英语作文改编短剧

it seems that nowadays more and more directers enjoy filmizing those classics of literature into movies. people hold different opinions about that.those who prefer the original version think that there are more details and the words are more beautiful in books.while others like to watch the film versions because they think in this way,they can save a lot of time and gain the essence of those masterpieces as well.furthermore,some film versions are more understandable and interesting than books. while in my humble opinion,i think there are both pros and cons in choosing either way.in today's fast-pace society,you may not have enough time reading books but 2- hour movies will more or less help the viewers gain concerned knowledge.but just as one eastern wise man once said,a book holds a house of gold,most books are more profound than their movie versions.thus you will gain more in a reader's viewpoint than in a viewer's.

THE LITTLE MATCH GIRLMost terribly cold it was; it snowed, and was nearly quite dark, and evening--the last evening of the year. In this cold and darkness there went along thestreet a poor little girl, bareheaded, and with naked feet. When she left homeshe had slippers on, it is true; but what was the good of that? They were verylarge slippers, which her mother had hitherto worn; so large were they; andthe poor little thing lost them as she scuffled away across the street,because of two carriages that rolled by dreadfully fast.One slipper was nowhere to be found; the other had been laid hold of by anurchin, and off he ran with it; he thought it would do capitally for a cradlewhen he some day or other should have children himself. So the little maidenwalked on with her tiny naked feet, that were quite red and blue from cold.She carried a quantity of matches in an old apron, and she held a bundle ofthem in her hand. Nobody had bought anything of her the whole livelong day; noone had given her a single farthing.She crept along trembling with cold and hunger--a very picture of sorrow, thepoor little thing!The flakes of snow covered her long fair hair, which fell in beautiful curlsaround her neck; but of that, of course, she never once now thought. From allthe windows the candles were gleaming, and it smelt so deliciously of roastgoose, for you know it was New Year's Eve; yes, of that she thought.In a corner formed by two houses, of which one advanced more than the other,she seated herself down and cowered together. Her little feet she had drawnclose up to her, but she grew colder and colder, and to go home she did notventure, for she had not sold any matches and could not bring a farthing ofmoney: from her father she would certainly get blows, and at home it was coldtoo, for above her she had only the roof, through which the wind whistled,even though the largest cracks were stopped up with straw and rags.Her little hands were almost numbed with cold. Oh! a match might afford her aworld of comfort, if she only dared take a single one out of the bundle, drawit against the wall, and warm her fingers by it. She drew one out. "Rischt!"how it blazed, how it burnt! It was a warm, bright flame, like a candle, asshe held her hands over it: it was a wonderful light. It seemed really to thelittle maiden as though she were sitting before a large iron stove, withburnished brass feet and a brass ornament at top. The fire burned with suchblessed influence; it warmed so delightfully. The little girl had alreadystretched out her feet to warm them too; but--the small flame went out, thestove vanished: she had only the remains of the burnt-out match in her hand.She rubbed another against the wall: it burned brightly, and where the lightfell on the wall, there the wall became transparent like a veil, so that shecould see into the room. On the table was spread a snow-white tablecloth; uponit was a splendid porcelain service, and the roast goose was steaming famouslywith its stuffing of apple and dried plums. And what was still more capital tobehold was, the goose hopped down from the dish, reeled about on the floorwith knife and fork in its breast, till it came up to the poor little girl;when--the match went out and nothing but the thick, cold, damp wall was leftbehind. She lighted another match. Now there she was sitting under the mostmagnificent Christmas tree: it was still larger, and more decorated than theone which she had seen through the glass door in the rich merchant's house.Thousands of lights were burning on the green branches, and gaily-coloredpictures, such as she had seen in the shop-windows, looked down upon her.The little maiden stretched out her hands towards them when--the match wentout. The lights of the Christmas tree rose higher and higher, she saw them nowas stars in heaven; one fell down and formed a long trail of fire."Someone is just dead!" said the little girl; for her old grandmother, theonly person who had loved her, and who was now no more, had told her, thatwhen a star falls, a soul ascends to God.She drew another match against the wall: it was again light, and in the lustrethere stood the old grandmother, so bright and radiant, so mild, and with suchan expression of love."Grandmother!" cried the little one. "Oh, take me with you! You go away whenthe match burns out; you vanish like the warm stove, like the delicious roastgoose, and like the magnificent Christmas tree!" And she rubbed the wholebundle of matches quickly against the wall, for she wanted to be quite sure ofkeeping her grandmother near her. And the matches gave such a brilliant lightthat it was brighter than at noon-day: never formerly had the grandmother beenso beautiful and so tall. She took the little maiden, on her arm, and bothflew in brightness and in joy so high, so very high, and then above wasneither cold, nor hunger, nor anxiety--they were with God.