From this time on, we should be paying closer attention to our writing. As we mentioned, up to now, the idea was to encourage you to write freely on your blogs, and keep them growing. So I never underlined the mistakes.
We’ll now move to a different stage. Before you post a text on the blog, try to write it on your Word programme and correct the mistakes that show with the ortographic option
I am sending your Dickens paragraphs corrected to your e-mail addresses. Also, the paragraphs some of you uploaded rehearsing verbs of walking and inversions.
Among those, I will paste here Pedro’s text, which needed only some corrections. This is a wonderful example of a tailor-made piece of writing in which you can deliberately introduce expressions and structures, and at the same time is well-written and engaging. Excellent!
Down the street came a weird collection of people. Some of them were striding, and other sauntering. I thought, as did most people, that it was a dream, but it wasn’t. Such was the fuss that the procession caught the attention of all passers-by . There were, in the group, people of all ages: the older hobbled, the younger marched, and even there were those who from time to time crawled, hopped and did a somersault.
Seldom had I had the opportunity of seeing such a thing, so that I rushed to the street. No sooner had I reached the crowd than they started to swagger, swinging their shoulders, and trotting to and fro. Under no cinrcunstances was I to miss that amazing show. Only after elbowing through people could I see a man shuffling and sliding on the place. Some masked figures bowed and waved their hands at times; others seemed to be drunk, and stumbled, rolled, and fell headlong.
Little did I expect what happened next. Somebody crept behind me, and suddenly sprang up making strange gestures. He nodded, took off his hat, and from nowhere appeared a white rabbit. I started in surprise. Never had I enjoyed myself more! And the smiling man bade his good-bye, giving me a bouquet of flowers that he took out from his sleeve. Should I have been allowed, I would probably have spent all the evening there. But a slap on my wrist brought me back to reality. It was my mother and I was five. I’ll never forget the first time a circus came to my village.