题目内容
I ________ all my old magazines , and was beginning to get tired.
- A.looked through
- B.was looking through
- C.had looked through
- D.would be looking through
As I sat beside the window of our classroom that afternoon, my heart sank further with each passing car. This was a day I’d looked forward to for weeks: Miss Pace’s fourth-grade, end-of-the-year party.
I had happily volunteered my mother when Miss Pace looked for cookie volunteers. Mom’s chocolate chips were well-known, and I knew they’d be a hit with my classmates. But two o’clock passed, and there was no sign of her. Most of the other mothers had already come and gone, dropping off their sweet offerings.
The three o’clock bell soon took me away from my thoughts and I took my book bag from my desk.
I decided I would slam the front door, and refuse to return her hug. But when I arrived, she wasn’t at home.
I was lying face-down on my bed upstairs when I heard her come through the front door.
“Robbie,” she called out a bit urgently. “Where are you?”
I could then hear her rushing anxiously from room to room, wondering where I could be. I remained silent.
Coming through the door, she said: “I’m so sorry, honey,” she said. “I just forgot. I got busy and forgot.”
Then my mother did something completely unexpected. She began to laugh! How could she laugh at a time like this? I rolled over and faced her, ready to let her see my rage (愤怒).
But my mother wasn’t laughing at all. She was crying. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I let you down. I let my little boy down.”
I was moved by her tears.
I tried to remember her kind words from times past when I’d skinned knees or cut myself, times when she knew just the right thing to say.
“It’s okay, Mom. We didn’t even need those cookies. There was plenty of stuff to eat. Don’t cry. It’s all right. Really.”
We didn’t say another word. We just held each other. When we came to the point where I would usually pull away, I decided that, this time, I could hold on, perhaps, just a little bit longer.
【小题1】. The author was pretty down because ______.
A.he couldn’t go to the party he had been looking forward to |
B.his mother didn’t turn up at the party as she had promised |
C.his mother had refused to make chocolate chips for the party |
D.the cookies his mom made was not popular at the party |
A.he was so angry that he slammed the front door |
B.he was silent and refused to return his mother’s hug |
C.he rushed from room to room looking for his mother |
D.he was disappointed that he couldn’t express his anger to his mother |
A.the mother didn’t get to the party because of the traffic jam |
B.the mother was sorry for her absence and laughed at herself |
C.the author was a caring and thoughtful boy |
D.the author was overcome with anger |
A.it is silly to be angry with your family |
B.everybody should keep his or her promises |
C.true love is based on understanding |
D.understanding how to comfort people in low spirits is a true skill |
Though I have traveled in hundreds of trains, few unusual things have ever happened to me. But one day in a train something did happen. I do not mean that I was hurt: no one was hurt.
I do my work in a hot country far away from England. Every September I go there to do my business, and every July I come back to England to have a rest. So every September I go to Paris and take a train from the great French city to Mendova, and at Mendova I catch my ship.
There is one very fast train from Paris to Mendova, and it suits me well. It goes as far as Endoran, but it stops at Mendova for a few minutes to let travelers get out or in. It is called The Flying Bluebird. It reaches Mendova at seven minutes past nine in the morning, and it is never late.
A ship leaves Mendova at half past eleven, and so you will understand that The Flying Bluebird suits me very well. I always travel by it, and I have nearly two and a half hours at Mendova to go from the station to the ship. That is more than enough time.
Well, one September night, I took my place in The Flying Bluebird as usual. The train leaves Paris at nine o’clock every night, and I was in my place soon after half past eight. There were three or four people there with me, but very soon a lot of others got into the train. When no more people could sit down, they began to stand up near us and also in the corridor(走廊). In a short time the corridor was full too, and it was impossible for any more travelers to get into the train.
I could see a lot of other people outside the corridor windows, but they could not get in, and the train left Paris without them. The man sitting next to me started to ask all kinds of questions: “Where do you work? How long does it take you to get there? Are you married? How many children do you have? How much money do they pay you every year? How much do you have in the bank? How much do you spend every month?”
He asked questions for about twenty minutes but I did not give him any clear answers, and at last he stopped and began to read the paper.
I usually sleep quite well in the train, but this time I slept only a little. There were too many people, and there were too many things: small bags, large bags, coats, hats, boxes, newspapers and food. As usual, we got angry about the window. Most people wanted it shut, and two of us wanted it open. But that always happens. It was shut all night, as usual.
When I awoke in the early morning I felt hot and dirty, and glad that the journey was reaching its end. At seven minutes past nine The Flying Bluebird stopped. We were at Mendova, and I stood up thankfully. I took my two suitcases, held one in each hand, and tried to move towards the door into the corridor. In order to get out of the train, I had to pass down the corridor to the door at the far end. There was no other way out.
I could not even into the corridor. There was a suitcase on the floor by my feet, and three men were standing in my way. I felt a touch of fear. I had to get out, you see; I had to catch my ship, which left at half past eleven. And the train did not stop again until it reached Endoran, two hundred miles away.
“I must get out!” I cried. Everyone there understood me, but no one could move.
At last I was able to put one foot over the suitcase on the floor, and I nearly reached the door into the corridor. But then, very slowly, the train began to move. It was taking me away!
“Stop!” I cried. “I want to get out!” But no one outside the train could hear me, and the people inside did not care much. The train moved a little faster. What could I do? I was not even in the corridor.
Fear made me think quickly. In front of my eyes, just, above the door, was a notice that told everyone how to stop the train. I had to pull an iron thing near the notice. I did not waste time. I pulled it.
Well, a noise started above our heads. That was to show everyone that there was something wrong. It was not a small sound. Possibly the men in my ship two miles away could hear it. Then the train stopped.
No one likes to stop a train if there is no need. But I had to catch my ship. That was the only thought in my mind: to get out and catch my ship.
【小题1】The purpose of the author writing the first paragraph is to __________.
A.answer some questions | B.express some unusual feelings |
C.arouse the readers’ curiosity | D.give some advice in advance |
A.They talked with each other all night |
B.They got angry about the window |
C.The author didn’t understand the man’s words |
D.The author didn’t like the man’s foolish questions |
A.he couldn’t find a seat by the window |
B.he was angry with the man sitting next to him |
C.there were too many people on the train |
D.the window was kept shut all night |
A.he would have to spend another sleepless night on the train |
B.he would miss the ship that went where he worked |
C.more people might crowd into the train |
D.he would have to buy another ticket |
A.the angry passengers shouting at the top of their voices |
B.the ship that was lying two miles away |
C.the falling of boxes and suitcases to the floor |
D.the train itself telling people that something was wrong |
A.A Bad Experience on the Train | B.A Train that Is Never Late |
C.A Quick and Wise Decision | D.A Journey to Mendova |