ПОЖАЛУЙСТА ЗДЕЛАЙТЕ ПЕРЕСКАЗ ТЕКСТА ДАЮ 35 БАЛЛОВ The Canterville Ghost When Mr Hiram B Otis, the American ambassador, bought Canterville Chase, eveiy one told him it was a very foolish thing to do, as the place was haunted. At eleven oclock the family went to bed, and by half-past all the lights were out. Some time after, Mr Otis woke up because of a noise outside his room. It sounded like the clank of metal. He got up at once, struck a match, and looked at the time. It was exactly one oclock. Mr Otis was quite calm. The strange noise continued, and with it he heard the sound of footsteps. He put on his slippers, took a small bottle out of his dressing case, and opened the door. Right in front of him he saw an old man. He looked terrible. His eyes were red; his hair was long and grey; his clothes were old-fashioned and dirty, and there were handcuffs and rusty chains on his wrists and ankles. "My dear sir," said Mr Otis, "those chains need oiling. Here take this small bottle of lubricant. I will leave it here for you and I will give you more if you need it." With these words the ambassador put the bottle down on a marble table, and went back to bed, closing the door behind him.

The Canterville GhostWhen Mr Hiram B Otis, the American ambassador, bought Canterville Chase, eveiy one told him it was a very foolish thing to do, as the place was haunted.
At eleven oclock the family went to bed, and by half-past all the lights were out. Some time after, Mr Otis woke up because of a noise outside his room.
The strange noise continued, and with it he heard the sound of footsteps. 
"My dear sir," said Mr Otis, "those chains need oiling. Here take this small bottle of lubricant.
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