THE LANDLADY ROALD DAHL Billy Weave

THE LANDLADY
ROALD DAHL
Billy Weaver had travelled down from
London on the slow afternoon train, with a
change at Swindon on the way, and by the
time he got to Bath it was about nine
o’clock in the evening and the moon was
coming up out of a clear starry sky over
the houses opposite the station entrance.
But the air was deadly cold and the wind
was like a flat blade of ice on his cheeks.
“Excuse me,” he said, “but is there a
fairly cheap hotel not too far away from
here?”
“Try The Bell and Dragon,” the porter
answered, pointing down the road. “They
might take you in. It’s about a quarter of a
mile along on the other side.”
Billy thanked him and picked up his
suitcase and set out to walk the quarter-
mile to The Bell and Dragon. He had
20 never been to Bath before. He didn’t know
anyone who lived there. But Mr
Greenslade at the Head Office in London
had told him it was a splendid city. “Find
your own lodgings,” he had said, “and
then go along and report to the Branch
Manager as soon as you’ve got yourself
settled.”
Billy was seventeen years old. He was
wearing a new navy-blue overcoat, a new
brown trilby hat, and a new brown suit,
and he was feeling fine. He walked briskly
down the street. He was trying to do
everything briskly these days. Briskness,
he had decided, was the one common
characteristic of all successful
businessmen. The big shots up at Head
Office were absolutely fantastically brisk
all the time. They were amazing.
There were no shops on this wide street
40 that he was walking along, only a line of
tall houses on each side, all them
identical. They had porches and pillars
and four or five steps going up to their
front doors, and it was obvious that once
upon a time they had been very swanky
residences. But now, even in the
darkness, he could see that the paint was
peeling from the woodwork on their doors
and windows, and that the handsome
white façades were cracked and blotchy from
neglect.
Suddenly, in a downstairs window that was
brilliantly illuminated by a street-lamp not six
yards away, Billy caught sight of a printed
notice propped up against the glass in one of
the upper panes. It said BED AND
BREAKFAST. There was a vase of yellow
chrysanthemums, tall and beautiful, standing
just underneath the notice.
60 He stopped walking. He moved a bit closer.
Green curtains (some sort of velvety
material) were hanging down on either side of
the window. The chrysanthemums looked
wonderful beside them. He went right up and
peered through the glass into the room, and
the first thing he saw was a bright fire burning
in the hearth. On the carpet in front of the fire,
a pretty little dachshund was curled up asleep
with its nose tucked into its belly.
The room itself, so far as he could see in
the half-darkness, was filled with pleasant
furniture. There was a baby-grand piano and
a big sofa and several plump armchairs; and
in one corner he spotted a large parrot in a
cage. Animals were usually a good sign in a
place like this, Billy told himself; and all in all,
it looked to him as though it would be a pretty
decent house to stay in. Certainly it would be
more comfortable than The Bell and Dragon.
80 On the other hand, a pub would be more
congenial than a boarding-house. There
would be beer and darts in the evenings, and
lots of people to talk to, and it would probably
be a good bit cheaper, too. He had stayed a
couple of nights in a pub once before and he
had liked it. He had never stayed in any
boarding-houses, and, to be perfectly honest,
he was a tiny bit frightened of them. The
name itself conjured up images of watery
cabbage, rapacious landladies, and a
powerful smell of kippers in the living-room.
After dithering about like this in the cold for
two or three minutes, Billy decided that he
would walk on and take a look at The Bell
and Dragon before making up his mind. He
turned to go. And now a queer thing
happened to him. He was in the act of
stepping back and turning away from the

THE LANDLADY 
ROALD DAHL 
Billy Weaver had travelled down from 
London on the slow afternoon train, with a 
change at Swindon on the way, and by the 
time he got to Bath it was about nine 
o’clock in the evening and the moon was 
coming up out of a clear starry sky over 
the houses opposite the station entrance. 
But the air was deadly cold and the wind 
was like a flat blade of ice on his cheeks. 
 “Excuse me,” he said, “but is there a 
fairly cheap hotel not too far away from 
here?” 
 “Try The Bell and Dragon,” the porter 
answered, pointing down the road. “They 
might take you in. It’s about a quarter of a 
mile along on the other side.” 
 Billy thanked him and picked up his 
suitcase and set out to walk the quarter-
mile to The Bell and Dragon. He had 
20 never been to Bath before. He didn’t know 
anyone who lived there. But Mr 
Greenslade at the Head Office in London 
had told him it was a splendid city. “Find 
your own lodgings,” he had said, “and 
then go along and report to the Branch 
Manager as soon as you’ve got yourself 
settled.” 
 Billy was seventeen years old. He was 
wearing a new navy-blue overcoat, a new 
brown trilby hat, and a new brown suit, 
and he was feeling fine. He walked briskly 
down the street. He was trying to do 
everything briskly these days. Briskness, 
he had decided, was the one common 
characteristic of all successful 
businessmen. The big shots up at Head 
Office were absolutely fantastically brisk 
all the time. They were amazing. 
 There were no shops on this wide street 
40 that he was walking along, only a line of 
tall houses on each side, all them 
identical. They had porches and pillars 
and four or five steps going up to their 
front doors, and it was obvious that once 
upon a time they had been very swanky 
residences. But now, even in the 
darkness, he could see that the paint was 
peeling from the woodwork on their doors 
and windows, and that the handsome 
white façades were cracked and blotchy from 
neglect. 
 Suddenly, in a downstairs window that was 
brilliantly illuminated by a street-lamp not six 
yards away, Billy caught sight of a printed 
notice propped up against the glass in one of 
the upper panes. It said BED AND 
BREAKFAST. There was a vase of yellow 
chrysanthemums, tall and beautiful, standing 
just underneath the notice. 
60 He stopped walking. He moved a bit closer. 
 Green curtains (some sort of velvety 
material) were hanging down on either side of 
the window. The chrysanthemums looked 
wonderful beside them. He went right up and 
peered through the glass into the room, and 
the first thing he saw was a bright fire burning 
in the hearth. On the carpet in front of the fire, 
a pretty little dachshund was curled up asleep 
with its nose tucked into its belly. 
 The room itself, so far as he could see in 
the half-darkness, was filled with pleasant 
furniture. There was a baby-grand piano and 
a big sofa and several plump armchairs; and 
in one corner he spotted a large parrot in a 
cage. Animals were usually a good sign in a 
place like this, Billy told himself; and all in all, 
it looked to him as though it would be a pretty 
decent house to stay in. Certainly it would be 
more comfortable than The Bell and Dragon. 
80 On the other hand, a pub would be more 
congenial than a boarding-house. There 
would be beer and darts in the evenings, and 
lots of people to talk to, and it would probably 
be a good bit cheaper, too. He had stayed a 
couple of nights in a pub once before and he 
had liked it. He had never stayed in any 
boarding-houses, and, to be perfectly honest, 
he was a tiny bit frightened of them. The 
name itself conjured up images of watery 
cabbage, rapacious landladies, and a 
powerful smell of kippers in the living-room. 
 After dithering about like this in the cold for 
two or three minutes, Billy decided that he 
would walk on and take a look at The Bell 
and Dragon before making up his mind. He 
turned to go. And now a queer thing 
happened to him. He was in the act of 
stepping back and turning away from the

0/5000

จาก: -

เป็น: -

ผลลัพธ์ (ไทย) 1: [สำเนา]

คัดลอก!

THE LANDLADY ROALD DAHL Billy Weaver had travelled down from London on the slow afternoon train, with a change at Swindon on the way, and by the time he got to Bath it was about nine o’clock in the evening and the moon was coming up out of a clear starry sky over the houses opposite the station entrance. But the air was deadly cold and the wind was like a flat blade of ice on his cheeks. “Excuse me,” he said, “but is there a fairly cheap hotel not too far away from here?” “Try The Bell and Dragon,” the porter answered, pointing down the road. “They might take you in. It’s about a quarter of a mile along on the other side.” Billy thanked him and picked up his suitcase and set out to walk the quarter-mile to The Bell and Dragon. He had 20 never been to Bath before. He didn’t know anyone who lived there. But Mr Greenslade at the Head Office in London had told him it was a splendid city. “Find your own lodgings,” he had said, “and then go along and report to the Branch Manager as soon as you’ve got yourself settled.” Billy was seventeen years old. He was wearing a new navy-blue overcoat, a new brown trilby hat, and a new brown suit, and he was feeling fine. He walked briskly down the street. He was trying to do everything briskly these days. Briskness, he had decided, was the one common characteristic of all successful businessmen. The big shots up at Head Office were absolutely fantastically brisk all the time. They were amazing. There were no shops on this wide street 40 that he was walking along, only a line of tall houses on each side, all them identical. They had porches and pillars and four or five steps going up to their front doors, and it was obvious that once upon a time they had been very swanky residences. But now, even in the darkness, he could see that the paint was peeling from the woodwork on their doors and windows, and that the handsome white façades were cracked and blotchy from neglect. Suddenly, in a downstairs window that was brilliantly illuminated by a street-lamp not six yards away, Billy caught sight of a printed notice propped up against the glass in one of the upper panes. It said BED AND BREAKFAST. There was a vase of yellow chrysanthemums, tall and beautiful, standing just underneath the notice. 60 He stopped walking. He moved a bit closer. Green curtains (some sort of velvety material) were hanging down on either side of the window. The chrysanthemums looked wonderful beside them. He went right up and peered through the glass into the room, and the first thing he saw was a bright fire burning in the hearth. On the carpet in front of the fire, a pretty little dachshund was curled up asleep with its nose tucked into its belly. The room itself, so far as he could see in the half-darkness, was filled with pleasant furniture. There was a baby-grand piano and a big sofa and several plump armchairs; and in one corner he spotted a large parrot in a cage. Animals were usually a good sign in a place like this, Billy told himself; and all in all, it looked to him as though it would be a pretty decent house to stay in. Certainly it would be more comfortable than The Bell and Dragon. 80 On the other hand, a pub would be more congenial than a boarding-house. There would be beer and darts in the evenings, and lots of people to talk to, and it would probably be a good bit cheaper, too. He had stayed a couple of nights in a pub once before and he had liked it. He had never stayed in any boarding-houses, and, to be perfectly honest, he was a tiny bit frightened of them. The name itself conjured up images of watery cabbage, rapacious landladies, and a powerful smell of kippers in the living-room. After dithering about like this in the cold for two or three minutes, Billy decided that he would walk on and take a look at The Bell and Dragon before making up his mind. He turned to go. And now a queer thing happened to him. He was in the act of stepping back and turning away from the

การแปล กรุณารอสักครู่..

ผลลัพธ์ (ไทย) 2:[สำเนา]

คัดลอก!

การแปล กรุณารอสักครู่..

ผลลัพธ์ (ไทย) 3:[สำเนา]

คัดลอก!

I got fired.I got fired.I got fired.I got fired.I got fired.ที่ที่ฉันอยู่ คุณจะยังที่ที่ฉันอยู่ คุณจะยังที่ที่ฉันอยู่ คุณจะยังที่ที่ฉันอยู่ คุณจะยังที่ที่ฉันอยู่ คุณจะยังที่ที่ฉันอยู่ คุณจะยัง

การแปล กรุณารอสักครู่..

ภาษาอื่น ๆ

การสนับสนุนเครื่องมือแปลภาษา: กรีก, กันนาดา, กาลิเชียน, คลิงออน, คอร์สิกา, คาซัค, คาตาลัน, คินยารวันดา, คีร์กิซ, คุชราต, จอร์เจีย, จีน, จีนดั้งเดิม, ชวา, ชิเชวา, ซามัว, ซีบัวโน, ซุนดา, ซูลู, ญี่ปุ่น, ดัตช์, ตรวจหาภาษา, ตุรกี, ทมิฬ, ทาจิก, ทาทาร์, นอร์เวย์, บอสเนีย, บัลแกเรีย, บาสก์, ปัญจาป, ฝรั่งเศส, พาชตู, ฟริเชียน, ฟินแลนด์, ฟิลิปปินส์, ภาษาอินโดนีเซี, มองโกเลีย, มัลทีส, มาซีโดเนีย, มาราฐี, มาลากาซี, มาลายาลัม, มาเลย์, ม้ง, ยิดดิช, ยูเครน, รัสเซีย, ละติน, ลักเซมเบิร์ก, ลัตเวีย, ลาว, ลิทัวเนีย, สวาฮิลี, สวีเดน, สิงหล, สินธี, สเปน, สโลวัก, สโลวีเนีย, อังกฤษ, อัมฮาริก, อาร์เซอร์ไบจัน, อาร์เมเนีย, อาหรับ, อิกโบ, อิตาลี, อุยกูร์, อุสเบกิสถาน, อูรดู, ฮังการี, ฮัวซา, ฮาวาย, ฮินดี, ฮีบรู, เกลิกสกอต, เกาหลี, เขมร, เคิร์ด, เช็ก, เซอร์เบียน, เซโซโท, เดนมาร์ก, เตลูกู, เติร์กเมน, เนปาล, เบงกอล, เบลารุส, เปอร์เซีย, เมารี, เมียนมา (พม่า), เยอรมัน, เวลส์, เวียดนาม, เอสเปอแรนโต, เอสโทเนีย, เฮติครีโอล, แอฟริกา, แอลเบเนีย, โคซา, โครเอเชีย, โชนา, โซมาลี, โปรตุเกส, โปแลนด์, โยรูบา, โรมาเนีย, โอเดีย (โอริยา), ไทย, ไอซ์แลนด์, ไอร์แลนด์, การแปลภาษา.