Mối quan hệ giữa tính khả dụng của trang web với thái độ và ý định mua của người tiêu dùng: Vai trò trung gian của sự hài lòng

He was an 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 where the skiff w

We’ve made 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 the market in Ha

taken them 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 over me.” [12] “Can

MỐI QUAN HỆ GIỮA TÍNH KHẢ DỤNG CỦA
TRANG WEB VỚI THÁI ĐỘ VÀ Ý ĐỊNH MUA
CỦA NGƯỜI TIÊU DÙNG: VAI TRÒ TRUNG GIAN
CỦA SỰ HÀI LÒNG

it to you?” “I 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 that bad?” “He is

said. “He never 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 made of the toug

called guano 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. “Perico gave it t

back when I 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. The boy took the

over the back 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 and rice, fried ba

brought them 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 League it is the Yan

“They lost today,” 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 he was rough and

drinking. His 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 young boys sleep la

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man said. “I’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 great occurrences, n

strength, nor 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’s shack the boy

harpoon and 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.”

Mã bài: JED - 571
Ngày nhận bài: 10/03/2022
Ngày nhận bài sửa: 25/04/2022
Ngày duyệt đăng: 29/04/2022

Tóm tắt
Nghiên cứu này được thực hiện để điều tra ảnh hưởng của tính khả dụng đến thái độ và ý định
mua và xem xét vai trò trung gian của sự hài lòng của khách hàng. Trên cơ sở dữ liệu khảo sát
509 khách hàng đã từng mua và trải nghiệm trên trang Shopee tại Việt Nam, mơ hình cấu trúc
tuyến tính (SEM) đã được sử dụng để kiểm định các giả thuyết nghiên cứu. Kết quả nghiên cứu
chỉ ra rằng, tính dễ sử dụng, dễ hiểu, dễ mua và dễ đặt hàng có ảnh hưởng tích cực đến sự hài
lịng của khách hàng. Tính dễ sử dụng, dễ hiểu và dễ đặt hàng có ảnh hưởng tích cực đến thái
độ đối với mua. Trong khi đó, chỉ có tính dễ sử dụng có ảnh hưởng tích cực đến ý định mua.
Nghiên cứu cho thấy tính dễ sử dụng, dễ hiểu, dễ mua và dễ đặt hàng đều có ảnh hưởng đến
thái độ và ý định mua một cách gián tiếp thông qua sự hài lịng của người tiêu dùng.
Từ khóa: Sự hài lòng của khách hàng, ý định mua, thái độ mua, tính khả dụng.
Mã JEL: M31
The relationship between website usability and consumer purchase attitude and intention:
The intermediate role of satisfaction
Abstract
This study investigates the effect of usability on attitude and purchase intention of consumers
and examines the mediating role of customer satisfaction. Based on survey data of 509
customers who have purchased from and experienced Shopee in Vietnam, Structural Equation
Modeling (SEM) was used to test the research hypotheses. Research results show that ease of

use, ease of understanding, ease of purchase, and ease of ordering have a positive influence on
customers’ satisfaction. Ease of use, ease of understanding, and ease of ordering have a positive
influence on attitudes towards purchase. Meanwhile, ease of use alone has a positive effect
on purchase intention. In particular, this study shows that ease of use, ease of understanding,
ease of purchase, and ease of ordering have an impact on attitude and purchase intention
indirectly through consumer satisfaction.
Keywords: Consumer satisfaction, purchase intention, purchase attitudes, usability.
JEL Code: M31
1. Giới thiệu
Sự phát triển của internet, cũng như tác động của đại dịch COVID-19, đã làm cho người tiêu dùng ở nhà
nhiều hơn. Một số khu vực hạn chế đi lại và các trung tâm mua sắm mở cửa hạn chế, dẫn tới việc mua sắm
trực tuyến được tạo bàn đạp phát triển nhanh và mạnh ở Việt Nam và dẫn đến một số lượng lớn các nhà
bán lẻ trực tuyến như Shopee, Lazada, Tiki… Cùng với những doanh nghiệp lớn này, nhiều nhà bán lẻ trực
tuyến nhỏ cũng đã tham gia vào không gian điện tử. Theo Sách trắng Thương mại điện tử Việt Nam cho thấy
thương mại điện tử Việt Nam đạt được mức tăng trưởng ấn tượng 18% vào năm 2020, quy mô thị trường lên

Số 299 tháng 5/2022

73


He was an 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 where the skiff w

We’ve made 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 the market in Ha

taken them 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 over me.” [12] “Can

đến 11,8 tỷ USD, chiếm 5,5% tổng mức bán lẻ hàng hóa và doanh thu dịch vụ tiêu dùng cả nước. Với mức
tăng trưởng ấn tượng đó, Việt Nam được cho là đang nhanh chóng trở thành “miếng bánh hấp dẫn” hàng đầu
cho thương mại điện tử tại khu vực Đông Nam Á.

Cả những nhà nghiên cứu và những nhà quản trị đều nhận ra tầm quan trọng của nhận thức về tính khả
dụng của trang web mua sắm đối với sự hài lòng, thái độ và ý định mua của khách hàng khi trải nghiệm mua
sắm trực tuyến (Flavián & cộng sự, 2006; Casaló & cộng sự, 2008; Kim & Eom, 2002; Lee & Kozar, 2012;
Karani & cộng sự, 2021; Benaida, 2021). Cũng giống như bán hàng tại các cửa hàng ngoại tuyến, khi một
khách hàng truy cập vào một cửa hàng trực tuyến, vấn đề tính khả dụng có thể ảnh hướng đến nhận thức và
hành vi của khách hàng. Do đó, những web có tính khả dụng hơn có xu hướng tạo ra những thái độ tích cực
hơn đối với các cửa hàng trực tuyến và tăng tỷ lệ chuyển đổi (Becker & Mottay, 2001). Những nghiên cứu
trước đây trong lĩnh vực bán lẻ đã nghiên cứu khái niệm về tính khả dụng, coi nó là một thành phần của chất
lượng dịch vụ (Ladhari, 2010). Tuy nhiên, việc tích hợp quản trị tính khả dụng trong chiến lược kinh doanh
số là một vấn đề mới cần phải được nghiên cứu sâu hơn.
Hầu hết các nghiên cứu về tính khả dụng của trang web đến lòng trung thành, sự hài lòng, thái độ và ý
định mua đều chỉ đo lường về tính khả dụng chung của trang web (Tandon & cộng sự, 2016; Belanche &
cộng sự, 2012) mà rất ít những nghiên cứu đi sâu vào tìm hiểu về các khía cạnh của tính khả dụng như tính
dễ sử dụng, dễ hiểu, dễ mua và dễ đặt hàng ảnh hưởng khác nhau như thế nào đến sự hài lòng, thái độ và
ý định mua hàng của khách hàng. Ngoài ra, các nghiên cứu về mua sắm trực tuyến chủ yếu bắt nguồn từ
các nước công nghiệp và phương Tây. Tuy nhiên, các thị trường mới nổi như Việt Nam có bối cảnh thể chế
khác nhau về khía cạnh kinh tế xã hội và quy định. Do đó, các mơ hình được phát triển ở các nước tiên tiến
cần được nghiên cứu và kiểm tra trong các nền văn hóa khác nhau, để những mơ hình này có thể được chấp
nhận rộng rãi hơn.
Mối quan tâm hàng đầu của các nhà bán lẻ trực tuyến ở Việt Nam là thuyết phục những người e ngại mua
sắm trực tuyến chấp nhận. Kiến thức thu được từ việc nghiên cứu các yếu tố tính khả dụng ảnh hưởng đến
sự hài lịng của khách hàng sẽ giúp ích rất nhiều cho các nhà nghiên cứu và nhà marketing trong việc hình
dung và đề xuất cách những người mua sắm khơng thường xun có thể chuyển đổi thành những người
mua sắm trực tuyến thường xuyên. Liệu rằng, các yếu tố của tính khả dụng của trang web như: dễ sử dụng,
dễ hiểu, dễ mua và dễ đặt hàng có ảnh hưởng như thế nào đến sự hài lòng, thái độ và ý định mua của khách
hàng Việt Nam? Các yếu tố đó có mức độ ảnh hưởng khác nhau như thế nào tới sự hài lòng, thái độ và ý
định mua của khách hàng Việt Nam? Vai trò trung gian của sự hài lòng đối với ảnh hưởng của tính khả dụng
đến thái độ và ý định mua của khách hàng Việt Nam ra sao? Nghiên cứu này được thực hiện nhằm hướng
tới trả lời các câu hỏi đó.
2. Cơ sở lý thuyết

2.1. Ý định mua
Zeithaml & cộng sự (1996) đã chỉ ra rằng ý định mua là một khía cạnh của ý định hành vi. Để xem xét
các mơ hình hành vi của người tiêu dùng, ý định mua hàng đã được sử dụng để dự đoán hành vi thực tế do
nó có liên quan đến hành vi thực tế (Ajzen & Fishbein, 1980) và mối liên hệ đã được điều tra thực nghiệm
trong các doanh nghiệp khách sạn và du lịch (Ajzen & Driver, 1992; Buttle & Bok, 1996). Trong lần truy
cập đầu tiên vào một trang web, thách thức chính mà nhà cung cấp dịch vụ phải đối mặt là chuyển đổi khách
truy cập thành người mua. Ngoài ra, ý định mua ảnh hưởng trực tiếp đến cả doanh thu và lợi nhuận của công
ty. Do đó, ý nghĩa của nó với tư cách là một biến kết quả được quan tâm. Do đó, ý định mua của khách hàng
được xem như một biến phụ thuộc cuối cùng trong mơ hình nghiên cứu đề xuất.
2.2. Thái độ mua hàng trực tuyến
Thái độ đối với mua sắm trực tuyến được định nghĩa là cảm giác tích cực hoặc tiêu cực của khách hàng liên
quan đến việc hoàn thành hành vi mua hàng trên internet (Chiu & cộng sự, 2005; Schlosser, 2003). Ngoài ra,
theo Vijayasarathy (2004) thái độ được định nghĩa là mức độ mà khách hàng thích mua sắm trực tuyến và coi
đó là một ý tưởng tốt. Theo Kotler & Armstrong (2013), lựa chọn mua sắm của một người bị ảnh hưởng bởi
bốn yếu tố tâm lý chính: động cơ, nhận thức, học hỏi, niềm tin và thái độ. Các đặc điểm của người tiêu dùng
như tính cách, lợi ích và nhận thức mua sắm trực tuyến cũng được phát hiện có ảnh hưởng đến hành vi mua
sắm trực tuyến của người tiêu dùng và tỷ lệ mua sắm trực tuyến (Cheung & Lee, 2003; Goldsmith & Flynn,

it to you?” “I 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 that bad?” “He is

said. “He never 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 made of the toug

called guano 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. “Perico gave it t

back when I 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. The boy took the

over the back 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 and rice, fried ba

brought them 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 League it is the Yan

“They lost today,” 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 he was rough and

drinking. His 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 young boys sleep la

man said. “I’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 great occurrences, n

strength, nor 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’s shack the boy

harpoon and 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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He was an 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 where the skiff w

We’ve made 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 the market in Ha

taken them 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 over me.” [12] “Can

2004). Do đó, hiểu được thái độ của người tiêu dùng giúp các nhà quản trị marketing dự đoán tỷ lệ mua sắm
trực tuyến và đánh giá sự tăng trưởng trong tương lai của bán lẻ trực tuyến.
2.3. Sự hài lòng của người tiêu dùng
Oliver (1981) đã định nghĩa sự hài lòng là mức độ của trạng thái cảm giác của một người bắt nguồn từ
việc so sánh kết quả thu được từ tiêu dùng sản phẩm với những kỳ vọng trước đó. Trong mơi trường trực
tuyến, sự hài lòng của khách hàng là một trong những chìa khóa quan trọng dẫn đến việc tăng khả năng giữ
chân khách hàng, tăng trưởng lâu dài của các cửa hàng trực tuyến và ý định mua hàng (Chen & cộng sự,
2012). Các nghiên cứu trước đây có liên quan đến sự hài lòng của khách hàng với ý định hành vi và thái độ
mua hàng. Các nghiên cứu này đã ngụ ý mối quan hệ trực tiếp giữa sự hài lòng của khách hàng và ý định

hành vi (Tsai và Huang, 2007; Che-Hui & cộng sự, 2011; Tandon & cộng sự, 2016). Ngồi ra, Có nhiều
nghiên cứu cho thấy vai trò của sự hài lòng trong việc nâng cao thái độ mua hàng trực tuyến của khách hàng
(Pavlou & Fygenson, 2006; Sánchez‐García & cộng sự, 2012; Tandon & cộng sự, 2016). Để cải thiện hiệu
quả kinh doanh và tăng mức độ hài lòng của người tiêu dùng, các nhà bán lẻ trực tuyến cần hiểu rõ ràng và
sâu sắc về tiền đề của sự hài lòng của người tiêu dùng trong môi trường trực tuyến. Từ những phân tích ở
trên tác giả đề xuất các giả thuyết sau:
H1: Sự hài lịng của khách hàng trong mơi trường trực tuyến có ảnh hưởng tích cực đến ý định mua.
H2: Sự hài lịng của khách hàng trong mơi trường trực tuyến có ảnh hưởng tích cực đến thái độ mua.
2.4. Tính khả dụng của trang web mua sắm trực tuyến
Flavián & cộng sự (2006) định nghĩa tính khả dụng của một web là nhận thức về sự dễ dàng khi điều hướng
trang web hoặc mua hàng qua internet. Bối cảnh sử dụng và trải nghiệm của người dùng khi tương tác với hệ
thống là những yếu tố chính của tính khả dụng trong tương tác giữa người với máy tính (Baber, 2005). Do đó,
mức độ khả dụng cao hơn sẽ liên quan đến mức độ khó khăn thấp hơn để quản lý chức năng đó (Davis, 1989)
và do đó, tính khả dụng được xét như là một nhân tố chính để dự đoán ý định sử dụng một hệ thống (Davis,
1989; Teo & cộng sự, 2003).
Tính khả dụng gắn liền với tính dễ sử dụng và được coi là yếu tố quan trọng để đạt được sự tin tưởng và
hài lịng của khách hàng (Flavián & cộng sự, 2006; Casaló & cộng sự, 2008; Nielsen, 2012). Roy & cộng sự
(2001) cho rằng các nhà bán lẻ trực tuyến cần chú ý đến tính dễ điều hướng, dễ học hỏi, dễ cảm nhận và hỗ
trợ trong khi thiết kế các trang web mua sắm trực tuyến. Kim & Eom (2002) và Ranganathan & Ganapathy
(2002) đã đề cập đến tầm quan trọng của tính khả dụng trong việc xác định các khía cạnh chính qua chất
lượng trang web. Theo Nielsen (2012), tính khả dụng xem xét trên các yếu tố tính dễ sử dụng, dễ hiểu, dễ
mua và dễ đặt hàng và được khái niệm chi tiết như sau:
•
Tính dễ sử dụng là sự đơn giản khi sử dụng trang web trong giai đoạn đầu mà người dùng truy cập
vào trang web đó;
•
Tính dễ hiệu là việc dễ dàng hiểu được cấu trúc của một hệ thống, các chức năng, giao diện của web
và những nội dung mà người dùng có thể quan sát được;
•
Tính dễ mua là tốc độ mà người dùng có thể tìm thấy những gì họ đang tìm kiếm; dễ dàng nhận thấy

việc điều hướng trang web và mua hàng về thời gian và hành động cần thiết để có được kết quả mong muốn;
•
Tính dễ đặt hàng là khả năng người dùng kiểm sốt được những gì họ đang làm và vị trí của họ tại
bất kỳ thời điểm nào trong quá trình đặt hàng.
Venkatesh & Agarwal (2006) đã đề xuất mơ hình tính khả dụng để kiểm tra mối liên hệ giữa nội dung,
tính dễ sử dụng và truyền thông như những cấu trúc quan trọng về tính khả dụng. Tính dễ hiểu (Loiacono
& cộng sự, 2002) và tính dễ sử dụng (Pearson & cộng sự, 2007; Casaló & cộng sự, 2008) đóng một vai trị
quan trọng trong việc chấp nhận các trang web. Bauer & cộng sự (2006) cho rằng chính giao và trả đơn hàng
là những khía cạnh quan trọng của mua sắm trực tuyến. Qu & cộng sự (2008) coi dịch vụ theo dõi đơn hàng
và tính dễ dàng trả lại sản phẩm là những yếu tố quyết định quan trọng ảnh hưởng đến xếp hạng chung của
các nhà bán lẻ trực tuyến. Sự hài lịng có thể là một yếu tố đặc biệt quan trọng đối với việc sử dụng các trang
web, bởi người tiêu dùng thường có xu hướng truy cập lại một trang web khi họ thấy hài lòng trong lần truy
cập đầu tiên (Ha & Janda, 2014; Karani & cộng sự, 2021).
Tuy nhiên, lý thuyết về hành vi người tiêu dùng trực tuyến nhận ra rằng, tác động của tính khả dụng khơng

it to you?” “I 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 that bad?” “He is

said. “He never 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 made of the toug

called guano 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. “Perico gave it t

back when I 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. The boy took the

over the back 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 and rice, fried ba

brought them 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 League it is the Yan

“They lost today,” 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 he was rough and

drinking. His 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 young boys sleep la

man said. “I’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 great occurrences, n

strength, nor 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’s shack the boy

harpoon and 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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He was an 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 where the skiff w

We’ve made 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 the market in Ha

taken them 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 over me.” [12] “Can

chỉ ảnh hưởng đến sự hài lòng mà còn ảnh hưởng đến ý định mua trong tương lai của người tiêu dùng. Ở
khía cạnh này, Flavián & cộng sự (2006) đã nhận thấy rằng tính khả dụng ảnh hưởng tích cực đến lịng trung
thành với một web. Ngoài ra, Abdeldayem (2010) lưu ý rằng thái độ đối với mua sắm trực tuyến và ý định
mua sắm trực tuyến bị ảnh hưởng bởi tính khả dụng. Do đó, tác giả đề xuất các giả thuyết sau:
H3a: Tính dễ sử dụng của trang thương mại điện tử có ảnh hưởng tích cực đến thái độ mua hàng.
H3b: Tính dễ sử dụng của trang thương mại điện tử có ảnh hưởng tích cực đến sự hài lịng của khách hàng.
H3c: Tính dễ sử dụng của trang thương mại điện tử có ảnh hưởng tích cực đến ý định mua hàng.
H4a: Tính dễ mua của trang thương mại điện tử có ảnh hưởng tích cực đến thái độ mua hàng.
H4b: Tính dễ mua của trang thương mại điện tử có ảnh hưởng tích cực đến sự hài lịng của khách hàng.
H4c: Tính dễ mua của trang thương mại điện tử có ảnh hưởng tích cực đến ý định mua hàng.
H5a: Tính dễ hiểu của trang thương mại điện tử có ảnh hưởng tích cực đến thái độ mua hàng.
H5b: Tính dễ hiểu của trang thương mại điện tử có ảnh hưởng tích cực đến sự hài lịng của khách hàng.

H5c: Tính dễ hiểu của trang thương mại điện tử có ảnh hưởng tích cực đến ý định mua hàng.
H6a: Tính dễ đặt hàng của trang thương mại điện tử có ảnh hưởng tích cực đến thái độ mua hàng.
H6b: Tính dễ đặt hàng của trang thương mại điện tử có ảnh hưởng tích cực đến sự hài lịng của khách hàng.
H6c: Tính dễ đặt hàng của trang thương mại điện tử có ảnh hưởng tích cực đến ý định mua hàng.
Dựa trên những phân tích và các giả thuyết đưa ra ở trên, mơ hình nghiên cứu đề xuất như Hình 1.

it to you?” “I 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 that bad?” “He is

said. “He never 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 made of the toug

called guano 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. “Perico gave it t

back when I 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. The boy took the

over the back 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 and rice, fried ba

brought them 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 League it is the Yan

“They lost today,” 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 he was rough and

drinking. His 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 young boys sleep la

man said. “I’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 great occurrences, n

strength, nor 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’s shack the boy

harpoon and 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.”

Hình 1: Mơ hình nghiên cứu đề xuất

Tính dễ sử
dụng

H3a
H3b
H3c

Thái độ mua

Tính khả dụng

H4a

Tính dễ mua

H4b
H4c
H5a

H1

Sự hài lịng của
khách hàng

H5b

Tính dễ hiểu

H5c
H6a

H6b

Tính dễ đặt
hàng

H2

Ý định mua

H6c

3. Phương pháp nghiên cứu
Phương pháp nghiên cứu được thực hiện theo hai giai đoạn. Giai đoạn đầu tiên tập trung vào việc phát
triển các thang đo dựa trên các định nghĩa của từng nhân tố, giai đoạn này chủ yếu điều chỉnh các thang đo
3. Phương
pháp
cứu cứu trước đây. Giá trị nội dung đã được đánh giá để đảm bảo tính nhất
đã được
xác định
trongnghiên
các nghiên
quán củaPhương
các thang
đo.
Giai
đoạn
haitheo
liên quan
đếnđoạn.
việc kiểm

thuyết
pháp nghiên cứunghiên
được cứu
thựcthứ
hiện
hai giai
Giai định
đoạncác
đầugiảtiên
tập nghiên
trung

vào việc phát triển các thang đo dựa trên các định nghĩa của từng nhân tố, giai đoạn này chủ yếu
76
Số 299 tháng 5/2022
điều chỉnh các thang đo đã được xác định trong các nghiên cứu trước đây. Giá trị nội dung đã
được đánh giá để đảm bảo tính nhất quán của các thang đo. Giai đoạn nghiên cứu thứ hai liên


He was an 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 where the skiff w

We’ve made 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 the market in Ha

taken them 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 over me.” [12] “Can

cứu bằng cách sử dụng dữ liệu thu thập được từ những khách hàng đã từng mua và trải nghiệm trên trang
thương mai điện tử Shopee.

it to you?” “I 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 that bad?” “He is

said. “He never 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 made of the toug

called guano 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. “Perico gave it t

3.1 Phát triển thang đo

back when I 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. The boy took the

Các biến quan sát của mỗi nhân tố trong nghiên cứu được điều chỉnh từ các nghiên cứu trước đây. Tác
giả đã tiến hành những điều chỉnh nhỏ về từ ngữ của các biến quan sát trước đây cho phù hợp với bối cảnh
nghiên cứu. Vì nghiên cứu này được tiến hành tại thị trường Việt Nam, nên các biến quan sát đã được dịch
từ tiếng Anh sang tiếng Việt và sau đó dịch lại sang tiếng Anh để kiểm tra độ chính xác. Nếu cần thiết, bản
dịch tiếng Việt có thể được điều chỉnh.

over the back 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 and rice, fried ba

brought them 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 League it is the Yan

“They lost today,” 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 he was rough and

drinking. His 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 young boys sleep la

man said. “I’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 great occurrences, n

strength, nor 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’s shack the boy

Thang đo Likert 5 điểm từ 1 = “hồn tồn khơng đồng ý” đến 5 “Hoàn toàn đồng ý” được sử dụng để
đo lường các biến quan sát trong nghiên cứu. Ý định mua được đo lường bởi 3 biến quan sát của Belanche
& cộng sự (2012). Thái độ đối với mua trực tuyến được đo lường bởi 3 biến quan sát của Tandon & cộng
sự (2016). Sự hài lòng của khách hàng được đo lường bởi 4 biến quan sát của Belanche & cộng sự (2012).

Trong khi đó, các nhân tố của tính khả dụng như tính dễ sử dụng, dễ hiểu, dễ mua và dễ đặt hàng được đo
lường lần lượt là 3, 4, 3, 4 biến quan sát được ứng dụng từ các nghiên cứu của Roy & cộng sự (2001), Kim
& Eom (2002) và Flavián & cộng sự (2006).

harpoon and 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.”

3.2 Thu thập và phân tích dữ liệu
Để kiểm định các giả thuyết nghiên cứu, một cuộc khảo sát trực tuyến đã được thực hiện với những khách
hàng tại Việt Nam đã từng mua sắm và trải nghiệm trên trang Shopee. Bảng hỏi nghiên cứu chính sử dụng
mẫu thuận tiện đối với những khách hàng đã từng mua sắm và trải nghiệm trên trang thương mại điện tử
Shopee tại Việt Nam, từ tháng 11 đến tháng 12 năm 2021. Với 527 phiếu khảo sát được thu thập, sau khi sàng
lọc và loại bỏ các phiếu không hợp lệ, tác giả sử dụng 509 phiếu hợp lệ để dùng trong phân tích chính thức.
Trong số những người trả lời, có 141 (27,7%) là nam, 368 (72,3%) là nữ. Ngoài ra, đa phần số người được
hỏi đều đã sử dụng trang thương mại điện tử Shopee để mua sắm từ 1 đến 3 năm (61,7%).
SPSS 22.0 và Amos 24.0 đã được sử dụng để phân tích dự liệu. Tác giả sử dụng tiếp cận hai bước của
Anderson & Gerbing (1988). Đầu tiên, Phân tích nhân tố khẳng định (CFA) để kiểm tra độ phù hợp của mỗi
thang đo và cấu trúc của mỗi nhân tố. Thứ hai, mô hình cấu trúc tuyến tính (SEM) đã được sử dụng để kiểm
định các giả thuyết nghiên cứu.
4. Kết quả nghiên cứu
4.1. Kiểm định thang đo
CFA được sử dụng để xác định tính đơn hướng, độ tin cậy và tính hợp lệ của thang đo sau các giai đoạn
phân tích mơ tả ban đầu. Các kết quả kiểm tra chỉ số thang đo đều được chấp nhận. Dự trên các chỉ số, kết
Bảng
1: Tổng
hợphợp
hệ số
alpha,
CRCR
và AVE
của của

thang
đo chính
thứcthức
Bảng
2: Tổng
hệ Cronbach’s
số Cronbach’s
alpha,
và AVE
thang
đo chính
Stt

Nhân tố

Biến quan
sát

Cronbach’s
alpha

CR

AVE

Ký hiệu

1

Ý định mua hàng

3

0,889

0,902

0,755

INT

2

Thái độ mua hàng

3

0,780

0,797

0,569

ATB

3

Sự hài lịng của khách
hàng

4

0,885

0,885

0,657

SAT

4

Tính dễ sử dụng

3

0,851

0,859

0,693

EUS

5

Tính dễ hiểu

4

0,828

0,828

0,548

EUN

6

Tính dễ mua

3

0,802

0,806

0,582

EPU

7

Tính dễ đặt hàng

4

0,852

0,858

0,604

EOR

77
Số 299 tháng 5/2022
4.2. Kiểm định mơ hình và các giả thuyết nghiên cứu
Mơ hình cấu trúc tuyến tính (SEM) đã được sử dụng để đánh giá mơ hình nghiên cứu đề xuất và


He was an 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 where the skiff w

We’ve made 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 the market in Ha

taken them 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 over me.” [12] “Can

quả CFA cho thấy khả năng tương thích với mơ hình là khả thi: Chi-square = 911,760, p = .000; Chi-square/
df (CMIN/DF) = 3.947, GFI = 0.880, RMSEA = 0.076, IFI = 0.921, TLI = 0.905, CFI = 0.921. Tất cả các
hệ số tải về nhân tố chuẩn hóa của các thang đo đều lớn hơn 0,6 (P <0,001). Hơn nữa, độ tin cậy tổng hợp
(CR) của bảy nhân tố đều lớn hơn 0,7 và tất cả các giá trị AVE đều lớn hơn 0,5 cho thấy các khái niệm đều
đạt tính đơn hướng và tính hội tụ. Các thang đo đều đạt tính đơn nguyên và đạt được giá trị phân biệt do hệ
số tương quan giữa các khái niệm trên phạm vi tổng thể đều khác biệt với 1, có ý nghĩa thống kê P < 0,05 và
giá trị căn bậc hai của A.V.E của từng khái niệm lớn hơn các hệ số tương quan giữa các khái niệm này với
các khái niệm khác. Ngồi ra hệ số Cronbach’s alpha được tính tốn cho từng thang đo nằm trong khoảng
từ 0,780 đến 0,889. Kết quả được chi tiết trong Bảng 1.

it to you?” “I 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 that bad?” “He is

said. “He never 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 made of the toug

called guano 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. “Perico gave it t

back when I 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. The boy took the

over the back 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 and rice, fried ba

brought them 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 League it is the Yan

“They lost today,” 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 he was rough and

drinking. His 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 young boys sleep la

man said. “I’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 great occurrences, n

strength, nor 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’s shack the boy

harpoon and 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.”

4.2. Kiểm định mơ hình và các giả thuyết nghiên cứu
Mơ hình cấu trúc tuyến tính (SEM) đã được sử dụng để đánh giá mơ hình nghiên cứu đề xuất và kiểm định các
giả thuyết nghiên cứu. Sự phù hợp của mơ hình đã được chấp nhận: Chi-square = 912,306; Chi-square/df = 3,932;
p = 0,000; GFI = 0,861; TLI = 0,906; CFI = 0.921; RMSEA = 0.076.
Cũng từ phân tích SEM, các mối quan hệ giả thuyết đã được kiểm tra. Sự hài lịng của khách hàng có ảnh
hưởng tích cực đến thái độ mua hàng trực tuyến (ß = 0.808, t = 8,013, p < 0,001) và ý định mua của người
tiêu dùng (ß = 0.605, t = 7,670, p < 0,001). Do đó, các giả thuyết H1 và H2 đã được chấp nhận. Tính dễ
sử dụng có ảnh hưởng tích cực đến sự hài lịng của khách hàng (ß = 0,371, t = 7,925, p < 0,001), đến thái
độ mua (ß = 0,124, t = 2,362, p < 0,05) và đến ý định mua (ß = 0,135, t = 2,723, p < 0,01). Do đó, các giả
thuyết H3a, H3b và H3c đã được chấp nhận. Giả thuyết H4a và H4b cũng được chấp nhận, khi tính dễ hiểu

có ảnh hưởng tích cực đến sự hài lịng của khách hàng (ß = 0,472, t = 9,919, p < 0,001) và thái độ mua hàng
(ß = 0,179, t = 2,945, p < 0,01). Tuy nhiên, tính dễ hiệu lại khơng nhận thấy ảnh hưởng đến ý định mua (ß =
0,096, t = 1,726, p = 0,084). Do đó, giả thuyết H4c khơng được chấp nhận. Tính dễ mua có ảnh hưởng tích
cực đến sự hài lịng của khách hàng (ß = 0.327, t = 7,046, p < 0,001). Nên giả thuyết H5a được chấp nhận.
Tuy nhiên, kết quả SEM cho thấy khơng có bằng chứng về mối quan hệ giữa tính dễ mua với thái độ mua (ß
Hình 2: Kết quả kiểm định mơ hình nghiên cứu lý thuyết (chuẩn hóa)

Số 299 tháng 5/2022

78
Bảng 3: Kết quả kiểm định mối quan hệ (chuẩn hóa)
Estimate

S.E.

C.R.

P

Giả thuyết


He was an 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 where the skiff w

We’ve made 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 the market in Ha

taken them 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 over me.” [12] “Can

= 0,043, t = 0,847, p = 0,397) và ý định mua hàng (ß = -0,045, t = -0,928, p = 0,354), vì thế giả thuyết H5b
và H5c không được chấp nhận. Cuối cùng, giả thuyết H6a và H6b đã được chấp nhận, khi tính dễ đặt hàng

có ảnh hưởng tích cực đến sự hài lịng của khách hàng (ß = 0,303, t = 6,968, p < 0,001) và thái độ mua (ß =
0,155, t = 3,071, p < 0,01). Trong khi đó, kết quả SEM cho thấy khơng có bằng chứng về mối quan hệ giữa
tính dễ đặt hàng với ý định mua hàng (ß = -0,091, t = -1,923, p = 0,055), vì vậy giả thuyết H6c đã không
được chấp nhận.
Bảng 2:
3: Kết quả kiểm định mối quan hệ (chuẩn hóa)

it to you?” “I 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 that bad?” “He is

said. “He never 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 made of the toug

called guano 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. “Perico gave it t

back when I 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. The boy took the

over the back 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 and rice, fried ba

brought them 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 League it is the Yan

“They lost today,” 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 he was rough and

drinking. His 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 young boys sleep la

man said. “I’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 great occurrences, n

strength, nor 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’s shack the boy

Estimate

S.E.

C.R.

P

Giả thuyết

harpoon and 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.”

ATB

<---

SAT

,808

,110

8,013

***

H1: Được chấp nhận

INT

<---

SAT

,605

,104

7,670

***

H2: Được chấp nhận

SAT

<---

EUS

,371

,043

7,925

***

H3a: Được chấp nhận

ATB

<---

EUS

,124

,052

2,362

,018

H3b: Được chấp nhận

INT

<---

EUS

,135

,060

2,723

,006

H3c: Được chấp nhận

SAT

<---

EUN

,472

,035

9,919

***

H4a: Được chấp nhận

ATB

<---

EUN

,179

,049

2,945

,003

H4b: Được chấp nhận

4.3. Kiểm định vai trò trung gian của sự hài lịng

Để
tích EUN
sâu hơn, các
trung gian
hài lịng
đượcđược
nghiên
INTphân
<--,096 tác động
,055
1,726của sự
,084
H4c:đãKhông
chấp cứu.
nhận Hàm
Bootstrap
đượcEPU
hiệu chỉnh
sai số với
1000 mẫu
(Baron***
& Kenny,H5a:
1986)
đã chấp
đượcnhận
sử dụng để
SAT đã

<--,327
,040
7,046
Được
<---tác EPU
,048hài lịng.
,847
,397trungH5b:
được
kiểmATB
định các
động trung,043
gian của sự
Tác động
gianKhơng
của sự
hàichấp
lịngnhận
đã được
<---quảEPU
-,045
,056 hệ gián
-,928tiếp từ,354
Khơng(tổng
được chấp
nhận ß =
phân INT
tích, kết
chỉ ra rằng
có mối quan

tính dễH5c:
sử dụng
tác động:
SAT
<--- tác
EOR
,303tiếp: ß =,028
6,968
chấp nhận
0,424,
p < 0,001;
động trực
0,124, p <
0,05; tác***
động giánH6a:
tiếp:Được
ß = 0,300,
p = 0,001),
ATB <--- EOR
,155
,035
3,071
,002
H6b: Được chấp nhận
tính dễ hiểu (tổng tác động: ß = 0,560, p < 0,01; tác động trực tiếp: ß = 0,179, p < 0,01; tác động
INT
<--- EOR
-,091
,040
-1,923

,055
H6c: Khơng được chấp nhận
gián tiếp: ß = 0,381, p = 0,001), tính dễ mua (tổng tác động: ß = 0,307, p < 0,01; tác động trực
4.3. ßKiểm
định vai
trungtác
gian
củagián
sự hài
lịng
tiếp:
= 0,043,
p =trị
0,397;
động
tiếp:
ß = 0,264, p = 0,002) và tính dễ đặt hàng (tổng tác
Để
phân
tích
sâu
hơn,
các
tác
động
trung
gian
của
sự hài plịng
đã được

nghiêngián
cứu.tiếp:
Hàmß Bootstrap
động: ß = 0,400, p < 0,01; tác động trực tiếp: ß = 0,155,
< 0,01;
tác động
= 0,245, pđã
được hiệu chỉnh sai số với 1000 mẫu (Baron & Kenny, 1986) đã được sử dụng để kiểm định các tác động
= 0,001) tới thái độ đối với mua hàng trực tuyến. Tiếp theo, tác động trung gian của sự hài lòng
trung gian của sự hài lòng. Tác động trung gian của sự hài lòng đã được phân tích, kết quả chỉ ra rằng có mối
đến hệ
ý định
cũng
phân
tích.
quảßcũng
chỉ pracó tác
mốiđộng
quantrực
hệ tiếp:
giánßtiếp
từ tínhp <
quan
gián mua
tiếp từ
tínhđã
dễđược
sử dụng
(tổng

tácKết
động:
= 0,424,
0,001;
= 0,124,
0,05;
tácdụng
động(tổng
gián tiếp:
ß = 0,300,
p = 0,001),
tính dễ hiểu
(tổngtrực
tác động:
động
trực
dễ sử
tác động:
ß = 0,359,
p < 0,001;
tác động
tiếp: ß = 0,560,
0,135,pp<<0,01;
0,01;táctác
động
tiếp:
= 0,179,
< 0,01;ptác
động gián
tiếp:

= 0,381,
= 0,001),
mua (tổng
tác động:
ß = 0,307,
giánß tiếp:
ß =p0,224,
= 0,001),
tính
dễßhiểu
(tổngp tác
động:tính
ß =dễ0,369,
p < 0,01;
tác động
trực p
< 0,01; tác động trực tiếp: ß = 0,043, p = 0,397; tác động gián tiếp: ß = 0,264, p = 0,002) và tính dễ đặt hàng
tiếp: ß = 0,096, p = 0,084; tác động gián tiếp: ß = 0,285, p = 0,001), tính dễ mua (tổng tác động: ß
(tổng tác động: ß = 0,400, p < 0,01; tác động trực tiếp: ß = 0,155, p < 0,01; tác động gián tiếp: ß = 0,245, p =
= 0,153,
p <độ0,01;
tácmua
động
trựctrực
tiếp:
ß =Tiếp
-0,045,
= động
0,354;
tác gian

độngcủa
gián
tiếp:
ß =đến
0,198,
=
0,001)
tới thái
đối với
hàng
tuyến.
theo,ptác
trung
sự hài
lịng
ý địnhp mua
0,001)
và tính
dễtích.
đặt hàng
(tổng
ß=
p 0,01;
trực
ß =(tổng
-0,091,
p=
cũng
đã được

phân
Kết quả
cũngtác
chỉđộng:
ra rằng
có0,092,
mối quan
giántác
tiếpđộng
từ tính
dễ tiếp:
sử dụng
tác động:
ß0,055;
= 0,359,
0,001;
táctiếp:
độngßtrực
tiếp: ßp==0,135,
p 0,01;
tác động
tácp <động
gián
= 0,183,
0,001)
ý định
mua.gián tiếp: ß = 0,224, p = 0,001), tính dễ
hiểu (tổng tác động: ß = 0,369, p < 0,01; tác động trực tiếp: ß = 0,096, p = 0,084; tác động gián tiếp: ß = 0,285,
Bảng 3: Kết quả kiểm định mối quan hệ gián tiếp của sự hài lòng

Bảng 4: Kết quả kiểm định mối quan hệ gián tiếp của sự hài lòng
Hệ số tác động gián tiếp chuẩn hòa
EOR

EPU

EUN

EUS

INT

0,183

0,198

0,285

0,224

ATB

0,245

0,264

0,381

0,300

EOR

EPU

EUN

EUS

INT

0,001

0,001

0,001

0,001

ATB

0,001

0,002

0,001

0,001

Giá trị sig mối quan hệ

79
Số 299 tháng 5/2022
5. Kết luận
Trên cơ sở dữ liệu khảo sát từ 509 quan sát là những khách hàng đã từng mua và trải nghiệm


He was an 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 where the skiff w

We’ve made 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 the market in Ha

taken them 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 over me.” [12] “Can

p = 0,001), tính dễ mua (tổng tác động: ß = 0,153, p < 0,01; tác động trực tiếp: ß = -0,045, p = 0,354; tác động
gián tiếp: ß = 0,198, p = 0,001) và tính dễ đặt hàng (tổng tác động: ß = 0,092, p < 0,01; tác động trực tiếp: ß =
-0,091, p = 0,055; tác động gián tiếp: ß = 0,183, p = 0,001) tới ý định mua.

it to you?” “I 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 that bad?” “He is

said. “He never 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 made of the toug

called guano 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. “Perico gave it t

back when I 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. The boy took the

5. Kết luận

over the back 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 and rice, fried ba

brought them 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 League it is the Yan

Trên cơ sở dữ liệu khảo sát từ 509 quan sát là những khách hàng đã từng mua và trải nghiệm trên sàn
thương mại điện tử Shopee tại Việt Nam, nghiên cứu đã chứng minh ảnh hưởng của các yếu tố tính khả
dụng của sàn thương mại điện tử đến sự hài lòng, thái độ và ý định mua của người tiêu dùng. Trong đó, tính
dễ hiệu, dễ sử dụng, dễ mua và dễ đặt hàng đều có ảnh hưởng đến sự hài lòng của khách hàng theo mức độ
giảm dần, kết quả này phù hợp với các nghiên cứu trươc đây (Flavián & cộng sự, 2006; Belanche & cộng sự,
2012; Casaló & cộng sự, 2008; Benaida, 2021). Tính dễ hiểu, dễ đặt hàng và dễ sử dụng có ảnh hưởng tích
cực đến thái độ đối với mua hàng trực tuyến theo mức độ giảm dần. Trong khi đó, tính dễ sử dụng ảnh hưởng
trực tiếp và gián tiếp thông qua sự hài lòng đến ý định mua của người tiêu dùng. Mặc dù, tính dễ hiểu, dễ
mua và dễ đặt hàng chưa cho thấy có sự ảnh hưởng trực tiếp đến ý định mua, nhưng cả ba yếu tố đó đều ảnh
hưởng một cách gián tiếp đến ý định mua thông qua biến trung gian sự hài lòng của người tiêu dùng. Ngoài
ra, kết quả nghiên cứu chưa cho thấy mối quan hệ trực tiếp giữa tính dễ mua với thái độ mua của người tiêu
dùng, nhưng có mối quan hệ gián tiếp giữa chúng thơng qua sự hài lịng của người tiêu dùng. Nghiên cứu
cho thấy tầm quan trọng của sự hài lòng đối với mua hàng trực tuyến. Hơn nữa, kết quả nghiên cứu cho thầy
sự hài lòng của khách hàng khi mua sắm và trải nghiệm trực tuyến có ảnh hưởng trực tiếp tương đối lớn đến
cả thái độ và ý định mua hàng trực tuyến, kết quả này phù hợp với các nghiên cứu trước đây (Belanche &
cộng sự, 2012; Tandon & cộng sự, 2016).

“They lost today,” 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 he was rough and

drinking. His 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 young boys sleep la

man said. “I’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 great occurrences, n

strength, nor 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’s shack the boy

harpoon and 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.”

Việc nghiên cứu sâu về tính khả dụng của trang web trên cả bốn khía cạnh tính dễ sử dụng, dễ hiểu, dễ
mua và dễ đặt hàng, cũng như nghiên cứu vai trò trung gian sự hài lòng của người tiêu dùng thể hiện sự
đóng góp mới vào cơ sở lý thuyết vì các tác giả trước đây đã để xuất ảnh hưởng trực tiếp của tính khả dụng

nói chung đến lòng trung thành của người tiêu dùng đối với một trang website (Flavián & cộng sự, 2006;
Belanche & cộng sự, 2012). Từ kết quả nghiên cứu tác giả gợi ý một số giải pháp cho các các nhà bán lẻ trực
tuyến trong việc thúc đẩy sự hài lòng, thái độ và ý định mua hàng của người tiêu dùng.
Những phát hiện của nghiên cứu này rất hữu ích cho các nhà bán lẻ trực tuyến ở Việt Nam, họ có thể sử
dụng chúng để có được những hiểu biết có giá trị về các yếu tố dẫn đến sự hài lịng của khách hàng, từ đó
truyền niềm tin cho người tiêu dùng về mua sắm trực tuyến. Mua sắm trực tuyến cho phép thay đổi thói quen
mua hàng của người tiêu dùng và họ cần một thời gian để điều chỉnh với sự thay đổi này trong thực tiễn mua
hàng. Các nhà bán lẻ trực tuyến cần phải đồng cảm với khách hàng. Vì vậy, để giữ chân khách hàng, các nhà
bán lẻ trực tuyến cần chú ý đến các đặc điểm dễ sử dụng, dễ hiểu, dễ mua và dễ đặt hàng, như được nêu rõ
qua các kết quả nghiên cứu. Khách hàng ưu tiên cao hơn cho các đặc điểm dễ hiểu và dễ sử dụng. Do đó, các
nhà bán lẻ trực tuyến cần tập trung vào đồ họa, hiển thị hình ảnh và các vấn đề liên quan đến tương tác. Cần
phải tập trung vào các trang web hấp dẫn và sôi động, dễ tải lên và các trang web phải thân thiện với người
dùng. Cần nâng cao chất lượng thông tin, hướng dẫn về thanh tốn và tour du lịch ảo thơng qua trang web.
Sự hài lịng có vai trị quan trọng trong việc hình thành thái độ và ý định hành vi, các nhà bán lẻ trực tuyến
nên cố gắng tối đa hóa sự hài lịng của khách hàng trong suốt q trình tương tác thông qua trang thương mại
điện tử mua sắm của mình. Cụ thể hơn, sự hài lịng sẽ được tạo ra nếu những mong đợi của khách hàng về
mối quan hệ được đáp ứng. Do đó, các nhà bán lẻ trực tuyến nên cố gắng xác định những nhu cầu của khách
hàng trực tuyến không chỉ các yếu tố về tính dễ sử dụng, dễ hiểu và thiết kế của web mà cả những điều khoản
dịch vụ được cung cấp,.. để từ đó cung cấp những gì khách hàng u cầu một cách hiệu quả.
Nghiên cứu cịn có một số hạn chế. Nghiên cứu mới chỉ nghiên cứu khách hàng của một trang thương mại
điện tử duy nhất (Shopee), do đó các nghiên cứu trong tương lai nên mở rộng nghiên cứu ở các loại hình
web khác cũng như những ứng dụng mua hàng trực tuyến khác. Nghiên cứu mới chỉ dừng lại ở thái độ và ý
định mua, các nghiên cứu trong tương lại nên nghiên cứu sâu hơn đến những hành vi mua thực tế, cũng như
phân tích sự khác biệt giới tính, khu vực sinh sống để có sự hiểu biết sâu hơn.

Số 299 tháng 5/2022

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He was an 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 where the skiff w

We’ve made 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 the market in Ha

taken them 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 over me.” [12] “Can

Tài liệu tham khảo

it to you?” “I 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 that bad?” “He is

said. “He never 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 made of the toug

Abdeldayem, M.M. (2010), ‘A study of customer satisfaction with online shopping: evidence from the UAE’, International
Journal of Advanced Media and Communication, 4(3), 235-257.

called guano 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. “Perico gave it t

back when I 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. The boy took the

Ajzen, I. & Fishbein, M. (1980), Understanding attitudes and predicting social behavior, Prentice-Hall, New York,
USA.

over the back 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 and rice, fried ba

brought them 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 League it is the Yan

“They lost today,” 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 he was rough and

Ajzen, I. & Driver, B. L. (1992), ‘Application of the theory of planned behavior to leisure choice’, Journal of Leisure
Research, 24(3), 207-224.

drinking. His 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 young boys sleep la

man said. “I’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 great occurrences, n

Anderson, J. C. & Gerbing, D. W. (1988), ‘Structural equation modeling in practice: A review and recommended twostep approach’, Psychological Bulletin, 103(3), 411-423.

strength, nor 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’s shack the boy

harpoon and 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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He was an 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 where the skiff w

We’ve made 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 the market in Ha

taken them 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 over me.” [12] “Can

Ladhari, R. (2010), ‘Developing e-service quality scales: A literature review’, Journal of Retailing and Consumer

Services, 17(6), 464-477.

it to you?” “I 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 that bad?” “He is

said. “He never 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 made of the toug

called guano 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. “Perico gave it t

Lee, Y. & Kozar, K. A. (2012), ‘Understanding of website usability: Specifying and measuring constructs and their
relationships’, Decision Support Systems, 52(2), 450-463.

back when I 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. The boy took the

over the back 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 and rice, fried ba

Loiacono, E., Chen, D. & Goodhue, D. (2002), ‘WebQual TM revisited: predicting the intent to reuse a Web site’,
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brought them 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 League it is the Yan

“They lost today,” 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 he was rough and

drinking. His 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 young boys sleep la

Nielsen, J. (2012), Usability 101: Introduction to usability (2012), last retrieved on April 20, 2022, from nngroup.com/articles/usability-101-introduction-to-usability/>.

man said. “I’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 great occurrences, n

strength, nor 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’s shack the boy

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harpoon and 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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He was an 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 where the skiff w

We’ve made 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 the market in Ha

taken them 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 over me.” [12] “Can

it to you?” “I 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 that bad?” “He is

said. “He never 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 made of the tou

called guano 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. “Perico gave it t

back when I 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. The boy took the

over the back 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 and rice, fried ba

brought them 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 League it is the Yan

“They lost today,” 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 he was rough and

drinking. His 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 young boys sleep l

man said. “I’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 great occurrences, n

strength, nor 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’s shack the boy

harpoon and 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.”