leave that to me. Don’t you, any of you, worry yourselves about that. I’ll do all that.”
And then he would take off his coat, and begin. He would send the girl out for sixpen’orth of nails, and then one of the boys after her to tell her what size to get; and, from that, he would gradually work down, and start the whole house.
“Now آپ go and get me my hammer, Will,” he would shout; “and آپ bring me the rule, Tom; and I shall want the step-ladder, and I had better have a kitchen-chair, too; and, Jim! آپ run round to Mr. Goggles, and tell him, ‘Pa’s kind regards, and hopes his leg’s better; and will he lend him his spirit-level?’ And don’t آپ go, Maria, because I shall want somebody to hold me the light; and when the girl comes back, she must go out again for a bit of picture-cord; and Tom! — where’s Tom? — Tom, آپ come here; I shall want آپ to hand me up the picture.”
And then he would lift up the picture, and drop it, and it would come out of the frame, and he would try to save the glass, and cut himself; and then he would spring round the room, looking for his handkerchief. He could not find his handkerchief, because it was in the pocket of the کوٹ he had taken off, and he did not know where he had put the coat, and all the house had to leave off looking for his tools, and start looking for his coat; while he would dance round and hinder them.
“Doesn’t anybody in the whole house know where my کوٹ is? I never came across such a set in all my life — upon my word I didn’t. Six of you! — and آپ can’t find a کوٹ that I put down not five منٹ ago! Well, of all the — ”
Then he’d get up, and find that he had been sitting on it, and would call out:
“Oh, آپ can give it up! I’ve found it myself now. Might just as well ask the cat to find anything as expect آپ people to find it.”
And, when half an گھنٹہ had been spent in tying up his finger, and a new glass had been got, and the tools, and the ladder, and the chair, and the candle had been brought, he would have another go, the whole family, including the girl and the charwoman, standing round in a semi-circle, ready to help. Two people would have to hold the chair, and a third would help him up on it, and hold him there, and a fourth would hand him a nail, and a fifth would pass him up the hammer, and he would take hold of the nail, and drop it.
“There!” he would say, in an injured tone, “now the nail’s gone.”
And we would all have to go down on our knees and grovel for it, while he would stand on the chair, and grunt, and want to know if he was to be kept there all the evening.
The nail would be found at last, but سے طرف کی that time he would have lost the hammer.
“Where’s the hammer? What did I do with the hammer? Great heavens! Seven of you, gaping round there, and آپ don’t know what I did with the hammer!”
We would find the hammer for him, and then he would have lost sight of the mark he had made on the wall, where the nail was to go in, and each of us had to get up on the chair, beside him, and see if we could find it; and we would each discover it in a different place, and he would call us all fools, one after another, and tell us to get down. And he would take the rule, and re-measure, and find that he wanted half thirty-one and three-eighths inches from the corner, and would try to do it in his head, and go mad.
And we would all try to do it in our heads, and all arrive at different results, and sneer at one another. And in the general row, the original number would be forgotten, and Uncle Podger would have to measure it again.
He would use a bit of string this time, and at the critical moment, when the old fool was leaning over the chair at an angle of forty-five, and trying to reach a point three inches beyond what was possible for him to reach, the string would slip, and down he would slide on to the piano, a really fine musical effect being produced سے طرف کی the suddenness with which his head and body struck all the notes at the same time.
And Aunt Maria would say that she would not allow the children to stand round and hear such language.
At last, Uncle Podger would get the spot fixed again, and put the point of the nail on it with his left hand, and take the hammer in his right hand. And, with the first blow, he would smash his thumb, and drop the hammer, with a yell, on somebody’s toes.
Aunt Maria would mildly observe that, اگلے time Uncle Podger was going to hammer a nail into the wall, she hoped he’d let her know in time, so that she could make arrangements to go and spend a week with her mother while it was being done.
“Oh! آپ women, آپ make such a fuss over everything,” Uncle Podger would reply, picking himself up. “Why, I like doing a little job of this sort.”
And then he would have another try, and, at the سیکنڈ blow, the nail would go clean through the plaster, and half the hammer after it, and Uncle Podger be precipitated against the دیوار with force nearly sufficient to flatten his nose.
Then we had to find the rule and the string again, and a new hole was made; and, about midnight, the picture would be up — very crooked and insecure, the دیوار for yards round looking as if it had been smoothed down with a rake, and everybody dead beat and wretched — except Uncle Podger.
“There آپ are,” he would say, stepping heavily off the chair on to the charwoman’s corns, and surveying the mess he had made with evident pride. “Why, some people would have had a man in to do a little thing like that!”
I did not say anything, but started the packing. It seemed a longer job than I had thought it was going to be; but I got the bag finished at last, and I sat on it and strapped it.
“Ain’t آپ going to put the boots in?” کہا Harris.
And I looked round, and found I had forgotten them. That’s just like Harris. He couldn’t have کہا a word until I’d got the bag shut and strapped, of course. And George laughed — one of those irritating, senseless, chuckle-headed, crack-jawed laughs of his. They do make me so wild.
I opened the bag and packed the boots in; and then, just as I was going to close it, a horrible idea occurred to me. Had I packed my tooth-brush? I don’t know how it is, but I never do know whether I’ve packed my tooth-brush.
My tooth-brush is a thing that haunts me when I’m travelling, and makes my life a misery. I dream that I haven’t packed it, and wake up in a cold perspiration, and get out of بستر and hunt for it. And, in the morning, I pack it before I have used it, and have to unpack again to get it, and it is always the last thing I turn out of the bag; and then I repack and forget it, and have to rush upstairs for it at the last moment and carry it to the railway station, wrapped up in my pocket-handkerchief.
Of course I had to turn every mortal thing out now, and, of course, I could not find it. I rummaged the things up into much the same state that they must have been before the world was created, and when chaos reigned. Of course, I found George’s and Harris’s eighteen times over, but I couldn’t find my own. I put the things back one سے طرف کی one, and held everything up and shook it. Then I found it inside a boot. I repacked once more.
When I had finished, George asked if the soap was in. I کہا I didn’t care a hang whether the soap was in یا whether it wasn’t; and I slammed the bag to and strapped it, and found that I had packed my tobacco-pouch in it, and had to re-open it. It got shut up finally at 10.5 p.m., and then there remained the hampers to do. Harris کہا that we should be wanting to start in less than twelve hours’ time, and thought that he and George had better do the rest; and I agreed and sat down, and they had a go.
They began in a light-hearted spirit, evidently intending to دکھائیں me how to do it. I made no comment; I only waited. When George is hanged, Harris will be the worst packer in this world; and I looked at the piles of plates and cups, and kettles, and bottles and jars, and pies, and stoves, and cakes, and tomatoes, &c., and felt that the thing would soon become exciting.
It did. They started with breaking a cup. That was the first thing they did. They did that just to دکھائیں آپ what they could do, and to get آپ interested.
Then Harris packed the سٹرابیری, اسٹرابیری جام on سب, سب سے اوپر of a ٹماٹر and squashed it, and they had to pick out the ٹماٹر with a teaspoon.
And then it was George’s turn, and he trod on the butter. I didn’t say anything, but I came over and sat on the edge of the میز, جدول and watched them. It irritated them مزید than anything I could have said. I felt that. It made them nervous and excited, and they stepped on things, and put things behind them, and then couldn’t find them when they wanted them; and they packed the pies at the bottom, and put heavy things on top, and smashed the pies in.
They upset salt over everything, and as for the butter! I never saw two men do مزید with one-and-twopence worth of مکھن in my whole life than they did. After George had got it off his slipper, they tried to put it in the kettle. It wouldn’t go in, and what was in wouldn’t come out. They did scrape it out at last, and put it down on a chair, and Harris sat on it, and it stuck to him, and they went looking for it all over the room.
“I’ll take my oath I put it down on that chair,” کہا George, staring at the empty seat.
“I saw آپ do it myself, not a منٹ ago,” کہا Harris.
Then they started round the room again looking for it; and then they met again in the centre, and stared at one another.
“Most extraordinary thing I ever heard of,” کہا George.
“So mysterious!” کہا Harris.
Then George got round at the back of Harris and saw it.
“Why, here it is all the time,” he exclaimed, indignantly.
“Where?” cried Harris, spinning round.
“Stand still, can’t you!” roared George, flying after him.
And they got it off, and packed it in the teapot.
Montmorency was in it all, of course. Montmorency’s ambition in life, is to get in the way and be sworn at. If he can squirm in anywhere where he particularly is not wanted, and be a perfect nuisance, and make people mad, and have things thrown at his head, then he feels his دن has not been wasted.
To get somebody to stumble over him, and curse him steadily for an hour, is his highest aim and object; and, when he has succeeded in accomplishing this, his conceit becomes quite unbearable.
He came and sat down on things, just when they were wanted to be packed; and he laboured under the fixed belief that, whenever Harris یا George reached out their hand for anything, it was his cold, damp nose that they wanted. He put his leg into the jam, and he worried the teaspoons, and he pretended that the lemons were rats, and got into the hamper and killed three of them before Harris could land him with the frying-pan.
Harris کہا I encouraged him. I didn’t encourage him. A dog like that don’t want any encouragement. It’s the natural, original sin that is born in him that makes him do things like that.
The packing was done at 12.50; and Harris sat on the big hamper, and کہا he hoped nothing would be found broken. George کہا that if anything was broken it was broken, which reflection seemed to comfort him. He also کہا he was ready for bed.
here are some funny parts of the first three chapters of the novel Jerome K Jerome:
Camping out in rainy weather is not pleasant.
It is evening. آپ are wet through, and there is a good two inches of water in the boat, and all the things are damp. آپ find a place on the banks that is not quite so puddly as other places آپ have seen, and آپ land and lug out the tent, and two of آپ proceed to fix it.
It is soaked and heavy, and it flops about, and tumbles down on you, and clings round your head and makes آپ mad. The rain is pouring steadily down all the time. It is difficult enough to fix a tent in dry weather: in wet, the task becomes herculean. Instead of helping you, it seems to آپ that the other man is simply playing the fool. Just as آپ get your side beautifully fixed, he gives it a hoist from his end, and spoils it all.
“Here! what are آپ up to?” آپ call out.
“What are آپ up to?” he retorts; “leggo, can’t you?”
“Don’t pull it; you’ve got it all wrong, آپ stupid ass!” آپ shout.
“No, I haven’t,” he yells back; “let go your side!”
“I tell آپ you’ve got it all wrong!” آپ roar, wishing that آپ could get at him; and آپ give your ropes a lug that pulls all his pegs out.
Ah, the bally idiot!” آپ hear him mutter to himself; and then comes a savage haul, and away goes your side. آپ lay down the mallet and start to go round and tell him what آپ think about the whole business, and, at the same time, he starts round in the same direction to come and explain his گیا پڑھا مرتبہ to you. And آپ follow each other round and round, swearing at one another, until the tent tumbles down in a heap, and leaves آپ looking at each other across its ruins, when آپ both indignantly exclaim, in the same breath:
“There آپ are! what did I tell you?”
After supper, آپ find your tobacco is damp, and آپ cannot smoke. Luckily آپ have a bottle of the stuff that cheers and inebriates, if taken in proper quantity, and this restores to آپ sufficient interest in life to induce آپ to go to bed.
There آپ dream that an ہاتھی has suddenly sat down on your chest, and that the آتش فشاں has exploded and thrown آپ down to the bottom of the sea — the ہاتھی still sleeping peacefully on your bosom. آپ wake up and grasp the idea that something terrible really has happened. Your first impression is that the end of the world has come; and then آپ think that this cannot be, and that it is thieves and murderers, یا else fire, and this opinion آپ express in the usual method. No help comes, however, and all آپ know is that thousands of people are kicking you, and آپ are being smothered.
Somebody else seems in trouble, too. آپ can hear his faint cries coming from underneath your bed. Determining, at all events, to sell your life dearly, آپ struggle frantically, hitting out right and left with arms and legs, and yelling lustily the while, and at last something gives way, and آپ find your head in the fresh air. Two feet off, آپ dimly observe a half-dressed ruffian, waiting to kill you, and آپ are preparing for a life-and-death struggle with him, when it begins to dawn upon آپ that it’s Jim.
“Oh, it’s you, is it?” he says, recognising آپ at the same moment.
“Yes,” آپ answer, rubbing your eyes; “what’s happened?”
“Bally tent’s blown down, I think,” he says.
“Where’s Bill?”
Then آپ both raise up your voices and shout for “Bill!” and the ground beneath آپ heaves and rocks, and the muffled voice that آپ heard before جوابات from out the ruin:
“Get off my head, can’t you?”
آپ never saw such a commotion up and down a house, in all your life, as when my Uncle Podger undertook to do a job. A picture would have come ہوم from the frame-maker’s, and be standing in the dining-room, waiting to be put up; and Aunt Podger would ask what was to be done with it, and Uncle Podger would say:
“Oh, آپ leave that to me. Don’t you, any of you, worry yourselves about that. I’ll do all that.”
And then he would take off his coat, and begin. He would send the girl out for sixpen’orth of nails, and then one of the boys after her to tell her what size to get; and, from that, he would gradually work down, and start the whole house.
“Now آپ go and get me my hammer, Will,” he would shout; “and آپ bring me the rule, Tom; and I shall want the step-ladder, and I had better have a kitchen-chair, too; and, Jim! آپ run round to Mr. Goggles, and tell him, ‘Pa’s kind regards, and hopes his leg’s better; and will he lend him his spirit-level?’ And don’t آپ go, Maria, because I shall want somebody to hold me the light; and when the girl comes back, she must go out again for a bit of picture-cord; and Tom! — where’s Tom? — Tom, آپ come here; I shall want آپ to hand me up the picture.”
And then he would lift up the picture, and drop it, and it would come out of the frame, and he would try to save the glass, and cut himself; and then he would spring round the room, looking for his handkerchief. He could not find his handkerchief, because it was in the pocket of the کوٹ he had taken off, and he did not know where he had put the coat, and all the house had to leave off looking for his tools, and start looking for his coat; while he would dance round and hinder them.
“Doesn’t anybody in the whole house know where my کوٹ is? I never came across such a set in all my life — upon my word I didn’t. Six of you! — and آپ can’t find a کوٹ that I put down not five منٹ ago! Well, of all the — ”
Then he’d get up, and find that he had been sitting on it, and would call out:
“Oh, آپ can give it up! I’ve found it myself now. Might just as well ask the cat to find anything as expect آپ people to find it.”
And, when half an گھنٹہ had been spent in tying up his finger, and a new glass had been got, and the tools, and the ladder, and the chair, and the candle had been brought, he would have another go, the whole family, including the girl and the charwoman, standing round in a semi-circle, ready to help. Two people would have to hold the chair, and a third would help him up on it, and hold him there, and a fourth would hand him a nail, and a fifth would pass him up the hammer, and he would take hold of the nail, and drop it.
“There!” he would say, in an injured tone, “now the nail’s gone.”
And we would all have to go down on our knees and grovel for it, while he would stand on the chair, and grunt, and want to know if he was to be kept there all the evening.
The nail would be found at last, but سے طرف کی that time he would have lost the hammer.
“Where’s the hammer? What did I do with the hammer? Great heavens! Seven of you, gaping round there, and آپ don’t know what I did with the hammer!”
We would find the hammer for him, and then he would have lost sight of the mark he had made on the wall, where the nail was to go in, and each of us had to get up on the chair, beside him, and see if we could find it; and we would each discover it in a different place, and he would call us all fools, one after another, and tell us to get down. And he would take the rule, and re-measure, and find that he wanted half thirty-one and three-eighths inches from the corner, and would try to do it in his head, and go mad.
And we would all try to do it in our heads, and all arrive at different results, and sneer at one another. And in the general row, the original number would be forgotten, and Uncle Podger would have to measure it again.
He would use a bit of string this time, and at the critical moment, when the old fool was leaning over the chair at an angle of forty-five, and trying to reach a point three inches beyond what was possible for him to reach, the string would slip, and down he would slide on to the piano, a really fine musical effect being produced سے طرف کی the suddenness with which his head and body struck all the notes at the same time.
And Aunt Maria would say that she would not allow the children to stand round and hear such language.
At last, Uncle Podger would get the spot fixed again, and put the point of the nail on it with his left hand, and take the hammer in his right hand. And, with the first blow, he would smash his thumb, and drop the hammer, with a yell, on somebody’s toes.
Aunt Maria would mildly observe that, اگلے time Uncle Podger was going to hammer a nail into the wall, she hoped he’d let her know in time, so that she could make arrangements to go and spend a week with her mother while it was being done.
“Oh! آپ women, آپ make such a fuss over everything,” Uncle Podger would reply, picking himself up. “Why, I like doing a little job of this sort.”
And then he would have another try, and, at the سیکنڈ blow, the nail would go clean through the plaster, and half the hammer after it, and Uncle Podger be precipitated against the دیوار with force nearly sufficient to flatten his nose.
Then we had to find the rule and the string again, and a new hole was made; and, about midnight, the picture would be up — very crooked and insecure, the دیوار for yards round looking as if it had been smoothed down with a rake, and everybody dead beat and wretched — except Uncle Podger.
“There آپ are,” he would say, stepping heavily off the chair on to the charwoman’s corns, and surveying the mess he had made with evident pride. “Why, some people would have had a man in to do a little thing like that!”
I did not say anything, but started the packing. It seemed a longer job than I had thought it was going to be; but I got the bag finished at last, and I sat on it and strapped it.
“Ain’t آپ going to put the boots in?” کہا Harris.
And I looked round, and found I had forgotten them. That’s just like Harris. He couldn’t have کہا a word until I’d got the bag shut and strapped, of course. And George laughed — one of those irritating, senseless, chuckle-headed, crack-jawed laughs of his. They do make me so wild.
I opened the bag and packed the boots in; and then, just as I was going to close it, a horrible idea occurred to me. Had I packed my tooth-brush? I don’t know how it is, but I never do know whether I’ve packed my tooth-brush.
My tooth-brush is a thing that haunts me when I’m travelling, and makes my life a misery. I dream that I haven’t packed it, and wake up in a cold perspiration, and get out of بستر and hunt for it. And, in the morning, I pack it before I have used it, and have to unpack again to get it, and it is always the last thing I turn out of the bag; and then I repack and forget it, and have to rush upstairs for it at the last moment and carry it to the railway station, wrapped up in my pocket-handkerchief.
Of course I had to turn every mortal thing out now, and, of course, I could not find it. I rummaged the things up into much the same state that they must have been before the world was created, and when chaos reigned. Of course, I found George’s and Harris’s eighteen times over, but I couldn’t find my own. I put the things back one سے طرف کی one, and held everything up and shook it. Then I found it inside a boot. I repacked once more.
When I had finished, George asked if the soap was in. I کہا I didn’t care a hang whether the soap was in یا whether it wasn’t; and I slammed the bag to and strapped it, and found that I had packed my tobacco-pouch in it, and had to re-open it. It got shut up finally at 10.5 p.m., and then there remained the hampers to do. Harris کہا that we should be wanting to start in less than twelve hours’ time, and thought that he and George had better do the rest; and I agreed and sat down, and they had a go.
They began in a light-hearted spirit, evidently intending to دکھائیں me how to do it. I made no comment; I only waited. When George is hanged, Harris will be the worst packer in this world; and I looked at the piles of plates and cups, and kettles, and bottles and jars, and pies, and stoves, and cakes, and tomatoes, &c., and felt that the thing would soon become exciting.
It did. They started with breaking a cup. That was the first thing they did. They did that just to دکھائیں آپ what they could do, and to get آپ interested.
Then Harris packed the سٹرابیری, اسٹرابیری جام on سب, سب سے اوپر of a ٹماٹر and squashed it, and they had to pick out the ٹماٹر with a teaspoon.
And then it was George’s turn, and he trod on the butter. I didn’t say anything, but I came over and sat on the edge of the میز, جدول and watched them. It irritated them مزید than anything I could have said. I felt that. It made them nervous and excited, and they stepped on things, and put things behind them, and then couldn’t find them when they wanted them; and they packed the pies at the bottom, and put heavy things on top, and smashed the pies in.
They upset salt over everything, and as for the butter! I never saw two men do مزید with one-and-twopence worth of مکھن in my whole life than they did. After George had got it off his slipper, they tried to put it in the kettle. It wouldn’t go in, and what was in wouldn’t come out. They did scrape it out at last, and put it down on a chair, and Harris sat on it, and it stuck to him, and they went looking for it all over the room.
“I’ll take my oath I put it down on that chair,” کہا George, staring at the empty seat.
“I saw آپ do it myself, not a منٹ ago,” کہا Harris.
Then they started round the room again looking for it; and then they met again in the centre, and stared at one another.
“Most extraordinary thing I ever heard of,” کہا George.
“So mysterious!” کہا Harris.
Then George got round at the back of Harris and saw it.
“Why, here it is all the time,” he exclaimed, indignantly.
“Where?” cried Harris, spinning round.
“Stand still, can’t you!” roared George, flying after him.
And they got it off, and packed it in the teapot.
Montmorency was in it all, of course. Montmorency’s ambition in life, is to get in the way and be sworn at. If he can squirm in anywhere where he particularly is not wanted, and be a perfect nuisance, and make people mad, and have things thrown at his head, then he feels his دن has not been wasted.
To get somebody to stumble over him, and curse him steadily for an hour, is his highest aim and object; and, when he has succeeded in accomplishing this, his conceit becomes quite unbearable.
He came and sat down on things, just when they were wanted to be packed; and he laboured under the fixed belief that, whenever Harris یا George reached out their hand for anything, it was his cold, damp nose that they wanted. He put his leg into the jam, and he worried the teaspoons, and he pretended that the lemons were rats, and got into the hamper and killed three of them before Harris could land him with the frying-pan.
Harris کہا I encouraged him. I didn’t encourage him. A dog like that don’t want any encouragement. It’s the natural, original sin that is born in him that makes him do things like that.
The packing was done at 12.50; and Harris sat on the big hamper, and کہا he hoped nothing would be found broken. George کہا that if anything was broken it was broken, which reflection seemed to comfort him. He also کہا he was ready for bed.
1.The Characters are awesome
2.It can make آپ laugh so hard
3.It can make آپ cry like a baby
4.The fight scenes are epic
5.Theres blood
6.They swear
7.The storyline is really good
8.Theres Ninjas'!!
9.They have Sasuke(cool)
10.The weapons they use are so coool
11.The villians are so evil.
12.It makes آپ wish آپ lived in the naruto world.
13.They have great opening and ending songs.
14.It makes آپ think about it all the time
15.It teaches آپ naruto history
2.It can make آپ laugh so hard
3.It can make آپ cry like a baby
4.The fight scenes are epic
5.Theres blood
6.They swear
7.The storyline is really good
8.Theres Ninjas'!!
9.They have Sasuke(cool)
10.The weapons they use are so coool
11.The villians are so evil.
12.It makes آپ wish آپ lived in the naruto world.
13.They have great opening and ending songs.
14.It makes آپ think about it all the time
15.It teaches آپ naruto history
It is 131.5 meters high, 57 meters wide and 60 meters deep. It is located close to Zhangjiajie city in western Hunan Province, China and is part of Wulingyuan Scenic Area - a UNESCO World Heritage Site.
One has to climb 999 steps to reach the top.
The whole area is very scenic and was not easily accessible. However Tianmen Mountain Cableway - reportedly the longest passenger cableway in the World with a length of 7200 meters and a height gap of 1277 meters, now brings thousands of tourists to this natural wonder.
rimson, Crimson, Crimson ہیلمیٹ of V3
Double Typhoon, the بیلٹ, پٹی of Life
The wind-wheels of Strength and Technique spin
Father! Mother! Sister!
My blood screams with the undulation of the wind
I will charge forth to the of my strength
The enemy is Hell’s Deathron
Fight! Masked Rider V3 of Justice
Blue, Blue, Blue Bike of V3
Hurricane Jump a flying machine
The wheels and wings defeat monsters
Father! Mother! Sister!
My blood burns with the undulation of the wind
I will charge forth to the of my life
The enemy is Hell’s Deathron
Fight! Masked Rider V3 of Justice
White, White, White Muffler of V3
Twin wings that soar in the sky
Justice and Love protect the world
Father! Mother! Sister!
My blood agitates with the undulation of the wind
I will charge forth to the of my body
The enemy is Hell’s Deathron
Fight! Masked Rider V3 of Justice
Double Typhoon, the بیلٹ, پٹی of Life
The wind-wheels of Strength and Technique spin
Father! Mother! Sister!
My blood screams with the undulation of the wind
I will charge forth to the of my strength
The enemy is Hell’s Deathron
Fight! Masked Rider V3 of Justice
Blue, Blue, Blue Bike of V3
Hurricane Jump a flying machine
The wheels and wings defeat monsters
Father! Mother! Sister!
My blood burns with the undulation of the wind
I will charge forth to the of my life
The enemy is Hell’s Deathron
Fight! Masked Rider V3 of Justice
White, White, White Muffler of V3
Twin wings that soar in the sky
Justice and Love protect the world
Father! Mother! Sister!
My blood agitates with the undulation of the wind
I will charge forth to the of my body
The enemy is Hell’s Deathron
Fight! Masked Rider V3 of Justice
Just one مزید time before I go
I'll let آپ know
And all this time I've been afraid,
Wouldn't let it show
Nobody can save me now, no
Nobody can save me now
Stars can only visible in the darkness,
Fear is ever changing and evolving
And I I I can poison these eyes
And I I I feel so alive
Nobody can save آپ now
The king is down
It's do یا die!
Nobody can save آپ now
Nowhere safe
It's the battle cry
It's the battle cry
Battle cry!
Nobody can save آپ now
IT'S DO یا DIE
[Guitars]
Nobody can save آپ now
The king is down
It's do یا die!
Nobody can save آپ now
Nowhere safe
It's the battle cry
It's the battle cry
Battle cry!
Nobody can save آپ now
IT'S DO یا DIE
Just one مزید time before I go
I'll let آپ know
And all this time I've been afraid,
Wouldn't let it show
Nobody can save me now, no
Nobody can save me now
I'll let آپ know
And all this time I've been afraid,
Wouldn't let it show
Nobody can save me now, no
Nobody can save me now
Stars can only visible in the darkness,
Fear is ever changing and evolving
And I I I can poison these eyes
And I I I feel so alive
Nobody can save آپ now
The king is down
It's do یا die!
Nobody can save آپ now
Nowhere safe
It's the battle cry
It's the battle cry
Battle cry!
Nobody can save آپ now
IT'S DO یا DIE
[Guitars]
Nobody can save آپ now
The king is down
It's do یا die!
Nobody can save آپ now
Nowhere safe
It's the battle cry
It's the battle cry
Battle cry!
Nobody can save آپ now
IT'S DO یا DIE
Just one مزید time before I go
I'll let آپ know
And all this time I've been afraid,
Wouldn't let it show
Nobody can save me now, no
Nobody can save me now