Shadowing Practice: The Magic Fingerโ๐ผ - By Roald Dahl - Learn English Speaking with Video
ืืืจ ืืฆื ืชืจืืื
ืื ืืฆื ืคืืชื ืืืจ ืชืจืืื ืืืกื ืืื.
391 ืืฉืคืืื
ืื ืืืฉืคืืื ืงืฆืจืื ืื ืืจืืืื ืืื, ืืืฅ ืขื ืขืจืื ืืื ืืืชืืื ืืืชื.
1
Hi there everyone!
2
Today the bookworms are going to be reading The Magic Finger by Roald Dahl, illustrated by Quentin Blake.
3
The farm next to ours is owned by Mr. and Mrs. Gregg.
4
The Greggs have two children, both of them boys.
5
Their names are Philip and William.
6
Sometimes I go over to their farm to play with them.
7
I am a girl and I am eight years old.
8
Philip is also eight years old.
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William is three years older.
10
He is ten.
11
What?
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Oh, all right then.
13
He is eleven.
14
Last week, something very funny happened to the Greg family.
15
I am going to tell you about it as best as I can.
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Now, the one thing that Mr. Gregg and his two boys loved to do more than anything else was to go hunting.
17
Every Saturday morning, they would take their guns and go off into the woods to look for animals and birds to shoot.
18
Even Phillip, who was only eight years old, had a gun of his own.
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I can't stand hunting.
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I just can't stand it.
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It doesn't seem right to me that men and boys should kill animals just for the fun they get out of it.
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so I used to try to stop Philip and William from doing it.
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Every time I went over to their farm, I would do my best to talk them out of it, but they only laughed at me.
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I even said something about it once to Mr. Greg, but he just walked on past me as if I wasn't there.
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Then one Saturday morning, I saw Philip and William coming out of the woods with their father, and they were carrying a lovely young deer.
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This made me so cross that I started shouting at them.
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The boys laughed and made faces at me, and Mr. Greg told me to go home and mind my own P's and Q's.
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Well, that did it!
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I saw red, and before I was able to stop myself, I did something I never meant to do.
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I put the magic finger on them all.
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Oh dear, oh dear!
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I even put it on Mrs. Greg, who wasn't there.
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I put it on the whole Greg family.
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For months I had been telling myself that I would never put the magic finger upon anyone again.
35
Not after what happened to my teacher, old Mrs. Winter.
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Poor old Mrs. Winter.
37
One day we were in class and she was teaching us spelling.
38
Stand up, she said to me, and spell cat.
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That's an easy one, I said.
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K-A-T You are a stupid little girl, Mrs. Winter said.
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I am not a stupid little girl, I cried.
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I am a very nice little girl.
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Go and stand in the corner, Mrs. Winter said.
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Then I got cross, and I saw red, and I put the magic finger on Mrs. Winter, good and strong.
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And almost at once, guess what?
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Whiskers began growing out of her face.
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They were long black whiskers, just like the ones you see on a cat, only much bigger.
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And how fast they grew!
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Before we had time to think, they were out to our ears.
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Of course, the whole class started screaming with laughter, and then Mrs. Winter said, Will you be so kind to tell me what you find so madly funny?
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All of you!
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And when she turned around to write something on the blackboard, we saw that she had grown a tail as well.
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It was a huge, bushy tale.
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I could not begin to tell you what happened after that, but if any questions of you are wondering whether Mrs. Winter is quite alright again now,
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the answer is no, and she never will be.
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The magic finger is something I have been able to do all my life.
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I can't just tell you how I do it, because I don't even know myself.
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But it always happens when I get cross, when I see red.
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Then I get very, very hot all over.
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Then the tip of the finger of my right hand begins to tingle most terribly.
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And suddenly, a sort of flash comes out of me.
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A quick flash, like something electric.
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It jumps out and touches the person who has made me cross.
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And after that, the magic finger is upon him or her, and things began to happen.
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Well, the magic finger was now upon the whole of the Greg family, and there was no taking it off again.
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I ran home and waited for things to happen.
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They happened fast.
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I shall now tell you what those things were.
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I got the whole story from Philip and William the next morning after it was all over.
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In the afternoon of the very same day that I put the magic finger on the Greg family, Mr. Greg and Philip and William went out hunting once again.
71
This time they were going after wild ducks so they headed towards the lake.
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In the first hour, they got ten birds.
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In the next hour, they got another six.
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What a day, cried Mr. Greg.
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This is the best yet.
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He was beside himself with joy.
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Just then, four more wild ducks flew over their heads.
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They were flying very low.
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They were easy to hit.
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Bang, bang, bang, bang, went the guns.
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The ducks flew on.
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We missed, said Mr. Greg.
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That's funny.
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And to everyone's surprise, the four ducks turned around and came flying right back to the guns.
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Hey, said Mr. Greg.
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What on earth are they doing?
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They are really asking for it this time.
88
He shot at them again.
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So did the boys.
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And again, they all missed.
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Mr. Greg got very red in the face.
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It's the light, he said.
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It's getting too dark to see.
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Let's go home.
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So they started for home, carrying with them sixteen birds they had shot before.
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But the four ducks would not leave them alone.
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They now began flying around and around the hunters as they walked away.
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Mr. Gregg did not like it one bit.
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Be off! he cried, and he shot at them many more times.
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But it was no good.
101
He simply could not hit them.
102
All the way home those four ducks flew around in the sky above their heads, and nothing would make them go away.
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Late that night, after Philip and William had gone to bed, Mr. Greg went outside to get some wood for the fire.
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He was crossing the yard when all at once he heard the call of a wild duck in the sky.
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He stopped and looked up.
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The night was very still.
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There was a thin yellow moon over the trees of the hill, and the sky was filled with stars.
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Then Mr. Greg heard the noise of wings flying low over his head, And he saw the four ducks, dark against the night sky, flying very close together.
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They were going around and around the house.
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Mr. Gregg forgot about the firewood and hurried back indoors.
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He was now quite afraid.
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He did not like what was going on, but he said nothing about it to Mrs. Gregg.
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All he said was, come on, let's go to bed.
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I feel tired.
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So they went to bed and to sleep.
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When morning came, Mr. Gregg was the first to wake up.
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He opened his eyes.
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He was about to put out a hand for his watch to see the time, but his hand wouldn't come out.
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That's funny, he said.
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Where's my hand?
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He lay still wondering what was up.
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Maybe he had hurt that hand in some way.
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He tried the other hand.
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That wouldn't come out either.
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He sat up, and for the first time he saw what he looked like.
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He gave a yell and jumped out of bed.
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Mrs. Greg woke up, and when she saw Mr. Greg standing there on the floor, she gave a yell too, for he was now a tiny little man.
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He was maybe as tall as the seat of a chair, but no taller, and where his arms had been, he had a pair of duck wings instead.
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But, but, but, cried Mrs. Greg, going purple in the face.
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My dear man, what's happened to you?
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What's happened to both of us, you mean? shouted Mr. Greg
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It was Mrs. Greg's turn to now jump out of bed She ran to look at herself in the glass,
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but she was not tall enough to see into it She was even smaller than Mr. Greg, and she too had got wings instead of arms Oh,
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oh, oh, oh, sobbed Mrs. Greg This is witch's work, cried Mr. Greg And both of them started running around the room,
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flapping their wings A minute later, Philip and William burst in.
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The same thing had happened to them.
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They had wings and no arms, and they were really tiny.
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They were about as big as robins.
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Mama, Mama, Mama, she roamed Philip.
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Look, Mama, we can fly.
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And they flew up into the air.
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Come down at once, said Mrs. Greg.
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You're much too high.
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But before she could say another word, Philip and William had flown right out of the window.
145
Mr. and Mrs. Greg ran to the window and looked out.
146
The two tiny boys were now high up in the sky.
147
Then Mrs. Greg said to Mr. Greg, Do you think we could do that, my dear?
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I don't see why not, Mr. Greg said.
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Come on, let's try.
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Mr. Greg began to flap his wings hard, and all at once up he went.
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Then Mrs. Greg did the same.
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Help, she cried as she started going up.
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Save me!
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Come on, said Mr. Greg.
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don't be afraid.
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So out the window they flew, far up into the sky, and it did not take them long to catch up with Philip and William.
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Soon, the whole family was flying around and around together.
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Oh, isn't it lovely, cried William.
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I've always wanted to know what it feels like to be a bird.
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Your wings are not getting tired, are they, dear, Mr. Greg and Mrs. Greg.
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Not at all, Mrs. Greg said.
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I could go on forever.
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Hey, look down there, said Philip.
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Somebody is walking in our garden.
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They all looked down, and there below them, in their own garden, they saw four enormous wild ducks.
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The ducks were as big as men, and what is more, they had great long arms like men instead of wings.
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The ducks were walking in a line to the door of the Greggs' house, swinging their arms and holding their beaks high in the air.
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Stop! called the tiny Mr. Gregg, flying down low over their heads.
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Go away!
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That's my house!
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The ducks looked up and quacked.
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The first one put a hand and opened the door of the house and went in.
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The others went in after him.
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The door shut.
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The Greggs flew down and sat on the wall near the door.
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Mrs. Gregg began to cry.
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Oh dear!
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Oh dear! she thought.
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They have taken our house.
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What shall we do?
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We have no place to go.
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Even the boys began to cry a bit now.
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We will be eaten by cats and foxes in the night, said Philip.
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I want to sleep in my own bed, said William.
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Now then, said Mr. Greg, it isn't any good crying.
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That won't help us.
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Shall I tell you what we're going to do?
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What, they said.
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Mr. Greg looked at them and smiled.
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We are going to build a nest.
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A nest, they said.
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Can we do that?
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We must do it, said Mr. Greg.
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We've got to have somewhere to sleep.
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Follow me.
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They flew off to a tall tree, and right at the top of it, Mr. Greg chose the place for the nest.
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Now we want sticks, he said.
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Lots and lots of little sticks.
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Off you go, all of you, and find them and bring them back here.
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But we have no hands, said Philip.
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Then use your mouth.
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Mrs. Greg and the children flew off.
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Soon they were back carrying sticks in their mouths.
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Mr. Greg took the sticks and started to build the nest.
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More, he said.
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I want more and more and more sticks.
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Keep going.
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The nest began to grow.
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Mr. Gregg was very good at making the sticks stick together.
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After a while, he said, that's enough sticks.
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Now I want leaves and feathers and things like that to make the inside nice and soft.
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The building of the nest went on and on.
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It took a long time, but at last it was finished.
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Try it, said Mr. Gregg, hopping back.
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He was very pleased with his work.
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Oh, isn't it lovely, cried Mrs. Gregg, going into it and sitting down.
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I feel I might lay an egg any moment.
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The others all got in beside her.
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How warm it is, said William.
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And what fun to be living so high up, said Philip.
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We may be small, but nobody can hurt us up here.
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But what about food, said Mrs. Gregg?
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We haven't had anything to eat all day.
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That's right, Mr. Greg said.
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So we will now fly back to the house
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and go in by an open window and get the tin of biscuits when the ducks aren't looking.
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Oh, we will be pecked to bits by those dirty great ducks, cried Mrs. Greg.
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We shall be very careful, my love, said Mr. Greg, and off they went.
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But when they got to the house, they found all the windows and doors closed.
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There was no way in.
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Just look at that beastly duck cooking at my stove, cried Mrs. Greg, as she flew past the kitchen window.
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How dare she!
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And look at that one holding my lovely gun, shouted Mr. Greg.
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One of them is lying in my bed, yelled William, looking into a top window.
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And one of them is playing with my electric train, cried Philip.
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Oh dear, oh dear, cried Mrs. Greg.
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They have taken over our whole house.
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We shall never get it back.
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And what are we going to eat?
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I will not eat worms, said Philip.
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I would rather die.
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Or slugs, said William.
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Mrs. Gregg took the two boys under her wings and hugged them.
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Don't worry, she said.
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I can mince it all up very fine and you won't even know the difference.
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Lovely slug burgers, delicious warm burgers.
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Oh no, cried William.
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Never, said Philip.
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Disgusting, said Mr. Greg.
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Just because we have wings, we don't have to eat bird food.
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We shall eat apples instead.
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Our trees are full of them.
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Come on.
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So they flew off to an apple tree.
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But to eat an apple without holding it in your hands is not at all easy.
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Every time you try to get your teeth into it, it just pushes away.
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In the end, they were able to get a few small bites each.
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And then it began to get dark.
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So they all flew back to the nest and lay down to sleep.
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It must have been about this time that I, back in my own house, picked up the telephone and tried to call Philip.
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I wanted to see if the family was all right.
262
Hello, I said.
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Quack, said a voice at the other end.
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Who is it?
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I asked.
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Quack, quack.
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Philip, I said.
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Is that you?
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Quack, quack, quack, quack, quack, quack.
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Oh, stop it, I said.
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Then there came a very funny noise.
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It was like a bird laughing.
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I put down the telephone quickly.
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Oh, that magic finger, I cried.
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What has it done to my friends?
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That night, while Mr. and Mrs. Greg and Phillip and William were trying to get some sleep up high in the nest, a great wind began to blow.
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The tree rocked from side to side and everyone, even Mr. Greg, was afraid that the nest would fall down.
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Then came the rain.
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It rained and rained, and the water ran into the nest, and they all got as wet as could be.
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And oh, it was a bad, bad night.
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At last the morning came, and with it the warm sun.
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Well, said Mrs. Gray, thank goodness that's over.
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I never want to sleep in a nest again.
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She got up and looked over the side.
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Help! she cried.
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Look!
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Look down there!
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What is it, my love? said Mr. Greg.
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He stood up and peeped over the side.
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He caught the surprise of his life!
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On the ground below them stood the four enormous ducks as tall as men, and three of them were holding guns in their hands.
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One had Mr. Greg's gun, one had Philip's gun, and one had William's gun.
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The guns were all pointing right up at the nest.
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No, no, no, called out Mr. and Mrs. Greg, both together.
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Don't shoot!
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Please don't shoot!
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Why not? said one of the ducks.
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It was the one who wasn't holding a gun.
299
You were always shooting at us.
300
Oh, but that's not the same, said Mr. Greg.
301
We are allowed to shoot ducks.
302
Who allows you? asked the duck.
303
We allow each other, said Mr. Greg.
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Very nice, said the duck.
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And now we are going to allow each other to shoot you.
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I would have loved to have seen Mr. Greg's face just then.
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Oh, please, cried Mrs. Greg.
308
My two little children are up here with us.
309
You wouldn't shoot my children.
310
Yesterday, you shot my children, said the duck.
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You shot all six of my children.
312
I'll never do it again, cried Mr. Greg.
313
Never, never, never.
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Do you really mean that? asked the duck.
315
I do mean it, said Mr. Greg.
316
I'll never shoot another duck as long as I live.
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That is not good enough, said the duck.
318
What about deer?
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I'll do anything you say if you will only put down those guns, cried Mr. Greg.
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I'll never shoot another duck or another deer or anything else again.
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Will you give me your word on that? said the duck.
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I will, I will, said Mr. Greg.
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Will you throw away your guns? asked the duck I will break them into tiny bits,
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said Mr. Greg And never again need you be afraid of me or my family Very well, said the duck You may now come down And by the way,
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may I congratulate you on the nest For a first effort, it's pretty good
326
Mr. and Mrs. Greg and Philip and William Hopped out of the nest and flew down Then all at once
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Everything went black before their eyes, and they couldn't see.
328
At the same time, a funny feeling came over them all, and they heard a great wind blowing into their ears.
329
Then the black that was before their eyes turned to blue, to green, to red, and then to gold.
330
And suddenly, there they were, standing in lovely bright sunshine in their own garden, near their own house, and everything was back to normal once again.
331
Our wings have gone, cried Mr. Gray, and our arms have come back.
332
And we are not tiny anymore, laughed Mrs. Gray.
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Oh, I am so glad.
334
Philip and William began dancing about with joy.
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Then high above their heads, they heard the call of a wild duck.
336
They all looked up and they saw the four birds, lovely against the blue sky, flying very close together, heading back to the lake in the woods.
337
It must have been about half an hour later that I myself walked into the Greg's garden.
338
I had come to see how things were growing, and I must admit I was expecting the worst.
339
At the gate, I stopped and stared.
340
It was a queer sight.
341
In one corner, Mr. Greg was smashing all three guns into tiny pieces with a huge hammer.
342
In another corner, Mrs. Greg was placing beautiful flowers upon sixteen tiny mounds of soil,
343
which I learned later were the graves of the ducks that had been shot the day before.
344
And in the middle of the yard stood Philip and William with a sack of their father's best barley beside them.
345
They were surrounded by ducks, doves, pigeons, sparrows, robins, larks, and many other kinds that I did not know.
346
And the birds were eating the barley that the boys were scattering by handful.
347
Good morning, Mr. Gregg, I said.
348
Mr. Greg lowered his hammer and looked at me.
349
My name is not Greg anymore, he said.
350
In honor of my feathered friends, I have changed it from Greg to Egg.
351
And I am Mrs. Egg, cried Mrs. Greg.
352
What happened, I asked.
353
They seemed to have gone completely dotty, all four of them.
354
Philip and William then began to tell me the whole story.
355
When they had finished, William said, Look, there's the nest.
356
Can you see it?
357
Right up in the top of that tree.
358
That's where we slept last night.
359
I built it all myself, Mr. Gregg said proudly.
360
Every stick of it.
361
If you don't believe us, Mrs. Egg said, just go into the house and take a look at the bathroom.
362
It's a mess.
363
They filled the tub right up into the brim, Phillip said.
364
They must have been swimming around in it all night.
365
And feathers everywhere.
366
Ducks like water, Mr. Egg said.
367
I'm glad they had a good time.
368
Just then, from somewhere over by the lake, there came a loud bang.
369
Someone's shooting, I cried.
370
That'll be Jim Cooper, Mr. Egg said.
371
Him and his three boys, they're shooting mad.
372
Those Coopers are the whole family.
373
Suddenly, I started to see red.
374
Then I got very hot all over.
375
Then the tip of my finger began tingling most terribly.
376
I could feel the power building up and up inside me.
377
I turned and started running towards the lake as fast as I could.
378
Hey! shouted Mr. Egg.
379
What's up?
380
Where are you going?
381
To find the coopers, I called back. But why?
382
You wait and see, I said.
383
They'll be nesting in the trees tonight.
384
Every one of them.
385
The end.
386
That's it for today, everyone.
387
I hope you guys enjoyed.
388
For more read-alongs like these, don't forget to subscribe.
389
If you enjoyed the book, give it a big thumbs up and share it with a friend.
390
I'll see you guys next time.
391
Bye!
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ืืืฆืจ ืืืืื ืืืขืจืืช ืืืืื ืืฉืืขืืจ ืืื
ืฉืืขืืจ ืืืืืืจ ืืื ืืจืื A2 ืืืืกืก ืขื ืืกืจืืื โThe Magic Fingerโ๐ผ - By Roald Dahlโ. ืืืืืื ืฉืืืืจืืช ืืื ืืจืื: Greg, duck, Philip, William, cried. ืืกืจืืื ืืื ืืฉ 391 ืืฉืคืืื ื-3797 ืืืืื ืืชืจืืื Shadowing. ืืืืืืจ ื ืืฉื 22:46. ืืืืืจ ืืืืจ ืืงืฆื ืืืขื ืฉื ื-167 ืืืืื ืืืงื, ืงืจืื ืืฉืืื ืืืืืืืืช. 85% ืืืืืืื ื ืืฆืืืช ืืื 3,000 ืืืืืื ืื ืคืืฆืืช ืืืืชืจ ืืื ืืืืช; ืืืื ืืืืื ืืช ืืฉืืจ ืืคื ื ืฉืืชืืืืื.
ืืืฆืจ ืืืืื ืืจืืื ืืกืจืืื ืืื
15 ืืืืื ืืืกืจืืื ืฉืืืื ืืืืื, ืขื ืืืืืื ืืืืฉืืขืืช ืฉืืื:
| ืืืื | ืืืืื | ืืฉืืขืืช |
|---|---|---|
| duck ืฉื ืขืฆื | /dสk/ | ืืจืืื \ ืึทึผืจึฐืึธื |
| nest ืฉื ืขืฆื | /nษst/ | ืงึตื |
| finger ืฉื ืขืฆื | /หfษชลษกษ/ | ืืฆืืข \ ืึถืฆึฐืึทึผืข f) |
| shout ืคืืขื | /สaสt/ | ืฆืขืง, ืฆืจื |
| deer ืฉื ืขืฆื | /dษชษน/ | ืืืื \ ืึทืึธึผื |
| yell ืคืืขื | /jษl/ | ืฆึธืจึทื |
| feather ืฉื ืขืฆื | /หfษรฐษ/ | ื ืืฆื, ื ืึนืฆึธื |
| ear ืฉื ืขืฆื | /หษชษฬฏ/ | ืืืื, ืึนืึถื |
| telephone ืฉื ืขืฆื | /หtษlษหfoสn/ | ืึถืึถืคืึนื |
| robin ืฉื ืขืฆื | /หษนษ.bษชn/ | ืึฒืึนืึพืึถืึธืึถื |
| cooper ืฉื ืขืฆื | /หkสpษ/ | ืึทืึฐืชึธื |
| hammer ืฉื ืขืฆื | /หhรฆmษ/ | ืคึทึผืึดึผืืฉื |
| gate ืฉื ืขืฆื | /หษกeษชฬฏt/ | ืฉึทืืขึทืจ |
| thin ืฉื ืชืืืจ | /หฮธษชn/ | ืึทึผืง |
| flower ืฉื ืขืฆื | /หfloสษ/ | ืคึถึผืจึทื |
Phrasal verbs ืฉืชืฉืืขื
| ืืืื | ืืืืื | ืืฉืืขืืช |
|---|---|---|
| come out ืคืืขื | /หkสm หaสt/ | ืึธืฆึธื |
| come back ืคืืขื | ืฉึธืื | |
| get up ืคืืขื | ืงึธื | |
| go up ืคืืขื | ืขึธืึธื |
ืืฉืคืืื ืฉืืืื ืืืืืจ ืขืืืื
ืืฉืคืืื ืงืฆืจืื ืืฉืืืื ืืืกืจืืื ืฉืืคืฉืจ ืืืฉืชืืฉ ืืื ืืฉืืื ืืืืืืืืช:
- My dear man, what's happened to you?
- What's happened to both of us, you mean?
- Shall I tell you what we're going to do?
- What has it done to my friends?
- What is it, my love?
ืืงืืืง ืืกืจืืื ืืื
ืืืื ืื ืฉืืืืืจ ืืฉืชืืฉ ืืื ืืื ืืจืื, ืขื ืืืืืื ืืืืืืงืืช ืืืกืจืืื:
| ืืื ื | ืืกืจืืื |
|---|---|
| ืืืื ืืืฉืื (Present perfect) have/has + past participle โ ืคืขืืื ืฉืงืจืชื ืืขืืจ ืืขืืืื ืืฉ ืื ืืฉืืืืช ืื ืืฉืคืขื ืขืืฉืื | have been ยท has made ยท I've always wanted |
| ืกืืื (Passive voice) be + past participle โ ืืืืฉ ืืื ืขื ืื ืฉืงืืจื, ืื ืขื ืื ืฉืขืืฉื ืืช ืืคืขืืื | is owned ยท was filled ยท will be eaten |
| ืืฉืคืื ืืืงื (Relative clauses) who / which + clause โ ืืืืข ื ืืกืฃ ืขื ืืื ืื ืืืจ | person who has ยท one who wasn |
| ืขืืจ ืืืืฉื (Past continuous) was/were + -ing โ ืคืขืืื ืฉืืืืชื ืืชืืืื ืืืื ืืกืืื ืืขืืจ | were carrying ยท was teaching ยท were going |
ืืืืื ืฉืฉืืื ืืฉืื ืื ืืืื
ืืืืืจ ืืฉืชืืฉ ื-40 ืงืืฆืืจืื ืืฆืืจืืช ืืงืืฆืจืืช, ืืื don't, I'll, can't. ืืืจื ืืืชื ืืฆืืจื ืืงืฆืจื, ืืคื ืฉืืชื ืฉืืืขืื ืืืชื.
- ืืฆืืืืื ืฉื โthโ: feather /หfษรฐษ/, thin /หฮธษชn/, thumb /หฮธสm/
- ืืฆืืืืื ืฉื โshโ ื-โzhโ: shout /สaสt/, flash /flรฆส/, delicious /dษชหlษช.สษs/, sunshine /หsสnสaษชn/, smash /smรฆส/
ืฆืืืืื ืฉืืืืจื ืขืืจืืช ืืชืงืฉืื ืืื:
- /w/ โ ืฉืคืชืืื ืืขืืืืืช, ืื /v/: swing /หswษชล/, swim /swษชm/, worm /wษm/, bookworm /หbสk.wษหm/, firewood /หfaษช.ษ.wสd/
- /รฆ/ โ ืคืชืื ืืืชืจ ืื-โืึถโ ืืขืืจืืช, ืื ืืื โaโ ื-โcupโ: bang /หbรฆล/, flash /flรฆส/, hammer /หhรฆmษ/, handful /หhรฆn(d)fสl/, laughter /หlรฆftษ/
- /r/ โ ืืืฉืื ืื ื ืืืขืช ืืฉืื ืืงืื, ืื ื-โืจโ ืืืจืื ืืช: deer /dษชษน/, robin /หษนษ.bษชn/, terribly /หtษษน.ษช.bli/, dare /dษ(ษ)ษน/, grave /ษกษนeษชv/
ืืื ืืชืจืื ืขื ืืกืจืืื ืืื
- ืืงืฉืืื ืืื ืืกืจืืื ืคืขื ืืืช ืืื ืืืืจ, ืืจืฉืื ืืช ืืืืืื ืฉืืชื ืื ืืืืจืื.
- ืืชืืืื ืืืืืจืืช 0.75ร, ืชืจืืื Shadowing ืืฉืคื ืืืจ ืืฉืคื, ืืืืจื ืืืืืจืืช ืจืืืื ืืฉืื ืืจืืืฉ ืงื.
- ืืงืืืื ืืช ืขืฆืืื ืืืฉืื ืืืงืืจ, ืชืื ืชืฉืืืช ืื ืืืืืื ืืื duck, nest, finger.
ืืื ืืื ืืงืช ืืฉืืืืืื ื?
ืฉืืืืืื ื ืืื ืืื ืืงืช ืืืืืช ืฉืคื ืืืืกืกืช ืืืข ืฉืคืืชืื ืืืงืืจ ืืืืฉืจืช ืืชืืจืืื ืื ืืงืฆืืขืืื ืืคืืคืืืจืืช ืขื ืืื ืืคืืืืืืื ื"ืจ ืืืืกื ืืจ ืืจืืืืืก. ืืฉืืื ืคืฉืืื ืื ืขืืฆืืชืืช: ืืชื ืืงืฉืื ืืืืืื ืืื ืืืืช ืืืืืืช ืืืืืจ ืขืืื ืืงืื ืจื ืืื โ ืืื ืฆื ืืขืืงื ืืืจื ืืืืืจ ืขื ืขืืืื ืฉื 1โ2 ืฉื ืืืช ืืืื. ืื ืืืื ืืืืื ื ืคืกืืืืช ืื ืชืจืืืื ืืงืืืง, ืฉืืืืืื ื ืืืจืื ืืช ืืืื ืืืฉืจืืจืื ืืคื ืืขืื ืืืฉืืืจ ืืคืืกื ืืืืืจ ืืืืชืืื ืื ืืื ืืช. ืืืงืจืื ืืจืืื ืฉืื ืืฉืคืจ ืืฉืืขืืชืืช ืืช ืืืืง ืืืืืื, ืืืื ืืื ืฆืื, ืืงืฆื, ืืืืืืจ ืืืืืืจ, ืืื ืช ืืฉืืืขื ืืฉืืฃ ืืืืืืจ โ ืื ืฉืืืคื ืืืชื ืืืืช ืืฉืืืืช ืืืขืืืืช ืืืืชืจ ืืืื ื ืIELTS Speaking ืืืชืงืฉืืจืช ืืื ืืืืช ืืขืืื ืืืืืชื.