George Stephenson was born in 1781 in a poor family. He had to start work when he was only eight. When George was fourteen, he became his father's helper. He spent a lot of time learning about engines. On holidays, he often took one engine into pieces and studied each piece carefully. Soon he became a very good worker though he could not read or write.

      He began to learn the English letters when he was seventeen years old. Every day after he did twelve hours of hard work, he walked a long way to have lessons from a young teacher.

      On his eighteenth birthday, he wrote his own name for the first time in his life. George invented many things in his life. The train was the greatest one among them. Today when we watch or take trains from one place to another, we will think of this great man—George Stephenson.

    One evening Tim is driving his car in the country and looking for a hotel. Then he sees an old man on the side of the road, so he stops his car and says to the old man, "Where is Sun Hotel? Will you please tell me how to get there?" "Yes," the old man answers. "I'll show you the way." He gets into Tim's car, and they drive for about 12 kilometres. When they come to a small house, the old man says, "Stop here." Tim stops and looks at the house. And he says to the old man, "But this isn't a hotel." "No," the old man answers. "This is my house. And now I'll show you the way to Sun Hotel. Turn back and go 9 kilometres. Then you'll see the hotel on your left. "

    One day, Susie was unhappy when she came home from school. "What's the matter, my dear?" asked her mother, drawing her to her side and smiling.

    "All our class must hand in compositions tomorrow. We must write 12 lines at least. But I can never write one. I'll have to go to school without a composition, for I won't copy one from a book, or ask you or papa to write one for me."

    "That's right," said her mother. "You'll be happier with a poor composition, if it's your own, than with a fine one written by somebody else. But cheer up. Run into the garden and play. I'll call you in half an hour. Don't think about your composition now. Just have a good time."

    It seemed just a few minutes to Susie before she heard her mother calling her. She went into the house immediately — her hands full of sweet flowers, and her face red with exercise.

    Then her mother asked her to sit by the window with a nice piece of paper and a pencil, and write something about what she could see. "Never mind your composition; do this to please me, and we'll talk about that later."

    Although Susie thought her mother's request was strange, she knew she always had a good reason for everything she did. So she did as her mother requested.

    As she looked out, she first saw the western sky and some bright, sunset clouds. "Oh, mother, what a sunset!"

    "Don't talk. Just write."

    The pencil began moving rapidly across the paper. She wrote about the sunset clouds, the look of the distant hills, the streets, the river, the garden with its flowers, and the birds flying past the window. She forgot all about the terrible composition!

    Just as she had reached the bottom of the page, her mother came in and said with a smile, "Well, Susie, how does that composition come on?"

    "Composition! You told me not to think about it, and I've never thought of it once. I've had such a nice time writing about what I could see from the window."

    Mrs. Smith took the paper and read what Susie had written. She said, "There, Susie, that's a very nice composition, really."

    "A composition! Is that a composition?" Susie asked in surprise.

    "Yes, my dear, and a very good one, too, if we find a title for it," replied her mother. Then she added, "I'm sure it will please your teacher, as it does me. You see, it's easy enough to write a composition if you have anything interesting to write about."

    This is Monica's day. And she thinks it is interesting and helpful. Let's read it together.