Thuộc tính bán lẻ của kênh bán lẻ online: Nghiên cứu ở Việt Nam

old man who fished alone in a skiff in the Gulf Stream and he had gone eighty-four days now without taking a fish. In the first forty days a boy had been with him. But after forty days without a fish the boy’s parents had told him that the old man was now definitely and finally salao, which is the worst form of unlucky, and the boy had gone at their orders in another boat which caught three good fish the first week. It made the boy sad to see the old man come in each day with his skiff empty and he always went down to help him carry either the coiled lines or the gaff and harpoon and the sail that was furled around the mast. The sail was patched with flour sacks and, furled, it looked like the flag of permanent defeat. The old man was thin and gaunt with deep wrinkles in the back of his neck. The brown blotches of the benevolent skin cancer the sun brings from its [9] reflection on the tropic sea were on his cheeks. The blotches ran well down the sides of his face and his hands had the deep-creased scars from handling heavy fish on the cords. But none of these scars were fresh. They were as old as erosions in a fishless desert. Everything about him was old except his eyes and they were the same color as the sea and were cheerful and undefeated. “Santiago,” the boy said to him as they climbed the bank from

Nguyễn Thanh Minh. HCMCOUJS-Kinh tế và Quản trị kinh doanh, 19(2), …-…

e some money.” The old man had taught the boy to fish and the boy loved him. “No,” the old man said. “You’re with a lucky boat. Stay with them.” “But remember how you went eighty-seven days without fish and then we caught big ones every day for three weeks.” “I remember,” the old man said. “I know you did not leave me because you doubted.” “It was papa made me leave. I am a boy and I must obey him.” “I know,” the old man said. “It is quite normal.” “He hasn’t much faith.” [10] “No,” the old man said. “But we have. Haven’t we?” ‘Yes,” the boy said. “Can I offer you a beer on the Terrace and then we’ll take the stuff home.” “Why not?” the old man said. “Between fishermen.” They sat on the Terrace and many of the fishermen made fun of the old man and he was not angry. Others, of the older fishermen, looked at him and were sad. But they did not show it and they spoke politely about the current and the depths they had drifted their lines at and the steady good weather and of what they had seen. The successful fishermen of that day were already in and had butchered their marlin out and carried them laid full length across two planks, with two men Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea 2 staggering at the end of each plank, to the fish house where they waited for the ice truck to carry them to

to the shark factory on the other side of the cove where they were hoisted on a block and tackle, their livers removed, their fins cut off and their hides skinned out and their flesh cut into strips for salting. When the wind was in the east a smell came across the harbour from the shark factory; but today there [11] was only the faint edge of the odour because the wind had backed into the north and then dropped off and it was pleasant and sunny on the Terrace. “Santiago,” the boy said. “Yes,” the old man said. He was holding his glass and thinking of many years ago. “Can I go out to get sardines for you for tomorrow?” “No. Go and play baseball. I can still row and Rogelio will throw the net.” “I would like to go. If I cannot fish with you. I would like to serve in some way.” “You bought me a beer,” the old man said. “You are already a man.” “How old was I when you first took me in a boat?” “Five and you nearly were killed when I brought the fish in too green and he nearly tore the boat to pieces. Can you remember?” “I can remember the tail slapping and banging and the thwart breaking and the noise of the clubbing. I can remember you throwing me into the bow where the wet coiled lines were and feeling the whole boat shiver and the noise of you clubbing him like chopping a tree down and the sweet blood smell all ove

remember everything from when we first went together.” The old man looked at him with his sun-burned, confident loving eyes. “If you were my boy I’d take you out and gamble,” he said. “But you are your father’s and your mother’s and you are in a lucky boat.” “May I get the sardines? I know where I can get four baits too.” “I have mine left from today. I put them in salt in the box.” “Let me get four fresh ones.” “One,” the old man said. His hope and his confidence had never gone. But now they were freshening as when the breeze rises. “Two,” the boy said. “Two,” the old man agreed. “You didn’t steal them?” “I would,” the boy said. “But I bought these.” “Thank you,” the old man said. He was too simple to wonder when he had attained humility. But he [13] knew he had attained it and he knew it was not disgraceful and it carried no loss of true pride. “Tomorrow is going to be a good day with this current,” he said. “Where are you going?” the boy asked. “Far out to come in when the wind shifts. I want to be out before it is light.” “I’ll try to get him to work far out,” the boy said. “Then if you hook something truly big we can come to your aid.” “He does not like to work too far out.” “No,” the boy said. “But I will see something that he cannot see such as a bird working and get him to come out after dolphin.” “Are his eyes

Thuộc tính bán lẻ của kênh bán lẻ online: Nghiên cứu ở Việt Nam

ver went turtle-ing. That is what kills the eyes.” “But you went turtle-ing for years off the Mosquito Coast and your eyes are good.” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea 3 “I am a strange old man” “But are you strong enough now for a truly big fish?” “I think so. And there are many tricks.” [14] “Let us take the stuff home,” the boy said. “So I can get the cast net and go after the sardines.” They picked up the gear from the boat. The old man carried the mast on his shoulder and the boy carried the wooden boat with the coiled, hard-braided brown lines, the gaff and the harpoon with its shaft. The box with the baits was under the stern of the skiff along with the club that was used to subdue the big fish when they were brought alongside. No one would steal from the old man but it was better to take the sail and the heavy lines home as the dew was bad for them and, though he was quite sure no local people would steal from him, the old man thought that a gaff and a harpoon were needless temptations to leave in a boat. They walked up the road together to the old man’s shack and went in through its open door. The old man leaned the mast with its wrapped sail against the wall and the boy put the box and the other gear beside it. The mast was nearly as long as the one room of the shack. The shack was

o and in it there was a bed, a table, one chair, and a place on the dirt floor to cook with charcoal. On the brown walls of the flattened, overlapping leaves of the sturdy fibered [15] guano there was a picture in color of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and another of the Virgin of Cobre. These were relics of his wife. Once there had been a tinted photograph of his wife on the wall but he had taken it down because it made him too lonely to see it and it was on the shelf in the corner under his clean shirt. “What do you have to eat?” the boy asked. “A pot of yellow rice with fish. Do you want some?” “No. I will eat at home. Do you want me to make the fire?” “No. I will make it later on. Or I may eat the rice cold.” “May I take the cast net?” “Of course.” There was no cast net and the boy remembered when they had sold it. But they went through this fiction every day. There was no pot of yellow rice and fish and the boy knew this too. “Eighty-five is a lucky number,” the old man said. “How would you like to see me bring one in that dressed out over a thousand pounds?” “I’ll get the cast net and go for sardines. Will you sit in the sun in the doorway?” [16] “Yes. I have yesterday’s paper and I will read the baseball.” The boy did not know whether yesterday’s paper was a fiction too. But the old man brought it out from under the bed.

Retail attributes of online retailing channel: A study in Vietnam

have the sardines. I’ll keep yours and mine together on ice and we can share them in the morning. When I come back you can tell me about the baseball.” “The Yankees cannot lose.” “But I fear the Indians of Cleveland.” “Have faith in the Yankees my son. Think of the great DiMaggio.” “I fear both the Tigers of Detroit and the Indians of Cleveland.” “Be careful or you will fear even the Reds of Cincinnati and the White Sax of Chicago.” “You study it and tell me when I come back.” “Do you think we should buy a terminal of the lottery with an eighty-five? Tomorrow is the eighty-fifth day.” “We can do that,” the boy said. “But what about the eighty-seven of your great record?” [17] “It could not happen twice. Do you think you can find an eighty-five?” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea 4 “I can order one. “One sheet. That’s two dollars and a half. Who can we borrow that from?” “That’s easy. I can always borrow two dollars and a half.” “I think perhaps I can too. But I try not to borrow. First you borrow. Then you beg.” “Keep warm old man,” the boy said. “Remember we are in September.” “The month when the great fish come,” the old man said. “Anyone can be a fisherman in May.” “I go now for the sardines,” the boy said. When the boy came back the old man was asleep in the chair and the sun was down. T

ck of the chair and over the old man’s shoulders. They were strange shoulders, still powerful although very old, and the neck was still strong too and the creases did not show so much when the old man was asleep and his head fallen forward. His shirt had been patched so many times that it was like the sail and the patches were faded to many different shades by the sun. The [18] old man’s head was very old though and with his eyes closed there was no life in his face. The newspaper lay across his knees and the weight of his arm held it there in the evening breeze. He was barefooted. The boy left him there and when he came back the old man was still asleep. “Wake up old man,” the boy said and put his hand on one of the old man’s knees. The old man opened his eyes and for a moment he was coming back from a long way away. Then he smiled. “What have you got?” he asked. “Supper,” said the boy. “We’re going to have supper.” “I’m not very hungry.” “Come on and eat. You can’t fish and not eat.” “I have,” the old man said getting up and taking the newspaper and folding it. Then he started to fold the blanket. “Keep the blanket around you,” the boy said. “You’ll not fish without eating while I’m alive.” “Then live a long time and take care of yourself,” the old man said. “What are we eating?” “Black beans a

Nguyễn Thanh Minh1*

m in a two-decker metal container from the Terrace. The two sets of knives and forks and spoons were in his pocket with a paper napkin wrapped around each set. “Who gave this to you?” “Martin. The owner.” “I must thank him.” “I thanked him already,” the boy said. “You don’t need to thank him.” “I’ll give him the belly meat of a big fish,” the old man said. “Has he done this for us more than once?” “I think so.” “I must give him something more than the belly meat then. He is very thoughtful for us.” “He sent two beers.” “I like the beer in cans best.” “I know. But this is in bottles, Hatuey beer, and I take back the bottles.” “That’s very kind of you,” the old man said. “Should we eat?” “I’ve been asking you to,” the boy told him gently. “I have not wished to open the container until you were ready.” [20] “I’m ready now,” the old man said. “I only needed time to wash.” Where did you wash? the boy thought. The village water supply was two streets down the road. I must have water here for him, the boy thought, and soap and a good towel. Why am I so Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea 5 thoughtless? I must get him another shirt and a jacket for the winter and some sort of shoes and another blanket. “Your stew is excellent,” the old man said. “Tell me about the baseball,” the boy asked him. “In the American Leag

1

Trường Đại học Kinh tế Thành phố Hồ Chí Minh, Thành phố Hồ Chí Minh, Việt Nam
*Tác giả liên hệ, Email:

oday,” the boy told him. “That means nothing. The great DiMaggio is himself again.” “They have other men on the team.” “Naturally. But he makes the difference. In the other league, between Brooklyn and Philadelphia I must take Brooklyn. But then I think of Dick Sisler and those great drives In the old park.” “There was nothing ever like them. He hits the longest ball I have ever seen.” “Do you remember when he used to come to the Terrace?” [21] “I wanted to take him fishing but I was too timid to ask him. Then I asked you to ask him and you were too timid.” “I know. It was a great mistake. He might have gone with us. Then we would have that for all of our lives.” “I would like to take the great DiMaggio fishing,” the old man said. “They say his father was a fisherman. Maybe he was as poor as we are and would understand.” “The great Sisler’s father was never poor and he, the father, was playing in the Big Leagues when he was my age.” “When I was your age I was before the mast on a square rigged ship that ran to Africa and I have seen lions on the beaches in the evening.” “I know. You told me.” “Should we talk about Africa or about baseball?” “Baseball I think,” the boy said. “Tell me about the great John J. McGraw.” He said Jota for J. “He used to come to the Terrace sometimes too in the older days. But h

s mind was on horses as well as baseball. At least he carried lists of [22] horses at all times in his pocket and frequently spoke the names of horses on the telephone.” “He was a great manager,” the boy said. “My father thinks he was the greatest.” “Because he came here the most times,” the old man said. “If Durocher had continued to come here each year your father would think him the greatest manager.” “Who is the greatest manager, really, Luque or Mike Gonzalez?” “I think they are equal.” “And the best fisherman is you.” “No. I know others better.” “Que Va,” the boy said. “There are many good fishermen and some great ones. But there is only you.” “Thank you. You make me happy. I hope no fish will come along so great that he will prove us wrong.” “There is no such fish if you are still strong as you say.” “I may not be as strong as I think,” the old man said. “But I know many tricks and I have resolution.” “You ought to go to bed now so that you will be fresh in the morning. I will take the things back to the Terrace.” [23] “Good night then. I will wake you in the morning.” “You’re my alarm clock,” the boy said. Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea 6 “Age is my alarm clock,” the old man said. “Why do old men wake so early? Is it to have one longer day?” “I don’t know,” the boy said. “All I know is that you

’ll waken you in time.” “I do not like for him to waken me. It is as though I were inferior.” “I know.” “Sleep well old man.” The boy went out. They had eaten with no light on the table and the old man took off his trousers and went to bed in the dark. He rolled his trousers up to make a pillow, putting the newspaper inside them. He rolled himself in the blanket and slept on the other old newspapers that covered the springs of the bed. He was asleep in a short time and he dreamed of Africa when he was a boy and the long golden beaches and the white beaches, so white they hurt your eyes, and the high capes and the great brown mountains. He lived along that coast now every night and in his dreams he heard the surf roar and saw the native boats [24] come riding through it. He smelled the tar and oakum of the deck as he slept and he smelled the smell of Africa that the land breeze brought at morning. Usually when he smelled the land breeze he woke up and dressed to go and wake the boy. But tonight the smell of the land breeze came very early and he knew it was too early in his dream and went on dreaming to see the white peaks of the Islands rising from the sea and then he dreamed of the different harbours and roadsteads of the Canary Islands. He no longer dreamed of storms, nor of women, nor of grea

r of his wife. He only dreamed of places now and of the lions on the beach. They played like young cats in the dusk and he loved them as he loved the boy. He never dreamed about the boy. He simply woke, looked out the open door at the moon and unrolled his trousers and put them on. He urinated outside the shack and then went up the road to wake the boy. He was shivering with the morning cold. But he knew he would shiver himself warm and that soon he would be rowing. The door of the house where the boy lived was unlocked and he opened it and walked in quietly with his [25] bare feet. The boy was asleep on a cot in the first room and the old man could see him clearly with the light that came in from the dying moon. He took hold of one foot gently and held it until the boy woke and turned and looked at him. The old man nodded and the boy took his trousers from the chair by the bed and, sitting on the bed, pulled them on. The old man went out the door and the boy came after him. He was sleepy and the old man put his arm across his shoulders and said, “I am sorry.” “Qua Va,” the boy said. “It is what a man must do.” They walked down the road to the old man’s shack and all along the road, in the dark, barefoot men were moving, carrying the masts of their boats. When they reached the old man’

d gaff and the old man carried the mast with the furled sail on his shoulder. “Do you want coffee?” the boy asked. “We’ll put the gear in the boat and then get some.” They had coffee from condensed milk cans at an early morning place that served fishermen. “How did you sleep old man?” the boy asked. He [26] was waking up now although it was still hard for him to leave his sleep. “Very well, Manolin,” the old man said. “I feel confident today.” “So do I,” the boy said. “Now I must get your sardines and mine and your fresh baits. He brings our gear himself. He never wants anyone to carry anything.” “We’re different,” the old man said. “I let you carry things when you were five years old.”

THÔNG TIN

DOI:10.46223/HCMCOUJS.
econ.vi.19.2.2554.2024

Ngày nhận: 12/10/2022
Ngày nhận lại: 28/11/2022
Duyệt đăng: 05/12/2022
Từ khóa:
bán lẻ online; kênh bán lẻ
trực tuyến; sàn thương mại
điện tử; thuộc tính bán lẻ

Keywords:
online retailing; online
retailing channels;
e-commerce platforms;
retail attributes

TĨM TẮT

Nghiên cứu có mục đích là xác định các thuộc tính của kênh
bán lẻ trực tuyến là website thương mại điện tử và sàn thương mại
điện tử như là Shopee, Lazada, Tiki, Sendo, … ở Việt Nam.
Phương pháp nghiên cứu hỗn hợp với 18 người mua sắm được
phỏng vấn để khám phá các thuộc tính và 288 người mua sắm được
khảo sát. Phương pháp phân tích là phân tích nhân tố khám phá
(EFA) được sử dụng để nhóm các thuộc tính và phân tích nhân tố
khẳng định (CFA) được sử dụng để kiểm tra mơ hình. Nghiên cứu
xác định 04 thuộc tính bán lẻ trực tuyến là: Dịch vụ giao hàng, Tiện
lợi không gian và thời gian, Dễ dàng lựa chọn hàng hóa và Hàng
hóa.
ABSTRACT
This study discovers the retail attributes of online retailing
channels, which are e-commerce websites and e-commerce
platforms such as Shopee, Lazada, Tiki, Sendo, … in Vietnam. In
the mixed method research, a sample of 18 consumers was
interviewed to explore the retail attributes of online retailing
channels, and a sample size of 288 consumers was surveyed.
Exploratory Factor Analysis (EFA) is used to group the attributes
and Confirmatory Factor Analysis (CFA) is used to test the model.
The research has explored 04 retail attributes of online retailing
channels that are Delivery Service, Location, and Time
Convenience, Ease of Goods Selection, and Merchandise.

1. Giới thiệu
Các kênh bán lẻ ở Việt Nam bao gồm kênh bán lẻ truyền thống như chợ, tiệm tạp hóa, …
và kênh bán lẻ hiện đại (Nguyen, 2016). Trong kênh bán lẻ hiện đại thì có các kênh bán lẻ online
như sàn thương mại điện tử, ứng dụng mua sắm di động, diễn đàn, mạng xã hội, … Theo Cục
Thương Mại Điện Tử và Kinh Tế Số (2022) thì trong các kênh trực tuyến thì kênh mua sắm qua

website thương mại điện tử và sàn thương mại điện tử là kênh mua sắm có tỷ lệ mua sắm cao
nhất với 74%, sau đó là các diễn đàn/mạng xã hội với tỷ lệ mua sắm là 33% và các ứng dụng di
động khác với tỷ lệ là 31%.
Việc lựa chọn kênh mua sắm hay kênh bán lẻ nào sẽ tùy thuộc vào thuộc tính bán lẻ của
kênh mua sắm hay kênh bán lẻ đó có quan trọng hay khơng (Ghatak, Singhi, & Bansal, 2016;
Moharana & Pattanaik, 2018; Nguyen, 2014). Thuộc tính bán lẻ thường được nghiên cứu cho các
kênh bán lẻ vật lý như siêu thị (Nguyen, 2016), cửa hàng tiện lợi (Nguyen, Nguyen, & Le, 2019),
chợ truyền thống (Evangelista, Low, & Nguyen, 2019). Đối với các nghiên cứu thuộc tính bán lẻ
cho kênh bán lẻ trực tuyến thì chỉ có vài nghiên cứu cho các website bán hàng (Dholakia &
Zhao, 2010; Ghatak & ctg., 2016; Kotni, 2017) mà chưa có nghiên cứu cho kênh bán lẻ trực
tuyến là website thương mại điện tử/sàn thương mại điện tử mà website thương mại điện tử/sàn


old man who fished alone in a skiff in the Gulf Stream and he had gone eighty-four days now without taking a fish. In the first forty days a boy had been with him. But after forty days without a fish the boy’s parents had told him that the old man was now definitely and finally salao, which is the worst form of unlucky, and the boy had gone at their orders in another boat which caught three good fish the first week. It made the boy sad to see the old man come in each day with his skiff empty and he always went down to help him carry either the coiled lines or the gaff and harpoon and the sail that was furled around the mast. The sail was patched with flour sacks and, furled, it looked like the flag of permanent defeat. The old man was thin and gaunt with deep wrinkles in the back of his neck. The brown blotches of the benevolent skin cancer the sun brings from its [9] reflection on the tropic sea were on his cheeks. The blotches ran well down the sides of his face and his hands had the deep-creased scars from handling heavy fish on the cords. But none of these scars were fresh. They were as old as erosions in a fishless desert. Everything about him was old except his eyes and they were the same color as the sea and were cheerful and undefeated. “Santiago,” the boy said to him as they climbed the bank from

Nguyễn Thanh Minh. HCMCOUJS-Kinh tế và Quản trị kinh doanh, 19(2), …-…

e some money.” The old man had taught the boy to fish and the boy loved him. “No,” the old man said. “You’re with a lucky boat. Stay with them.” “But remember how you went eighty-seven days without fish and then we caught big ones every day for three weeks.” “I remember,” the old man said. “I know you did not leave me because you doubted.” “It was papa made me leave. I am a boy and I must obey him.” “I know,” the old man said. “It is quite normal.” “He hasn’t much faith.” [10] “No,” the old man said. “But we have. Haven’t we?” ‘Yes,” the boy said. “Can I offer you a beer on the Terrace and then we’ll take the stuff home.” “Why not?” the old man said. “Between fishermen.” They sat on the Terrace and many of the fishermen made fun of the old man and he was not angry. Others, of the older fishermen, looked at him and were sad. But they did not show it and they spoke politely about the current and the depths they had drifted their lines at and the steady good weather and of what they had seen. The successful fishermen of that day were already in and had butchered their marlin out and carried them laid full length across two planks, with two men Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea 2 staggering at the end of each plank, to the fish house where they waited for the ice truck to carry them to

to the shark factory on the other side of the cove where they were hoisted on a block and tackle, their livers removed, their fins cut off and their hides skinned out and their flesh cut into strips for salting. When the wind was in the east a smell came across the harbour from the shark factory; but today there [11] was only the faint edge of the odour because the wind had backed into the north and then dropped off and it was pleasant and sunny on the Terrace. “Santiago,” the boy said. “Yes,” the old man said. He was holding his glass and thinking of many years ago. “Can I go out to get sardines for you for tomorrow?” “No. Go and play baseball. I can still row and Rogelio will throw the net.” “I would like to go. If I cannot fish with you. I would like to serve in some way.” “You bought me a beer,” the old man said. “You are already a man.” “How old was I when you first took me in a boat?” “Five and you nearly were killed when I brought the fish in too green and he nearly tore the boat to pieces. Can you remember?” “I can remember the tail slapping and banging and the thwart breaking and the noise of the clubbing. I can remember you throwing me into the bow where the wet coiled lines were and feeling the whole boat shiver and the noise of you clubbing him like chopping a tree down and the sweet blood smell all ove

remember everything from when we first went together.” The old man looked at him with his sun-burned, confident loving eyes. “If you were my boy I’d take you out and gamble,” he said. “But you are your father’s and your mother’s and you are in a lucky boat.” “May I get the sardines? I know where I can get four baits too.” “I have mine left from today. I put them in salt in the box.” “Let me get four fresh ones.” “One,” the old man said. His hope and his confidence had never gone. But now they were freshening as when the breeze rises. “Two,” the boy said. “Two,” the old man agreed. “You didn’t steal them?” “I would,” the boy said. “But I bought these.” “Thank you,” the old man said. He was too simple to wonder when he had attained humility. But he [13] knew he had attained it and he knew it was not disgraceful and it carried no loss of true pride. “Tomorrow is going to be a good day with this current,” he said. “Where are you going?” the boy asked. “Far out to come in when the wind shifts. I want to be out before it is light.” “I’ll try to get him to work far out,” the boy said. “Then if you hook something truly big we can come to your aid.” “He does not like to work too far out.” “No,” the boy said. “But I will see something that he cannot see such as a bird working and get him to come out after dolphin.” “Are his eyes

thương mại điện tử là kênh bán lẻ rất quan trọng ở nhiều nước. Do thuộc tính bán lẻ cho kênh
bán lẻ trực tuyến là website thương mại điện tử/Sàn thương mại điện tử chưa được nghiên cứu
nên việc nghiên cứu này là cần thiết để có thể hiểu biết hơn về loại kênh bán lẻ mới này.

ver went turtle-ing. That is what kills the eyes.” “But you went turtle-ing for years off the Mosquito Coast and your eyes are good.” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea 3 “I am a strange old man” “But are you strong enough now for a truly big fish?” “I think so. And there are many tricks.” [14] “Let us take the stuff home,” the boy said. “So I can get the cast net and go after the sardines.” They picked up the gear from the boat. The old man carried the mast on his shoulder and the boy carried the wooden boat with the coiled, hard-braided brown lines, the gaff and the harpoon with its shaft. The box with the baits was under the stern of the skiff along with the club that was used to subdue the big fish when they were brought alongside. No one would steal from the old man but it was better to take the sail and the heavy lines home as the dew was bad for them and, though he was quite sure no local people would steal from him, the old man thought that a gaff and a harpoon were needless temptations to leave in a boat. They walked up the road together to the old man’s shack and went in through its open door. The old man leaned the mast with its wrapped sail against the wall and the boy put the box and the other gear beside it. The mast was nearly as long as the one room of the shack. The shack was

o and in it there was a bed, a table, one chair, and a place on the dirt floor to cook with charcoal. On the brown walls of the flattened, overlapping leaves of the sturdy fibered [15] guano there was a picture in color of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and another of the Virgin of Cobre. These were relics of his wife. Once there had been a tinted photograph of his wife on the wall but he had taken it down because it made him too lonely to see it and it was on the shelf in the corner under his clean shirt. “What do you have to eat?” the boy asked. “A pot of yellow rice with fish. Do you want some?” “No. I will eat at home. Do you want me to make the fire?” “No. I will make it later on. Or I may eat the rice cold.” “May I take the cast net?” “Of course.” There was no cast net and the boy remembered when they had sold it. But they went through this fiction every day. There was no pot of yellow rice and fish and the boy knew this too. “Eighty-five is a lucky number,” the old man said. “How would you like to see me bring one in that dressed out over a thousand pounds?” “I’ll get the cast net and go for sardines. Will you sit in the sun in the doorway?” [16] “Yes. I have yesterday’s paper and I will read the baseball.” The boy did not know whether yesterday’s paper was a fiction too. But the old man brought it out from under the bed.

have the sardines. I’ll keep yours and mine together on ice and we can share them in the morning. When I come back you can tell me about the baseball.” “The Yankees cannot lose.” “But I fear the Indians of Cleveland.” “Have faith in the Yankees my son. Think of the great DiMaggio.” “I fear both the Tigers of Detroit and the Indians of Cleveland.” “Be careful or you will fear even the Reds of Cincinnati and the White Sax of Chicago.” “You study it and tell me when I come back.” “Do you think we should buy a terminal of the lottery with an eighty-five? Tomorrow is the eighty-fifth day.” “We can do that,” the boy said. “But what about the eighty-seven of your great record?” [17] “It could not happen twice. Do you think you can find an eighty-five?” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea 4 “I can order one. “One sheet. That’s two dollars and a half. Who can we borrow that from?” “That’s easy. I can always borrow two dollars and a half.” “I think perhaps I can too. But I try not to borrow. First you borrow. Then you beg.” “Keep warm old man,” the boy said. “Remember we are in September.” “The month when the great fish come,” the old man said. “Anyone can be a fisherman in May.” “I go now for the sardines,” the boy said. When the boy came back the old man was asleep in the chair and the sun was down. T

ck of the chair and over the old man’s shoulders. They were strange shoulders, still powerful although very old, and the neck was still strong too and the creases did not show so much when the old man was asleep and his head fallen forward. His shirt had been patched so many times that it was like the sail and the patches were faded to many different shades by the sun. The [18] old man’s head was very old though and with his eyes closed there was no life in his face. The newspaper lay across his knees and the weight of his arm held it there in the evening breeze. He was barefooted. The boy left him there and when he came back the old man was still asleep. “Wake up old man,” the boy said and put his hand on one of the old man’s knees. The old man opened his eyes and for a moment he was coming back from a long way away. Then he smiled. “What have you got?” he asked. “Supper,” said the boy. “We’re going to have supper.” “I’m not very hungry.” “Come on and eat. You can’t fish and not eat.” “I have,” the old man said getting up and taking the newspaper and folding it. Then he started to fold the blanket. “Keep the blanket around you,” the boy said. “You’ll not fish without eating while I’m alive.” “Then live a long time and take care of yourself,” the old man said. “What are we eating?” “Black beans a

Mục tiêu của nghiên cứu bao gồm: (1) Xác định các thuộc tính của kênh bán lẻ trực tuyến
là website thương mại điện tử/Sàn thương mại điện tử tại Việt Nam. (2) So sánh thuộc tính bán
lẻ trực tuyến ở Việt Nam với các thuộc tính bán lẻ trực tuyến ở các nước khác. (3) Khuyến nghị
cho các nhà bán lẻ trực tuyến.

m in a two-decker metal container from the Terrace. The two sets of knives and forks and spoons were in his pocket with a paper napkin wrapped around each set. “Who gave this to you?” “Martin. The owner.” “I must thank him.” “I thanked him already,” the boy said. “You don’t need to thank him.” “I’ll give him the belly meat of a big fish,” the old man said. “Has he done this for us more than once?” “I think so.” “I must give him something more than the belly meat then. He is very thoughtful for us.” “He sent two beers.” “I like the beer in cans best.” “I know. But this is in bottles, Hatuey beer, and I take back the bottles.” “That’s very kind of you,” the old man said. “Should we eat?” “I’ve been asking you to,” the boy told him gently. “I have not wished to open the container until you were ready.” [20] “I’m ready now,” the old man said. “I only needed time to wash.” Where did you wash? the boy thought. The village water supply was two streets down the road. I must have water here for him, the boy thought, and soap and a good towel. Why am I so Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea 5 thoughtless? I must get him another shirt and a jacket for the winter and some sort of shoes and another blanket. “Your stew is excellent,” the old man said. “Tell me about the baseball,” the boy asked him. “In the American Leag

oday,” the boy told him. “That means nothing. The great DiMaggio is himself again.” “They have other men on the team.” “Naturally. But he makes the difference. In the other league, between Brooklyn and Philadelphia I must take Brooklyn. But then I think of Dick Sisler and those great drives In the old park.” “There was nothing ever like them. He hits the longest ball I have ever seen.” “Do you remember when he used to come to the Terrace?” [21] “I wanted to take him fishing but I was too timid to ask him. Then I asked you to ask him and you were too timid.” “I know. It was a great mistake. He might have gone with us. Then we would have that for all of our lives.” “I would like to take the great DiMaggio fishing,” the old man said. “They say his father was a fisherman. Maybe he was as poor as we are and would understand.” “The great Sisler’s father was never poor and he, the father, was playing in the Big Leagues when he was my age.” “When I was your age I was before the mast on a square rigged ship that ran to Africa and I have seen lions on the beaches in the evening.” “I know. You told me.” “Should we talk about Africa or about baseball?” “Baseball I think,” the boy said. “Tell me about the great John J. McGraw.” He said Jota for J. “He used to come to the Terrace sometimes too in the older days. But h

s mind was on horses as well as baseball. At least he carried lists of [22] horses at all times in his pocket and frequently spoke the names of horses on the telephone.” “He was a great manager,” the boy said. “My father thinks he was the greatest.” “Because he came here the most times,” the old man said. “If Durocher had continued to come here each year your father would think him the greatest manager.” “Who is the greatest manager, really, Luque or Mike Gonzalez?” “I think they are equal.” “And the best fisherman is you.” “No. I know others better.” “Que Va,” the boy said. “There are many good fishermen and some great ones. But there is only you.” “Thank you. You make me happy. I hope no fish will come along so great that he will prove us wrong.” “There is no such fish if you are still strong as you say.” “I may not be as strong as I think,” the old man said. “But I know many tricks and I have resolution.” “You ought to go to bed now so that you will be fresh in the morning. I will take the things back to the Terrace.” [23] “Good night then. I will wake you in the morning.” “You’re my alarm clock,” the boy said. Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea 6 “Age is my alarm clock,” the old man said. “Why do old men wake so early? Is it to have one longer day?” “I don’t know,” the boy said. “All I know is that you

’ll waken you in time.” “I do not like for him to waken me. It is as though I were inferior.” “I know.” “Sleep well old man.” The boy went out. They had eaten with no light on the table and the old man took off his trousers and went to bed in the dark. He rolled his trousers up to make a pillow, putting the newspaper inside them. He rolled himself in the blanket and slept on the other old newspapers that covered the springs of the bed. He was asleep in a short time and he dreamed of Africa when he was a boy and the long golden beaches and the white beaches, so white they hurt your eyes, and the high capes and the great brown mountains. He lived along that coast now every night and in his dreams he heard the surf roar and saw the native boats [24] come riding through it. He smelled the tar and oakum of the deck as he slept and he smelled the smell of Africa that the land breeze brought at morning. Usually when he smelled the land breeze he woke up and dressed to go and wake the boy. But tonight the smell of the land breeze came very early and he knew it was too early in his dream and went on dreaming to see the white peaks of the Islands rising from the sea and then he dreamed of the different harbours and roadsteads of the Canary Islands. He no longer dreamed of storms, nor of women, nor of grea

r of his wife. He only dreamed of places now and of the lions on the beach. They played like young cats in the dusk and he loved them as he loved the boy. He never dreamed about the boy. He simply woke, looked out the open door at the moon and unrolled his trousers and put them on. He urinated outside the shack and then went up the road to wake the boy. He was shivering with the morning cold. But he knew he would shiver himself warm and that soon he would be rowing. The door of the house where the boy lived was unlocked and he opened it and walked in quietly with his [25] bare feet. The boy was asleep on a cot in the first room and the old man could see him clearly with the light that came in from the dying moon. He took hold of one foot gently and held it until the boy woke and turned and looked at him. The old man nodded and the boy took his trousers from the chair by the bed and, sitting on the bed, pulled them on. The old man went out the door and the boy came after him. He was sleepy and the old man put his arm across his shoulders and said, “I am sorry.” “Qua Va,” the boy said. “It is what a man must do.” They walked down the road to the old man’s shack and all along the road, in the dark, barefoot men were moving, carrying the masts of their boats. When they reached the old man’

2. Cơ sở lý thuyết

d gaff and the old man carried the mast with the furled sail on his shoulder. “Do you want coffee?” the boy asked. “We’ll put the gear in the boat and then get some.” They had coffee from condensed milk cans at an early morning place that served fishermen. “How did you sleep old man?” the boy asked. He [26] was waking up now although it was still hard for him to leave his sleep. “Very well, Manolin,” the old man said. “I feel confident today.” “So do I,” the boy said. “Now I must get your sardines and mine and your fresh baits. He brings our gear himself. He never wants anyone to carry anything.” “We’re different,” the old man said. “I let you carry things when you were five years old.”

2.1. Kênh bán lẻ trực tuyến
Kênh bán lẻ trực tuyến là một hình thức bán lẻ trực tiếp, như là người tiêu dùng “sử dụng
một thiết bị hỗ trợ Internet để đặt hàng các sản phẩm hoặc dịch vụ thơng qua Internet và món
hàng đó được giao, có thể bằng hình thức kỹ thuật số hoặc vật lý, đến một địa điểm ưa thích”
(Palmatier, Sivadas, Stern, & El-Ansary, 2020, tr. 11). Như vậy, kênh mua sắm trực tuyến là
kênh bán lẻ trực tuyến vì các kênh như trang web thương mại điện tử/sàn thương mại điện tử , …

được sử dụng để bán sản phẩm trực tiếp cho người mua sắm. Kênh bán lẻ qua trang web thương
mại điện tử/sàn thương mại điện tử có tỷ lệ mua sắm cao nhất là 74% tại Việt Nam.
2.2. Sàn giao dịch thương mại điện tử
“Sàn giao dịch thương mại điện tử là website thương mại điện tử cho phép các thương
nhân, tổ chức, cá nhân không phải chủ sở hữu website có thể tiến hành một phần hoặc tồn bộ
quy trình mua bán hàng hóa, dịch vụ trên đó” (Bộ Công Thương, 2013, tr. 3).
Các nhà bán lẻ không những bán các món hàng trên các website mà cịn thiết kế các ứng
dụng mua sắm để tăng sự thuận tiện cho người mua sắm. Số lượng đơn hàng của các sàn thương
mại điện tử như Shopee, Lazada, … qua các ứng dụng chiếm tới hơn 80% tổng số lượng đơn
hàng (Huong Loan, 2020). Các nghiên cứu cho kênh bán lẻ sử dụng ứng dụng mua sắm còn rất
hạn chế. Do vậy, cả hai hình thức mua sắm là mua sắm qua website và mua sắm qua ứng dụng sẽ
được nghiên cứu.
Mặc dù người mua sắm đang chuyển từ việc mua sắm trên các kênh truyền thống sang
các kênh trực tuyến như sàn thương mại điện tử ngày càng thường xuyên hơn nhưng không phải
website thương mại điện tử/sàn thương mại điện tử nào cũng thành cơng và có lợi nhuận. Các
website thương mại điện tử/sàn thương mại điện tử phải ngừng hoạt động đó là Vuivui.com
ngừng hoạt động vào tháng 11/2018. Sàn thương mại điện tử Lingo đóng cửa vào tháng 08/2016.
Các sàn thương mại điện tử lớn như Shopee, ... vẫn chưa có được lợi nhuận như mong muốn.
Các lý do có thể là nhà bán lẻ trực tuyến chưa nhận biết đầy đủ được các thuộc tính bán lẻ trực
tuyến từ đó dẫn tới hiệu quả của bán lẻ trực tuyến chưa được như mong đợi.
2.3. Thuộc tính bán lẻ
“Thuộc tính cửa hàng có thể được định nghĩa là tổng hợp của tất cả các thuộc tính của
một cửa hàng được người mua hàng cảm nhận thông qua trải nghiệm của họ về cửa hàng đó”
(Nguyen & Nguyen, 2003, tr. 230). Dựa trên định nghĩa này, thuộc tính của kênh bán lẻ trực
tuyến là thuộc tính của kênh bán lẻ trực tuyến được người mua hàng cảm nhận thông qua trải
nghiệm của họ về kênh bán lẻ trực tuyến đó. Trong trường hợp là kênh bán lẻ trực tuyến qua
website thương mại điện tử/sàn thương mại điện tử, thì thuộc tính của kênh bán lẻ trực tuyến qua
website thương mại điện tử/sàn thương mại điện tử là thuộc tính của website thương mại điện
tử/sàn thương mại điện tử được người mua hàng cảm nhận thông qua trải nghiệm của họ về
website thương mại điện tử/sàn thương mại điện tử.

2.4. Các nghiên cứu của kênh bán lẻ online
Kotni (2017) đã đề xuất sáu thuộc tính của trang web bán hàng là: tiện lợi giao dịch, sự


old man who fished alone in a skiff in the Gulf Stream and he had gone eighty-four days now without taking a fish. In the first forty days a boy had been with him. But after forty days without a fish the boy’s parents had told him that the old man was now definitely and finally salao, which is the worst form of unlucky, and the boy had gone at their orders in another boat which caught three good fish the first week. It made the boy sad to see the old man come in each day with his skiff empty and he always went down to help him carry either the coiled lines or the gaff and harpoon and the sail that was furled around the mast. The sail was patched with flour sacks and, furled, it looked like the flag of permanent defeat. The old man was thin and gaunt with deep wrinkles in the back of his neck. The brown blotches of the benevolent skin cancer the sun brings from its [9] reflection on the tropic sea were on his cheeks. The blotches ran well down the sides of his face and his hands had the deep-creased scars from handling heavy fish on the cords. But none of these scars were fresh. They were as old as erosions in a fishless desert. Everything about him was old except his eyes and they were the same color as the sea and were cheerful and undefeated. “Santiago,” the boy said to him as they climbed the bank from

Nguyễn Thanh Minh. HCMCOUJS-Kinh tế và Quản trị kinh doanh, 19(2), …-…

e some money.” The old man had taught the boy to fish and the boy loved him. “No,” the old man said. “You’re with a lucky boat. Stay with them.” “But remember how you went eighty-seven days without fish and then we caught big ones every day for three weeks.” “I remember,” the old man said. “I know you did not leave me because you doubted.” “It was papa made me leave. I am a boy and I must obey him.” “I know,” the old man said. “It is quite normal.” “He hasn’t much faith.” [10] “No,” the old man said. “But we have. Haven’t we?” ‘Yes,” the boy said. “Can I offer you a beer on the Terrace and then we’ll take the stuff home.” “Why not?” the old man said. “Between fishermen.” They sat on the Terrace and many of the fishermen made fun of the old man and he was not angry. Others, of the older fishermen, looked at him and were sad. But they did not show it and they spoke politely about the current and the depths they had drifted their lines at and the steady good weather and of what they had seen. The successful fishermen of that day were already in and had butchered their marlin out and carried them laid full length across two planks, with two men Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea 2 staggering at the end of each plank, to the fish house where they waited for the ice truck to carry them to

to the shark factory on the other side of the cove where they were hoisted on a block and tackle, their livers removed, their fins cut off and their hides skinned out and their flesh cut into strips for salting. When the wind was in the east a smell came across the harbour from the shark factory; but today there [11] was only the faint edge of the odour because the wind had backed into the north and then dropped off and it was pleasant and sunny on the Terrace. “Santiago,” the boy said. “Yes,” the old man said. He was holding his glass and thinking of many years ago. “Can I go out to get sardines for you for tomorrow?” “No. Go and play baseball. I can still row and Rogelio will throw the net.” “I would like to go. If I cannot fish with you. I would like to serve in some way.” “You bought me a beer,” the old man said. “You are already a man.” “How old was I when you first took me in a boat?” “Five and you nearly were killed when I brought the fish in too green and he nearly tore the boat to pieces. Can you remember?” “I can remember the tail slapping and banging and the thwart breaking and the noise of the clubbing. I can remember you throwing me into the bow where the wet coiled lines were and feeling the whole boat shiver and the noise of you clubbing him like chopping a tree down and the sweet blood smell all ove

remember everything from when we first went together.” The old man looked at him with his sun-burned, confident loving eyes. “If you were my boy I’d take you out and gamble,” he said. “But you are your father’s and your mother’s and you are in a lucky boat.” “May I get the sardines? I know where I can get four baits too.” “I have mine left from today. I put them in salt in the box.” “Let me get four fresh ones.” “One,” the old man said. His hope and his confidence had never gone. But now they were freshening as when the breeze rises. “Two,” the boy said. “Two,” the old man agreed. “You didn’t steal them?” “I would,” the boy said. “But I bought these.” “Thank you,” the old man said. He was too simple to wonder when he had attained humility. But he [13] knew he had attained it and he knew it was not disgraceful and it carried no loss of true pride. “Tomorrow is going to be a good day with this current,” he said. “Where are you going?” the boy asked. “Far out to come in when the wind shifts. I want to be out before it is light.” “I’ll try to get him to work far out,” the boy said. “Then if you hook something truly big we can come to your aid.” “He does not like to work too far out.” “No,” the boy said. “But I will see something that he cannot see such as a bird working and get him to come out after dolphin.” “Are his eyes

sẵn sàng, tính bảo mật, thiết kế của website, trải nghiệm mua sắm và thời gian thanh toán.
Ghatak và cộng sự (2016) đã đề xuất năm thuộc tính bán lẻ trực tuyến là khuyến mãi, chính sách
đổi trả hàng, lựa chọn sản phẩm, giá cả và so sánh giá, sự riêng tư/bảo mật. Chung và Shin
(2008) đã đề xuất một số thuộc tính bán lẻ trực tuyến là mua sắm tiện lợi, lựa chọn hàng hóa,
thơng tin, giá cả và sự tùy biến của các website mua sắm ở Hàn Quốc. Sebastianelli và Tamimi
(2018) đã đề xuất các thuộc tính bán lẻ trực tuyến là danh tiếng của nhà bán lẻ và các review.
Sebastianelli và Tamimi (2013) đã xác định năm thuộc tính là danh tiếng của nhà bán lẻ, khả
năng sử dụng trang web, bảo mật, giao hàng và hỗ trợ khách hàng. Dholakia và Zhao (2010) đã
đề xuất thuộc tính là sự dễ tìm, sự lựa chọn, sự rõ ràng của thơng tin, phí vận chuyển, nhiều lựa
chọn giao hàng, các khoản phí được nêu rõ ràng trước khi gửi đơn đặt hàng, hàng hóa sẵn sàng,
theo dõi đơn hàng, giao hàng đúng giờ, hàng hóa đáp ứng mong đợi.

ver went turtle-ing. That is what kills the eyes.” “But you went turtle-ing for years off the Mosquito Coast and your eyes are good.” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea 3 “I am a strange old man” “But are you strong enough now for a truly big fish?” “I think so. And there are many tricks.” [14] “Let us take the stuff home,” the boy said. “So I can get the cast net and go after the sardines.” They picked up the gear from the boat. The old man carried the mast on his shoulder and the boy carried the wooden boat with the coiled, hard-braided brown lines, the gaff and the harpoon with its shaft. The box with the baits was under the stern of the skiff along with the club that was used to subdue the big fish when they were brought alongside. No one would steal from the old man but it was better to take the sail and the heavy lines home as the dew was bad for them and, though he was quite sure no local people would steal from him, the old man thought that a gaff and a harpoon were needless temptations to leave in a boat. They walked up the road together to the old man’s shack and went in through its open door. The old man leaned the mast with its wrapped sail against the wall and the boy put the box and the other gear beside it. The mast was nearly as long as the one room of the shack. The shack was

o and in it there was a bed, a table, one chair, and a place on the dirt floor to cook with charcoal. On the brown walls of the flattened, overlapping leaves of the sturdy fibered [15] guano there was a picture in color of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and another of the Virgin of Cobre. These were relics of his wife. Once there had been a tinted photograph of his wife on the wall but he had taken it down because it made him too lonely to see it and it was on the shelf in the corner under his clean shirt. “What do you have to eat?” the boy asked. “A pot of yellow rice with fish. Do you want some?” “No. I will eat at home. Do you want me to make the fire?” “No. I will make it later on. Or I may eat the rice cold.” “May I take the cast net?” “Of course.” There was no cast net and the boy remembered when they had sold it. But they went through this fiction every day. There was no pot of yellow rice and fish and the boy knew this too. “Eighty-five is a lucky number,” the old man said. “How would you like to see me bring one in that dressed out over a thousand pounds?” “I’ll get the cast net and go for sardines. Will you sit in the sun in the doorway?” [16] “Yes. I have yesterday’s paper and I will read the baseball.” The boy did not know whether yesterday’s paper was a fiction too. But the old man brought it out from under the bed.

have the sardines. I’ll keep yours and mine together on ice and we can share them in the morning. When I come back you can tell me about the baseball.” “The Yankees cannot lose.” “But I fear the Indians of Cleveland.” “Have faith in the Yankees my son. Think of the great DiMaggio.” “I fear both the Tigers of Detroit and the Indians of Cleveland.” “Be careful or you will fear even the Reds of Cincinnati and the White Sax of Chicago.” “You study it and tell me when I come back.” “Do you think we should buy a terminal of the lottery with an eighty-five? Tomorrow is the eighty-fifth day.” “We can do that,” the boy said. “But what about the eighty-seven of your great record?” [17] “It could not happen twice. Do you think you can find an eighty-five?” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea 4 “I can order one. “One sheet. That’s two dollars and a half. Who can we borrow that from?” “That’s easy. I can always borrow two dollars and a half.” “I think perhaps I can too. But I try not to borrow. First you borrow. Then you beg.” “Keep warm old man,” the boy said. “Remember we are in September.” “The month when the great fish come,” the old man said. “Anyone can be a fisherman in May.” “I go now for the sardines,” the boy said. When the boy came back the old man was asleep in the chair and the sun was down. T

ck of the chair and over the old man’s shoulders. They were strange shoulders, still powerful although very old, and the neck was still strong too and the creases did not show so much when the old man was asleep and his head fallen forward. His shirt had been patched so many times that it was like the sail and the patches were faded to many different shades by the sun. The [18] old man’s head was very old though and with his eyes closed there was no life in his face. The newspaper lay across his knees and the weight of his arm held it there in the evening breeze. He was barefooted. The boy left him there and when he came back the old man was still asleep. “Wake up old man,” the boy said and put his hand on one of the old man’s knees. The old man opened his eyes and for a moment he was coming back from a long way away. Then he smiled. “What have you got?” he asked. “Supper,” said the boy. “We’re going to have supper.” “I’m not very hungry.” “Come on and eat. You can’t fish and not eat.” “I have,” the old man said getting up and taking the newspaper and folding it. Then he started to fold the blanket. “Keep the blanket around you,” the boy said. “You’ll not fish without eating while I’m alive.” “Then live a long time and take care of yourself,” the old man said. “What are we eating?” “Black beans a

m in a two-decker metal container from the Terrace. The two sets of knives and forks and spoons were in his pocket with a paper napkin wrapped around each set. “Who gave this to you?” “Martin. The owner.” “I must thank him.” “I thanked him already,” the boy said. “You don’t need to thank him.” “I’ll give him the belly meat of a big fish,” the old man said. “Has he done this for us more than once?” “I think so.” “I must give him something more than the belly meat then. He is very thoughtful for us.” “He sent two beers.” “I like the beer in cans best.” “I know. But this is in bottles, Hatuey beer, and I take back the bottles.” “That’s very kind of you,” the old man said. “Should we eat?” “I’ve been asking you to,” the boy told him gently. “I have not wished to open the container until you were ready.” [20] “I’m ready now,” the old man said. “I only needed time to wash.” Where did you wash? the boy thought. The village water supply was two streets down the road. I must have water here for him, the boy thought, and soap and a good towel. Why am I so Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea 5 thoughtless? I must get him another shirt and a jacket for the winter and some sort of shoes and another blanket. “Your stew is excellent,” the old man said. “Tell me about the baseball,” the boy asked him. “In the American Leag

oday,” the boy told him. “That means nothing. The great DiMaggio is himself again.” “They have other men on the team.” “Naturally. But he makes the difference. In the other league, between Brooklyn and Philadelphia I must take Brooklyn. But then I think of Dick Sisler and those great drives In the old park.” “There was nothing ever like them. He hits the longest ball I have ever seen.” “Do you remember when he used to come to the Terrace?” [21] “I wanted to take him fishing but I was too timid to ask him. Then I asked you to ask him and you were too timid.” “I know. It was a great mistake. He might have gone with us. Then we would have that for all of our lives.” “I would like to take the great DiMaggio fishing,” the old man said. “They say his father was a fisherman. Maybe he was as poor as we are and would understand.” “The great Sisler’s father was never poor and he, the father, was playing in the Big Leagues when he was my age.” “When I was your age I was before the mast on a square rigged ship that ran to Africa and I have seen lions on the beaches in the evening.” “I know. You told me.” “Should we talk about Africa or about baseball?” “Baseball I think,” the boy said. “Tell me about the great John J. McGraw.” He said Jota for J. “He used to come to the Terrace sometimes too in the older days. But h

s mind was on horses as well as baseball. At least he carried lists of [22] horses at all times in his pocket and frequently spoke the names of horses on the telephone.” “He was a great manager,” the boy said. “My father thinks he was the greatest.” “Because he came here the most times,” the old man said. “If Durocher had continued to come here each year your father would think him the greatest manager.” “Who is the greatest manager, really, Luque or Mike Gonzalez?” “I think they are equal.” “And the best fisherman is you.” “No. I know others better.” “Que Va,” the boy said. “There are many good fishermen and some great ones. But there is only you.” “Thank you. You make me happy. I hope no fish will come along so great that he will prove us wrong.” “There is no such fish if you are still strong as you say.” “I may not be as strong as I think,” the old man said. “But I know many tricks and I have resolution.” “You ought to go to bed now so that you will be fresh in the morning. I will take the things back to the Terrace.” [23] “Good night then. I will wake you in the morning.” “You’re my alarm clock,” the boy said. Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea 6 “Age is my alarm clock,” the old man said. “Why do old men wake so early? Is it to have one longer day?” “I don’t know,” the boy said. “All I know is that you

’ll waken you in time.” “I do not like for him to waken me. It is as though I were inferior.” “I know.” “Sleep well old man.” The boy went out. They had eaten with no light on the table and the old man took off his trousers and went to bed in the dark. He rolled his trousers up to make a pillow, putting the newspaper inside them. He rolled himself in the blanket and slept on the other old newspapers that covered the springs of the bed. He was asleep in a short time and he dreamed of Africa when he was a boy and the long golden beaches and the white beaches, so white they hurt your eyes, and the high capes and the great brown mountains. He lived along that coast now every night and in his dreams he heard the surf roar and saw the native boats [24] come riding through it. He smelled the tar and oakum of the deck as he slept and he smelled the smell of Africa that the land breeze brought at morning. Usually when he smelled the land breeze he woke up and dressed to go and wake the boy. But tonight the smell of the land breeze came very early and he knew it was too early in his dream and went on dreaming to see the white peaks of the Islands rising from the sea and then he dreamed of the different harbours and roadsteads of the Canary Islands. He no longer dreamed of storms, nor of women, nor of grea

r of his wife. He only dreamed of places now and of the lions on the beach. They played like young cats in the dusk and he loved them as he loved the boy. He never dreamed about the boy. He simply woke, looked out the open door at the moon and unrolled his trousers and put them on. He urinated outside the shack and then went up the road to wake the boy. He was shivering with the morning cold. But he knew he would shiver himself warm and that soon he would be rowing. The door of the house where the boy lived was unlocked and he opened it and walked in quietly with his [25] bare feet. The boy was asleep on a cot in the first room and the old man could see him clearly with the light that came in from the dying moon. He took hold of one foot gently and held it until the boy woke and turned and looked at him. The old man nodded and the boy took his trousers from the chair by the bed and, sitting on the bed, pulled them on. The old man went out the door and the boy came after him. He was sleepy and the old man put his arm across his shoulders and said, “I am sorry.” “Qua Va,” the boy said. “It is what a man must do.” They walked down the road to the old man’s shack and all along the road, in the dark, barefoot men were moving, carrying the masts of their boats. When they reached the old man’

d gaff and the old man carried the mast with the furled sail on his shoulder. “Do you want coffee?” the boy asked. “We’ll put the gear in the boat and then get some.” They had coffee from condensed milk cans at an early morning place that served fishermen. “How did you sleep old man?” the boy asked. He [26] was waking up now although it was still hard for him to leave his sleep. “Very well, Manolin,” the old man said. “I feel confident today.” “So do I,” the boy said. “Now I must get your sardines and mine and your fresh baits. He brings our gear himself. He never wants anyone to carry anything.” “We’re different,” the old man said. “I let you carry things when you were five years old.”

Từ những nghiên cứu trên, một vài ý kiến được đề xuất như sau. Thứ nhất, các thuộc tính
bán lẻ được đề xuất là không giống nhau ở các nước, đây có thể là do sự khơng giống nhau về
văn hóa tác động tới nhận thức các thuộc tính bán lẻ trực tuyến (Ghatak & ctg., 2016). Thứ hai,
“các nghiên cứu thuộc tính bán lẻ thường được nghiên cứu ở các nước phát triển. còn các nghiên
cứu ở các thị trường mới nổi và đang phát triển thì rất ít” (Ghatak & ctg., 2016, tr. 2). Thứ ba,
các nghiên cứu chỉ tập trung các thuộc tính của trang web bán hàng của nhà bán lẻ (B2C) khi họ
bán lại các mặt hàng mà họ đã mua. Các nghiên cứu trước chưa nghiên cứu về sàn thương mại
điện tử (kết hợp B2C và C2C), … Thứ tư, các nghiên cứu hầu như chỉ tìm hiểu kênh bán lẻ trực
tuyến bán hàng qua các nền tảng website mà chưa có nghiên cứu cho các ứng dụng mua hàng
trên các nền tảng cơng nghệ, … Thứ năm, các nghiên cứu chưa tìm hiểu một cách hệ thống các
thuộc tính bán lẻ trực tuyến mà chỉ chọn lựa một số thuộc tính bán lẻ được điều chỉnh từ thuộc
tính của các kênh bán lẻ vật lý cho kênh bán lẻ trực tuyến.
2.5. Giả thuyết nghiên cứu
2.5.1. Dịch vụ giao hàng/Giao hàng tiện lợi

Dịch vụ giao hàng/Giao hàng tiện lợi được xem là thuộc tính quan trọng của kênh bán lẻ
trực tuyến vì người mua có thể lựa chọn nơi để nhận món hàng muốn mua. Trong nghiên cứu
trước đây, thuộc tính này chưa được nghiên cứu làm rõ cho kênh bán lẻ trực tuyến qua website
thương mại điện tử/sàn thương mại điện tử. Sebastianelli và Tamimi (2013) có đề xuất thuộc tính
bán lẻ trực tuyến là giao hàng trong một nghiên cứu ở Mỹ. Tuy nhiên, ý nghĩa của thuộc tính
giao hàng này là có thể kiểm tra vị trí của món hàng khi vận chuyển, khác ý nghĩa với Dịch vụ
giao hàng/Giao hàng tiện lợi. Do đó, trong thị trường Việt Nam, giả thuyết được đề xuất:
H1: Giao hàng tiện lợi là thuộc tính của kênh bán lẻ trực tuyến trên website thương mại
điện tử/sàn thương mại điện tử
2.5.2. Tiện lợi không gian và thời gian
Thuộc tính Tiện lợi khơng gian và tiện lợi thời gian đã được nghiên cứu nhiều nhưng chỉ
nghiên cứu cho các kênh bán hàng vật lý như siêu thị (Nguyen, 2016), cửa hàng tiện lợi (Nguyen
& ctg., 2019), chợ truyền thống (Evangelista & ctg., 2019). Đối với các kênh bán lẻ online thì
thuộc tính này chưa được nghiên cứu. Khi sử dụng các kênh bán lẻ vật lý thì người mua phải di
chuyển tới nơi mua sắm để mua hàng do đó sẽ tốn thời gian di chuyển. Cịn đối với kênh bán lẻ
trực tuyến thì người mua khơng cần di chuyển nhưng vẫn nhận được món hàng muốn mua từ
người giao hàng. Ngoài ra, một cách tương tự, họ có thể đặt hàng bất kỳ nơi nào họ muốn.
Đối với thuộc tính Tiện lợi thời gian là sự tiện lợi khi người mua có thể mua sắm vào thời
gian họ muốn. Đối với kênh vật lý, người mua phải chờ đợi các siêu thị, tiệm tạp hóa mở cửa để
mua hàng hoặc khi siêu thị, cửa hàng đóng cửa thì họ khơng mua sắm được. Cịn khi mua sắm
online thì người mua sắm có thể mua sắm bất cứ khi nào. Trong nghiên cứu về kênh bán lẻ trực
tuyến, Chung và Shin (2008) có nghiên cứu về thuộc tính tiện lợi mua sắm nhưng thuộc tính lại
là ít tốn thời gian khi mua sắm trên website. Như vậy, thuộc tính Tiện lợi khơng gian và tiện lợi


old man who fished alone in a skiff in the Gulf Stream and he had gone eighty-four days now without taking a fish. In the first forty days a boy had been with him. But after forty days without a fish the boy’s parents had told him that the old man was now definitely and finally salao, which is the worst form of unlucky, and the boy had gone at their orders in another boat which caught three good fish the first week. It made the boy sad to see the old man come in each day with his skiff empty and he always went down to help him carry either the coiled lines or the gaff and harpoon and the sail that was furled around the mast. The sail was patched with flour sacks and, furled, it looked like the flag of permanent defeat. The old man was thin and gaunt with deep wrinkles in the back of his neck. The brown blotches of the benevolent skin cancer the sun brings from its [9] reflection on the tropic sea were on his cheeks. The blotches ran well down the sides of his face and his hands had the deep-creased scars from handling heavy fish on the cords. But none of these scars were fresh. They were as old as erosions in a fishless desert. Everything about him was old except his eyes and they were the same color as the sea and were cheerful and undefeated. “Santiago,” the boy said to him as they climbed the bank from

Nguyễn Thanh Minh. HCMCOUJS-Kinh tế và Quản trị kinh doanh, 19(2), …-…

e some money.” The old man had taught the boy to fish and the boy loved him. “No,” the old man said. “You’re with a lucky boat. Stay with them.” “But remember how you went eighty-seven days without fish and then we caught big ones every day for three weeks.” “I remember,” the old man said. “I know you did not leave me because you doubted.” “It was papa made me leave. I am a boy and I must obey him.” “I know,” the old man said. “It is quite normal.” “He hasn’t much faith.” [10] “No,” the old man said. “But we have. Haven’t we?” ‘Yes,” the boy said. “Can I offer you a beer on the Terrace and then we’ll take the stuff home.” “Why not?” the old man said. “Between fishermen.” They sat on the Terrace and many of the fishermen made fun of the old man and he was not angry. Others, of the older fishermen, looked at him and were sad. But they did not show it and they spoke politely about the current and the depths they had drifted their lines at and the steady good weather and of what they had seen. The successful fishermen of that day were already in and had butchered their marlin out and carried them laid full length across two planks, with two men Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea 2 staggering at the end of each plank, to the fish house where they waited for the ice truck to carry them to

to the shark factory on the other side of the cove where they were hoisted on a block and tackle, their livers removed, their fins cut off and their hides skinned out and their flesh cut into strips for salting. When the wind was in the east a smell came across the harbour from the shark factory; but today there [11] was only the faint edge of the odour because the wind had backed into the north and then dropped off and it was pleasant and sunny on the Terrace. “Santiago,” the boy said. “Yes,” the old man said. He was holding his glass and thinking of many years ago. “Can I go out to get sardines for you for tomorrow?” “No. Go and play baseball. I can still row and Rogelio will throw the net.” “I would like to go. If I cannot fish with you. I would like to serve in some way.” “You bought me a beer,” the old man said. “You are already a man.” “How old was I when you first took me in a boat?” “Five and you nearly were killed when I brought the fish in too green and he nearly tore the boat to pieces. Can you remember?” “I can remember the tail slapping and banging and the thwart breaking and the noise of the clubbing. I can remember you throwing me into the bow where the wet coiled lines were and feeling the whole boat shiver and the noise of you clubbing him like chopping a tree down and the sweet blood smell all ove

remember everything from when we first went together.” The old man looked at him with his sun-burned, confident loving eyes. “If you were my boy I’d take you out and gamble,” he said. “But you are your father’s and your mother’s and you are in a lucky boat.” “May I get the sardines? I know where I can get four baits too.” “I have mine left from today. I put them in salt in the box.” “Let me get four fresh ones.” “One,” the old man said. His hope and his confidence had never gone. But now they were freshening as when the breeze rises. “Two,” the boy said. “Two,” the old man agreed. “You didn’t steal them?” “I would,” the boy said. “But I bought these.” “Thank you,” the old man said. He was too simple to wonder when he had attained humility. But he [13] knew he had attained it and he knew it was not disgraceful and it carried no loss of true pride. “Tomorrow is going to be a good day with this current,” he said. “Where are you going?” the boy asked. “Far out to come in when the wind shifts. I want to be out before it is light.” “I’ll try to get him to work far out,” the boy said. “Then if you hook something truly big we can come to your aid.” “He does not like to work too far out.” “No,” the boy said. “But I will see something that he cannot see such as a bird working and get him to come out after dolphin.” “Are his eyes

thời gian có thể là điểm khác biệt. Do đó, cho thị trường Việt Nam, giả thuyết được đề xuất:

ver went turtle-ing. That is what kills the eyes.” “But you went turtle-ing for years off the Mosquito Coast and your eyes are good.” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea 3 “I am a strange old man” “But are you strong enough now for a truly big fish?” “I think so. And there are many tricks.” [14] “Let us take the stuff home,” the boy said. “So I can get the cast net and go after the sardines.” They picked up the gear from the boat. The old man carried the mast on his shoulder and the boy carried the wooden boat with the coiled, hard-braided brown lines, the gaff and the harpoon with its shaft. The box with the baits was under the stern of the skiff along with the club that was used to subdue the big fish when they were brought alongside. No one would steal from the old man but it was better to take the sail and the heavy lines home as the dew was bad for them and, though he was quite sure no local people would steal from him, the old man thought that a gaff and a harpoon were needless temptations to leave in a boat. They walked up the road together to the old man’s shack and went in through its open door. The old man leaned the mast with its wrapped sail against the wall and the boy put the box and the other gear beside it. The mast was nearly as long as the one room of the shack. The shack was

o and in it there was a bed, a table, one chair, and a place on the dirt floor to cook with charcoal. On the brown walls of the flattened, overlapping leaves of the sturdy fibered [15] guano there was a picture in color of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and another of the Virgin of Cobre. These were relics of his wife. Once there had been a tinted photograph of his wife on the wall but he had taken it down because it made him too lonely to see it and it was on the shelf in the corner under his clean shirt. “What do you have to eat?” the boy asked. “A pot of yellow rice with fish. Do you want some?” “No. I will eat at home. Do you want me to make the fire?” “No. I will make it later on. Or I may eat the rice cold.” “May I take the cast net?” “Of course.” There was no cast net and the boy remembered when they had sold it. But they went through this fiction every day. There was no pot of yellow rice and fish and the boy knew this too. “Eighty-five is a lucky number,” the old man said. “How would you like to see me bring one in that dressed out over a thousand pounds?” “I’ll get the cast net and go for sardines. Will you sit in the sun in the doorway?” [16] “Yes. I have yesterday’s paper and I will read the baseball.” The boy did not know whether yesterday’s paper was a fiction too. But the old man brought it out from under the bed.

H2: Tiện lợi không gian và thời gian là thuộc tính của kênh bán lẻ trực tuyến trên
website thương mại điện tử/sàn thương mại điện tử

have the sardines. I’ll keep yours and mine together on ice and we can share them in the morning. When I come back you can tell me about the baseball.” “The Yankees cannot lose.” “But I fear the Indians of Cleveland.” “Have faith in the Yankees my son. Think of the great DiMaggio.” “I fear both the Tigers of Detroit and the Indians of Cleveland.” “Be careful or you will fear even the Reds of Cincinnati and the White Sax of Chicago.” “You study it and tell me when I come back.” “Do you think we should buy a terminal of the lottery with an eighty-five? Tomorrow is the eighty-fifth day.” “We can do that,” the boy said. “But what about the eighty-seven of your great record?” [17] “It could not happen twice. Do you think you can find an eighty-five?” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea 4 “I can order one. “One sheet. That’s two dollars and a half. Who can we borrow that from?” “That’s easy. I can always borrow two dollars and a half.” “I think perhaps I can too. But I try not to borrow. First you borrow. Then you beg.” “Keep warm old man,” the boy said. “Remember we are in September.” “The month when the great fish come,” the old man said. “Anyone can be a fisherman in May.” “I go now for the sardines,” the boy said. When the boy came back the old man was asleep in the chair and the sun was down. T

ck of the chair and over the old man’s shoulders. They were strange shoulders, still powerful although very old, and the neck was still strong too and the creases did not show so much when the old man was asleep and his head fallen forward. His shirt had been patched so many times that it was like the sail and the patches were faded to many different shades by the sun. The [18] old man’s head was very old though and with his eyes closed there was no life in his face. The newspaper lay across his knees and the weight of his arm held it there in the evening breeze. He was barefooted. The boy left him there and when he came back the old man was still asleep. “Wake up old man,” the boy said and put his hand on one of the old man’s knees. The old man opened his eyes and for a moment he was coming back from a long way away. Then he smiled. “What have you got?” he asked. “Supper,” said the boy. “We’re going to have supper.” “I’m not very hungry.” “Come on and eat. You can’t fish and not eat.” “I have,” the old man said getting up and taking the newspaper and folding it. Then he started to fold the blanket. “Keep the blanket around you,” the boy said. “You’ll not fish without eating while I’m alive.” “Then live a long time and take care of yourself,” the old man said. “What are we eating?” “Black beans a

2.5.3. Lựa chọn hàng hóa dễ dàng

m in a two-decker metal container from the Terrace. The two sets of knives and forks and spoons were in his pocket with a paper napkin wrapped around each set. “Who gave this to you?” “Martin. The owner.” “I must thank him.” “I thanked him already,” the boy said. “You don’t need to thank him.” “I’ll give him the belly meat of a big fish,” the old man said. “Has he done this for us more than once?” “I think so.” “I must give him something more than the belly meat then. He is very thoughtful for us.” “He sent two beers.” “I like the beer in cans best.” “I know. But this is in bottles, Hatuey beer, and I take back the bottles.” “That’s very kind of you,” the old man said. “Should we eat?” “I’ve been asking you to,” the boy told him gently. “I have not wished to open the container until you were ready.” [20] “I’m ready now,” the old man said. “I only needed time to wash.” Where did you wash? the boy thought. The village water supply was two streets down the road. I must have water here for him, the boy thought, and soap and a good towel. Why am I so Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea 5 thoughtless? I must get him another shirt and a jacket for the winter and some sort of shoes and another blanket. “Your stew is excellent,” the old man said. “Tell me about the baseball,” the boy asked him. “In the American Leag

oday,” the boy told him. “That means nothing. The great DiMaggio is himself again.” “They have other men on the team.” “Naturally. But he makes the difference. In the other league, between Brooklyn and Philadelphia I must take Brooklyn. But then I think of Dick Sisler and those great drives In the old park.” “There was nothing ever like them. He hits the longest ball I have ever seen.” “Do you remember when he used to come to the Terrace?” [21] “I wanted to take him fishing but I was too timid to ask him. Then I asked you to ask him and you were too timid.” “I know. It was a great mistake. He might have gone with us. Then we would have that for all of our lives.” “I would like to take the great DiMaggio fishing,” the old man said. “They say his father was a fisherman. Maybe he was as poor as we are and would understand.” “The great Sisler’s father was never poor and he, the father, was playing in the Big Leagues when he was my age.” “When I was your age I was before the mast on a square rigged ship that ran to Africa and I have seen lions on the beaches in the evening.” “I know. You told me.” “Should we talk about Africa or about baseball?” “Baseball I think,” the boy said. “Tell me about the great John J. McGraw.” He said Jota for J. “He used to come to the Terrace sometimes too in the older days. But h

Khi mua sắm online, người mua sắm có thể chọn hàng hóa dễ dàng bằng cách tìm kiếm
món hàng muốn mua; chọn người bán, xem các thơng tin của hàng hóa. Các website thương mại
điện tử/sàn thương mại điện tử ln tìm cách tối ưu các từ khóa tìm kiếm để người mua lựa chọn
được món hàng họ muốn mua. Ngồi ra, giá cả của món hàng được bán trên sàn thương mại điện
tử được thông tin rõ ràng về giá bán. Khác với một số kênh truyền thống như chợ truyền thống
thì người mua phải trả giá khi mua nên người mua cảm thấy không dễ dàng khi mua vì khơng

biết trả giá mới mức giá bao nhiêu. Thuộc tính bán lẻ Lựa chọn hàng hóa trực tuyến này đã được
Ghatak và cộng sự (2016) và Chung và Shin (2008) đề nghị. Do đó, trong thị trường Việt Nam,
giả thuyết được đề xuất:

s mind was on horses as well as baseball. At least he carried lists of [22] horses at all times in his pocket and frequently spoke the names of horses on the telephone.” “He was a great manager,” the boy said. “My father thinks he was the greatest.” “Because he came here the most times,” the old man said. “If Durocher had continued to come here each year your father would think him the greatest manager.” “Who is the greatest manager, really, Luque or Mike Gonzalez?” “I think they are equal.” “And the best fisherman is you.” “No. I know others better.” “Que Va,” the boy said. “There are many good fishermen and some great ones. But there is only you.” “Thank you. You make me happy. I hope no fish will come along so great that he will prove us wrong.” “There is no such fish if you are still strong as you say.” “I may not be as strong as I think,” the old man said. “But I know many tricks and I have resolution.” “You ought to go to bed now so that you will be fresh in the morning. I will take the things back to the Terrace.” [23] “Good night then. I will wake you in the morning.” “You’re my alarm clock,” the boy said. Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea 6 “Age is my alarm clock,” the old man said. “Why do old men wake so early? Is it to have one longer day?” “I don’t know,” the boy said. “All I know is that you

’ll waken you in time.” “I do not like for him to waken me. It is as though I were inferior.” “I know.” “Sleep well old man.” The boy went out. They had eaten with no light on the table and the old man took off his trousers and went to bed in the dark. He rolled his trousers up to make a pillow, putting the newspaper inside them. He rolled himself in the blanket and slept on the other old newspapers that covered the springs of the bed. He was asleep in a short time and he dreamed of Africa when he was a boy and the long golden beaches and the white beaches, so white they hurt your eyes, and the high capes and the great brown mountains. He lived along that coast now every night and in his dreams he heard the surf roar and saw the native boats [24] come riding through it. He smelled the tar and oakum of the deck as he slept and he smelled the smell of Africa that the land breeze brought at morning. Usually when he smelled the land breeze he woke up and dressed to go and wake the boy. But tonight the smell of the land breeze came very early and he knew it was too early in his dream and went on dreaming to see the white peaks of the Islands rising from the sea and then he dreamed of the different harbours and roadsteads of the Canary Islands. He no longer dreamed of storms, nor of women, nor of grea

r of his wife. He only dreamed of places now and of the lions on the beach. They played like young cats in the dusk and he loved them as he loved the boy. He never dreamed about the boy. He simply woke, looked out the open door at the moon and unrolled his trousers and put them on. He urinated outside the shack and then went up the road to wake the boy. He was shivering with the morning cold. But he knew he would shiver himself warm and that soon he would be rowing. The door of the house where the boy lived was unlocked and he opened it and walked in quietly with his [25] bare feet. The boy was asleep on a cot in the first room and the old man could see him clearly with the light that came in from the dying moon. He took hold of one foot gently and held it until the boy woke and turned and looked at him. The old man nodded and the boy took his trousers from the chair by the bed and, sitting on the bed, pulled them on. The old man went out the door and the boy came after him. He was sleepy and the old man put his arm across his shoulders and said, “I am sorry.” “Qua Va,” the boy said. “It is what a man must do.” They walked down the road to the old man’s shack and all along the road, in the dark, barefoot men were moving, carrying the masts of their boats. When they reached the old man’

d gaff and the old man carried the mast with the furled sail on his shoulder. “Do you want coffee?” the boy asked. “We’ll put the gear in the boat and then get some.” They had coffee from condensed milk cans at an early morning place that served fishermen. “How did you sleep old man?” the boy asked. He [26] was waking up now although it was still hard for him to leave his sleep. “Very well, Manolin,” the old man said. “I feel confident today.” “So do I,” the boy said. “Now I must get your sardines and mine and your fresh baits. He brings our gear himself. He never wants anyone to carry anything.” “We’re different,” the old man said. “I let you carry things when you were five years old.”

H3: Lựa chọn hàng hóa dễ dàng là thuộc tính của kênh bán lẻ trực tuyến trên website
thương mại điện tử/sàn thương mại điện tử
2.5.4. Hàng hóa
Thuộc tính hàng hóa này là đề cập tới chất lượng và thơng tin hàng hóa. Thuộc tính hàng
hóa được nghiên cứu nhiều trong các nghiên cứu của kênh bán lẻ vật lý như siêu thị (Nguyen,
2016), cửa hàng tiện lợi (Nguyen & ctg., 2019), chợ truyền thống (Evangelista & ctg., 2019).
Cịn trong kênh bán lẻ trực tuyến thì thuộc tính này ít được nghiên cứu mà các nghiên cứu hầu
như chỉ quan tâm về hàng hóa đa dạng như trong nghiên cứu của Kotni (2017). Do đó, trong thị
trường Việt Nam, giả thuyết được đề xuất:
H4: Hàng hóa là thuộc tính của kênh bán lẻ trực tuyến trên website thương mại điện
tử/sàn thương mại điện tử
3. Phương pháp nghiên cứu
Nghiên cứu định tính sử dụng kỹ thuật phỏng vấn sâu 18 người tiêu dùng để khám phá
các thuộc tính bán lẻ của kênh bán lẻ trực tuyến. Đây là những người thường xuyên mua sản
phẩm trên các website thương mại điện tử/sàn thương mại điện tử với giới tính và độ tuổi khác
nhau với chọn mẫu thuận tiện. Kích cỡ mẫu dừng ở con số 18 do dữ liệu được khám phá đã bão
hịa do khơng có các khám phá mới. Sau đó là phương pháp khảo sát trực tuyến với chọn mẫu
thuận tiện. Các thuộc tính bán lẻ sử dụng thang đo 5 điểm tầm quan trọng. Kích cỡ mẫu là 288

đáp viên.
4. Kết quả nghiên cứu và thảo luận
4.1. Kết quả nghiên cứu định tính
Nghiên cứu sơ bộ bằng phương pháp nghiên cứu định tính đã khám phá được 20 thuộc
tính trong Bảng 1.
Bảng 1
Tên thuộc tính
STT

Tên thuộc tính

1

Giá thấp

2

Chất lượng hàng hố

Nguồn
Nghiên cứu định tính, Chung và Shin
(2008), Ghatak và cộng sự (2016)
Nghiên cứu định tính


old man who fished alone in a skiff in the Gulf Stream and he had gone eighty-four days now without taking a fish. In the first forty days a boy had been with him. But after forty days without a fish the boy’s parents had told him that the old man was now definitely and finally salao, which is the worst form of unlucky, and the boy had gone at their orders in another boat which caught three good fish the first week. It made the boy sad to see the old man come in each day with his skiff empty and he always went down to help him carry either the coiled lines or the gaff and harpoon and the sail that was furled around the mast. The sail was patched with flour sacks and, furled, it looked like the flag of permanent defeat. The old man was thin and gaunt with deep wrinkles in the back of his neck. The brown blotches of the benevolent skin cancer the sun brings from its [9] reflection on the tropic sea were on his cheeks. The blotches ran well down the sides of his face and his hands had the deep-creased scars from handling heavy fish on the cords. But none of these scars were fresh. They were as old as erosions in a fishless desert. Everything about him was old except his eyes and they were the same color as the sea and were cheerful and undefeated. “Santiago,” the boy said to him as they climbed the bank from

Nguyễn Thanh Minh. HCMCOUJS-Kinh tế và Quản trị kinh doanh, 19(2), …-…

e some money.” The old man had taught the boy to fish and the boy loved him. “No,” the old man said. “You’re with a lucky boat. Stay with them.” “But remember how you went eighty-seven days without fish and then we caught big ones every day for three weeks.” “I remember,” the old man said. “I know you did not leave me because you doubted.” “It was papa made me leave. I am a boy and I must obey him.” “I know,” the old man said. “It is quite normal.” “He hasn’t much faith.” [10] “No,” the old man said. “But we have. Haven’t we?” ‘Yes,” the boy said. “Can I offer you a beer on the Terrace and then we’ll take the stuff home.” “Why not?” the old man said. “Between fishermen.” They sat on the Terrace and many of the fishermen made fun of the old man and he was not angry. Others, of the older fishermen, looked at him and were sad. But they did not show it and they spoke politely about the current and the depths they had drifted their lines at and the steady good weather and of what they had seen. The successful fishermen of that day were already in and had butchered their marlin out and carried them laid full length across two planks, with two men Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea 2 staggering at the end of each plank, to the fish house where they waited for the ice truck to carry them to

to the shark factory on the other side of the cove where they were hoisted on a block and tackle, their livers removed, their fins cut off and their hides skinned out and their flesh cut into strips for salting. When the wind was in the east a smell came across the harbour from the shark factory; but today there [11] was only the faint edge of the odour because the wind had backed into the north and then dropped off and it was pleasant and sunny on the Terrace. “Santiago,” the boy said. “Yes,” the old man said. He was holding his glass and thinking of many years ago. “Can I go out to get sardines for you for tomorrow?” “No. Go and play baseball. I can still row and Rogelio will throw the net.” “I would like to go. If I cannot fish with you. I would like to serve in some way.” “You bought me a beer,” the old man said. “You are already a man.” “How old was I when you first took me in a boat?” “Five and you nearly were killed when I brought the fish in too green and he nearly tore the boat to pieces. Can you remember?” “I can remember the tail slapping and banging and the thwart breaking and the noise of the clubbing. I can remember you throwing me into the bow where the wet coiled lines were and feeling the whole boat shiver and the noise of you clubbing him like chopping a tree down and the sweet blood smell all ove

remember everything from when we first went together.” The old man looked at him with his sun-burned, confident loving eyes. “If you were my boy I’d take you out and gamble,” he said. “But you are your father’s and your mother’s and you are in a lucky boat.” “May I get the sardines? I know where I can get four baits too.” “I have mine left from today. I put them in salt in the box.” “Let me get four fresh ones.” “One,” the old man said. His hope and his confidence had never gone. But now they were freshening as when the breeze rises. “Two,” the boy said. “Two,” the old man agreed. “You didn’t steal them?” “I would,” the boy said. “But I bought these.” “Thank you,” the old man said. He was too simple to wonder when he had attained humility. But he [13] knew he had attained it and he knew it was not disgraceful and it carried no loss of true pride. “Tomorrow is going to be a good day with this current,” he said. “Where are you going?” the boy asked. “Far out to come in when the wind shifts. I want to be out before it is light.” “I’ll try to get him to work far out,” the boy said. “Then if you hook something truly big we can come to your aid.” “He does not like to work too far out.” “No,” the boy said. “But I will see something that he cannot see such as a bird working and get him to come out after dolphin.” “Are his eyes

STT

Tên thuộc tính

Nguồn

ver went turtle-ing. That is what kills the eyes.” “But you went turtle-ing for years off the Mosquito Coast and your eyes are good.” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea 3 “I am a strange old man” “But are you strong enough now for a truly big fish?” “I think so. And there are many tricks.” [14] “Let us take the stuff home,” the boy said. “So I can get the cast net and go after the sardines.” They picked up the gear from the boat. The old man carried the mast on his shoulder and the boy carried the wooden boat with the coiled, hard-braided brown lines, the gaff and the harpoon with its shaft. The box with the baits was under the stern of the skiff along with the club that was used to subdue the big fish when they were brought alongside. No one would steal from the old man but it was better to take the sail and the heavy lines home as the dew was bad for them and, though he was quite sure no local people would steal from him, the old man thought that a gaff and a harpoon were needless temptations to leave in a boat. They walked up the road together to the old man’s shack and went in through its open door. The old man leaned the mast with its wrapped sail against the wall and the boy put the box and the other gear beside it. The mast was nearly as long as the one room of the shack. The shack was

o and in it there was a bed, a table, one chair, and a place on the dirt floor to cook with charcoal. On the brown walls of the flattened, overlapping leaves of the sturdy fibered [15] guano there was a picture in color of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and another of the Virgin of Cobre. These were relics of his wife. Once there had been a tinted photograph of his wife on the wall but he had taken it down because it made him too lonely to see it and it was on the shelf in the corner under his clean shirt. “What do you have to eat?” the boy asked. “A pot of yellow rice with fish. Do you want some?” “No. I will eat at home. Do you want me to make the fire?” “No. I will make it later on. Or I may eat the rice cold.” “May I take the cast net?” “Of course.” There was no cast net and the boy remembered when they had sold it. But they went through this fiction every day. There was no pot of yellow rice and fish and the boy knew this too. “Eighty-five is a lucky number,” the old man said. “How would you like to see me bring one in that dressed out over a thousand pounds?” “I’ll get the cast net and go for sardines. Will you sit in the sun in the doorway?” [16] “Yes. I have yesterday’s paper and I will read the baseball.” The boy did not know whether yesterday’s paper was a fiction too. But the old man brought it out from under the bed.

Nghiên cứu định tính, Dholakia và
Zhao (2010)

have the sardines. I’ll keep yours and mine together on ice and we can share them in the morning. When I come back you can tell me about the baseball.” “The Yankees cannot lose.” “But I fear the Indians of Cleveland.” “Have faith in the Yankees my son. Think of the great DiMaggio.” “I fear both the Tigers of Detroit and the Indians of Cleveland.” “Be careful or you will fear even the Reds of Cincinnati and the White Sax of Chicago.” “You study it and tell me when I come back.” “Do you think we should buy a terminal of the lottery with an eighty-five? Tomorrow is the eighty-fifth day.” “We can do that,” the boy said. “But what about the eighty-seven of your great record?” [17] “It could not happen twice. Do you think you can find an eighty-five?” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea 4 “I can order one. “One sheet. That’s two dollars and a half. Who can we borrow that from?” “That’s easy. I can always borrow two dollars and a half.” “I think perhaps I can too. But I try not to borrow. First you borrow. Then you beg.” “Keep warm old man,” the boy said. “Remember we are in September.” “The month when the great fish come,” the old man said. “Anyone can be a fisherman in May.” “I go now for the sardines,” the boy said. When the boy came back the old man was asleep in the chair and the sun was down. T

3

Thông tin về hàng hoá rõ ràng

ck of the chair and over the old man’s shoulders. They were strange shoulders, still powerful although very old, and the neck was still strong too and the creases did not show so much when the old man was asleep and his head fallen forward. His shirt had been patched so many times that it was like the sail and the patches were faded to many different shades by the sun. The [18] old man’s head was very old though and with his eyes closed there was no life in his face. The newspaper lay across his knees and the weight of his arm held it there in the evening breeze. He was barefooted. The boy left him there and when he came back the old man was still asleep. “Wake up old man,” the boy said and put his hand on one of the old man’s knees. The old man opened his eyes and for a moment he was coming back from a long way away. Then he smiled. “What have you got?” he asked. “Supper,” said the boy. “We’re going to have supper.” “I’m not very hungry.” “Come on and eat. You can’t fish and not eat.” “I have,” the old man said getting up and taking the newspaper and folding it. Then he started to fold the blanket. “Keep the blanket around you,” the boy said. “You’ll not fish without eating while I’m alive.” “Then live a long time and take care of yourself,” the old man said. “What are we eating?” “Black beans a

m in a two-decker metal container from the Terrace. The two sets of knives and forks and spoons were in his pocket with a paper napkin wrapped around each set. “Who gave this to you?” “Martin. The owner.” “I must thank him.” “I thanked him already,” the boy said. “You don’t need to thank him.” “I’ll give him the belly meat of a big fish,” the old man said. “Has he done this for us more than once?” “I think so.” “I must give him something more than the belly meat then. He is very thoughtful for us.” “He sent two beers.” “I like the beer in cans best.” “I know. But this is in bottles, Hatuey beer, and I take back the bottles.” “That’s very kind of you,” the old man said. “Should we eat?” “I’ve been asking you to,” the boy told him gently. “I have not wished to open the container until you were ready.” [20] “I’m ready now,” the old man said. “I only needed time to wash.” Where did you wash? the boy thought. The village water supply was two streets down the road. I must have water here for him, the boy thought, and soap and a good towel. Why am I so Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea 5 thoughtless? I must get him another shirt and a jacket for the winter and some sort of shoes and another blanket. “Your stew is excellent,” the old man said. “Tell me about the baseball,” the boy asked him. “In the American Leag

4

Giao hàng tận nơi

Nghiên cứu định tính

oday,” the boy told him. “That means nothing. The great DiMaggio is himself again.” “They have other men on the team.” “Naturally. But he makes the difference. In the other league, between Brooklyn and Philadelphia I must take Brooklyn. But then I think of Dick Sisler and those great drives In the old park.” “There was nothing ever like them. He hits the longest ball I have ever seen.” “Do you remember when he used to come to the Terrace?” [21] “I wanted to take him fishing but I was too timid to ask him. Then I asked you to ask him and you were too timid.” “I know. It was a great mistake. He might have gone with us. Then we would have that for all of our lives.” “I would like to take the great DiMaggio fishing,” the old man said. “They say his father was a fisherman. Maybe he was as poor as we are and would understand.” “The great Sisler’s father was never poor and he, the father, was playing in the Big Leagues when he was my age.” “When I was your age I was before the mast on a square rigged ship that ran to Africa and I have seen lions on the beaches in the evening.” “I know. You told me.” “Should we talk about Africa or about baseball?” “Baseball I think,” the boy said. “Tell me about the great John J. McGraw.” He said Jota for J. “He used to come to the Terrace sometimes too in the older days. But h

s mind was on horses as well as baseball. At least he carried lists of [22] horses at all times in his pocket and frequently spoke the names of horses on the telephone.” “He was a great manager,” the boy said. “My father thinks he was the greatest.” “Because he came here the most times,” the old man said. “If Durocher had continued to come here each year your father would think him the greatest manager.” “Who is the greatest manager, really, Luque or Mike Gonzalez?” “I think they are equal.” “And the best fisherman is you.” “No. I know others better.” “Que Va,” the boy said. “There are many good fishermen and some great ones. But there is only you.” “Thank you. You make me happy. I hope no fish will come along so great that he will prove us wrong.” “There is no such fish if you are still strong as you say.” “I may not be as strong as I think,” the old man said. “But I know many tricks and I have resolution.” “You ought to go to bed now so that you will be fresh in the morning. I will take the things back to the Terrace.” [23] “Good night then. I will wake you in the morning.” “You’re my alarm clock,” the boy said. Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea 6 “Age is my alarm clock,” the old man said. “Why do old men wake so early? Is it to have one longer day?” “I don’t know,” the boy said. “All I know is that you

5

Giao hàng miễn phí

Nghiên cứu định tính

’ll waken you in time.” “I do not like for him to waken me. It is as though I were inferior.” “I know.” “Sleep well old man.” The boy went out. They had eaten with no light on the table and the old man took off his trousers and went to bed in the dark. He rolled his trousers up to make a pillow, putting the newspaper inside them. He rolled himself in the blanket and slept on the other old newspapers that covered the springs of the bed. He was asleep in a short time and he dreamed of Africa when he was a boy and the long golden beaches and the white beaches, so white they hurt your eyes, and the high capes and the great brown mountains. He lived along that coast now every night and in his dreams he heard the surf roar and saw the native boats [24] come riding through it. He smelled the tar and oakum of the deck as he slept and he smelled the smell of Africa that the land breeze brought at morning. Usually when he smelled the land breeze he woke up and dressed to go and wake the boy. But tonight the smell of the land breeze came very early and he knew it was too early in his dream and went on dreaming to see the white peaks of the Islands rising from the sea and then he dreamed of the different harbours and roadsteads of the Canary Islands. He no longer dreamed of storms, nor of women, nor of grea

Nghiên cứu định tính, Dholakia và
Zhao (2010)

r of his wife. He only dreamed of places now and of the lions on the beach. They played like young cats in the dusk and he loved them as he loved the boy. He never dreamed about the boy. He simply woke, looked out the open door at the moon and unrolled his trousers and put them on. He urinated outside the shack and then went up the road to wake the boy. He was shivering with the morning cold. But he knew he would shiver himself warm and that soon he would be rowing. The door of the house where the boy lived was unlocked and he opened it and walked in quietly with his [25] bare feet. The boy was asleep on a cot in the first room and the old man could see him clearly with the light that came in from the dying moon. He took hold of one foot gently and held it until the boy woke and turned and looked at him. The old man nodded and the boy took his trousers from the chair by the bed and, sitting on the bed, pulled them on. The old man went out the door and the boy came after him. He was sleepy and the old man put his arm across his shoulders and said, “I am sorry.” “Qua Va,” the boy said. “It is what a man must do.” They walked down the road to the old man’s shack and all along the road, in the dark, barefoot men were moving, carrying the masts of their boats. When they reached the old man’

6

Phí giao hàng thấp

7

Giá hàng hố hợp lý

Nghiên cứu định tính

8

Dịch vụ bán hàng tốt

Nghiên cứu định tính

9

Dễ tìm kiếm sản phẩm muốn mua

10

Mua sắm không giới hạn thời gian (24
giờ/ngày)

11

Mua hàng nhanh chóng

12

Chương trình khuyến mãi

13

Nhiều hàng hố từ nhiều nhà sản xuất

14

Giá bán cố định

15

Lựa chọn hàng hóa dễ dàng

Ghatak và cộng sự (2016), Chung và
Shin (2008), Dholakia và Zhao (2010)

16

Trưng bày hàng hoá hấp dẫn

Chung và Shin (2008)

17

Có nhiều sản phẩm có nguồn gốc rõ ràng

18

Người bán có thương hiệu nổi tiếng

Nghiên cứu định tính,
Sebastianelli và Tamimi (2018)

19

Mua sắm ở mọi nơi, khơng giới hạn
khơng gian (có Internet)

Nghiên cứu định tính

20

Người bán uy tín

d gaff and the old man carried the mast with the furled sail on his shoulder. “Do you want coffee?” the boy asked. “We’ll put the gear in the boat and then get some.” They had coffee from condensed milk cans at an early morning place that served fishermen. “How did you sleep old man?” the boy asked. He [26] was waking up now although it was still hard for him to leave his sleep. “Very well, Manolin,” the old man said. “I feel confident today.” “So do I,” the boy said. “Now I must get your sardines and mine and your fresh baits. He brings our gear himself. He never wants anyone to carry anything.” “We’re different,” the old man said. “I let you carry things when you were five years old.”

Nghiên cứu định tính, Ghatak và cộng
sự (2016), Chung và Shin (2008)
Nghiên cứu định tính
Nghiên cứu định tính, Kotni (2017) &
Chung và Shin (2008)
Ghatak và cộng sự (2016)
Nghiên cứu định tính
Nguyen và cộng sự (2019)

Nguyen và cộng sự (2019)

Nguyen và cộng sự (2019)

Nguồn: Nghiên cứu của tác giả

4.2. Kết quả nghiên cứu định lượng
Mẫu khảo sát bao gồm 288 đáp viên. Trong 288 đáp viên, số đáp viên có giới tính nam
chiếm 41.7% (120 đáp viên) và giới tính nữ chiếm 58.3 % (168 đáp viên). Về độ tuổi, đáp viên
dưới 30 tuổi chiếm 23.6% (68 đáp viên), đáp viên từ 30 tới 40 tuổi chiếm 68.4% (197 đáp viên),
đáp viên độ tuổi trên 40 chiếm 8% (23 đáp viên). Về thu nhập, đáp viên thu nhập dưới 10 triệu
chiếm 57.3% (165 đáp viên), đáp viên thu nhập từ 10 đến 20 triệu chiếm 31.6% (91 đáp viên), và

đáp viên thu nhập trên 20 triệu chiếm 11.1% (32 đáp viên).
Đầu tiên, 20 biến thuộc tính bán lẻ được phân tích EFA. Kết quả là năm yếu tố được trích
tại Eigenvalue là 1.1 và phương sai trích là 42.835%. Do phương sai trích chưa đạt do thấp hơn
50% và 06 biến quan sát thuộc tính bán lẻ Người bán uy tín, Dịch vụ bán hàng tốt, Giá hàng hoá


old man who fished alone in a skiff in the Gulf Stream and he had gone eighty-four days now without taking a fish. In the first forty days a boy had been with him. But after forty days without a fish the boy’s parents had told him that the old man was now definitely and finally salao, which is the worst form of unlucky, and the boy had gone at their orders in another boat which caught three good fish the first week. It made the boy sad to see the old man come in each day with his skiff empty and he always went down to help him carry either the coiled lines or the gaff and harpoon and the sail that was furled around the mast. The sail was patched with flour sacks and, furled, it looked like the flag of permanent defeat. The old man was thin and gaunt with deep wrinkles in the back of his neck. The brown blotches of the benevolent skin cancer the sun brings from its [9] reflection on the tropic sea were on his cheeks. The blotches ran well down the sides of his face and his hands had the deep-creased scars from handling heavy fish on the cords. But none of these scars were fresh. They were as old as erosions in a fishless desert. Everything about him was old except his eyes and they were the same color as the sea and were cheerful and undefeated. “Santiago,” the boy said to him as they climbed the bank from

Nguyễn Thanh Minh. HCMCOUJS-Kinh tế và Quản trị kinh doanh, 19(2), …-…

e some money.” The old man had taught the boy to fish and the boy loved him. “No,” the old man said. “You’re with a lucky boat. Stay with them.” “But remember how you went eighty-seven days without fish and then we caught big ones every day for three weeks.” “I remember,” the old man said. “I know you did not leave me because you doubted.” “It was papa made me leave. I am a boy and I must obey him.” “I know,” the old man said. “It is quite normal.” “He hasn’t much faith.” [10] “No,” the old man said. “But we have. Haven’t we?” ‘Yes,” the boy said. “Can I offer you a beer on the Terrace and then we’ll take the stuff home.” “Why not?” the old man said. “Between fishermen.” They sat on the Terrace and many of the fishermen made fun of the old man and he was not angry. Others, of the older fishermen, looked at him and were sad. But they did not show it and they spoke politely about the current and the depths they had drifted their lines at and the steady good weather and of what they had seen. The successful fishermen of that day were already in and had butchered their marlin out and carried them laid full length across two planks, with two men Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea 2 staggering at the end of each plank, to the fish house where they waited for the ice truck to carry them to

to the shark factory on the other side of the cove where they were hoisted on a block and tackle, their livers removed, their fins cut off and their hides skinned out and their flesh cut into strips for salting. When the wind was in the east a smell came across the harbour from the shark factory; but today there [11] was only the faint edge of the odour because the wind had backed into the north and then dropped off and it was pleasant and sunny on the Terrace. “Santiago,” the boy said. “Yes,” the old man said. He was holding his glass and thinking of many years ago. “Can I go out to get sardines for you for tomorrow?” “No. Go and play baseball. I can still row and Rogelio will throw the net.” “I would like to go. If I cannot fish with you. I would like to serve in some way.” “You bought me a beer,” the old man said. “You are already a man.” “How old was I when you first took me in a boat?” “Five and you nearly were killed when I brought the fish in too green and he nearly tore the boat to pieces. Can you remember?” “I can remember the tail slapping and banging and the thwart breaking and the noise of the clubbing. I can remember you throwing me into the bow where the wet coiled lines were and feeling the whole boat shiver and the noise of you clubbing him like chopping a tree down and the sweet blood smell all ove

remember everything from when we first went together.” The old man looked at him with his sun-burned, confident loving eyes. “If you were my boy I’d take you out and gamble,” he said. “But you are your father’s and your mother’s and you are in a lucky boat.” “May I get the sardines? I know where I can get four baits too.” “I have mine left from today. I put them in salt in the box.” “Let me get four fresh ones.” “One,” the old man said. His hope and his confidence had never gone. But now they were freshening as when the breeze rises. “Two,” the boy said. “Two,” the old man agreed. “You didn’t steal them?” “I would,” the boy said. “But I bought these.” “Thank you,” the old man said. He was too simple to wonder when he had attained humility. But he [13] knew he had attained it and he knew it was not disgraceful and it carried no loss of true pride. “Tomorrow is going to be a good day with this current,” he said. “Where are you going?” the boy asked. “Far out to come in when the wind shifts. I want to be out before it is light.” “I’ll try to get him to work far out,” the boy said. “Then if you hook something truly big we can come to your aid.” “He does not like to work too far out.” “No,” the boy said. “But I will see something that he cannot see such as a bird working and get him to come out after dolphin.” “Are his eyes

hợp lý, Giá thấp, Dễ tìm kiếm sản phẩm muốn mua và Người bán có thương hiệu nổi tiếng có
trọng số khơng đạt (< 0.50), nên các biến này bị loại.

ver went turtle-ing. That is what kills the eyes.” “But you went turtle-ing for years off the Mosquito Coast and your eyes are good.” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea 3 “I am a strange old man” “But are you strong enough now for a truly big fish?” “I think so. And there are many tricks.” [14] “Let us take the stuff home,” the boy said. “So I can get the cast net and go after the sardines.” They picked up the gear from the boat. The old man carried the mast on his shoulder and the boy carried the wooden boat with the coiled, hard-braided brown lines, the gaff and the harpoon with its shaft. The box with the baits was under the stern of the skiff along with the club that was used to subdue the big fish when they were brought alongside. No one would steal from the old man but it was better to take the sail and the heavy lines home as the dew was bad for them and, though he was quite sure no local people would steal from him, the old man thought that a gaff and a harpoon were needless temptations to leave in a boat. They walked up the road together to the old man’s shack and went in through its open door. The old man leaned the mast with its wrapped sail against the wall and the boy put the box and the other gear beside it. The mast was nearly as long as the one room of the shack. The shack was

o and in it there was a bed, a table, one chair, and a place on the dirt floor to cook with charcoal. On the brown walls of the flattened, overlapping leaves of the sturdy fibered [15] guano there was a picture in color of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and another of the Virgin of Cobre. These were relics of his wife. Once there had been a tinted photograph of his wife on the wall but he had taken it down because it made him too lonely to see it and it was on the shelf in the corner under his clean shirt. “What do you have to eat?” the boy asked. “A pot of yellow rice with fish. Do you want some?” “No. I will eat at home. Do you want me to make the fire?” “No. I will make it later on. Or I may eat the rice cold.” “May I take the cast net?” “Of course.” There was no cast net and the boy remembered when they had sold it. But they went through this fiction every day. There was no pot of yellow rice and fish and the boy knew this too. “Eighty-five is a lucky number,” the old man said. “How would you like to see me bring one in that dressed out over a thousand pounds?” “I’ll get the cast net and go for sardines. Will you sit in the sun in the doorway?” [16] “Yes. I have yesterday’s paper and I will read the baseball.” The boy did not know whether yesterday’s paper was a fiction too. But the old man brought it out from under the bed.

have the sardines. I’ll keep yours and mine together on ice and we can share them in the morning. When I come back you can tell me about the baseball.” “The Yankees cannot lose.” “But I fear the Indians of Cleveland.” “Have faith in the Yankees my son. Think of the great DiMaggio.” “I fear both the Tigers of Detroit and the Indians of Cleveland.” “Be careful or you will fear even the Reds of Cincinnati and the White Sax of Chicago.” “You study it and tell me when I come back.” “Do you think we should buy a terminal of the lottery with an eighty-five? Tomorrow is the eighty-fifth day.” “We can do that,” the boy said. “But what about the eighty-seven of your great record?” [17] “It could not happen twice. Do you think you can find an eighty-five?” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea 4 “I can order one. “One sheet. That’s two dollars and a half. Who can we borrow that from?” “That’s easy. I can always borrow two dollars and a half.” “I think perhaps I can too. But I try not to borrow. First you borrow. Then you beg.” “Keep warm old man,” the boy said. “Remember we are in September.” “The month when the great fish come,” the old man said. “Anyone can be a fisherman in May.” “I go now for the sardines,” the boy said. When the boy came back the old man was asleep in the chair and the sun was down. T

Sau khi loại 06 biến trên, 14 biến thuộc tính bán lẻ được phân tích lần thứ hai và phân
tích lần thứ hai trích được năm yếu tố với Eigenvalue là 1.01 và phương sai trích được là
50.601% đạt yêu cầu (> 50%). Tuy nhiên 01 biến quan sát thuộc tính bán lẻ là Có nhiều sản
phẩm có nguồn gốc, xuất xứ rõ ràng có trọng số thấp (< 0.50), nên biến này bị xóa.

ck of the chair and over the old man’s shoulders. They were strange shoulders, still powerful although very old, and the neck was still strong too and the creases did not show so much when the old man was asleep and his head fallen forward. His shirt had been patched so many times that it was like the sail and the patches were faded to many different shades by the sun. The [18] old man’s head was very old though and with his eyes closed there was no life in his face. The newspaper lay across his knees and the weight of his arm held it there in the evening breeze. He was barefooted. The boy left him there and when he came back the old man was still asleep. “Wake up old man,” the boy said and put his hand on one of the old man’s knees. The old man opened his eyes and for a moment he was coming back from a long way away. Then he smiled. “What have you got?” he asked. “Supper,” said the boy. “We’re going to have supper.” “I’m not very hungry.” “Come on and eat. You can’t fish and not eat.” “I have,” the old man said getting up and taking the newspaper and folding it. Then he started to fold the blanket. “Keep the blanket around you,” the boy said. “You’ll not fish without eating while I’m alive.” “Then live a long time and take care of yourself,” the old man said. “What are we eating?” “Black beans a

m in a two-decker metal container from the Terrace. The two sets of knives and forks and spoons were in his pocket with a paper napkin wrapped around each set. “Who gave this to you?” “Martin. The owner.” “I must thank him.” “I thanked him already,” the boy said. “You don’t need to thank him.” “I’ll give him the belly meat of a big fish,” the old man said. “Has he done this for us more than once?” “I think so.” “I must give him something more than the belly meat then. He is very thoughtful for us.” “He sent two beers.” “I like the beer in cans best.” “I know. But this is in bottles, Hatuey beer, and I take back the bottles.” “That’s very kind of you,” the old man said. “Should we eat?” “I’ve been asking you to,” the boy told him gently. “I have not wished to open the container until you were ready.” [20] “I’m ready now,” the old man said. “I only needed time to wash.” Where did you wash? the boy thought. The village water supply was two streets down the road. I must have water here for him, the boy thought, and soap and a good towel. Why am I so Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea 5 thoughtless? I must get him another shirt and a jacket for the winter and some sort of shoes and another blanket. “Your stew is excellent,” the old man said. “Tell me about the baseball,” the boy asked him. “In the American Leag

oday,” the boy told him. “That means nothing. The great DiMaggio is himself again.” “They have other men on the team.” “Naturally. But he makes the difference. In the other league, between Brooklyn and Philadelphia I must take Brooklyn. But then I think of Dick Sisler and those great drives In the old park.” “There was nothing ever like them. He hits the longest ball I have ever seen.” “Do you remember when he used to come to the Terrace?” [21] “I wanted to take him fishing but I was too timid to ask him. Then I asked you to ask him and you were too timid.” “I know. It was a great mistake. He might have gone with us. Then we would have that for all of our lives.” “I would like to take the great DiMaggio fishing,” the old man said. “They say his father was a fisherman. Maybe he was as poor as we are and would understand.” “The great Sisler’s father was never poor and he, the father, was playing in the Big Leagues when he was my age.” “When I was your age I was before the mast on a square rigged ship that ran to Africa and I have seen lions on the beaches in the evening.” “I know. You told me.” “Should we talk about Africa or about baseball?” “Baseball I think,” the boy said. “Tell me about the great John J. McGraw.” He said Jota for J. “He used to come to the Terrace sometimes too in the older days. But h

s mind was on horses as well as baseball. At least he carried lists of [22] horses at all times in his pocket and frequently spoke the names of horses on the telephone.” “He was a great manager,” the boy said. “My father thinks he was the greatest.” “Because he came here the most times,” the old man said. “If Durocher had continued to come here each year your father would think him the greatest manager.” “Who is the greatest manager, really, Luque or Mike Gonzalez?” “I think they are equal.” “And the best fisherman is you.” “No. I know others better.” “Que Va,” the boy said. “There are many good fishermen and some great ones. But there is only you.” “Thank you. You make me happy. I hope no fish will come along so great that he will prove us wrong.” “There is no such fish if you are still strong as you say.” “I may not be as strong as I think,” the old man said. “But I know many tricks and I have resolution.” “You ought to go to bed now so that you will be fresh in the morning. I will take the things back to the Terrace.” [23] “Good night then. I will wake you in the morning.” “You’re my alarm clock,” the boy said. Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea 6 “Age is my alarm clock,” the old man said. “Why do old men wake so early? Is it to have one longer day?” “I don’t know,” the boy said. “All I know is that you

’ll waken you in time.” “I do not like for him to waken me. It is as though I were inferior.” “I know.” “Sleep well old man.” The boy went out. They had eaten with no light on the table and the old man took off his trousers and went to bed in the dark. He rolled his trousers up to make a pillow, putting the newspaper inside them. He rolled himself in the blanket and slept on the other old newspapers that covered the springs of the bed. He was asleep in a short time and he dreamed of Africa when he was a boy and the long golden beaches and the white beaches, so white they hurt your eyes, and the high capes and the great brown mountains. He lived along that coast now every night and in his dreams he heard the surf roar and saw the native boats [24] come riding through it. He smelled the tar and oakum of the deck as he slept and he smelled the smell of Africa that the land breeze brought at morning. Usually when he smelled the land breeze he woke up and dressed to go and wake the boy. But tonight the smell of the land breeze came very early and he knew it was too early in his dream and went on dreaming to see the white peaks of the Islands rising from the sea and then he dreamed of the different harbours and roadsteads of the Canary Islands. He no longer dreamed of storms, nor of women, nor of grea

13 biến thuộc tính bán lẻ được phân tích lần thứ ba và kết quả là trích được năm yếu tố
với Eigenvalue là 1.009 và phương sai trích được là 52.268 đạt yêu cầu (> 50%). Tuy nhiên 01
biến quan sát thuộc tính bán lẻ là Chương trình khuyến mãi có trọng số có khơng đạt u cầu (<
0.50), nên biến này bị xóa.

r of his wife. He only dreamed of places now and of the lions on the beach. They played like young cats in the dusk and he loved them as he loved the boy. He never dreamed about the boy. He simply woke, looked out the open door at the moon and unrolled his trousers and put them on. He urinated outside the shack and then went up the road to wake the boy. He was shivering with the morning cold. But he knew he would shiver himself warm and that soon he would be rowing. The door of the house where the boy lived was unlocked and he opened it and walked in quietly with his [25] bare feet. The boy was asleep on a cot in the first room and the old man could see him clearly with the light that came in from the dying moon. He took hold of one foot gently and held it until the boy woke and turned and looked at him. The old man nodded and the boy took his trousers from the chair by the bed and, sitting on the bed, pulled them on. The old man went out the door and the boy came after him. He was sleepy and the old man put his arm across his shoulders and said, “I am sorry.” “Qua Va,” the boy said. “It is what a man must do.” They walked down the road to the old man’s shack and all along the road, in the dark, barefoot men were moving, carrying the masts of their boats. When they reached the old man’

d gaff and the old man carried the mast with the furled sail on his shoulder. “Do you want coffee?” the boy asked. “We’ll put the gear in the boat and then get some.” They had coffee from condensed milk cans at an early morning place that served fishermen. “How did you sleep old man?” the boy asked. He [26] was waking up now although it was still hard for him to leave his sleep. “Very well, Manolin,” the old man said. “I feel confident today.” “So do I,” the boy said. “Now I must get your sardines and mine and your fresh baits. He brings our gear himself. He never wants anyone to carry anything.” “We’re different,” the old man said. “I let you carry things when you were five years old.”

12 biến thuộc tính bán lẻ được phân tích lần thứ tư và kết quả là trích được bốn yếu tố với
Eigenvalue là 1.077 và phương sai trích được là 50.175 đạt yêu cầu (> 50%). Tuy nhiên 01 biến
quan sát thuộc tính bán lẻ là Nhiều hàng hoá từ nhiều nhà sản xuất có trọng số thấp (< 0.50), nên
biến này bị xóa.
11 biến thuộc tính bán lẻ được phân tích EFA lần thứ năm và EFA lần thứ năm trích được
bốn yếu tố được trích tại Eigenvalue là 1.066 và phương sai trích được là 53.320% đạt yêu cầu
(> 50%) và tất cả 11 biến đều có trọng số đạt yêu cầu (> 0.50). Như vậy kết quả phân tích EFA
có 04 thành phần và 11 biến.
Bảng 2
Kết quả EFA
Nhân tố

Biến

Dịch vụ
giao hàng

Giao hàng miễn phí

.834

Phí giao hàng thấp

.746

Giao hàng tận nơi

.593

Tiện lợi
không gian
và thời gian

Mua sắm không giới hạn thời gian (24
giờ/ngày)

.863

Mua hàng nhanh chóng

.657

Mua sắm ở mọi nơi, khơng giới hạn khơng
gian (có Internet)

.572

Lựa chọn
hàng hóa
dễ dàng

Lựa chọn hàng hoá dễ dàng

.855

Giá bán cố định

.679

Trưng bày hàng hoá hấp dẫn, dễ tìm kiếm

.524

Hàng
hóa

Thơng tin về hàng hố rõ ràng

.747

Chất lượng hàng hoá

.709

Eigenvalue

3.284

1.781

1.520

1.066


old man who fished alone in a skiff in the Gulf Stream and he had gone eighty-four days now without taking a fish. In the first forty days a boy had been with him. But after forty days without a fish the boy’s parents had told him that the old man was now definitely and finally salao, which is the worst form of unlucky, and the boy had gone at their orders in another boat which caught three good fish the first week. It made the boy sad to see the old man come in each day with his skiff empty and he always went down to help him carry either the coiled lines or the gaff and harpoon and the sail that was furled around the mast. The sail was patched with flour sacks and, furled, it looked like the flag of permanent defeat. The old man was thin and gaunt with deep wrinkles in the back of his neck. The brown blotches of the benevolent skin cancer the sun brings from its [9] reflection on the tropic sea were on his cheeks. The blotches ran well down the sides of his face and his hands had the deep-creased scars from handling heavy fish on the cords. But none of these scars were fresh. They were as old as erosions in a fishless desert. Everything about him was old except his eyes and they were the same color as the sea and were cheerful and undefeated. “Santiago,” the boy said to him as they climbed the bank from

Nguyễn Thanh Minh. HCMCOUJS-Kinh tế và Quản trị kinh doanh, 19(2), …-…

e some money.” The old man had taught the boy to fish and the boy loved him. “No,” the old man said. “You’re with a lucky boat. Stay with them.” “But remember how you went eighty-seven days without fish and then we caught big ones every day for three weeks.” “I remember,” the old man said. “I know you did not leave me because you doubted.” “It was papa made me leave. I am a boy and I must obey him.” “I know,” the old man said. “It is quite normal.” “He hasn’t much faith.” [10] “No,” the old man said. “But we have. Haven’t we?” ‘Yes,” the boy said. “Can I offer you a beer on the Terrace and then we’ll take the stuff home.” “Why not?” the old man said. “Between fishermen.” They sat on the Terrace and many of the fishermen made fun of the old man and he was not angry. Others, of the older fishermen, looked at him and were sad. But they did not show it and they spoke politely about the current and the depths they had drifted their lines at and the steady good weather and of what they had seen. The successful fishermen of that day were already in and had butchered their marlin out and carried them laid full length across two planks, with two men Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea 2 staggering at the end of each plank, to the fish house where they waited for the ice truck to carry them to

to the shark factory on the other side of the cove where they were hoisted on a block and tackle, their livers removed, their fins cut off and their hides skinned out and their flesh cut into strips for salting. When the wind was in the east a smell came across the harbour from the shark factory; but today there [11] was only the faint edge of the odour because the wind had backed into the north and then dropped off and it was pleasant and sunny on the Terrace. “Santiago,” the boy said. “Yes,” the old man said. He was holding his glass and thinking of many years ago. “Can I go out to get sardines for you for tomorrow?” “No. Go and play baseball. I can still row and Rogelio will throw the net.” “I would like to go. If I cannot fish with you. I would like to serve in some way.” “You bought me a beer,” the old man said. “You are already a man.” “How old was I when you first took me in a boat?” “Five and you nearly were killed when I brought the fish in too green and he nearly tore the boat to pieces. Can you remember?” “I can remember the tail slapping and banging and the thwart breaking and the noise of the clubbing. I can remember you throwing me into the bow where the wet coiled lines were and feeling the whole boat shiver and the noise of you clubbing him like chopping a tree down and the sweet blood smell all ove

remember everything from when we first went together.” The old man looked at him with his sun-burned, confident loving eyes. “If you were my boy I’d take you out and gamble,” he said. “But you are your father’s and your mother’s and you are in a lucky boat.” “May I get the sardines? I know where I can get four baits too.” “I have mine left from today. I put them in salt in the box.” “Let me get four fresh ones.” “One,” the old man said. His hope and his confidence had never gone. But now they were freshening as when the breeze rises. “Two,” the boy said. “Two,” the old man agreed. “You didn’t steal them?” “I would,” the boy said. “But I bought these.” “Thank you,” the old man said. He was too simple to wonder when he had attained humility. But he [13] knew he had attained it and he knew it was not disgraceful and it carried no loss of true pride. “Tomorrow is going to be a good day with this current,” he said. “Where are you going?” the boy asked. “Far out to come in when the wind shifts. I want to be out before it is light.” “I’ll try to get him to work far out,” the boy said. “Then if you hook something truly big we can come to your aid.” “He does not like to work too far out.” “No,” the boy said. “But I will see something that he cannot see such as a bird working and get him to come out after dolphin.” “Are his eyes

Phương sai trích

25.673

12.396

9.619

5.632

ver went turtle-ing. That is what kills the eyes.” “But you went turtle-ing for years off the Mosquito Coast and your eyes are good.” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea 3 “I am a strange old man” “But are you strong enough now for a truly big fish?” “I think so. And there are many tricks.” [14] “Let us take the stuff home,” the boy said. “So I can get the cast net and go after the sardines.” They picked up the gear from the boat. The old man carried the mast on his shoulder and the boy carried the wooden boat with the coiled, hard-braided brown lines, the gaff and the harpoon with its shaft. The box with the baits was under the stern of the skiff along with the club that was used to subdue the big fish when they were brought alongside. No one would steal from the old man but it was better to take the sail and the heavy lines home as the dew was bad for them and, though he was quite sure no local people would steal from him, the old man thought that a gaff and a harpoon were needless temptations to leave in a boat. They walked up the road together to the old man’s shack and went in through its open door. The old man leaned the mast with its wrapped sail against the wall and the boy put the box and the other gear beside it. The mast was nearly as long as the one room of the shack. The shack was

o and in it there was a bed, a table, one chair, and a place on the dirt floor to cook with charcoal. On the brown walls of the flattened, overlapping leaves of the sturdy fibered [15] guano there was a picture in color of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and another of the Virgin of Cobre. These were relics of his wife. Once there had been a tinted photograph of his wife on the wall but he had taken it down because it made him too lonely to see it and it was on the shelf in the corner under his clean shirt. “What do you have to eat?” the boy asked. “A pot of yellow rice with fish. Do you want some?” “No. I will eat at home. Do you want me to make the fire?” “No. I will make it later on. Or I may eat the rice cold.” “May I take the cast net?” “Of course.” There was no cast net and the boy remembered when they had sold it. But they went through this fiction every day. There was no pot of yellow rice and fish and the boy knew this too. “Eighty-five is a lucky number,” the old man said. “How would you like to see me bring one in that dressed out over a thousand pounds?” “I’ll get the cast net and go for sardines. Will you sit in the sun in the doorway?” [16] “Yes. I have yesterday’s paper and I will read the baseball.” The boy did not know whether yesterday’s paper was a fiction too. But the old man brought it out from under the bed.

Cronbach’s Alpha

0.759

0.746

0.735

0.695

have the sardines. I’ll keep yours and mine together on ice and we can share them in the morning. When I come back you can tell me about the baseball.” “The Yankees cannot lose.” “But I fear the Indians of Cleveland.” “Have faith in the Yankees my son. Think of the great DiMaggio.” “I fear both the Tigers of Detroit and the Indians of Cleveland.” “Be careful or you will fear even the Reds of Cincinnati and the White Sax of Chicago.” “You study it and tell me when I come back.” “Do you think we should buy a terminal of the lottery with an eighty-five? Tomorrow is the eighty-fifth day.” “We can do that,” the boy said. “But what about the eighty-seven of your great record?” [17] “It could not happen twice. Do you think you can find an eighty-five?” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea 4 “I can order one. “One sheet. That’s two dollars and a half. Who can we borrow that from?” “That’s easy. I can always borrow two dollars and a half.” “I think perhaps I can too. But I try not to borrow. First you borrow. Then you beg.” “Keep warm old man,” the boy said. “Remember we are in September.” “The month when the great fish come,” the old man said. “Anyone can be a fisherman in May.” “I go now for the sardines,” the boy said. When the boy came back the old man was asleep in the chair and the sun was down. T

ck of the chair and over the old man’s shoulders. They were strange shoulders, still powerful although very old, and the neck was still strong too and the creases did not show so much when the old man was asleep and his head fallen forward. His shirt had been patched so many times that it was like the sail and the patches were faded to many different shades by the sun. The [18] old man’s head was very old though and with his eyes closed there was no life in his face. The newspaper lay across his knees and the weight of his arm held it there in the evening breeze. He was barefooted. The boy left him there and when he came back the old man was still asleep. “Wake up old man,” the boy said and put his hand on one of the old man’s knees. The old man opened his eyes and for a moment he was coming back from a long way away. Then he smiled. “What have you got?” he asked. “Supper,” said the boy. “We’re going to have supper.” “I’m not very hungry.” “Come on and eat. You can’t fish and not eat.” “I have,” the old man said getting up and taking the newspaper and folding it. Then he started to fold the blanket. “Keep the blanket around you,” the boy said. “You’ll not fish without eating while I’m alive.” “Then live a long time and take care of yourself,” the old man said. “What are we eating?” “Black beans a

Nguồn: nghiên cứu của tác giả

m in a two-decker metal container from the Terrace. The two sets of knives and forks and spoons were in his pocket with a paper napkin wrapped around each set. “Who gave this to you?” “Martin. The owner.” “I must thank him.” “I thanked him already,” the boy said. “You don’t need to thank him.” “I’ll give him the belly meat of a big fish,” the old man said. “Has he done this for us more than once?” “I think so.” “I must give him something more than the belly meat then. He is very thoughtful for us.” “He sent two beers.” “I like the beer in cans best.” “I know. But this is in bottles, Hatuey beer, and I take back the bottles.” “That’s very kind of you,” the old man said. “Should we eat?” “I’ve been asking you to,” the boy told him gently. “I have not wished to open the container until you were ready.” [20] “I’m ready now,” the old man said. “I only needed time to wash.” Where did you wash? the boy thought. The village water supply was two streets down the road. I must have water here for him, the boy thought, and soap and a good towel. Why am I so Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea 5 thoughtless? I must get him another shirt and a jacket for the winter and some sort of shoes and another blanket. “Your stew is excellent,” the old man said. “Tell me about the baseball,” the boy asked him. “In the American Leag

Sau khi phân tích nhân tố, các nhân tố được đặt tên (Hair, Black, Babin, & Aderson,
2010). Nhân tố số 1 được đặt tên là Dịch vụ giao hàng. Nhân tố số 2 là Tiện lợi không gian và
thời gian. Nhân tố số 3 là Lựa chọn hàng hóa dễ dàng. Nhân tố số 4 là Hàng hóa. Sau khi đặt
tên cho các nhân tố, các khái niệm tiếp tục được kiểm tra hệ số Cronbach’s Alpha. Kết quả là các
thuộc tính bán lẻ của kênh bán hàng trực tuyến đều đạt yêu cầu (Xem Bảng 2).

oday,” the boy told him. “That means nothing. The great DiMaggio is himself again.” “They have other men on the team.” “Naturally. But he makes the difference. In the other league, between Brooklyn and Philadelphia I must take Brooklyn. But then I think of Dick Sisler and those great drives In the old park.” “There was nothing ever like them. He hits the longest ball I have ever seen.” “Do you remember when he used to come to the Terrace?” [21] “I wanted to take him fishing but I was too timid to ask him. Then I asked you to ask him and you were too timid.” “I know. It was a great mistake. He might have gone with us. Then we would have that for all of our lives.” “I would like to take the great DiMaggio fishing,” the old man said. “They say his father was a fisherman. Maybe he was as poor as we are and would understand.” “The great Sisler’s father was never poor and he, the father, was playing in the Big Leagues when he was my age.” “When I was your age I was before the mast on a square rigged ship that ran to Africa and I have seen lions on the beaches in the evening.” “I know. You told me.” “Should we talk about Africa or about baseball?” “Baseball I think,” the boy said. “Tell me about the great John J. McGraw.” He said Jota for J. “He used to come to the Terrace sometimes too in the older days. But h

s mind was on horses as well as baseball. At least he carried lists of [22] horses at all times in his pocket and frequently spoke the names of horses on the telephone.” “He was a great manager,” the boy said. “My father thinks he was the greatest.” “Because he came here the most times,” the old man said. “If Durocher had continued to come here each year your father would think him the greatest manager.” “Who is the greatest manager, really, Luque or Mike Gonzalez?” “I think they are equal.” “And the best fisherman is you.” “No. I know others better.” “Que Va,” the boy said. “There are many good fishermen and some great ones. But there is only you.” “Thank you. You make me happy. I hope no fish will come along so great that he will prove us wrong.” “There is no such fish if you are still strong as you say.” “I may not be as strong as I think,” the old man said. “But I know many tricks and I have resolution.” “You ought to go to bed now so that you will be fresh in the morning. I will take the things back to the Terrace.” [23] “Good night then. I will wake you in the morning.” “You’re my alarm clock,” the boy said. Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea 6 “Age is my alarm clock,” the old man said. “Why do old men wake so early? Is it to have one longer day?” “I don’t know,” the boy said. “All I know is that you

’ll waken you in time.” “I do not like for him to waken me. It is as though I were inferior.” “I know.” “Sleep well old man.” The boy went out. They had eaten with no light on the table and the old man took off his trousers and went to bed in the dark. He rolled his trousers up to make a pillow, putting the newspaper inside them. He rolled himself in the blanket and slept on the other old newspapers that covered the springs of the bed. He was asleep in a short time and he dreamed of Africa when he was a boy and the long golden beaches and the white beaches, so white they hurt your eyes, and the high capes and the great brown mountains. He lived along that coast now every night and in his dreams he heard the surf roar and saw the native boats [24] come riding through it. He smelled the tar and oakum of the deck as he slept and he smelled the smell of Africa that the land breeze brought at morning. Usually when he smelled the land breeze he woke up and dressed to go and wake the boy. But tonight the smell of the land breeze came very early and he knew it was too early in his dream and went on dreaming to see the white peaks of the Islands rising from the sea and then he dreamed of the different harbours and roadsteads of the Canary Islands. He no longer dreamed of storms, nor of women, nor of grea

r of his wife. He only dreamed of places now and of the lions on the beach. They played like young cats in the dusk and he loved them as he loved the boy. He never dreamed about the boy. He simply woke, looked out the open door at the moon and unrolled his trousers and put them on. He urinated outside the shack and then went up the road to wake the boy. He was shivering with the morning cold. But he knew he would shiver himself warm and that soon he would be rowing. The door of the house where the boy lived was unlocked and he opened it and walked in quietly with his [25] bare feet. The boy was asleep on a cot in the first room and the old man could see him clearly with the light that came in from the dying moon. He took hold of one foot gently and held it until the boy woke and turned and looked at him. The old man nodded and the boy took his trousers from the chair by the bed and, sitting on the bed, pulled them on. The old man went out the door and the boy came after him. He was sleepy and the old man put his arm across his shoulders and said, “I am sorry.” “Qua Va,” the boy said. “It is what a man must do.” They walked down the road to the old man’s shack and all along the road, in the dark, barefoot men were moving, carrying the masts of their boats. When they reached the old man’

d gaff and the old man carried the mast with the furled sail on his shoulder. “Do you want coffee?” the boy asked. “We’ll put the gear in the boat and then get some.” They had coffee from condensed milk cans at an early morning place that served fishermen. “How did you sleep old man?” the boy asked. He [26] was waking up now although it was still hard for him to leave his sleep. “Very well, Manolin,” the old man said. “I feel confident today.” “So do I,” the boy said. “Now I must get your sardines and mine and your fresh baits. He brings our gear himself. He never wants anyone to carry anything.” “We’re different,” the old man said. “I let you carry things when you were five years old.”

Kết quả phân tích cấu trúc tuyến tính của phân tích CFA cho thấy mơ hình này có Chibình phương là 59.536 với 38 bậc tự do với p = 0.014. CMIN/df đạt 1.567, đạt yêu cầu. Ngoài ra
các chỉ số khác cũng đạt yêu cầu (GFI = 0.965, TLI = 0.963, CFI = 0.974, RMSEA = 0.044). Do
đó, mơ hình tới hạn đạt được độ tương thích với dữ liệu thị trường. Các khái niệm đạt được giá
trị phân biệt do các hệ số tương quan và sai lệch chuẩn khác với 1. Các khái niệm đều đơn
hướng. Ngoài ra các trọng số đều đạt yêu cầu > 0.50. Do vậy, thang đo thuộc tính bán lẻ trực
tuyến đạt giá trị hội tụ. Như vậy, thang đo các thuộc tính bán lẻ trực tuyến đã được kiểm định và
đạt yêu cầu. Do đó, các giả thuyết đều được chấp nhận.
0.766

Tiện lợi
không
gian và
thời gian

0.742

0.619

Mua sắm không giới hạn thời gian (24g)

e

Mua hàng nhanh chóng

e

Mua hàng mọi nơi, khơng giới hạn khơng gian

e

Giao hàng miễn phí

e

Phí giao hàng thấp

e

Giao hàng tận nơi

e

Chất lượng hàng hóa

e

Thơng tin hàng hóa rõ ràng

e

Lựa chọn hàng hóa dễ dàng

e

Giá bán cố định, niêm yết rõ ràng

e

Trưng bày hàng hóa hấp dẫn, dễ tìm

e

0.269
0.785
0.153

Dịch vụ
giao
hàng

0.570

0.801

0.570
0.150

0.544

Hàng
hóa

0.191

0.310

0.981

0.805

0.704
Lựa chọn
hàng hóa
dễ dàng
0.606

Chi-square =59.536; df =38; p =.014
Chi-square/df =1.567;
GFI =.965; TLI =.963, CFI =.974; RMSEA =.044


old man who fished alone in a skiff in the Gulf Stream and he had gone eighty-four days now without taking a fish. In the first forty days a boy had been with him. But after forty days without a fish the boy’s parents had told him that the old man was now definitely and finally salao, which is the worst form of unlucky, and the boy had gone at their orders in another boat which caught three good fish the first week. It made the boy sad to see the old man come in each day with his skiff empty and he always went down to help him carry either the coiled lines or the gaff and harpoon and the sail that was furled around the mast. The sail was patched with flour sacks and, furled, it looked like the flag of permanent defeat. The old man was thin and gaunt with deep wrinkles in the back of his neck. The brown blotches of the benevolent skin cancer the sun brings from its [9] reflection on the tropic sea were on his cheeks. The blotches ran well down the sides of his face and his hands had the deep-creased scars from handling heavy fish on the cords. But none of these scars were fresh. They were as old as erosions in a fishless desert. Everything about him was old except his eyes and they were the same color as the sea and were cheerful and undefeated. “Santiago,” the boy said to him as they climbed the bank from

Nguyễn Thanh Minh. HCMCOUJS-Kinh tế và Quản trị kinh doanh, 19(2), …-…

e some money.” The old man had taught the boy to fish and the boy loved him. “No,” the old man said. “You’re with a lucky boat. Stay with them.” “But remember how you went eighty-seven days without fish and then we caught big ones every day for three weeks.” “I remember,” the old man said. “I know you did not leave me because you doubted.” “It was papa made me leave. I am a boy and I must obey him.” “I know,” the old man said. “It is quite normal.” “He hasn’t much faith.” [10] “No,” the old man said. “But we have. Haven’t we?” ‘Yes,” the boy said. “Can I offer you a beer on the Terrace and then we’ll take the stuff home.” “Why not?” the old man said. “Between fishermen.” They sat on the Terrace and many of the fishermen made fun of the old man and he was not angry. Others, of the older fishermen, looked at him and were sad. But they did not show it and they spoke politely about the current and the depths they had drifted their lines at and the steady good weather and of what they had seen. The successful fishermen of that day were already in and had butchered their marlin out and carried them laid full length across two planks, with two men Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea 2 staggering at the end of each plank, to the fish house where they waited for the ice truck to carry them to

to the shark factory on the other side of the cove where they were hoisted on a block and tackle, their livers removed, their fins cut off and their hides skinned out and their flesh cut into strips for salting. When the wind was in the east a smell came across the harbour from the shark factory; but today there [11] was only the faint edge of the odour because the wind had backed into the north and then dropped off and it was pleasant and sunny on the Terrace. “Santiago,” the boy said. “Yes,” the old man said. He was holding his glass and thinking of many years ago. “Can I go out to get sardines for you for tomorrow?” “No. Go and play baseball. I can still row and Rogelio will throw the net.” “I would like to go. If I cannot fish with you. I would like to serve in some way.” “You bought me a beer,” the old man said. “You are already a man.” “How old was I when you first took me in a boat?” “Five and you nearly were killed when I brought the fish in too green and he nearly tore the boat to pieces. Can you remember?” “I can remember the tail slapping and banging and the thwart breaking and the noise of the clubbing. I can remember you throwing me into the bow where the wet coiled lines were and feeling the whole boat shiver and the noise of you clubbing him like chopping a tree down and the sweet blood smell all ove

remember everything from when we first went together.” The old man looked at him with his sun-burned, confident loving eyes. “If you were my boy I’d take you out and gamble,” he said. “But you are your father’s and your mother’s and you are in a lucky boat.” “May I get the sardines? I know where I can get four baits too.” “I have mine left from today. I put them in salt in the box.” “Let me get four fresh ones.” “One,” the old man said. His hope and his confidence had never gone. But now they were freshening as when the breeze rises. “Two,” the boy said. “Two,” the old man agreed. “You didn’t steal them?” “I would,” the boy said. “But I bought these.” “Thank you,” the old man said. He was too simple to wonder when he had attained humility. But he [13] knew he had attained it and he knew it was not disgraceful and it carried no loss of true pride. “Tomorrow is going to be a good day with this current,” he said. “Where are you going?” the boy asked. “Far out to come in when the wind shifts. I want to be out before it is light.” “I’ll try to get him to work far out,” the boy said. “Then if you hook something truly big we can come to your aid.” “He does not like to work too far out.” “No,” the boy said. “But I will see something that he cannot see such as a bird working and get him to come out after dolphin.” “Are his eyes

Hình 1. Kết quả CFA

ver went turtle-ing. That is what kills the eyes.” “But you went turtle-ing for years off the Mosquito Coast and your eyes are good.” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea 3 “I am a strange old man” “But are you strong enough now for a truly big fish?” “I think so. And there are many tricks.” [14] “Let us take the stuff home,” the boy said. “So I can get the cast net and go after the sardines.” They picked up the gear from the boat. The old man carried the mast on his shoulder and the boy carried the wooden boat with the coiled, hard-braided brown lines, the gaff and the harpoon with its shaft. The box with the baits was under the stern of the skiff along with the club that was used to subdue the big fish when they were brought alongside. No one would steal from the old man but it was better to take the sail and the heavy lines home as the dew was bad for them and, though he was quite sure no local people would steal from him, the old man thought that a gaff and a harpoon were needless temptations to leave in a boat. They walked up the road together to the old man’s shack and went in through its open door. The old man leaned the mast with its wrapped sail against the wall and the boy put the box and the other gear beside it. The mast was nearly as long as the one room of the shack. The shack was

Nguồn: Nghiên cứu của tác giả

o and in it there was a bed, a table, one chair, and a place on the dirt floor to cook with charcoal. On the brown walls of the flattened, overlapping leaves of the sturdy fibered [15] guano there was a picture in color of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and another of the Virgin of Cobre. These were relics of his wife. Once there had been a tinted photograph of his wife on the wall but he had taken it down because it made him too lonely to see it and it was on the shelf in the corner under his clean shirt. “What do you have to eat?” the boy asked. “A pot of yellow rice with fish. Do you want some?” “No. I will eat at home. Do you want me to make the fire?” “No. I will make it later on. Or I may eat the rice cold.” “May I take the cast net?” “Of course.” There was no cast net and the boy remembered when they had sold it. But they went through this fiction every day. There was no pot of yellow rice and fish and the boy knew this too. “Eighty-five is a lucky number,” the old man said. “How would you like to see me bring one in that dressed out over a thousand pounds?” “I’ll get the cast net and go for sardines. Will you sit in the sun in the doorway?” [16] “Yes. I have yesterday’s paper and I will read the baseball.” The boy did not know whether yesterday’s paper was a fiction too. But the old man brought it out from under the bed.

have the sardines. I’ll keep yours and mine together on ice and we can share them in the morning. When I come back you can tell me about the baseball.” “The Yankees cannot lose.” “But I fear the Indians of Cleveland.” “Have faith in the Yankees my son. Think of the great DiMaggio.” “I fear both the Tigers of Detroit and the Indians of Cleveland.” “Be careful or you will fear even the Reds of Cincinnati and the White Sax of Chicago.” “You study it and tell me when I come back.” “Do you think we should buy a terminal of the lottery with an eighty-five? Tomorrow is the eighty-fifth day.” “We can do that,” the boy said. “But what about the eighty-seven of your great record?” [17] “It could not happen twice. Do you think you can find an eighty-five?” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea 4 “I can order one. “One sheet. That’s two dollars and a half. Who can we borrow that from?” “That’s easy. I can always borrow two dollars and a half.” “I think perhaps I can too. But I try not to borrow. First you borrow. Then you beg.” “Keep warm old man,” the boy said. “Remember we are in September.” “The month when the great fish come,” the old man said. “Anyone can be a fisherman in May.” “I go now for the sardines,” the boy said. When the boy came back the old man was asleep in the chair and the sun was down. T

Bảng 3

ck of the chair and over the old man’s shoulders. They were strange shoulders, still powerful although very old, and the neck was still strong too and the creases did not show so much when the old man was asleep and his head fallen forward. His shirt had been patched so many times that it was like the sail and the patches were faded to many different shades by the sun. The [18] old man’s head was very old though and with his eyes closed there was no life in his face. The newspaper lay across his knees and the weight of his arm held it there in the evening breeze. He was barefooted. The boy left him there and when he came back the old man was still asleep. “Wake up old man,” the boy said and put his hand on one of the old man’s knees. The old man opened his eyes and for a moment he was coming back from a long way away. Then he smiled. “What have you got?” he asked. “Supper,” said the boy. “We’re going to have supper.” “I’m not very hungry.” “Come on and eat. You can’t fish and not eat.” “I have,” the old man said getting up and taking the newspaper and folding it. Then he started to fold the blanket. “Keep the blanket around you,” the boy said. “You’ll not fish without eating while I’m alive.” “Then live a long time and take care of yourself,” the old man said. “What are we eating?” “Black beans a

Kết quả CFA

m in a two-decker metal container from the Terrace. The two sets of knives and forks and spoons were in his pocket with a paper napkin wrapped around each set. “Who gave this to you?” “Martin. The owner.” “I must thank him.” “I thanked him already,” the boy said. “You don’t need to thank him.” “I’ll give him the belly meat of a big fish,” the old man said. “Has he done this for us more than once?” “I think so.” “I must give him something more than the belly meat then. He is very thoughtful for us.” “He sent two beers.” “I like the beer in cans best.” “I know. But this is in bottles, Hatuey beer, and I take back the bottles.” “That’s very kind of you,” the old man said. “Should we eat?” “I’ve been asking you to,” the boy told him gently. “I have not wished to open the container until you were ready.” [20] “I’m ready now,” the old man said. “I only needed time to wash.” Where did you wash? the boy thought. The village water supply was two streets down the road. I must have water here for him, the boy thought, and soap and a good towel. Why am I so Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea 5 thoughtless? I must get him another shirt and a jacket for the winter and some sort of shoes and another blanket. “Your stew is excellent,” the old man said. “Tell me about the baseball,” the boy asked him. “In the American Leag

oday,” the boy told him. “That means nothing. The great DiMaggio is himself again.” “They have other men on the team.” “Naturally. But he makes the difference. In the other league, between Brooklyn and Philadelphia I must take Brooklyn. But then I think of Dick Sisler and those great drives In the old park.” “There was nothing ever like them. He hits the longest ball I have ever seen.” “Do you remember when he used to come to the Terrace?” [21] “I wanted to take him fishing but I was too timid to ask him. Then I asked you to ask him and you were too timid.” “I know. It was a great mistake. He might have gone with us. Then we would have that for all of our lives.” “I would like to take the great DiMaggio fishing,” the old man said. “They say his father was a fisherman. Maybe he was as poor as we are and would understand.” “The great Sisler’s father was never poor and he, the father, was playing in the Big Leagues when he was my age.” “When I was your age I was before the mast on a square rigged ship that ran to Africa and I have seen lions on the beaches in the evening.” “I know. You told me.” “Should we talk about Africa or about baseball?” “Baseball I think,” the boy said. “Tell me about the great John J. McGraw.” He said Jota for J. “He used to come to the Terrace sometimes too in the older days. But h

Số biến
quan sát

Độ tin cậy
tổng hợp

Phương sai
trích

s mind was on horses as well as baseball. At least he carried lists of [22] horses at all times in his pocket and frequently spoke the names of horses on the telephone.” “He was a great manager,” the boy said. “My father thinks he was the greatest.” “Because he came here the most times,” the old man said. “If Durocher had continued to come here each year your father would think him the greatest manager.” “Who is the greatest manager, really, Luque or Mike Gonzalez?” “I think they are equal.” “And the best fisherman is you.” “No. I know others better.” “Que Va,” the boy said. “There are many good fishermen and some great ones. But there is only you.” “Thank you. You make me happy. I hope no fish will come along so great that he will prove us wrong.” “There is no such fish if you are still strong as you say.” “I may not be as strong as I think,” the old man said. “But I know many tricks and I have resolution.” “You ought to go to bed now so that you will be fresh in the morning. I will take the things back to the Terrace.” [23] “Good night then. I will wake you in the morning.” “You’re my alarm clock,” the boy said. Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea 6 “Age is my alarm clock,” the old man said. “Why do old men wake so early? Is it to have one longer day?” “I don’t know,” the boy said. “All I know is that you

Khái niệm

’ll waken you in time.” “I do not like for him to waken me. It is as though I were inferior.” “I know.” “Sleep well old man.” The boy went out. They had eaten with no light on the table and the old man took off his trousers and went to bed in the dark. He rolled his trousers up to make a pillow, putting the newspaper inside them. He rolled himself in the blanket and slept on the other old newspapers that covered the springs of the bed. He was asleep in a short time and he dreamed of Africa when he was a boy and the long golden beaches and the white beaches, so white they hurt your eyes, and the high capes and the great brown mountains. He lived along that coast now every night and in his dreams he heard the surf roar and saw the native boats [24] come riding through it. He smelled the tar and oakum of the deck as he slept and he smelled the smell of Africa that the land breeze brought at morning. Usually when he smelled the land breeze he woke up and dressed to go and wake the boy. But tonight the smell of the land breeze came very early and he knew it was too early in his dream and went on dreaming to see the white peaks of the Islands rising from the sea and then he dreamed of the different harbours and roadsteads of the Canary Islands. He no longer dreamed of storms, nor of women, nor of grea

r of his wife. He only dreamed of places now and of the lions on the beach. They played like young cats in the dusk and he loved them as he loved the boy. He never dreamed about the boy. He simply woke, looked out the open door at the moon and unrolled his trousers and put them on. He urinated outside the shack and then went up the road to wake the boy. He was shivering with the morning cold. But he knew he would shiver himself warm and that soon he would be rowing. The door of the house where the boy lived was unlocked and he opened it and walked in quietly with his [25] bare feet. The boy was asleep on a cot in the first room and the old man could see him clearly with the light that came in from the dying moon. He took hold of one foot gently and held it until the boy woke and turned and looked at him. The old man nodded and the boy took his trousers from the chair by the bed and, sitting on the bed, pulled them on. The old man went out the door and the boy came after him. He was sleepy and the old man put his arm across his shoulders and said, “I am sorry.” “Qua Va,” the boy said. “It is what a man must do.” They walked down the road to the old man’s shack and all along the road, in the dark, barefoot men were moving, carrying the masts of their boats. When they reached the old man’

Dịch vụ giao hàng

3

0.766342709

0.718666667

Tiện lợi khơng gian và thời gian

3

0.753563333

0.506827

Lựa chọn hàng hóa dễ dàng

3

0.750245541

0.705

Hàng hóa

2

0.758192472

0.7625

d gaff and the old man carried the mast with the furled sail on his shoulder. “Do you want coffee?” the boy asked. “We’ll put the gear in the boat and then get some.” They had coffee from condensed milk cans at an early morning place that served fishermen. “How did you sleep old man?” the boy asked. He [26] was waking up now although it was still hard for him to leave his sleep. “Very well, Manolin,” the old man said. “I feel confident today.” “So do I,” the boy said. “Now I must get your sardines and mine and your fresh baits. He brings our gear himself. He never wants anyone to carry anything.” “We’re different,” the old man said. “I let you carry things when you were five years old.”

Nguồn: Nghiên cứu của tác giả

Bảng 4
Mối quan hệ giữa các thuộc tính
Estimate

SE=SQRT
((1-r2_/(n-2))

CR=(1-r)/SE

P-value

Tiện lợi
khơng gian
và thời gian

<->

Dịch vụ giao
hàng

0.269

0.056951673

12.83544

0.0000000000000

Tiện lợi
khơng gian
và thời gian

<->

Hàng hóa

0.153

0.05843504

14.49473

0.0000000000000

Tiện lợi

khơng gian
và thời gian

<->

Lựa chọn hàng
hóa dễ dàng

0.57

0.048584869

8.850492

0.0000000000000

Dịch vụ
giao hàng

<->

Hàng hóa

0.15

0.058462229

14.5393

0.0000000000000

Dịch vụ
giao hàng

<->

Lựa chọn hàng
hóa dễ dàng

0.191

0.058042636

13.93803

0.0000000000000

Hàng hóa

<->

Lựa chọn hàng
hóa dễ dàng

0.31

0.056218231

12.2736

0.0000000000000

Nguồn: Nghiên cứu của tác giả

4.3. Thảo luận
Mục tiêu thứ hai là so sánh kết quả nghiên cứu với các kết quả của nghiên cứu trước
đây: Dịch vụ giao hàng/Giao hàng tiện lợi là thuộc tính bán lẻ trực tuyến ở Việt Nam và kết
quả này có sự khác biệt so với các nghiên cứu trước. Các dịch vụ giao hàng thường dùng
những nhân viên giao hàng dùng xe máy nên họ có thể đi khắp nơi, tới bất cứ nơi đâu do
tính tiện lợi của phương tiện cá nhân với chi phí giao hàng thấp. Sebastianelli và Tamimi
(2013) đề nghị giao hàng cũng là thuộc tính bán lẻ trực tuyến nhưng giao hàng ở đây là tiện
lợi về việc có thể kiểm tra vị trí hàng hóa.
Tiện lợi khơng gian và tiện lợi thời gian được xác định là thuộc tính bán lẻ trực tuyến ở
Việt Nam. Khi mua hàng hóa online, người mua khơng cần phải đi tới các cửa hàng. Họ có thể
đặt hàng tại nhà và được giao hàng tại nơi họ mong muốn. Tiện lợi thời gian là sự tiện lợi khi


old man who fished alone in a skiff in the Gulf Stream and he had gone eighty-four days now without taking a fish. In the first forty days a boy had been with him. But after forty days without a fish the boy’s parents had told him that the old man was now definitely and finally salao, which is the worst form of unlucky, and the boy had gone at their orders in another boat which caught three good fish the first week. It made the boy sad to see the old man come in each day with his skiff empty and he always went down to help him carry either the coiled lines or the gaff and harpoon and the sail that was furled around the mast. The sail was patched with flour sacks and, furled, it looked like the flag of permanent defeat. The old man was thin and gaunt with deep wrinkles in the back of his neck. The brown blotches of the benevolent skin cancer the sun brings from its [9] reflection on the tropic sea were on his cheeks. The blotches ran well down the sides of his face and his hands had the deep-creased scars from handling heavy fish on the cords. But none of these scars were fresh. They were as old as erosions in a fishless desert. Everything about him was old except his eyes and they were the same color as the sea and were cheerful and undefeated. “Santiago,” the boy said to him as they climbed the bank from

Nguyễn Thanh Minh. HCMCOUJS-Kinh tế và Quản trị kinh doanh, 19(2), …-…

e some money.” The old man had taught the boy to fish and the boy loved him. “No,” the old man said. “You’re with a lucky boat. Stay with them.” “But remember how you went eighty-seven days without fish and then we caught big ones every day for three weeks.” “I remember,” the old man said. “I know you did not leave me because you doubted.” “It was papa made me leave. I am a boy and I must obey him.” “I know,” the old man said. “It is quite normal.” “He hasn’t much faith.” [10] “No,” the old man said. “But we have. Haven’t we?” ‘Yes,” the boy said. “Can I offer you a beer on the Terrace and then we’ll take the stuff home.” “Why not?” the old man said. “Between fishermen.” They sat on the Terrace and many of the fishermen made fun of the old man and he was not angry. Others, of the older fishermen, looked at him and were sad. But they did not show it and they spoke politely about the current and the depths they had drifted their lines at and the steady good weather and of what they had seen. The successful fishermen of that day were already in and had butchered their marlin out and carried them laid full length across two planks, with two men Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea 2 staggering at the end of each plank, to the fish house where they waited for the ice truck to carry them to

to the shark factory on the other side of the cove where they were hoisted on a block and tackle, their livers removed, their fins cut off and their hides skinned out and their flesh cut into strips for salting. When the wind was in the east a smell came across the harbour from the shark factory; but today there [11] was only the faint edge of the odour because the wind had backed into the north and then dropped off and it was pleasant and sunny on the Terrace. “Santiago,” the boy said. “Yes,” the old man said. He was holding his glass and thinking of many years ago. “Can I go out to get sardines for you for tomorrow?” “No. Go and play baseball. I can still row and Rogelio will throw the net.” “I would like to go. If I cannot fish with you. I would like to serve in some way.” “You bought me a beer,” the old man said. “You are already a man.” “How old was I when you first took me in a boat?” “Five and you nearly were killed when I brought the fish in too green and he nearly tore the boat to pieces. Can you remember?” “I can remember the tail slapping and banging and the thwart breaking and the noise of the clubbing. I can remember you throwing me into the bow where the wet coiled lines were and feeling the whole boat shiver and the noise of you clubbing him like chopping a tree down and the sweet blood smell all ove

remember everything from when we first went together.” The old man looked at him with his sun-burned, confident loving eyes. “If you were my boy I’d take you out and gamble,” he said. “But you are your father’s and your mother’s and you are in a lucky boat.” “May I get the sardines? I know where I can get four baits too.” “I have mine left from today. I put them in salt in the box.” “Let me get four fresh ones.” “One,” the old man said. His hope and his confidence had never gone. But now they were freshening as when the breeze rises. “Two,” the boy said. “Two,” the old man agreed. “You didn’t steal them?” “I would,” the boy said. “But I bought these.” “Thank you,” the old man said. He was too simple to wonder when he had attained humility. But he [13] knew he had attained it and he knew it was not disgraceful and it carried no loss of true pride. “Tomorrow is going to be a good day with this current,” he said. “Where are you going?” the boy asked. “Far out to come in when the wind shifts. I want to be out before it is light.” “I’ll try to get him to work far out,” the boy said. “Then if you hook something truly big we can come to your aid.” “He does not like to work too far out.” “No,” the boy said. “But I will see something that he cannot see such as a bird working and get him to come out after dolphin.” “Are his eyes

người mua có thể mua bất cứ lúc nào trong ngày. Thuộc tính Tiện lợi không gian và thời gian
được nghiên cứu rộng rãi nhưng các nghiên cứu chỉ được thực hiện cho các kênh bán lẻ vật lý.
Các nghiên cứu về thuộc tính này cho kênh trực tuyến thì rất hạn chế. Trong nghiên cứu về kênh

trực tuyến, Chung và Shin (2008) có nghiên cứu về thuộc tính tiện lợi thời gian mua sắm nhưng
thuộc tính thời gian này lại là ít tốn thời gian khi mua sắm trên website.

ver went turtle-ing. That is what kills the eyes.” “But you went turtle-ing for years off the Mosquito Coast and your eyes are good.” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea 3 “I am a strange old man” “But are you strong enough now for a truly big fish?” “I think so. And there are many tricks.” [14] “Let us take the stuff home,” the boy said. “So I can get the cast net and go after the sardines.” They picked up the gear from the boat. The old man carried the mast on his shoulder and the boy carried the wooden boat with the coiled, hard-braided brown lines, the gaff and the harpoon with its shaft. The box with the baits was under the stern of the skiff along with the club that was used to subdue the big fish when they were brought alongside. No one would steal from the old man but it was better to take the sail and the heavy lines home as the dew was bad for them and, though he was quite sure no local people would steal from him, the old man thought that a gaff and a harpoon were needless temptations to leave in a boat. They walked up the road together to the old man’s shack and went in through its open door. The old man leaned the mast with its wrapped sail against the wall and the boy put the box and the other gear beside it. The mast was nearly as long as the one room of the shack. The shack was

o and in it there was a bed, a table, one chair, and a place on the dirt floor to cook with charcoal. On the brown walls of the flattened, overlapping leaves of the sturdy fibered [15] guano there was a picture in color of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and another of the Virgin of Cobre. These were relics of his wife. Once there had been a tinted photograph of his wife on the wall but he had taken it down because it made him too lonely to see it and it was on the shelf in the corner under his clean shirt. “What do you have to eat?” the boy asked. “A pot of yellow rice with fish. Do you want some?” “No. I will eat at home. Do you want me to make the fire?” “No. I will make it later on. Or I may eat the rice cold.” “May I take the cast net?” “Of course.” There was no cast net and the boy remembered when they had sold it. But they went through this fiction every day. There was no pot of yellow rice and fish and the boy knew this too. “Eighty-five is a lucky number,” the old man said. “How would you like to see me bring one in that dressed out over a thousand pounds?” “I’ll get the cast net and go for sardines. Will you sit in the sun in the doorway?” [16] “Yes. I have yesterday’s paper and I will read the baseball.” The boy did not know whether yesterday’s paper was a fiction too. But the old man brought it out from under the bed.

have the sardines. I’ll keep yours and mine together on ice and we can share them in the morning. When I come back you can tell me about the baseball.” “The Yankees cannot lose.” “But I fear the Indians of Cleveland.” “Have faith in the Yankees my son. Think of the great DiMaggio.” “I fear both the Tigers of Detroit and the Indians of Cleveland.” “Be careful or you will fear even the Reds of Cincinnati and the White Sax of Chicago.” “You study it and tell me when I come back.” “Do you think we should buy a terminal of the lottery with an eighty-five? Tomorrow is the eighty-fifth day.” “We can do that,” the boy said. “But what about the eighty-seven of your great record?” [17] “It could not happen twice. Do you think you can find an eighty-five?” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea 4 “I can order one. “One sheet. That’s two dollars and a half. Who can we borrow that from?” “That’s easy. I can always borrow two dollars and a half.” “I think perhaps I can too. But I try not to borrow. First you borrow. Then you beg.” “Keep warm old man,” the boy said. “Remember we are in September.” “The month when the great fish come,” the old man said. “Anyone can be a fisherman in May.” “I go now for the sardines,” the boy said. When the boy came back the old man was asleep in the chair and the sun was down. T

ck of the chair and over the old man’s shoulders. They were strange shoulders, still powerful although very old, and the neck was still strong too and the creases did not show so much when the old man was asleep and his head fallen forward. His shirt had been patched so many times that it was like the sail and the patches were faded to many different shades by the sun. The [18] old man’s head was very old though and with his eyes closed there was no life in his face. The newspaper lay across his knees and the weight of his arm held it there in the evening breeze. He was barefooted. The boy left him there and when he came back the old man was still asleep. “Wake up old man,” the boy said and put his hand on one of the old man’s knees. The old man opened his eyes and for a moment he was coming back from a long way away. Then he smiled. “What have you got?” he asked. “Supper,” said the boy. “We’re going to have supper.” “I’m not very hungry.” “Come on and eat. You can’t fish and not eat.” “I have,” the old man said getting up and taking the newspaper and folding it. Then he started to fold the blanket. “Keep the blanket around you,” the boy said. “You’ll not fish without eating while I’m alive.” “Then live a long time and take care of yourself,” the old man said. “What are we eating?” “Black beans a

m in a two-decker metal container from the Terrace. The two sets of knives and forks and spoons were in his pocket with a paper napkin wrapped around each set. “Who gave this to you?” “Martin. The owner.” “I must thank him.” “I thanked him already,” the boy said. “You don’t need to thank him.” “I’ll give him the belly meat of a big fish,” the old man said. “Has he done this for us more than once?” “I think so.” “I must give him something more than the belly meat then. He is very thoughtful for us.” “He sent two beers.” “I like the beer in cans best.” “I know. But this is in bottles, Hatuey beer, and I take back the bottles.” “That’s very kind of you,” the old man said. “Should we eat?” “I’ve been asking you to,” the boy told him gently. “I have not wished to open the container until you were ready.” [20] “I’m ready now,” the old man said. “I only needed time to wash.” Where did you wash? the boy thought. The village water supply was two streets down the road. I must have water here for him, the boy thought, and soap and a good towel. Why am I so Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea 5 thoughtless? I must get him another shirt and a jacket for the winter and some sort of shoes and another blanket. “Your stew is excellent,” the old man said. “Tell me about the baseball,” the boy asked him. “In the American Leag

oday,” the boy told him. “That means nothing. The great DiMaggio is himself again.” “They have other men on the team.” “Naturally. But he makes the difference. In the other league, between Brooklyn and Philadelphia I must take Brooklyn. But then I think of Dick Sisler and those great drives In the old park.” “There was nothing ever like them. He hits the longest ball I have ever seen.” “Do you remember when he used to come to the Terrace?” [21] “I wanted to take him fishing but I was too timid to ask him. Then I asked you to ask him and you were too timid.” “I know. It was a great mistake. He might have gone with us. Then we would have that for all of our lives.” “I would like to take the great DiMaggio fishing,” the old man said. “They say his father was a fisherman. Maybe he was as poor as we are and would understand.” “The great Sisler’s father was never poor and he, the father, was playing in the Big Leagues when he was my age.” “When I was your age I was before the mast on a square rigged ship that ran to Africa and I have seen lions on the beaches in the evening.” “I know. You told me.” “Should we talk about Africa or about baseball?” “Baseball I think,” the boy said. “Tell me about the great John J. McGraw.” He said Jota for J. “He used to come to the Terrace sometimes too in the older days. But h

Lựa chọn hàng hóa dễ dàng được xác định là thuộc tính bán lẻ trực tuyến. Người mua
sắm có thể lựa chọn hàng hóa được liệt kê trên các trang website thương mại điện tử hoặc các
ứng dụng mua sắm của các sàn thương mại điện tử. Ngồi ra, các nhà bán lẻ này cịn dựa trên
các thông tin mua sắm trước đây để hiển thị các món hàng mà họ quan tâm hoặc liên quan món
hàng mà họ đã mua trước đây. Các hình ảnh sản phẩm được xử lý làm nổi bật, đẹp mắt. Ngoài ra,
người mua không cần phải trả giá với người bán như ở chợ truyền thống vì các món hàng đã có
mức giá rõ ràng. Thuộc tính bán lẻ lựa chọn hàng hóa trực tuyến dễ dàng này đã được Roy
Ghatak và cộng sự (2016) và Chung và Shin (2008) đề nghị trước đây.

s mind was on horses as well as baseball. At least he carried lists of [22] horses at all times in his pocket and frequently spoke the names of horses on the telephone.” “He was a great manager,” the boy said. “My father thinks he was the greatest.” “Because he came here the most times,” the old man said. “If Durocher had continued to come here each year your father would think him the greatest manager.” “Who is the greatest manager, really, Luque or Mike Gonzalez?” “I think they are equal.” “And the best fisherman is you.” “No. I know others better.” “Que Va,” the boy said. “There are many good fishermen and some great ones. But there is only you.” “Thank you. You make me happy. I hope no fish will come along so great that he will prove us wrong.” “There is no such fish if you are still strong as you say.” “I may not be as strong as I think,” the old man said. “But I know many tricks and I have resolution.” “You ought to go to bed now so that you will be fresh in the morning. I will take the things back to the Terrace.” [23] “Good night then. I will wake you in the morning.” “You’re my alarm clock,” the boy said. Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea 6 “Age is my alarm clock,” the old man said. “Why do old men wake so early? Is it to have one longer day?” “I don’t know,” the boy said. “All I know is that you

’ll waken you in time.” “I do not like for him to waken me. It is as though I were inferior.” “I know.” “Sleep well old man.” The boy went out. They had eaten with no light on the table and the old man took off his trousers and went to bed in the dark. He rolled his trousers up to make a pillow, putting the newspaper inside them. He rolled himself in the blanket and slept on the other old newspapers that covered the springs of the bed. He was asleep in a short time and he dreamed of Africa when he was a boy and the long golden beaches and the white beaches, so white they hurt your eyes, and the high capes and the great brown mountains. He lived along that coast now every night and in his dreams he heard the surf roar and saw the native boats [24] come riding through it. He smelled the tar and oakum of the deck as he slept and he smelled the smell of Africa that the land breeze brought at morning. Usually when he smelled the land breeze he woke up and dressed to go and wake the boy. But tonight the smell of the land breeze came very early and he knew it was too early in his dream and went on dreaming to see the white peaks of the Islands rising from the sea and then he dreamed of the different harbours and roadsteads of the Canary Islands. He no longer dreamed of storms, nor of women, nor of grea

r of his wife. He only dreamed of places now and of the lions on the beach. They played like young cats in the dusk and he loved them as he loved the boy. He never dreamed about the boy. He simply woke, looked out the open door at the moon and unrolled his trousers and put them on. He urinated outside the shack and then went up the road to wake the boy. He was shivering with the morning cold. But he knew he would shiver himself warm and that soon he would be rowing. The door of the house where the boy lived was unlocked and he opened it and walked in quietly with his [25] bare feet. The boy was asleep on a cot in the first room and the old man could see him clearly with the light that came in from the dying moon. He took hold of one foot gently and held it until the boy woke and turned and looked at him. The old man nodded and the boy took his trousers from the chair by the bed and, sitting on the bed, pulled them on. The old man went out the door and the boy came after him. He was sleepy and the old man put his arm across his shoulders and said, “I am sorry.” “Qua Va,” the boy said. “It is what a man must do.” They walked down the road to the old man’s shack and all along the road, in the dark, barefoot men were moving, carrying the masts of their boats. When they reached the old man’

d gaff and the old man carried the mast with the furled sail on his shoulder. “Do you want coffee?” the boy asked. “We’ll put the gear in the boat and then get some.” They had coffee from condensed milk cans at an early morning place that served fishermen. “How did you sleep old man?” the boy asked. He [26] was waking up now although it was still hard for him to leave his sleep. “Very well, Manolin,” the old man said. “I feel confident today.” “So do I,” the boy said. “Now I must get your sardines and mine and your fresh baits. He brings our gear himself. He never wants anyone to carry anything.” “We’re different,” the old man said. “I let you carry things when you were five years old.”

Hàng hóa là thuộc tính của kênh bán lẻ online. Các sàn thương mại điện tử có yêu cầu
các người bán phải có các thơng tin về món hàng. Và ngồi ra, chất lượng hàng hóa cũng là yếu
tố quan trọng của thuộc tính hàng hóa này. Thuộc tính hàng hóa được nghiên cứu nhiều nhưng
chỉ cho các kênh bán lẻ vật lý. Đối với kênh trực tuyến thì chưa được nghiên cứu. Kotni (2017)
có đề xuất thuộc tính bán lẻ trực tuyến là hàng hóa. Nhưng thuộc tính Hàng hóa của Kotni (2017)
có ý nghĩa là hàng hóa đa dạng khác với thuộc tính Hàng hóa là thơng tin và chất lượng hàng
hóa.
5. Kết luận & gợi ý
5.1. Kết luận
Nghiên cứu đã hoàn thành ba mục tiêu. (1) Nghiên cứu đã xác định 04 thuộc tính của
kênh bán lẻ trực tuyến là website thương mại điện tử/Sàn thương mại điện tử tại Việt Nam: Giao
hàng tiện lợi, Tiện lợi không gian và thời gian, Lựa chọn hàng hóa dễ dàng và Hàng hóa. (2)
Nghiên cứu đã so sánh thuộc tính bán lẻ của kênh bán lẻ trực tuyến ở Việt Nam với các thuộc
tính của kênh bán lẻ trực tuyến ở các nước khác. (3) Các khuyến nghị cho các nhà bán lẻ trực
tuyến được đề xuất như sau.
5.2. Khuyến nghị
5.2.1. Khuyến nghị cho các nhà bán lẻ
Từ nghiên cứu này, các nhà bán lẻ trực tuyến ở Việt Nam có thể tập trung hơn vào 04
thuộc tính bán lẻ trong nghiên cứu này vì đây là các thuộc tính bán lẻ trực tuyến quan trọng ở thị
trường Việt Nam. Đối với thuộc tính Dịch vụ giao hàng, các nhà quản trị nên tìm cách tăng sự
tiện lợi hơn trong việc giao hàng và giảm chi phí giao hàng. Trong lĩnh vực logistics thì việc ứng
dụng cơng nghệ có thể giúp làm việc giao hàng tiện lợi hơn và chi phí có thể giảm hơn được nữa.
Đối với thuộc tính Tiện lợi không gian và thời gian, nghiên cứu này đã xác định đây là thuộc tính
quan trọng của website thương mại điện tử/sàn thương mại điện tử. So với các kênh mua sắm
truyền thống thì tiện lợi khơng gian và thời gian là thuộc tính bán lẻ quan trọng (Nguyen & ctg.,
2019). Còn đối với website thương mại điện tử/sàn thương mại điện tử thì các thuộc tính này có
thể mang lại sự tiện lợi cao hơn nữa khi người tiêu dùng không phải đi ra khỏi nhà mà vẫn có thể
mua được sản phẩm và khơng phải đợi cửa hàng mở cửa mà có thể mua bất cứ thời điểm nào

trong ngày. Do đó, các nhà bán lẻ nên tìm hiểu xem người mua sắm đã hài lịng với thuộc tính
này hay chưa để tìm cách cải thiện. Đối với thuộc tính Lựa chọn hàng hóa dễ dàng các nhà bán lẻ
nên tiếp tục nghiên cứu hành vi mua sắm trực tuyến của người tiêu dùng như các keywords mà
họ sử dụng để tìm kiếm hàng hóa, thời gian họ xem một sản phẩm, … để đề xuất/trình bày
những món hàng mà phù hợp nhất. Đối với thuộc tính Hàng hóa thì hàng hóa được bán trên
website thương mại điện tử/sàn thương mại điện tử cần đảm bảo chất lượng. Nhiều đáp viên
trong nghiên cứu định tính có ý kiến về chất lượng hàng hóa chưa được đảm bảo. Nhà bán lẻ cần


old man who fished alone in a skiff in the Gulf Stream and he had gone eighty-four days now without taking a fish. In the first forty days a boy had been with him. But after forty days without a fish the boy’s parents had told him that the old man was now definitely and finally salao, which is the worst form of unlucky, and the boy had gone at their orders in another boat which caught three good fish the first week. It made the boy sad to see the old man come in each day with his skiff empty and he always went down to help him carry either the coiled lines or the gaff and harpoon and the sail that was furled around the mast. The sail was patched with flour sacks and, furled, it looked like the flag of permanent defeat. The old man was thin and gaunt with deep wrinkles in the back of his neck. The brown blotches of the benevolent skin cancer the sun brings from its [9] reflection on the tropic sea were on his cheeks. The blotches ran well down the sides of his face and his hands had the deep-creased scars from handling heavy fish on the cords. But none of these scars were fresh. They were as old as erosions in a fishless desert. Everything about him was old except his eyes and they were the same color as the sea and were cheerful and undefeated. “Santiago,” the boy said to him as they climbed the bank from

Nguyễn Thanh Minh. HCMCOUJS-Kinh tế và Quản trị kinh doanh, 19(2), …-…

e some money.” The old man had taught the boy to fish and the boy loved him. “No,” the old man said. “You’re with a lucky boat. Stay with them.” “But remember how you went eighty-seven days without fish and then we caught big ones every day for three weeks.” “I remember,” the old man said. “I know you did not leave me because you doubted.” “It was papa made me leave. I am a boy and I must obey him.” “I know,” the old man said. “It is quite normal.” “He hasn’t much faith.” [10] “No,” the old man said. “But we have. Haven’t we?” ‘Yes,” the boy said. “Can I offer you a beer on the Terrace and then we’ll take the stuff home.” “Why not?” the old man said. “Between fishermen.” They sat on the Terrace and many of the fishermen made fun of the old man and he was not angry. Others, of the older fishermen, looked at him and were sad. But they did not show it and they spoke politely about the current and the depths they had drifted their lines at and the steady good weather and of what they had seen. The successful fishermen of that day were already in and had butchered their marlin out and carried them laid full length across two planks, with two men Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea 2 staggering at the end of each plank, to the fish house where they waited for the ice truck to carry them to

to the shark factory on the other side of the cove where they were hoisted on a block and tackle, their livers removed, their fins cut off and their hides skinned out and their flesh cut into strips for salting. When the wind was in the east a smell came across the harbour from the shark factory; but today there [11] was only the faint edge of the odour because the wind had backed into the north and then dropped off and it was pleasant and sunny on the Terrace. “Santiago,” the boy said. “Yes,” the old man said. He was holding his glass and thinking of many years ago. “Can I go out to get sardines for you for tomorrow?” “No. Go and play baseball. I can still row and Rogelio will throw the net.” “I would like to go. If I cannot fish with you. I would like to serve in some way.” “You bought me a beer,” the old man said. “You are already a man.” “How old was I when you first took me in a boat?” “Five and you nearly were killed when I brought the fish in too green and he nearly tore the boat to pieces. Can you remember?” “I can remember the tail slapping and banging and the thwart breaking and the noise of the clubbing. I can remember you throwing me into the bow where the wet coiled lines were and feeling the whole boat shiver and the noise of you clubbing him like chopping a tree down and the sweet blood smell all ove

remember everything from when we first went together.” The old man looked at him with his sun-burned, confident loving eyes. “If you were my boy I’d take you out and gamble,” he said. “But you are your father’s and your mother’s and you are in a lucky boat.” “May I get the sardines? I know where I can get four baits too.” “I have mine left from today. I put them in salt in the box.” “Let me get four fresh ones.” “One,” the old man said. His hope and his confidence had never gone. But now they were freshening as when the breeze rises. “Two,” the boy said. “Two,” the old man agreed. “You didn’t steal them?” “I would,” the boy said. “But I bought these.” “Thank you,” the old man said. He was too simple to wonder when he had attained humility. But he [13] knew he had attained it and he knew it was not disgraceful and it carried no loss of true pride. “Tomorrow is going to be a good day with this current,” he said. “Where are you going?” the boy asked. “Far out to come in when the wind shifts. I want to be out before it is light.” “I’ll try to get him to work far out,” the boy said. “Then if you hook something truly big we can come to your aid.” “He does not like to work too far out.” “No,” the boy said. “But I will see something that he cannot see such as a bird working and get him to come out after dolphin.” “Are his eyes

có kiểm tra chất lượng hàng hóa được bán trên website thương mại điện tử/sàn thương mại điện
tử. Ngồi ra, nhà bán lẻ cần tìm hiểu thêm người mua cịn cần thêm các loại thơng tin hàng hóa
nào mà trên sàn/website của họ chưa cung cấp để có thể cung cấp.

ver went turtle-ing. That is what kills the eyes.” “But you went turtle-ing for years off the Mosquito Coast and your eyes are good.” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea 3 “I am a strange old man” “But are you strong enough now for a truly big fish?” “I think so. And there are many tricks.” [14] “Let us take the stuff home,” the boy said. “So I can get the cast net and go after the sardines.” They picked up the gear from the boat. The old man carried the mast on his shoulder and the boy carried the wooden boat with the coiled, hard-braided brown lines, the gaff and the harpoon with its shaft. The box with the baits was under the stern of the skiff along with the club that was used to subdue the big fish when they were brought alongside. No one would steal from the old man but it was better to take the sail and the heavy lines home as the dew was bad for them and, though he was quite sure no local people would steal from him, the old man thought that a gaff and a harpoon were needless temptations to leave in a boat. They walked up the road together to the old man’s shack and went in through its open door. The old man leaned the mast with its wrapped sail against the wall and the boy put the box and the other gear beside it. The mast was nearly as long as the one room of the shack. The shack was

o and in it there was a bed, a table, one chair, and a place on the dirt floor to cook with charcoal. On the brown walls of the flattened, overlapping leaves of the sturdy fibered [15] guano there was a picture in color of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and another of the Virgin of Cobre. These were relics of his wife. Once there had been a tinted photograph of his wife on the wall but he had taken it down because it made him too lonely to see it and it was on the shelf in the corner under his clean shirt. “What do you have to eat?” the boy asked. “A pot of yellow rice with fish. Do you want some?” “No. I will eat at home. Do you want me to make the fire?” “No. I will make it later on. Or I may eat the rice cold.” “May I take the cast net?” “Of course.” There was no cast net and the boy remembered when they had sold it. But they went through this fiction every day. There was no pot of yellow rice and fish and the boy knew this too. “Eighty-five is a lucky number,” the old man said. “How would you like to see me bring one in that dressed out over a thousand pounds?” “I’ll get the cast net and go for sardines. Will you sit in the sun in the doorway?” [16] “Yes. I have yesterday’s paper and I will read the baseball.” The boy did not know whether yesterday’s paper was a fiction too. But the old man brought it out from under the bed.

have the sardines. I’ll keep yours and mine together on ice and we can share them in the morning. When I come back you can tell me about the baseball.” “The Yankees cannot lose.” “But I fear the Indians of Cleveland.” “Have faith in the Yankees my son. Think of the great DiMaggio.” “I fear both the Tigers of Detroit and the Indians of Cleveland.” “Be careful or you will fear even the Reds of Cincinnati and the White Sax of Chicago.” “You study it and tell me when I come back.” “Do you think we should buy a terminal of the lottery with an eighty-five? Tomorrow is the eighty-fifth day.” “We can do that,” the boy said. “But what about the eighty-seven of your great record?” [17] “It could not happen twice. Do you think you can find an eighty-five?” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea 4 “I can order one. “One sheet. That’s two dollars and a half. Who can we borrow that from?” “That’s easy. I can always borrow two dollars and a half.” “I think perhaps I can too. But I try not to borrow. First you borrow. Then you beg.” “Keep warm old man,” the boy said. “Remember we are in September.” “The month when the great fish come,” the old man said. “Anyone can be a fisherman in May.” “I go now for the sardines,” the boy said. When the boy came back the old man was asleep in the chair and the sun was down. T

ck of the chair and over the old man’s shoulders. They were strange shoulders, still powerful although very old, and the neck was still strong too and the creases did not show so much when the old man was asleep and his head fallen forward. His shirt had been patched so many times that it was like the sail and the patches were faded to many different shades by the sun. The [18] old man’s head was very old though and with his eyes closed there was no life in his face. The newspaper lay across his knees and the weight of his arm held it there in the evening breeze. He was barefooted. The boy left him there and when he came back the old man was still asleep. “Wake up old man,” the boy said and put his hand on one of the old man’s knees. The old man opened his eyes and for a moment he was coming back from a long way away. Then he smiled. “What have you got?” he asked. “Supper,” said the boy. “We’re going to have supper.” “I’m not very hungry.” “Come on and eat. You can’t fish and not eat.” “I have,” the old man said getting up and taking the newspaper and folding it. Then he started to fold the blanket. “Keep the blanket around you,” the boy said. “You’ll not fish without eating while I’m alive.” “Then live a long time and take care of yourself,” the old man said. “What are we eating?” “Black beans a

5.2.2. Hạn chế và hướng nghiên cứu tiếp theo

m in a two-decker metal container from the Terrace. The two sets of knives and forks and spoons were in his pocket with a paper napkin wrapped around each set. “Who gave this to you?” “Martin. The owner.” “I must thank him.” “I thanked him already,” the boy said. “You don’t need to thank him.” “I’ll give him the belly meat of a big fish,” the old man said. “Has he done this for us more than once?” “I think so.” “I must give him something more than the belly meat then. He is very thoughtful for us.” “He sent two beers.” “I like the beer in cans best.” “I know. But this is in bottles, Hatuey beer, and I take back the bottles.” “That’s very kind of you,” the old man said. “Should we eat?” “I’ve been asking you to,” the boy told him gently. “I have not wished to open the container until you were ready.” [20] “I’m ready now,” the old man said. “I only needed time to wash.” Where did you wash? the boy thought. The village water supply was two streets down the road. I must have water here for him, the boy thought, and soap and a good towel. Why am I so Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea 5 thoughtless? I must get him another shirt and a jacket for the winter and some sort of shoes and another blanket. “Your stew is excellent,” the old man said. “Tell me about the baseball,” the boy asked him. “In the American Leag

Trong nghiên cứu tiếp theo, các kênh bán lẻ trực tuyến qua ứng dụng mua sắm và mạng
xã hội sẽ được nghiên cứu để làm hoàn thiện hơn các hiểu biết về thuộc tính của kênh bán lẻ trực
tuyến. Do kích cỡ mẫu trong nghiên cứu này có số lượng khơng lớn nên trong nghiên cứu tiếp
theo, kích cỡ mẫu sẽ được tăng lên để làm tăng tính đại diện của mẫu. Ngoài ra, do hạn chế về
nguồn lực nên có thể chưa nghiên cứu được tất cả các thuộc tính bán lẻ trực tuyến của các
website thương mại điện tử/sàn thương mại điện tử. Do đó, các nghiên cứu tiếp theo sẽ giải quyết
các hạn chế này.

oday,” the boy told him. “That means nothing. The great DiMaggio is himself again.” “They have other men on the team.” “Naturally. But he makes the difference. In the other league, between Brooklyn and Philadelphia I must take Brooklyn. But then I think of Dick Sisler and those great drives In the old park.” “There was nothing ever like them. He hits the longest ball I have ever seen.” “Do you remember when he used to come to the Terrace?” [21] “I wanted to take him fishing but I was too timid to ask him. Then I asked you to ask him and you were too timid.” “I know. It was a great mistake. He might have gone with us. Then we would have that for all of our lives.” “I would like to take the great DiMaggio fishing,” the old man said. “They say his father was a fisherman. Maybe he was as poor as we are and would understand.” “The great Sisler’s father was never poor and he, the father, was playing in the Big Leagues when he was my age.” “When I was your age I was before the mast on a square rigged ship that ran to Africa and I have seen lions on the beaches in the evening.” “I know. You told me.” “Should we talk about Africa or about baseball?” “Baseball I think,” the boy said. “Tell me about the great John J. McGraw.” He said Jota for J. “He used to come to the Terrace sometimes too in the older days. But h

s mind was on horses as well as baseball. At least he carried lists of [22] horses at all times in his pocket and frequently spoke the names of horses on the telephone.” “He was a great manager,” the boy said. “My father thinks he was the greatest.” “Because he came here the most times,” the old man said. “If Durocher had continued to come here each year your father would think him the greatest manager.” “Who is the greatest manager, really, Luque or Mike Gonzalez?” “I think they are equal.” “And the best fisherman is you.” “No. I know others better.” “Que Va,” the boy said. “There are many good fishermen and some great ones. But there is only you.” “Thank you. You make me happy. I hope no fish will come along so great that he will prove us wrong.” “There is no such fish if you are still strong as you say.” “I may not be as strong as I think,” the old man said. “But I know many tricks and I have resolution.” “You ought to go to bed now so that you will be fresh in the morning. I will take the things back to the Terrace.” [23] “Good night then. I will wake you in the morning.” “You’re my alarm clock,” the boy said. Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea 6 “Age is my alarm clock,” the old man said. “Why do old men wake so early? Is it to have one longer day?” “I don’t know,” the boy said. “All I know is that you

’ll waken you in time.” “I do not like for him to waken me. It is as though I were inferior.” “I know.” “Sleep well old man.” The boy went out. They had eaten with no light on the table and the old man took off his trousers and went to bed in the dark. He rolled his trousers up to make a pillow, putting the newspaper inside them. He rolled himself in the blanket and slept on the other old newspapers that covered the springs of the bed. He was asleep in a short time and he dreamed of Africa when he was a boy and the long golden beaches and the white beaches, so white they hurt your eyes, and the high capes and the great brown mountains. He lived along that coast now every night and in his dreams he heard the surf roar and saw the native boats [24] come riding through it. He smelled the tar and oakum of the deck as he slept and he smelled the smell of Africa that the land breeze brought at morning. Usually when he smelled the land breeze he woke up and dressed to go and wake the boy. But tonight the smell of the land breeze came very early and he knew it was too early in his dream and went on dreaming to see the white peaks of the Islands rising from the sea and then he dreamed of the different harbours and roadsteads of the Canary Islands. He no longer dreamed of storms, nor of women, nor of grea

r of his wife. He only dreamed of places now and of the lions on the beach. They played like young cats in the dusk and he loved them as he loved the boy. He never dreamed about the boy. He simply woke, looked out the open door at the moon and unrolled his trousers and put them on. He urinated outside the shack and then went up the road to wake the boy. He was shivering with the morning cold. But he knew he would shiver himself warm and that soon he would be rowing. The door of the house where the boy lived was unlocked and he opened it and walked in quietly with his [25] bare feet. The boy was asleep on a cot in the first room and the old man could see him clearly with the light that came in from the dying moon. He took hold of one foot gently and held it until the boy woke and turned and looked at him. The old man nodded and the boy took his trousers from the chair by the bed and, sitting on the bed, pulled them on. The old man went out the door and the boy came after him. He was sleepy and the old man put his arm across his shoulders and said, “I am sorry.” “Qua Va,” the boy said. “It is what a man must do.” They walked down the road to the old man’s shack and all along the road, in the dark, barefoot men were moving, carrying the masts of their boats. When they reached the old man’

d gaff and the old man carried the mast with the furled sail on his shoulder. “Do you want coffee?” the boy asked. “We’ll put the gear in the boat and then get some.” They had coffee from condensed milk cans at an early morning place that served fishermen. “How did you sleep old man?” the boy asked. He [26] was waking up now although it was still hard for him to leave his sleep. “Very well, Manolin,” the old man said. “I feel confident today.” “So do I,” the boy said. “Now I must get your sardines and mine and your fresh baits. He brings our gear himself. He never wants anyone to carry anything.” “We’re different,” the old man said. “I let you carry things when you were five years old.”

LỜI CÁM ƠN
Tác giả cảm ơn các đáp viên trong nghiên cứu này.
Tài liệu tham khảo
Bộ Công Thương. (2013). Nghị định số 52/2013/NĐ-CP ngày 16 tháng 05 năm 2013 về thương
mại điện tử [Decree No. 52/2013/NĐ-CP on E-commerce]. Truy cập ngày 21/05/2022 tại
/>Chung, K., & Shin, J. (2008). The relationship among e-retailing attributes, e-satisfaction and eloyalty. Management Review: An International Journal, 3(1), 23-45.
Cục Thương Mại Điện Tử và Kinh Tế Số. (2022). Sách trắng thương mại điện tử Việt Nam 2021

[The White Book on Vietnamese E-Business]. Truy cập ngày 21/05/2022 tại
/>Dholakia, R. R., & Zhao, M. (2010). Effects of online store attributes on customer satisfaction and
repurchase intentions. International Journal of Retail & Distribution Management, 38(7),
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Evangelista, F., Low, B. K., & Nguyen, M. T. (2019). How shopping motives, store attributes and
demographic factors influence store format choice in Vietnam: A logistic regression
analysis. Asia Pacific Journal of Marketing and Logistics, 32(1), 149-168.
doi:10.1108/APJML-02-2018-0076
Ghatak, R. R., Singhi, R., & Bansal, S. (2016). Online store selection attributes and patronage
intentions: An empirical analysis of the Indian e-retailing industry. Indian Journal of Science
and Technology, 9(44), 1-14. doi:10.17485/ijst/2016/v9i44/102647
Hair, J. F. J., Black, W., C., Babin, B. J., & Anderson, R. E. (2010). Multivariate data analysis.
Upper Saddle River, NJ: Prentice-Hall.
Huong Loan (2020). Bùng nổ mua sắm online thời Covid-19 [Booming online shopping in the time
of Covid-19]. Truy cập ngày 11/10/2022 tại />Kotni, V. V. D. P. (2017). Paradigm shift from attracting footfalls for retail store to getting hits for
e-stores: An evaluation of decision-making attributes in e-tailing. Global Business Review,
18(5), 1215-1237. doi:10.1177/0972150917710133
Moharana, T. R., & Pattanaik, S. (2018). Store selection in emerging markets: An Indian
perspective. Journal of Management Research, 18(3), 162-175.


old man who fished alone in a skiff in the Gulf Stream and he had gone eighty-four days now without taking a fish. In the first forty days a boy had been with him. But after forty days without a fish the boy’s parents had told him that the old man was now definitely and finally salao, which is the worst form of unlucky, and the boy had gone at their orders in another boat which caught three good fish the first week. It made the boy sad to see the old man come in each day with his skiff empty and he always went down to help him carry either the coiled lines or the gaff and harpoon and the sail that was furled around the mast. The sail was patched with flour sacks and, furled, it looked like the flag of permanent defeat. The old man was thin and gaunt with deep wrinkles in the back of his neck. The brown blotches of the benevolent skin cancer the sun brings from its [9] reflection on the tropic sea were on his cheeks. The blotches ran well down the sides of his face and his hands had the deep-creased scars from handling heavy fish on the cords. But none of these scars were fresh. They were as old as erosions in a fishless desert. Everything about him was old except his eyes and they were the same color as the sea and were cheerful and undefeated. “Santiago,” the boy said to him as they climbed the bank from

Nguyễn Thanh Minh. HCMCOUJS-Kinh tế và Quản trị kinh doanh, 19(2), …-…

e some money.” The old man had taught the boy to fish and the boy loved him. “No,” the old man said. “You’re with a lucky boat. Stay with them.” “But remember how you went eighty-seven days without fish and then we caught big ones every day for three weeks.” “I remember,” the old man said. “I know you did not leave me because you doubted.” “It was papa made me leave. I am a boy and I must obey him.” “I know,” the old man said. “It is quite normal.” “He hasn’t much faith.” [10] “No,” the old man said. “But we have. Haven’t we?” ‘Yes,” the boy said. “Can I offer you a beer on the Terrace and then we’ll take the stuff home.” “Why not?” the old man said. “Between fishermen.” They sat on the Terrace and many of the fishermen made fun of the old man and he was not angry. Others, of the older fishermen, looked at him and were sad. But they did not show it and they spoke politely about the current and the depths they had drifted their lines at and the steady good weather and of what they had seen. The successful fishermen of that day were already in and had butchered their marlin out and carried them laid full length across two planks, with two men Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea 2 staggering at the end of each plank, to the fish house where they waited for the ice truck to carry them to

to the shark factory on the other side of the cove where they were hoisted on a block and tackle, their livers removed, their fins cut off and their hides skinned out and their flesh cut into strips for salting. When the wind was in the east a smell came across the harbour from the shark factory; but today there [11] was only the faint edge of the odour because the wind had backed into the north and then dropped off and it was pleasant and sunny on the Terrace. “Santiago,” the boy said. “Yes,” the old man said. He was holding his glass and thinking of many years ago. “Can I go out to get sardines for you for tomorrow?” “No. Go and play baseball. I can still row and Rogelio will throw the net.” “I would like to go. If I cannot fish with you. I would like to serve in some way.” “You bought me a beer,” the old man said. “You are already a man.” “How old was I when you first took me in a boat?” “Five and you nearly were killed when I brought the fish in too green and he nearly tore the boat to pieces. Can you remember?” “I can remember the tail slapping and banging and the thwart breaking and the noise of the clubbing. I can remember you throwing me into the bow where the wet coiled lines were and feeling the whole boat shiver and the noise of you clubbing him like chopping a tree down and the sweet blood smell all ove

remember everything from when we first went together.” The old man looked at him with his sun-burned, confident loving eyes. “If you were my boy I’d take you out and gamble,” he said. “But you are your father’s and your mother’s and you are in a lucky boat.” “May I get the sardines? I know where I can get four baits too.” “I have mine left from today. I put them in salt in the box.” “Let me get four fresh ones.” “One,” the old man said. His hope and his confidence had never gone. But now they were freshening as when the breeze rises. “Two,” the boy said. “Two,” the old man agreed. “You didn’t steal them?” “I would,” the boy said. “But I bought these.” “Thank you,” the old man said. He was too simple to wonder when he had attained humility. But he [13] knew he had attained it and he knew it was not disgraceful and it carried no loss of true pride. “Tomorrow is going to be a good day with this current,” he said. “Where are you going?” the boy asked. “Far out to come in when the wind shifts. I want to be out before it is light.” “I’ll try to get him to work far out,” the boy said. “Then if you hook something truly big we can come to your aid.” “He does not like to work too far out.” “No,” the boy said. “But I will see something that he cannot see such as a bird working and get him to come out after dolphin.” “Are his eyes

Nguyen, M. T. (2014). Shopping motivations, retail attributes, and retail format choice in a
transitional market (Doctoral dissertation). Western Sydney University, Australia.

ver went turtle-ing. That is what kills the eyes.” “But you went turtle-ing for years off the Mosquito Coast and your eyes are good.” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea 3 “I am a strange old man” “But are you strong enough now for a truly big fish?” “I think so. And there are many tricks.” [14] “Let us take the stuff home,” the boy said. “So I can get the cast net and go after the sardines.” They picked up the gear from the boat. The old man carried the mast on his shoulder and the boy carried the wooden boat with the coiled, hard-braided brown lines, the gaff and the harpoon with its shaft. The box with the baits was under the stern of the skiff along with the club that was used to subdue the big fish when they were brought alongside. No one would steal from the old man but it was better to take the sail and the heavy lines home as the dew was bad for them and, though he was quite sure no local people would steal from him, the old man thought that a gaff and a harpoon were needless temptations to leave in a boat. They walked up the road together to the old man’s shack and went in through its open door. The old man leaned the mast with its wrapped sail against the wall and the boy put the box and the other gear beside it. The mast was nearly as long as the one room of the shack. The shack was

o and in it there was a bed, a table, one chair, and a place on the dirt floor to cook with charcoal. On the brown walls of the flattened, overlapping leaves of the sturdy fibered [15] guano there was a picture in color of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and another of the Virgin of Cobre. These were relics of his wife. Once there had been a tinted photograph of his wife on the wall but he had taken it down because it made him too lonely to see it and it was on the shelf in the corner under his clean shirt. “What do you have to eat?” the boy asked. “A pot of yellow rice with fish. Do you want some?” “No. I will eat at home. Do you want me to make the fire?” “No. I will make it later on. Or I may eat the rice cold.” “May I take the cast net?” “Of course.” There was no cast net and the boy remembered when they had sold it. But they went through this fiction every day. There was no pot of yellow rice and fish and the boy knew this too. “Eighty-five is a lucky number,” the old man said. “How would you like to see me bring one in that dressed out over a thousand pounds?” “I’ll get the cast net and go for sardines. Will you sit in the sun in the doorway?” [16] “Yes. I have yesterday’s paper and I will read the baseball.” The boy did not know whether yesterday’s paper was a fiction too. But the old man brought it out from under the bed.

have the sardines. I’ll keep yours and mine together on ice and we can share them in the morning. When I come back you can tell me about the baseball.” “The Yankees cannot lose.” “But I fear the Indians of Cleveland.” “Have faith in the Yankees my son. Think of the great DiMaggio.” “I fear both the Tigers of Detroit and the Indians of Cleveland.” “Be careful or you will fear even the Reds of Cincinnati and the White Sax of Chicago.” “You study it and tell me when I come back.” “Do you think we should buy a terminal of the lottery with an eighty-five? Tomorrow is the eighty-fifth day.” “We can do that,” the boy said. “But what about the eighty-seven of your great record?” [17] “It could not happen twice. Do you think you can find an eighty-five?” Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea 4 “I can order one. “One sheet. That’s two dollars and a half. Who can we borrow that from?” “That’s easy. I can always borrow two dollars and a half.” “I think perhaps I can too. But I try not to borrow. First you borrow. Then you beg.” “Keep warm old man,” the boy said. “Remember we are in September.” “The month when the great fish come,” the old man said. “Anyone can be a fisherman in May.” “I go now for the sardines,” the boy said. When the boy came back the old man was asleep in the chair and the sun was down. T

Nguyen, M. T. (2016). Supermarket attributes in Vietnam. Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam: University
of Economics.

ck of the chair and over the old man’s shoulders. They were strange shoulders, still powerful although very old, and the neck was still strong too and the creases did not show so much when the old man was asleep and his head fallen forward. His shirt had been patched so many times that it was like the sail and the patches were faded to many different shades by the sun. The [18] old man’s head was very old though and with his eyes closed there was no life in his face. The newspaper lay across his knees and the weight of his arm held it there in the evening breeze. He was barefooted. The boy left him there and when he came back the old man was still asleep. “Wake up old man,” the boy said and put his hand on one of the old man’s knees. The old man opened his eyes and for a moment he was coming back from a long way away. Then he smiled. “What have you got?” he asked. “Supper,” said the boy. “We’re going to have supper.” “I’m not very hungry.” “Come on and eat. You can’t fish and not eat.” “I have,” the old man said getting up and taking the newspaper and folding it. Then he started to fold the blanket. “Keep the blanket around you,” the boy said. “You’ll not fish without eating while I’m alive.” “Then live a long time and take care of yourself,” the old man said. “What are we eating?” “Black beans a

m in a two-decker metal container from the Terrace. The two sets of knives and forks and spoons were in his pocket with a paper napkin wrapped around each set. “Who gave this to you?” “Martin. The owner.” “I must thank him.” “I thanked him already,” the boy said. “You don’t need to thank him.” “I’ll give him the belly meat of a big fish,” the old man said. “Has he done this for us more than once?” “I think so.” “I must give him something more than the belly meat then. He is very thoughtful for us.” “He sent two beers.” “I like the beer in cans best.” “I know. But this is in bottles, Hatuey beer, and I take back the bottles.” “That’s very kind of you,” the old man said. “Should we eat?” “I’ve been asking you to,” the boy told him gently. “I have not wished to open the container until you were ready.” [20] “I’m ready now,” the old man said. “I only needed time to wash.” Where did you wash? the boy thought. The village water supply was two streets down the road. I must have water here for him, the boy thought, and soap and a good towel. Why am I so Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea 5 thoughtless? I must get him another shirt and a jacket for the winter and some sort of shoes and another blanket. “Your stew is excellent,” the old man said. “Tell me about the baseball,” the boy asked him. “In the American Leag

oday,” the boy told him. “That means nothing. The great DiMaggio is himself again.” “They have other men on the team.” “Naturally. But he makes the difference. In the other league, between Brooklyn and Philadelphia I must take Brooklyn. But then I think of Dick Sisler and those great drives In the old park.” “There was nothing ever like them. He hits the longest ball I have ever seen.” “Do you remember when he used to come to the Terrace?” [21] “I wanted to take him fishing but I was too timid to ask him. Then I asked you to ask him and you were too timid.” “I know. It was a great mistake. He might have gone with us. Then we would have that for all of our lives.” “I would like to take the great DiMaggio fishing,” the old man said. “They say his father was a fisherman. Maybe he was as poor as we are and would understand.” “The great Sisler’s father was never poor and he, the father, was playing in the Big Leagues when he was my age.” “When I was your age I was before the mast on a square rigged ship that ran to Africa and I have seen lions on the beaches in the evening.” “I know. You told me.” “Should we talk about Africa or about baseball?” “Baseball I think,” the boy said. “Tell me about the great John J. McGraw.” He said Jota for J. “He used to come to the Terrace sometimes too in the older days. But h

Nguyen, M. T., & Nguyen, D. C., & Le, T. A. H. (2019). Thuộc tính bán lẻ của cửa hàng tiện lợi ở
các thị trường có nền kinh tế chuyển đổi: Nghiên cứu ở Việt Nam [Retail attributes of
convenience stores in transitional markets - A study in Vietnam]. Tạp chí Khoa học Trường
Đại học Mở Thành phố Hồ Chí Minh, 14(3), 160-175.

s mind was on horses as well as baseball. At least he carried lists of [22] horses at all times in his pocket and frequently spoke the names of horses on the telephone.” “He was a great manager,” the boy said. “My father thinks he was the greatest.” “Because he came here the most times,” the old man said. “If Durocher had continued to come here each year your father would think him the greatest manager.” “Who is the greatest manager, really, Luque or Mike Gonzalez?” “I think they are equal.” “And the best fisherman is you.” “No. I know others better.” “Que Va,” the boy said. “There are many good fishermen and some great ones. But there is only you.” “Thank you. You make me happy. I hope no fish will come along so great that he will prove us wrong.” “There is no such fish if you are still strong as you say.” “I may not be as strong as I think,” the old man said. “But I know many tricks and I have resolution.” “You ought to go to bed now so that you will be fresh in the morning. I will take the things back to the Terrace.” [23] “Good night then. I will wake you in the morning.” “You’re my alarm clock,” the boy said. Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea 6 “Age is my alarm clock,” the old man said. “Why do old men wake so early? Is it to have one longer day?” “I don’t know,” the boy said. “All I know is that you

’ll waken you in time.” “I do not like for him to waken me. It is as though I were inferior.” “I know.” “Sleep well old man.” The boy went out. They had eaten with no light on the table and the old man took off his trousers and went to bed in the dark. He rolled his trousers up to make a pillow, putting the newspaper inside them. He rolled himself in the blanket and slept on the other old newspapers that covered the springs of the bed. He was asleep in a short time and he dreamed of Africa when he was a boy and the long golden beaches and the white beaches, so white they hurt your eyes, and the high capes and the great brown mountains. He lived along that coast now every night and in his dreams he heard the surf roar and saw the native boats [24] come riding through it. He smelled the tar and oakum of the deck as he slept and he smelled the smell of Africa that the land breeze brought at morning. Usually when he smelled the land breeze he woke up and dressed to go and wake the boy. But tonight the smell of the land breeze came very early and he knew it was too early in his dream and went on dreaming to see the white peaks of the Islands rising from the sea and then he dreamed of the different harbours and roadsteads of the Canary Islands. He no longer dreamed of storms, nor of women, nor of grea

r of his wife. He only dreamed of places now and of the lions on the beach. They played like young cats in the dusk and he loved them as he loved the boy. He never dreamed about the boy. He simply woke, looked out the open door at the moon and unrolled his trousers and put them on. He urinated outside the shack and then went up the road to wake the boy. He was shivering with the morning cold. But he knew he would shiver himself warm and that soon he would be rowing. The door of the house where the boy lived was unlocked and he opened it and walked in quietly with his [25] bare feet. The boy was asleep on a cot in the first room and the old man could see him clearly with the light that came in from the dying moon. He took hold of one foot gently and held it until the boy woke and turned and looked at him. The old man nodded and the boy took his trousers from the chair by the bed and, sitting on the bed, pulled them on. The old man went out the door and the boy came after him. He was sleepy and the old man put his arm across his shoulders and said, “I am sorry.” “Qua Va,” the boy said. “It is what a man must do.” They walked down the road to the old man’s shack and all along the road, in the dark, barefoot men were moving, carrying the masts of their boats. When they reached the old man’

d gaff and the old man carried the mast with the furled sail on his shoulder. “Do you want coffee?” the boy asked. “We’ll put the gear in the boat and then get some.” They had coffee from condensed milk cans at an early morning place that served fishermen. “How did you sleep old man?” the boy asked. He [26] was waking up now although it was still hard for him to leave his sleep. “Very well, Manolin,” the old man said. “I feel confident today.” “So do I,” the boy said. “Now I must get your sardines and mine and your fresh baits. He brings our gear himself. He never wants anyone to carry anything.” “We’re different,” the old man said. “I let you carry things when you were five years old.”

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