(Essay on drama of material, creation and perception
that is productivity of the language)
by Andrzej Solecki
Surrounded by his aides-de-camp Suvorov was looking at foreground of
Warsaw through his field glass when a small boy climbed the hill and
``Excuse me, general, sir'' he said ``what time is it?''
Suvorov took out his chronometre.
``Four o'clock'' he replied and patted the boy's blond head.
Washington was examining reluctantly the pastures around Yorktown when
a small girl walked up unexpectedly.
``Excuse me'' she smiled making a curtsy ``what's the time?''
``Half past two'' from the general. ``Orderly, where's this here kid from?''
Wallenstein was staring with deliberation at Dessauer Brücke when a small
boy asked him:
``Excuse me, what time is it?''
``Blast you'' barked the general at last ``I've already told you that it's two o'clock!''