Ah, Dorothy! Take today, for exampl

Ah, Dorothy!
Take today, for example. He had been given some new figures to check and he had asked Dorothy to read some of the details to him while he took notes. It was not until she had left that he realized that he had not written notes at all. Instead he had written Dorothy’s name several times. He was too embarrassed to ask Dorothy for the details again, so he had to look them up in the office of old Mr Shaw.
Mr Shaw was known for always being in a bed mood and he was no different this time. He didn’t like having to stay late to check figures for some junior manager. He didn’t like it at all.
Chester hated it when he made mistakes. It didn’t look good. But it didn’t happen often.
He decided he would walk home instead of taking the train. It was late in the evening but he felt he needed the walk to clear his thoughts after a busy day. Anyway, it would be a little punishment for being so stupid earlier on. He decided that he would eat at the shopping centre near his home. He liked the Chinese food there.
As he walked towards his favourite Chinese restaurant, he saw that the lights were still on in an old antique shop. He had often thought of looking into this shop because he liked shops that sold old things. He stopped and looked. There were boxes full of old books piled outside the shop. On the shop window was a notice. It read: Sorry, shop closed today. Open again tomorrow.
He bent down to look at the books. He saw all the usual old books: school books, and otter books with dirty, yellowing pages that were of no value to him. There was one smell, old book, however, that he noticed at once. It looked much older than the rest of the books. He picked it up.
‘Take it!’ said a voice behind him. Chester turned to see a man of about [eighty years old.] The man had opened the shop door and was carrying another box full of old looks. ‘These have all been around for years. My nephew is taking over the business and I don’t want to leave him with all this rubbish. Nobody wants – go on, help yourself!’
‘Thank,’ said Chester as he put the old book into his jacket pocket and went on to the Chinese restaurant.
Chester sat at his table drinking a beer. He had beiren looking forward to his chicken and rice. When it arrived, he found that the chicken had not been cooked properly. It was pink inside. He decided to complain and called the waiter.
‘Sir?’ asked the waiter.
Chester noticed that the waiter was new to the place.
‘I’m not eating this,’ Chester told him. ‘The chicken is pink inside – it hasn’t been cooked properly.’
‘It’s rare chicken, sir,’ the waiter said. ‘Many, of our customers prefer its finer taste.’
Chester looked straight at the waiter. He thought the waiter was not showing him enough respect.
‘Really?’ answered Chester.
‘It’s very popular, sir,’ said the waiter.
‘And I suppose the illness they caught from eating undercooked chicken was popular with them too, eh?’ said Chester. Other people in the restaurant could hear. He was annoyed.
The waiter said nothing but his face turned rad.
‘Please rake this chicken back,’ Chester told the waiter, ‘and give me a piece that has been cooked all the way through.’
‘Certainly, sir,’ said the waiter as he took the food and went back to the kitchen.
While Chester was waiting for his meal to return he remembered the little book in his pocket. He thought he would have a book at it while he was waiting. He took it out of his pocket and examined it.
It was small enough to fit easily into his pocket and was covered with old, fine leather. He had to clean off some of the dirt in order to read the title on the cover. At first the
Title seemed to be in another language with strange letters and shapes, but as he looked they seemed to change into English. He closed his eyes tightly and opened them again. He was mistaken, of course. He must have been. When he looked again the title of the book was there. It was still dirty but it was clearly written in English. It read: The Book of Thoughts.
It didn’t say who wrote the book.
Chester thought it must be one of those old books which offered advice about life. He felt disappointed.
He tried to open the book but it had an old metal lock which shopped him. Then suddenly the book seemed to open quite naturally at the middle pages. It was almost as if it wanted him to read it.
What he saw when he looked surprised him. The pages had nothing written on them and they were clean and white, not at all like the yellowed pages one would expect to find in a book this old. Did all the pages have no writing on them?
Just then the waiter returned with Chester’s chicken and rice and placed it before him.
‘Thank you,’ said Chester.
‘My pleasure, sir,’ answered the waiter with a smile.
Chester happened to look at the opened book. It now had writing on the pages which only a moment before had been clean and white. The writing said.
He wouldn’t look so pleased with himself if he knew what I had but on to his chicken while I was in the kitchen. That will teach him to make me look silly.
Chester couldn’t believe what he saw. Was this what the waiter was thinking?
Anything else, sir?’ asked the waiter politely.
Er. . . no, thank you,’ said Chester.
As the waiter walked off the writing feel hungry any more. And he could hardly complain to the manager about the waiter. Not without telling them about the book. Who would believe him?
Chester left the chicken and rice alone, paid his bill and went. He did not leave the waiter a tip
When Chester got home he felt exhausted. He took out the book and looked inside it once more. The pages were now all white and clear again. Perhaps it had all been a result of his tiredness. He had been thinking too much about work – and about Dorothy. That must be it. There was no other possible explanation: ha was simply too tired to think straight.
He went to bed and slept almost at once.
The train was less crowded than usual the following morning. He was lucky enough to find a seat for his short journey. He liked to watch people as they all sat or stood with faces that gave no sign of what they were thinking. Everybody avoided looking at another person in the eye – that might cause trouble.
Chester relaxed in his seat. He had decided that the experience of the night before was best forgotten. Who ever heard of a look that read thoughts? The whole idea was crazy!
Then he remembered that he still had the book in his pocket. He ought to throw it away rubbish bin Yes, that’s what he would do. Get rid of the stupid thing.
He noticed that the women who sat opposite was an attractive, smartly dressed middle-aged lady. Her eyes looked down and her face showed noting of her thoughts. Chester wondered what she was thinking.
Should he look at the book?
Perhaps just a little look would be fun. Where was the harm in it?
He reached for the book in his pocket. He took it out.
‘Go on,’ he said to himself,’ you might as well try out the book. Just for a laugh. Do it!’
He opened the book and almost at once words in clear black letters appeared on the white pages. The words read:
I’ve given the best years of my life to him. Bank managers have married their secretaries before now. He must decide today-leave that awful wife and marry me or I’ll shoot him and myself dead.
Chester saw that the woman’s soft handbag had something in it that looked hard. Could it be a gun? He quickly shut the book and looked away.
Next he saw a tough-looking man wearing a T-shirt, showing his powerful arms. What was he thinking?
Chester opened the book. It read:
I like chicken better than pork. Fried chicken is the best. Followed by chocolate ice cream–my favourite. Mum’s a great cook- I love you, Mum.
Chester couldn’t help smiling at the man. The man saw him and gave him a dangerous look. Just then the train reached Chester’s station.
Time to get off the asked the train.
Anything else, sir?’ waiter politely.
‘Er . . . no, thank you,’ said Chester.
As the waiter walked off the writing disappeared. Chester looked at his meal. He didn’t feel hungry any more. And he could hardly complain to the manager about the waiter. Not without telling them about the book. Who would believe him?
Chester left the chicken and rice alone, paid his bill and went. He did not leave the waiter a tip.
When Chester got home he felt exhausted. He took out the book and looked inside it once more. The pages were now all white and clear again perhaps it had all been a result of his tiredness. He had been thinking too much about work – and about Dorothy. That must be it. There was no other possible explanation: he was simply too tired to think straight.
He went to bed and slept almost at once.
The train was less crowded then usual the following morning. He was lucky enough to find a seat for his short journey. He liked to watch people as they all sat or stood with faces that gave no sign of what they were thinking. Everybody avoided looking at another person in the eye – that might cause trouble.
Chester relaxed in his seat. He had decided that the experience of the night before was best forgotten. Who ever heard of a book that read thoughts? The whole idea was crazy!
Then he remembered that he still had the book in his
pocket. He ought to throw it away in the next rubbish bin.
Yes, that’s what he would do. Get rid of the stupid thing.
He noticed that the woman who sat opposite was an attractive, smartly dressed middle-aged lady. Her eyes looked down and her face showed nothing of her thoughts. Chester wondered what she was thinking.
Should he look at the book?
Perhaps just a little look would be fun. Where was the harm in it?
He reached for the book in his pocket. He took it out.
‘Go on,’ he said to himself,’ you might as well try out the b

ผลลัพธ์ (ไทย) 1:

อา โดโรธี ใช้เวลาวันนี้ เช่นกัน เขาได้รับตัวเลขบางอย่างใหม่เพื่อตรวจสอบ และเขาถามโดโรธีอ่านรายละเอียดบางอย่างให้เขาในขณะที่เขาได้บันทึก ได้จนกว่าที่เธอได้จากไปไม่ให้เขารู้ว่า เขามีไม่เขียนบันทึกทั้งหมด แต่ เขาได้เขียนชื่อของโดโรธีหลายครั้ง เขาถูกอายเกินไปขอโดโรธีรายละเอียดอีก ดังนั้นเขาต้องค้นหาใน office ของ Shaw นายเก่า นาย Shaw มีชื่อเสียงมักจะเป็นอารมณ์เตียง และกำลังไม่ต่างกันเวลานี้ เขาไม่ได้ต้องมีการเดินสายเพื่อตรวจสอบตัวเลขบางตัวจัดการสำหรับเด็ก เขาไม่ชอบมันเลยเชสเตอร์ขี้เกียจก็เมื่อเขาทำผิดพลาด มันไม่ได้ดูดี แต่มันไม่ได้เกิดขึ้นบ่อยครั้ง เขาตัดสินใจเขาจะเดินกลับแทนการรถไฟ มันเป็นปลายในตอนเย็น แต่เขารู้สึกว่า เขาต้องเดินไปล้างความคิดของเขาหลังจากวันที่วุ่นวาย อย่างไรก็ตาม มันจะลงโทษน้อยกำลังโง่ดังนั้นก่อนหน้านี้ใน เขาตัดสินใจว่า จะกินที่ศูนย์การค้าใกล้บ้าน เขาชอบอาหารจีนมี ขณะที่เขาเดินเข้าไปหาร้านอาหารจีนของเขาชื่นชอบ เขาเห็นว่า ไฟมีอยู่ในร้านขายของเก่าเก่า เขามักจะมีความคิดของการมองเข้าไปในร้านนี้ เพราะเขาชอบร้านที่ขายสิ่งเก่า เขาหยุด และมอง มีกล่องเก่าเต็มของหนังสือชั้นนอกร้าน ร้านหน้าต่างไม่แจ้ง มันอ่าน: ขออภัย ร้านปิดวันนี้ เปิดอีกครั้งวันพรุ่งนี้ He bent down to look at the books. He saw all the usual old books: school books, and otter books with dirty, yellowing pages that were of no value to him. There was one smell, old book, however, that he noticed at once. It looked much older than the rest of the books. He picked it up. ‘Take it!’ said a voice behind him. Chester turned to see a man of about [eighty years old.] The man had opened the shop door and was carrying another box full of old looks. ‘These have all been around for years. My nephew is taking over the business and I don’t want to leave him with all this rubbish. Nobody wants – go on, help yourself!’ ‘Thank,’ said Chester as he put the old book into his jacket pocket and went on to the Chinese restaurant.Chester sat at his table drinking a beer. He had beiren looking forward to his chicken and rice. When it arrived, he found that the chicken had not been cooked properly. It was pink inside. He decided to complain and called the waiter. ‘Sir?’ asked the waiter. Chester noticed that the waiter was new to the place. ‘I’m not eating this,’ Chester told him. ‘The chicken is pink inside – it hasn’t been cooked properly.’ ‘It’s rare chicken, sir,’ the waiter said. ‘Many, of our customers prefer its finer taste.’ Chester looked straight at the waiter. He thought the waiter was not showing him enough respect. ‘Really?’ answered Chester. ‘It’s very popular, sir,’ said the waiter. ‘And I suppose the illness they caught from eating undercooked chicken was popular with them too, eh?’ said Chester. Other people in the restaurant could hear. He was annoyed. The waiter said nothing but his face turned rad. ‘Please rake this chicken back,’ Chester told the waiter, ‘and give me a piece that has been cooked all the way through.’ ‘Certainly, sir,’ said the waiter as he took the food and went back to the kitchen. While Chester was waiting for his meal to return he remembered the little book in his pocket. He thought he would have a book at it while he was waiting. He took it out of his pocket and examined it. It was small enough to fit easily into his pocket and was covered with old, fine leather. He had to clean off some of the dirt in order to read the title on the cover. At first theTitle seemed to be in another language with strange letters and shapes, but as he looked they seemed to change into English. He closed his eyes tightly and opened them again. He was mistaken, of course. He must have been. When he looked again the title of the book was there. It was still dirty but it was clearly written in English. It read: The Book of Thoughts. It didn’t say who wrote the book. Chester thought it must be one of those old books which offered advice about life. He felt disappointed. He tried to open the book but it had an old metal lock which shopped him. Then suddenly the book seemed to open quite naturally at the middle pages. It was almost as if it wanted him to read it. What he saw when he looked surprised him. The pages had nothing written on them and they were clean and white, not at all like the yellowed pages one would expect to find in a book this old. Did all the pages have no writing on them? Just then the waiter returned with Chester’s chicken and rice and placed it before him. ‘Thank you,’ said Chester. ‘My pleasure, sir,’ answered the waiter with a smile. Chester happened to look at the opened book. It now had writing on the pages which only a moment before had been clean and white. The writing said. He wouldn’t look so pleased with himself if he knew what I had but on to his chicken while I was in the kitchen. That will teach him to make me look silly. Chester couldn’t believe what he saw. Was this what the waiter was thinking? Anything else, sir?’ asked the waiter politely.Er. . . no, thank you,’ said Chester. As the waiter walked off the writing feel hungry any more. And he could hardly complain to the manager about the waiter. Not without telling them about the book. Who would believe him? Chester left the chicken and rice alone, paid his bill and went. He did not leave the waiter a tipWhen Chester got home he felt exhausted. He took out the book and looked inside it once more. The pages were now all white and clear again. Perhaps it had all been a result of his tiredness. He had been thinking too much about work – and about Dorothy. That must be it. There was no other possible explanation: ha was simply too tired to think straight. He went to bed and slept almost at once.The train was less crowded than usual the following morning. He was lucky enough to find a seat for his short journey. He liked to watch people as they all sat or stood with faces that gave no sign of what they were thinking. Everybody avoided looking at another person in the eye – that might cause trouble. Chester relaxed in his seat. He had decided that the experience of the night before was best forgotten. Who ever heard of a look that read thoughts? The whole idea was crazy! Then he remembered that he still had the book in his pocket. He ought to throw it away rubbish bin Yes, that’s what he would do. Get rid of the stupid thing. He noticed that the women who sat opposite was an attractive, smartly dressed middle-aged lady. Her eyes looked down and her face showed noting of her thoughts. Chester wondered what she was thinking. Should he look at the book? Perhaps just a little look would be fun. Where was the harm in it? He reached for the book in his pocket. He took it out. ‘Go on,’ he said to himself,’ you might as well try out the book. Just for a laugh. Do it!’ He opened the book and almost at once words in clear black letters appeared on the white pages. The words read: I’ve given the best years of my life to him. Bank managers have married their secretaries before now. He must decide today-leave that awful wife and marry me or I’ll shoot him and myself dead. Chester saw that the woman’s soft handbag had something in it that looked hard. Could it be a gun? He quickly shut the book and looked away. Next he saw a tough-looking man wearing a T-shirt, showing his powerful arms. What was he thinking? Chester opened the book. It read: I like chicken better than pork. Fried chicken is the best. Followed by chocolate ice cream–my favourite. Mum’s a great cook- I love you, Mum. Chester couldn’t help smiling at the man. The man saw him and gave him a dangerous look. Just then the train reached Chester’s station. Time to get off the asked the train. Anything else, sir?’ waiter politely. ‘Er . . . no, thank you,’ said Chester. As the waiter walked off the writing disappeared. Chester looked at his meal. He didn’t feel hungry any more. And he could hardly complain to the manager about the waiter. Not without telling them about the book. Who would believe him? Chester left the chicken and rice alone, paid his bill and went. He did not leave the waiter a tip. When Chester got home he felt exhausted. He took out the book and looked inside it once more. The pages were now all white and clear again perhaps it had all been a result of his tiredness. He had been thinking too much about work – and about Dorothy. That must be it. There was no other possible explanation: he was simply too tired to think straight. He went to bed and slept almost at once.
The train was less crowded then usual the following morning. He was lucky enough to find a seat for his short journey. He liked to watch people as they all sat or stood with faces that gave no sign of what they were thinking. Everybody avoided looking at another person in the eye – that might cause trouble.
Chester relaxed in his seat. He had decided that the experience of the night before was best forgotten. Who ever heard of a book that read thoughts? The whole idea was crazy!
Then he remembered that he still had the book in his
pocket. He ought to throw it away in the next rubbish bin.
Yes, that’s what he would do. Get rid of the stupid thing.
He noticed that the woman who sat opposite was an attractive, smartly dressed middle-aged lady. Her eyes looked down and her face showed nothing of her thoughts. Chester wondered what she was thinking.
Should he look at the book?
Perhaps just a little look would be fun. Where was the harm in it?
He reached for the book in his pocket. He took it out.
‘Go on,’ he said to himself,’ you might as well try out the b

ผลลัพธ์ (ไทย) 3:

อ้า โดโรธี !
เอาวันนี้ ตัวอย่างเช่น เขาได้รับบางตัวเลขใหม่เพื่อตรวจสอบและเขาได้ขอให้โดโรธีอ่านบางส่วนของรายละเอียดกับเขาในขณะที่เขาเอาบันทึก มันไม่ได้จนกว่าเธอมีซ้ายที่เขาตระหนักว่าเขาไม่ได้เขียนบันทึกเลย แทนเขาเขียนชื่อโดโรธี หลายๆ ครั้ง เขาอายที่จะถามโดโรธีในรายละเอียดอีกครั้งดังนั้น เขาต้องมองพวกเขาขึ้นในสำนักงานเก่านายชอว์
นายชอว์เป็นที่รู้จักกันมักจะเป็นเตียงอารมณ์และเขาก็ไม่แตกต่างในครั้งนี้ เขาไม่ได้ชอบที่ต้องอยู่ดึกเพื่อตรวจสอบตัวเลขบางจูเนียร์ผู้จัดการ เขาไม่ชอบมันเลย เกลียดมัน
เชสเตอร์เมื่อเขาทำผิด มันดูไม่ค่อยดี แต่มันไม่ได้เกิดขึ้นบ่อยๆ
เขาตัดสินใจที่จะเดินกลับบ้านแทนการรถไฟมันเป็นปลายในตอนเย็น แต่เขารู้สึกว่าเขาต้องเดินไปล้างความคิดของเขาหลังวันวุ่นวาย ยังไงก็ตาม มันก็จะลงโทษน้อยโง่มากก่อนหน้านี้ เขาตัดสินใจว่าเขาจะกิน ที่ศูนย์การค้าใกล้บ้านของเขา เขาชอบอาหารจีนที่นี่ .
เมื่อเขาเดินต่อร้านอาหารโปรดของเขา เขาเห็นแสงสว่างอยู่ในร้านขายของเก่าโบราณเขามักคิดว่า มองเข้าไปในร้าน เพราะเขาชอบร้านค้าที่ขายสิ่งที่เก่า เขาหยุดและมอง มีกล่องที่เต็มไปด้วยกองหนังสือเก่านอกร้าน บนหน้าต่างร้านค้า คือ แจ้งให้ทราบล่วงหน้า อ่าน : ขออภัย ปิดร้านวันนี้ เปิดพรุ่งนี้
เขาก้มลงมองหนังสือ เขาเห็นทั้งหมดปกติหนังสือเก่าหนังสือโรงเรียนและนากหนังสือสกปรกสีเหลืองหน้าที่ไม่มีคุณค่าสำหรับเขา มีกลิ่นหนังสือเก่า แต่ที่เขาสังเกตเห็นทันที มันดูแก่กว่าส่วนที่เหลือของหนังสือ เขาหยิบมันขึ้นมา .
' ทำมัน ! ' เสียงนั้นดังอยู่ข้างหลังเขา เชสเตอร์ หันไปเห็นผู้ชายประมาณ [ แปดสิบปี ] คนก็เปิดประตูร้าน และถืออีกกล่องดูเก่า เหล่านี้ได้รับรอบสำหรับปี