'' The Diamond Lens'' Part 1

'' When i was ten years old, one of my older counsin gave me a microscope. The first time i look through its magic lens, the clouds that surrounded my daily life rolld away. I saw a univer of tiny living creature in a drop of water. Day after day , night after night, i studied life under my microscope.The fungus that spoiled my mother's jam was, for me, the land of magic gardens. I would put one of those spotspf green mold under my microscope and see beautiful forests, when strange silver, golden, fruit hung from branches of tiny trees. I felt as if i had discovered anither Garden of Eden.Athough i didn't tell anyone about my secret world, i decided to spend my life to studying the microscope.My parents had other plans for me. When i was nearly 20 years old, they insisted that i learn a profession even though we were a rich family, and i really didn't have to do work at all. I decided to study medicine in New York.the city was far away from my family, so i could spen my time as i please. As long as i paid my medical school fees every year, my family would never know i wasn't attending any classes. In New York, i would be able to buy excellent microscopeand meet scientist from all over the world. I would have plenty of money and plenty of time to spend on my dream.Two days after i arrived in NY, i found a place to live. It was large enough for me to use one of the room as my laboratory. I filled this room with expensive scientific equipment that i didn't know how to use. But by the end of my first year in the city, i had become an expert with the microscope. I also had become more and more unhappy.The lens in my expensive microscope was still not strong enough to answer my question about life. I imagined there were still secret in Nature that the limited powerof my equipment prevented me from knowing .I lay wake nights, wishing to find a perfect lens- and instrument of great magnifiying power. Such a lens would permit me to see the life in the smallest part of its development. I was sure that a powerful lens like that could be build. And i spend my secon year in NY trying to creat it.I experimented with every kind of material. I tried simple glass, crystal and even precious stone. But i always found myself back where i started.My parents was angry at the lack of profession in my medical studies. I had not gone to one class since arriving in NY. Also, i had spend a lot of money on my experiments.One day, while i was working in labolatory, Jules Simon knockes at my door. He livedc in the apartment just above mine. I knew he loved jewelry, expensive clothing, and good living. There was something mysterious about him , too. He always had something to sell: a painting, rare statue, an expensive pair of lamps.I never understood why Simond did this . He didn't seem to need the money . He had many friends among the best families og NY.Simon wa s very excited as he came into my labolatory.'' O my dear fellow''he gasped. '' I have just seen the most amazing thing in the world ''He told me he had gone to visit a woman who had strange, magical powers. She could speak to the dead and read the minds of living. To test her, Simon had written some question about himself ion a piece of paper. The woman , Madame Vulpes, had answer all of the questions correctly.Hearing about the woman gave me an idea.................''This story by Fitz-James O'brien( the next part will be typed tomorrow, thanks for your reading ^@^)
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  • hiii Hùng, this is not my story, i just type it :). i read it in VOA news and i think it great so i want to share with EC friends ^^. thanks your comment . my yahoo nick is : cute_animals2007. hope your adding
  • hi donhara.
    i have read your story.it't very good and your english too.
    i'm hung and now im living in hanoi.at this time i want to improve my english and expand my relationship. it't very lucky to meet you in EC. and knew that you are vietnamese so i would like to talk with you. if it can please reply to me. if it can we can talk by yahoo nick. ok???
    have a nice day!!
    STORY.IT
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