MÌNH LÀM XONG BÀI ĐỌC NÀY CỦA THẦY VĨNH BÁ MÀ ĐỌC ĐÁP ÁN KHÔNG HIỂU SAO RA A, CÁC BẠN GIẢI THÍCH GIÚP MÌNH VỚI Ạ Most children at the tender age of six or so are full of most impractical scheme for becoming policemen, firemen or train drivers when they grow up. But when I was that age, I could not be bothered with such mundane ambitions. I knew exactly what I wanted to do, I was going to have my own zoo. At the time, this did not seem to me, and still does not seem, a very unreasonable idea. My friends and relatives, who had long, found me strange because I showed little interest in anything that did not have fur or feathers, accepted this as just another manifestation of my strangeness. They felt that, if they ignored my often-repeated remarks about owning my own zoo, I would eventually grow out of it. As the years passed, however, to the bewilderment of those friends and relatives, my resolve to have my own zoo grew greater and greater and eventually, after going on a number of exhibitions to bring back animals for other zoos, I felt the time was ripe to acquire my own. From my latest trip to West Africa, I had brought back a considerable collection of animals which were living, temporarily I assured her, in my sister’s suburban garden in Bournemouth. But after a number of unsuccessful attempts to convince local councils in various areas to support my plans, I began to investigate the possibility of starting my zoo on the island of Jersey in the English Channel. I was given an introduction to a man named Hugh Fraser who, I was told, was a broad-minded, kindly soul. He would show me around the island and point out suitable sites. So, I flew to Jersey and was met by Hugh Fraser who drove us to his family home, probably one of the most beautiful old houses on the island. There was a huge walled garden with lots of outbuildings all built in the beautiful local stone which was the colour of autumn leaves glowing in the sunshine. Turning to my wife, I said: “What a marvellous place for a zoo.” If my host had promptly fainted on the spot, I could not have blamed him. The thought of creating the average person’s idea of a zoo, with all the grey cement and iron bars, in such a lovely spot was horrible. To my astonishment, however, Hugh Fraser did not faint, but merely cocked an enquiring eyebrow at me and asked whether I really meant what I said. Slightly embarrassed, I replied that I had meant it, but added hastily that I realised that it was impossible. Hugh said he did not think it was as impossible as all that. He went on to explain that the house and grounds were too big for him to keep up as a private individual, and so he wanted to move to a smaller place in England. Would I care to consider renting the property for the purpose of establishing my zoo? I could not imagine more attractive surroundings for my purpose, and by the time lunch was over, the bargain had been sealed. The alarm displayed by all who knew me when this was announced can be imagined. The only exception to the general chorus of disapproval was my sister. Although she thought it a mad scheme, at least it would rid her back garden of the assorted jungle creatures that were beginning to put a great strain on her relationship with her neighbours. QUESTION The writer didn’t start a zoo in England because A nobody wanted to help him. B) he had too many animals. C) his sister was against it. D) he couldn’t get permission.