• 搜索：

• 最近文章

  • Add a green message to your email
  • Just for today
  • How to be a friend of yourself
  • Poem by an African kid
  • Love in all life
  • Make you blod
  • An Empty Box
  • A Pair of Socks
  • One Finger
  • Hanover Square

• 最近评论

  • joe 在 love is like a broken arm 上的评论
  • joe 在 The smile 微笑 上的评论

• 文章索引模板

  选择月份 2009年12月 2009年11月 2009年10月 2009年9月 2009年8月 2009年7月 2009年6月 2009年5月 2009年4月 2009年3月 2009年2月 2009年1月 2008年12月 2008年9月 2008年8月 2008年6月 2008年5月 2008年4月 2008年3月 2007年12月 2007年11月 2007年8月 2007年6月 2007年5月 2007年4月

• 订阅

  Feedburner
  

  Feedsky

• 友情链接

  英语文摘 豆瓣小组 轻松调频
  开复博客 单词大米 沪江英语
  旺旺英语 普特英语 大耳英语
  可可英语 爱思英语 每日英语
  ESLpod Lang-8 Speak2me
  

• 功能

  • 登录
  • 文章 RSS
  • RSS 评论
  • WordPress.org

They say that blood is thicker than water, that our relatives are more important to us than others. Everyone

was so kind to the old lady on her birthday. Surely her daughter would make an even bigger effort to please he?

　　The Present

　　It was the old lady's birthday.
　　She got up early to be ready for the post. From the second floor flat she could see the postman when he came

down the street, and the little boy from the ground floor brought up her letters on the rare occasions when

anything came.
　　Today she was sure the would be something. Myra wouldn't forget her mother's birthday, even if she seldom

wrote at other times. Of course Myra was busy. Her husband had been made Mayor, and Myra herself had got a medal

for her work the aged.
　　The old lady was proud of Myra, but Enid was the daughter she loved. Enid had never married, but had seemed

content to live with her mother, and teach in a primary school round the corner.
　　One evening, however, Enid said, "I've arranged for Mrs. Morrison to look after you for a few days, Mother.

Tomorrow I have to go into hospital--just a minor operation, I'll soon be home."
　　In the morning she went, but never came back--she died on the operating table. Myra came to the funeral, and

in her efficient way arranged for Mrs. Morrison to come in and light the fire and give the old lady her

breakfast.
　　Two years ago that was, and since then Myra had been to see her mother three times, but her husband never.
　　The old lady was eight today. She had put on her best dress. Perhaps--perhaps Myra might come. After all,

eighty was a special birthday, another decade lined or endured just as you chose to look at it.
　　Even if Myra did not come, she would send a present. The old lady was sure of that. Two spots of colour

brightened her cheeks. She was excited--like a child. She would enjoy her day.
　　Yesterday Mrs. Morrison had given the flat an extra clean, and today she had brought a card and a bunch of

marigolds when she came to do the breakfast. Mrs. Grant downstairs had made a cake, and in the afternoon she was

going down there to tea. The little boy, Johnnie, had been up with a packet of mints, and said he wouldn't go

out to play until the post had come.
　　"I guess you'll get lots and lots of presents," he said, "I did last were when I was six."
　　What would she like? A pair of slippers perhaps. Or a new cardigan. A cardigan would be lovely. Blue's such

a pretty colour. Jim had always liked her in blue. Or a table lamp. Or a book, a travel book, with piures, or a

little clock, with clear black numbers. So many lovely things.
　　She stood by the window, watching. The postman turned round the corner on his bicycle. Her heart beat fast.

Johnnie had seen him too and ran to the gate.
　　Then clatter, clatter up the stairs. Johnnie knocked at her door.
　　"Granny, granny," he shouted, "I've got your post."
　　He gave her four envelopes. Three were unsealed cards from old friends. The fourth was sealed, in Myra's

writing. The old lady felt a pang of disappointment.
　　"No parcel, Johnnie?"
　　"No, granny."
　　Maybe the parcel was too large to come by letter post. That was it. It would come later by parcel post. She

must be patient.
　　Almost reluantly she tore the envelope open. Folded in the card was a piece of paper. Written on the card

was a message under the printed Happy Birthday -- Buy yourself something nice with the cheque, Myra and Harold.
　　The cheque fluttered to the floor like a bird with a broken wing. Slowly the old lady stooped to pick it up.

Her present, her lovely present. With trembling fingers she tore it into little bits.

Many people in the United States spend most of their free time watching television. Certainly, there are many worthwhile programs on television, including news, educational programs for children, programs on current social problems, plays, movies, concerts, and so on. Nevertheless, perhaps people should not be spending so much of their time in front of the TV. Mr Mayer imagines what we might do if we were forced to find other activities.

　　Turning off TV: a Quiet Hour

　　I would like to propose that for sixty to ninety minutes each evening, right after the early evening news, all television broadcasting in the United States be prohibited by law.
　　Let us take a serious, reasonable look at what the results be if such a proposal were accepted. Families might use the time for a real family hour. Without the distraction of TV, they might sit around together after dinner and actually talk to one another. It is well known that many of our problems -- everything, in fact, from the generation gap to the high divorce rate to some forms of mental illness -- are caused at least in part by failure to communicate. We do not tell each other what is disturbing us. The result is emotional difficulty of one kind or another. By using the quiet family hour to discuss our problems, we might get to know each other better, and to like each other better.
　　On evenings when such talk is unnecessary, families could rediscover more active pastimes. Freed from TV, forced to find their own activities, they might take a ride together to watch the sunset. Or they might take a walk together (remember feet?) and see the neighborhood with fresh, new eyes.
　　With free time and no TV, children and adults might rediscover reading. There is more entertainment in a good book than in a month of typical TV programming. Educators report that the generation growing up with television can barely write an English sentence, even at the college level. Writing is often learned from reading. A more literate new generation could be a product of the quiet hour.
　　A different form of reading might also be done, as it was in the past: reading aloud. Few pastimes bring a family closer together than gathering around and listening to mother or father read a good story. The quiet hour could become the story hour. When the quiet hour ends, the TV networks might even be forced to come up with better shows in order to get us back from our newly discovered activities.
　　At first glance, the idea of an hour without TV seems radical. What will parents do without the electronic baby-sitter? How will we spend the time? But it is not radical at all. It has been only twenty-five years since television came to control American free time. Those of us thirty-five and older can remember childhoods without television, spent partly with radio -- which at least involved the listener's imagination -- but also with reading, learning, talking, playing games, inventing new aivities. It wasn't that difficult. Honest. The truth is we had a ball.

At sixty-five Francis Chichester set out to sail single-handed round the world. This is the story of that adventure.

　　Sailing Round the World

　　Before he sailed round the world single-handed, Francis Chichester had already surprised his friends several times. He had tried to fly round the world but failed. That was in 1931.
　　The years passed. He gave up flying and began sailing. He enjoyed it greatly. Chichester was already 58 years old when he won the first solo transatlantic sailing race. His old dream of going round the world came back, but this time he would sail. His friends and doors did not think he could do it, as he had lung cancer. But Chichester was determined to carry out his plan. In August, 1963, at the age of nearly sixty-five, an age when many men retire, he began the greatest voyage of his life. Soon, he was away in this new 16-metre boat, Gipsy Moth.
　　Chichester followed the route of the great nineteenth century clipper ships. But the clippers had had plenty of crew. Chicheater did it all by himself, even after the main steering device had been damaged by gales. Chichester covered 14, 100 miles before stopping in Sydney, Australia. This was more than twice the distance anyone had previously sailed alone.
　　He arrived in Australia on 12 December, just 107 days out from England. He received a warm welcome from the Australians and from his family who had flown there to meet him. On shore, Chichester could not walk without help. Everybody said the same thing: he had done enough; he must not go any further. But he did not listen.
　　After resting in Sydney for a few weeks, Chichester set off once more in spite of his friends' attempts to dissuade him. The second half of his voyage was by far the more dangerous part, during which he sailed round the treacherous Cape Horn.
　　On 29 January he left Australia. The mext night, the blackest he had ever known, the sea became so rough that the boat almost turned over. Food, clothes, and broken glass were all mixed together. Fortunately, bed and went to sleep. When he woke up, the sea had become calm the nearest person he could contact by radio, unless there was a ship nearby, Wild be on an island 885 miles away.
　　After succeeding in sailing round Cape Horn, Chichester sent the following radio message to London:" I feel as if I had wakened from a nightmare. Wild horses could not drag me down to Cape Horn and that sinister Southern Ocean again."
　　Juat before 9 o'clock on Sunday evening 28 May, 1967, he arrived back in England, where a quarter of a million people were waiting to welcome him. Queeh Elizabeth II knigthed him with the very sword that Queen Elizabeth I had sailed round the world for the first time. The whole voyage from England and back had covered 28, 500 miles. It had taken him nine months , of which the sailing time was 226 days. He had done what he wanted to accomplish.
　　Like many other adventurers, Chichester had experienced fear and conquered it. In doing so, he had undoubtedly learnt something about himself. Moreover, in the modern age when human beings depend so much on machines, he had given men throughout the world new pride.

Want to know how to improve your grades without having to spend more time studying? Sounds too good to be true? Well, read on...

　　How to Improve Your Study Habits

　　Perhaps you are an average student with average intelligence. You do well enough in school, but you probably think you will never be a top student. This is not necessarily the case, however. You can receive better grades if you want to. Yes, even students of average intelligence can be top students without additional work. Here's how:
　　1. Plan your time carefully. Make a list of your weekly tasks. Then make a schedule or chart of your time. Fill in committed time such as eating, sleeping, meetings, classes, etc. Then decide on good, regular times for studying. Be sure to set aside enough time to complete your normal reading and work assignments. Of course, studying shouldn't occupy all of the free time on the schedule. It's important to set aside time for relaxation, hobbies, and entertainment as well. This weekly schedule may not solve all of your problems, but it will make you more aware of how you spend your time. Furthermore, it will enable you to plan your aivities so that you have adequate time for both work and play.
　　2. Find a good place to study. Choose one place for your study area. It may be a desk or a chair at home or in the school library, but it should be comfortable, and it should not have distractions. When you begin to work, you should be able to concentrate on the subje.
　　3. Skim before you read. This means looking over a passage quickly before you begin to read it more carefully. As you preview the material, you get some idea of the content and how it is organized. Later when you begin to read you will recognize less important material and you may skip some of these portions. Skimming helps double your reading speed and improves your comprehension as well.
　　4. Make good use of your time in class. Listening to what the teacher says in class means less work later. Sit where you can see and hear well. Take notes to help you remember what the teacher says.
　　5. Study regularly. Go over your notes as soon as you can after class. Review important points mentioned in class as well as points you remain confused about. Read about these points in your textbook. If you know what the teacher will discuss the next day, skim and read that material too. This will help you understand the next class. If you review your notes and textbook regularly, the material will become more meaningful and you will remember it longer. Regular review leads to improved performance on test.
　　6. Develop a good attitude about tests. The purpose of a test is to show what you have learned about a subject. The world won't end if you don't pass a test, so don't worry excessively about a single test. Tests provide grades, but they also let you know what you need to spend more time studying, and they help make your knowledge permanent.
　　There are other techniques that might help you with your studying. Only a few have been mentioned here. You will probably discover many others after you have tried these. Talk with your classmates about their study techniques. Share with them some of the techniques you have found to be helpful. Improving your study habits will improve your grades.

It was dreadfully cold, it was snowing fast, and almost dark； the evening----the last evening of the old year was drawing in. But, cold and dark as it was, a poor little girl, with bare head and feet, was still wandering about the streets. When she left her home she had slippers on, but they were much too large for her； indeed, properly, they belonged to her mother, and had dropped off her feet whilst she was running very fast across the road, to get out of the way of two carriages. One of the slippers was not to be found, the other had been snatched up by a little boy, who ran off with it thinking it might serve him as a doll's cradle.

　　天气非常非常冷，雪下得很大，夜幕已降临。这是旧年最后的一夜--除夕之夜。尽管天气是那么的寒冷和黑暗，一个贫穷的小女孩，光头赤脚仍在大街上徘徊。当她离家出门的时候，脚上穿着一双拖鞋，那是一双相当大的拖鞋--的确太大了，那是她妈妈穿着合适的一双拖鞋。当她匆忙横穿马路的时候，两辆马车飞快地闯过来，吓得她把拖鞋跑丢了。一只怎么也找不到，另一只被一个小男孩抢跑了。他想，这只鞋可以当做玩具娃娃睡觉的摇篮。

　So the little girl now walked on, her bare feet quite red and blue with the cold. She carried a small bundle of matches in her hand, and a good many more in her tattered apron. No one had bought any of them the live long day； no one had given her a single penny. Trembling with cold and hunger crept she on, the picture of sorrow: poor little child!

　　现在这小女孩只好光着脚在街上行走，一双脚步冻得又红又青。她那破旧的围裙兜着许多火柴，手里还拿着一小捆。可整整一天谁也没有向她买过一根--谁也没有给她一个铜板。她又饿又冷，哆哆嗦嗦地向前走着，这是一幅非常凄惨的景象：可怜的小姑娘！

　　The snow-flakes fell on her long, fair hair, which curled in such pretty ringlets over her shoulders； but she thought not of her own beauty, or of the cold. Lights were glimmering through every window, and the savor of roast goose reached her from several houses； it was New Year's eve, and it was of this that she thought.

　　雪花落在她那金黄色的头发上--长长的卷发披散在肩上，看起来十分美丽，可她想不到自己的漂亮。从每扇窗子透出的亮光和飘出的烤鹅肉香味，使她想起的只是今天是除夕之夜。In a corner formed by two houses, one of which projected beyond the other. She sat down, drawing her little feet close under her, but in vain, she could not warm them. She dared not go home, she had sold no matches, earned not a single penny, and perhaps her father would beat her， besides her home was almost as cold as the street， it was an attic； and although the larger of the many chinks in the roof were stopped up with straw and rags. the wind and snow often penetrated through. Her hands were nearly dead with cold； one little match from her bundle would warm them. Perhaps, if she dared light it, she drew one out, and struck it against the wall, bravo! it was a bright, warm flame, and she held her hands over it. It was quite an illumination for that poor little girl； nay,1 call it rather a magic taper, for it seemed to her as though she was sitting before a large iron-stove with brass ornaments, so beautifully blazed the fire within! The child stretched out her feet to warm them also； alas, in an instant the flame had died away, the stove vanished, the little girl sat cold and comfortless, with the burnt match in her hand.

　　街边一前一后坐落着两座房子，形成一个小墙角，她蹲在墙角里，把一双小脚卷缩到身下坐了下来，可是没有用，她还是不觉得暖和。她不敢回家，因为她还没有卖掉一根火柴，没有挣到一个铜板，她的父亲也许会因此打她，况且她家几乎和大街上一样冷。那是一间阁楼，虽然屋顶上几个较大的裂口用草和破布堵住了，可风和雪还是不时地灌进来，她那双小手差不多冻僵了。她想，只要她敢抽出一根火柴，在墙上擦燃，就可以暖手，终于她抽出了一根。哧！火柴燃起来了，冒出了火苗。当她双手覆在上面时，它变成了一朵光明、温暖的火焰，象一根奇妙的小蜡烛。小姑娘觉得自己象坐在一个大火炉旁边一样，铁炉镶有铮亮的黄铜花边和底座。火烧得多么旺，多么好啊！小姑娘刚刚伸出她的一双脚，打算暖一下的时候，哎呀！这是怎么样一回事儿？火焰忽然熄灭了！火炉也不见了。她坐在那儿，手里捏着那烧过的火柴，又回到了寒冷和孤单之中。

　　A second match was struck against the wall； it kindles and blazed, and wherever its light fell the wall became transparent as a ... (全文...)