Reading and Decoding English 10

Letter 2.5 Dreadfully Severe

If you know people who have Dyslexia, help them learn to read starting with this column. It takes patiences to teach them the individual sounds.

This is an excerpt from Title: Frankenstein or The Modern Prometheus by Mary Wollstonecraft (Godwin) Shelley

He iz so; but then he iz holle unejukated: he iz az silent az a Turk, and a kind ov ignorant karlesnes atendz him, hwich, hwil it renderz hiz kondukt the mor astonishing, detrakts from the interest and sempathe hwich otherwiz he wood komand.

Yet doo not supoz, bekauz I komplan a litel or bekauz I kan konsev a konsolashon for mi toilz hwich I ma never no, that I am wavering in mi rezolooshonz. Thoz ar az fiksd az fat, and mi voiej iz onle nou delad until the wether shal permit my embarkashon. The winter haz ben dredfulle sever, but the spring promisez wel, and it iz konsiderd az a remarkabul erle sezon, so that perhaps I ma sal sooner than I ekspekted. I shal doo nothing rashle: yoo no me sufishentle too konfid in mi proodens and konsideratness hwenever the safte ov otherz iz komited too mi kar.

I kannot deskrib too yoo mi sensashonz on the near prospekt ov mi undertaking. It iz impossibel too komunicat too yoo a konsepshon ov the trembling sensashon, half plezhurabel and half fearful, with hwich I am preparing too depart. I am going too uneksplord rejonz, too “the land ov mist and snow,” but I shal kil no albatrosez; therfor doo not be alarmd for mi safte or if I shood kom bak too yoo az worn and woful az the “Anchent Mariner.” Yoo wil smil at my aloozhon, but I wil diskloz a sekret.

Letter 2.5 Dreadfully Severe

He is so; but then he is wholly uneducated: he is as silent as a Turk, and a kind of ignorant carelessness attends him, which, while it renders his conduct the more astonishing, detracts from the interest and sympathy which otherwise he would command.

Yet do not suppose, because I complain a little or because I can conceive a consolation for my toils which I may never know, that I am wavering in my resolutions. Those are as fixed as fate, and my voyage is only now delayed until the weather shall permit my embarkation. The winter has been dreadfully severe, but the spring promises well, and it is considered as a remarkably early season, so that perhaps I may sail sooner than I expected. I shall do nothing rashly: you know me sufficiently to confide in my prudence and considerateness whenever the safety of others is committed to my care.

I cannot describe to you my sensations on the near prospect of my undertaking. It is impossible to communicate to you a conception of the trembling sensation, half pleasurable and half fearful, with which I am preparing to depart. I am going to unexplored regions, to “the land of mist and snow,” but I shall kill no albatross; therefore do not be alarmed for my safety or if I should come back to you as worn and woeful as the “Ancient Mariner.” You will smile at my allusion, but I will disclose a secret.

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