Jasper white is one of those rare people who believes in ancient myths.
He has just bought a new house in the city.
But ever since he moved in, he has had trouble with cars and their owners.
When he returns home at night, he always finds that someone has parked a car outside his gate.
Because of this, he has never been able to get his own car into his garage even once.
Jasper has put up "NO PARKING" signs outside his gate, but these have not had any effect.
Now he has put an ugly stone head over the gate.
It is one of the ugliest faces I have never seen.
I asked him what it was and he told me that it was Medusa, the Gorgon.
Jasper hopes that she will turn cars and their owner to stone.
But none of them has been turned to stone yet!

Later in the afternoon, the boys put up their tent in the middle of a field.
As soon as this was done, they cooked a meal over an open fire.
They were all hungry and the food smelled good.
After a wonderful meal, they told stories and sang songs by the campfire.
But some time later it began to rain.
The boys felt tired so they put out the fire and crept into their tent.
Their sleeping bags were warm and comfortable, so they all slept soundly.
In the middle of the night, two boys woke up and began shouting.
The tent was full of water!
They all leaped out of their sleeping bags and hurried outside.
It was raining heavily and they found that a stream had formed in the field.
The stream wound its way across the field and then flowed right under their tent!

I am an art student and I paint a lot of pictures.
Many people pretend that they understand modern art.
They always tell you what a picture is "about".
Of course, many pictures are not "about" anything.
They are just pretty patterns.
We like them in the same way that we like pretty curtain material.
I think that young children often appreciate modern pictures better than anyone else.
They notice more.
My sister is only seven, but she always tells me whether my pictures are good or not.
She came into my room yesterday.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"I'm hanging this picture on the wall," I answered. "It's a new one. Do you like it?"
She looked at it critically for a moment.
"It's all right." she said, "but isn't it upside down?"
I looked at it again.
She was right! It was!

I arrived in London at last.
The railway station was big, black, and dark.
I did not know the way to my hotel, so I asked a porter.
I not only spoke English very carefully but very clearly as well.
The porter, however, could not understand me.
I repeated my question several times and at last he understood.
He answered me, but he spoke neither slowly nor clearly.
"I am a foreigner," I said.
Then he spoke slowly but I could not understand him.
My teacher never spoke English like that!
The porter and I looked at each other and smiled.
Then he said something and I understood it.
"You'll soon learn English," he said.
I wonder, in England, each person speaks a different language.
The English understand each other, but I do not understand them!
Do they speak English?

I entered the hotel manager's office and sat down.
I had just lost $50 and I felt very upset.
"I left the money in my room," I said "and it's not there now."
The manager was sympathetic, but he could do nothing.
"Everyone's losing money these days," he said.
He started to complain about this wicked world but was interrupted by a knock at the door.
A girl came in and put an envelope on his desk.
It contained $50.
"I found this outside this gentleman's room," she said.
"Well," I said to the manager, "there is still some honesty in this world!"