At Blossom End Railroad Station, 22-year-old Stanley Vine sat, waiting for his new employer. The surrounding green fields were so unlike the muddy landscape of war-torn France. After four horrible years as an army private fighting in Europe, Stanley had returned to England in February 1946. Armed now with some savings and with no prospects for a job in England, he answered a newspaper ad for farm help in Canada. Two months later he was on his way.
When the old car rumbled (发着辘辘声) toward the tiny station, Stanley rose to his feet, trying to make the most of his five foot and four inches frame. The farmer, Alphonse Lapine, shook his head and complained, “You’re a skinny thing.” On the way to his dairy farm, Alphonse explained that he had a wife and seven kids. “Money is tight. You’ll get room and board. You’ll get up at dawn for milking, and then help me around the farm until evening milking time again. Ten dollars a week. Sundays off.” Stanley nodded. He had never been on a farm before, but he took the job.
From the beginning Stanley was treated horribly by the whole family. They made fun of the way he dressed and talked. He could do nothing right. The humourless farmer frequently lost his temper, criticizing Stanley for the slightest mistake. The oldest son, 13-year-old Armand, constantly played tricks on him. But the kind-hearted Stanley never responded.
Stanley never became part of the Lapine family. After work, they ignored him. He spend his nights alone in a tiny bedroom. However, each evening before retiring, he lovingly cared for the farmer’s horses, eagerly awaiting him at the field gate. He called them his gentle giants. On Saturday nights he hitch-hiked into the nearest town and wandered the streets or enjoyed a restaurant meal before returning to the farm.
Early one November morning Alphonse Lapine discovered that Stanley had disappeared, after only six months as his farmhand. The railway station master, when questioned later that week, said he had not seen him. In fact no one in the community ever heard of him again. That is, until one evening, almost 20 years later, when Armand, opened an American sports magazine and came across a shocking headline, “Millionaire jockey (赛马骑师), Stanley Vine, ex-British soldier and 5-time horse riding champion, began life in North America as a farmhand in Canada.”
【小题1】Stanley Vine decided to go to Canada because ___________.

A.he wanted to escape from war-torn France
B.he wanted to serve in the Canadian army
C.he couldn’t find a job in England
D.he loved working as a farmhand
【小题2】Which of the following is TRUE according to the passage?
A.Stanley joined the French army when he was 18 years old.
B.On the farm Stanley had to milk the cows 14 times a week.
C.The Lapine family were very rich but cruel to Stanley.
D.Stanely read about the job offer in a newspaper.
【小题3】What did Stanley like doing after work each day?
A.Hitch-hiking to different towns.
B.Caring for the farmer’s horses.
C.Wandering around the farm alone.
D.Preparing meals on the farm.
【小题4】Why was Armand so astonished when he read about Stanley in the magazine?
A.He didn’t know Stanley had been a British soldier.
B.He had no idea Stanley had always been a wealthy man.
C.He didn’t know his father paid Stanley so little money.
D.He didn’t expect Stanley to become such a success.

On his bench in Madison Square Soapy moved uneasily, and he realized the fact that the time had come for him to provide against the coming winter.

The winter ambitions of Soapy were not of the highest. In them there were no dreams of Mediterranean voyages or blue Southern skies. Three months on the Island was what his soul desired. Three months of assured board and bed and good company, safe from north winds seemed to Soapy the most desirable thing.

Just as the more fortunate New Yorkers had bought their tickets to Palm Beach each winter, Soapy had made his arrangements for his annual journey to the Island. And now the time had come.

There were many institutions of charity in New York where he might receive lodging and food, but to Soapy’s proud spirit the gifts of charity were undesirable. You must pay in humiliation of spirit for everything received at the hands of mercy. So it was better to be a guest of the law.

Soapy, having decided to go to the Island, at once set about accomplishing his desire. He left his bench and went up Broadway. He stopped at the door of a glittering cafe. He was shaven and his coat was decent. If he could reach a table in the restaurant, the portion of him that would show above the table would raise no doubt in the waiter’s mind. A roasted duck, with a bottle of wine, a cigar and a cup of coffee would be enough. Such a dinner would make him happy, for the journey to his winter refuge.

But as Soapy entered the restaurant door, the head waiter’s eye fell upon his shabby trousers and old shoes. Strong hands pushed him in silence and haste out into the street.

Some other way of entering the desirable refuge must be found.

At a corner of Sixth Avenue Soapy took a stone and sent it through the glass of a glittering shop window. People came running around the corner, a policeman at the head of them. Soapy stood still, with his hands in his pockets, and smiled at the sight of the policeman.

“Where is the man that has done that?” asked the policeman.

“Don’t you think that I have had something to do with it?” said Soapy, friendly.

The policeman paid no attention to Soapy. Men who break windows don’t remain to speak with policemen. They run away. He saw a man running and rushed after him, stick in hand. Soapy, disgusted, walked along, twice unsuccessful.

On the opposite side of the street was a restaurant for people with large appetites and modest purses. Soapy entered this place without difficulty. He sat at a table and ate beefsteak and pie. And then he told the waiter he had no money.

“Go and call a cop,” said Soapy. “And don’t keep a gentleman waiting.”

“No cop for you,” said the waiter. “Hey!”

Then Soapy found himself lying upon his left ear on the pavement. He arose with difficulty, and beat the dust from his clothes. Arrest seemed a rosy dream. The Island seemed far away.

After another unsuccessful attempt to be arrested for harassing a young woman, Soapy went further toward the district of theatres.

When he saw a policeman standing in front of a glittering theatre, he thought of “disorderly conduct”. On the sidewalk Soapy began to sing drunken songs at the top of his voice. He danced, cried, and otherwise disturbed the peace.

The policeman turned his back to Soapy, and said to a citizen, “It is one of the Yale boys celebrating their football victory. Noisy, but no harm.”

Sadly, Soapy stopped his useless singing and dancing. The Island seemed unattainable. He buttoned his thin coat against the north wind.

In a cigar store he saw a well-dressed man who had set his silk umbrella by the door. Soapy entered the store, took the umbrella, and went out with it slowly. The man with the cigar followed hastily.

“My umbrella,” he said.

“Oh, is it?” said Soapy. “Well, why don’t you call a policeman? I took your umbrella! Why don’t you call a cop? There stands one on the corner.”

The umbrella owner slowed his steps. Soapy did likewise. The policeman looked at them curiously.

“Of course,” said the umbrella man, “well, you know how these mistakes occur…if it’s your umbrella I hope you’ll excuse me – I picked it up this morning in a restaurant – if it’s yours, I hope you’ll…”

“Of course it’s mine,” said Soapy.

The ex-umbrella man retreated. The policeman hurried to help a well-dressed woman across the street.

Soapy threw the umbrella angrily. He was angry with the men who wear helmets and carry clubs. They seemed to regard him as a king who could do no wrong.

At last Soapy stopped before an old church on a quiet corner. Through one window a soft light glowed, where, the organist played a Sunday anthem. For there came to Soapy’s ears sweet music that caught and held him at the iron fence.

The moon was shining; cars and pedestrians were few; birds twittered sleepily under the roof. And the anthem that the organist played cemented Soapy to the iron fence, for he had known it well in the days when his life contained such things as mothers and roses and ambitions and friends.

The influence of the music and the old church produced a sudden and wonderful change in Soapy’s soul. He thought of his degraded days, dead hopes and wrecked faculties.

And also in a moment a strong impulse moved him to battle with his desperate fate. He would pull himself out of this pit; he would make a man of himself again. Those sweet notes had set up a revolution in him. Tomorrow he would be somebody in the world. He would…

Soapy felt a hand on his arm. He looked quickly around into the broad face of a policeman.

“What are you doing here?”

“Nothing.”

“Then come along,” said the policeman.

“Three months on the Island,” said the Judge the next morning.

1.Soapy regarded the Island as his winter ambition because _____.

A. he wanted to go on Mediterranean voyages and enjoy blue Southern skies

B. he wanted to spend the cold winter somewhere warm other than New York

C. he wanted to be put into prison to survive the coming winter

D. he wanted to buy a ticket to the Island to spend the cold winter

2.Which of the following is the reason for Soapy’s not turning to charity?

A. His pride gets in the way.

B. What the institutions of charity offer isn’t what Soapy needs.

C. He wants to be a citizen who obeys the law.

D. The institutions of charity are not located on the island.

3. How many times did Soapy try to accomplish his desire?

A. 4.                                       B. 5.                                       C. 6.                                       D. 7.

4. From the passage, we can see what the two restaurants have in common is that _____.

A. they are both fancy upper class restaurants

B. neither of them served Soapy

C. they both drove Soapy out of the restaurant after he finished his meal

D. neither of them called cops

5.Hearing the Sunday anthem at the church, Soapy _____.

A. was reminded of his good old days and wanted to play the anthem again

B. was reminded of his unaccomplished ambition and was determined to get to the Island

C. was reminded of his disgraceful past and determined to transform himself

D. was reminded of his rosy dream and wished to realize it

6.By ending the story this way, the author means to _____.

A. show that one always gets what he/she wants with enough efforts

B. make a contrast and criticize the sick society

C. surprise readers by proving justice was done after all

D. put a tragic end to Soapy’s life and show his sympathy for Soapy

 

Most mornings, the line begins to form at dawn: scores of silent women with babies on their backs, buckets balanced on their heads, and in each hand a bright-blue plastic jug. On good days, they will wait less than an hour before a water tanker goes across the dirt path that serves as a road in Kesum Purbahari, a slum on the southern edge of New Delhi. On bad days, when there is no electricity for the pumps, the tankers don’t come at all. “That water kills people,” a young mother named Shoba said one recent Saturday morning, pointing to a row of pails filled with thick, caramel (焦糖)-colored liquid. “Whoever drinks it will die.” The water was from a pipe shared by thousands of people in the poor neibourhood. Women often use it to wash clothes and bathe their children, but no­body is desperate enough to drink it.

  There is no standard for how much water a person needs each day, but ex­perts usually put the minimum at fifty li­tres. The government of India promises (but rarely provides) forty. Most people drink two or three litres—less than it takes to wash a toilet. The rest is typically used for cooking and bathing. Americans consume between four hundred and six hundred litres of water each day, more than any other people on earth. Most Europeans use less than half that. The women of Kesum Purbahari each hoped to drag away a hundred litres that day—two or three buckets’ worth. Shoba has a husband and five children, and that much water doesn’t go far in a family of seven, particularly when the temperature reaches a hundred and ten degrees before noon. She often makes up the difference with bottled water, which costs more than water delivered any other way. Sometimes she just buys milk; it’s cheaper. Like the poorest people every­where, the people of New Delhi’s slums spend a far greater percentage of their incomes on water than anyone lucky enough to live in a house connected to a system of pipes.

1.The underlined word “slum” most likely means ______.

A. a village

B. a small town

C. the part of a town that lacks water badly

D. an area of a town with badly-built, over-crowded buildings

2.Sometimes the water tanker doesn’t come because ______.

A. there is no electricity             B. the weather is bad

C. there is no water            D. people don’t want the dirty water

3.A person needs at least ________ litres of water a day.

A. forty           B. four hundred         C. a hundred      D. fifty

4.The passage mainly tells us ______.

A. how India government manages to solve the problem of water gets their water

B. how women in Kesum Purbahari

C. how much water a day a person deeds

D. that India lacks water badly

 

At Blossom End Railroad Station, 22-year-old Stanley Vine sat, waiting for his new employer. The surrounding green fields were so unlike the muddy landscape of war-torn France. After four horrible years as an army private fighting in Europe, Stanley had returned to England in February 1946. Armed now with some savings and with no prospects for a job in England, he answered a newspaper ad for farm help in Canada. Two months later he was on his way.

When the old car rumbled (发着辘辘声) toward the tiny station, Stanley rose to his feet, trying to make the most of his five foot and four inches frame. The farmer, Alphonse Lapine, shook his head and complained, “You’re a skinny thing.” On the way to his dairy farm, Alphonse explained that he had a wife and seven kids. “Money is tight. You’ll get room and board. You’ll get up at dawn for milking, and then help me around the farm until evening milking time again. Ten dollars a week. Sundays off.” Stanley nodded. He had never been on a farm before, but he took the job.

From the beginning Stanley was treated horribly by the whole family. They made fun of the way he dressed and talked. He could do nothing right. The humourless farmer frequently lost his temper, criticizing Stanley for the slightest mistake. The oldest son, 13-year-old Armand, constantly played tricks on him. But the kind-hearted Stanley never responded.

Stanley never became part of the Lapine family. After work, they ignored him. He spend his nights alone in a tiny bedroom. However, each evening before retiring, he lovingly cared for the farmer’s horses, eagerly awaiting him at the field gate. He called them his gentle giants. On Saturday nights he hitch-hiked into the nearest town and wandered the streets or enjoyed a restaurant meal before returning to the farm.

Early one November morning Alphonse Lapine discovered that Stanley had disappeared, after only six months as his farmhand. The railway station master, when questioned later that week, said he had not seen him. In fact no one in the community ever heard of him again. That is, until one evening, almost 20 years later, when Armand, opened an American sports magazine and came across a shocking headline, “Millionaire jockey (赛马骑师), Stanley Vine, ex-British soldier and 5-time horse riding champion, began life in North America as a farmhand in Canada.”

1.Stanley Vine decided to go to Canada because ___________.

A.he wanted to escape from war-torn France

B.he wanted to serve in the Canadian army

C.he couldn’t find a job in England

D.he loved working as a farmhand

2.Which of the following is TRUE according to the passage?

A.Stanley joined the French army when he was 18 years old.

B.On the farm Stanley had to milk the cows 14 times a week.

C.The Lapine family were very rich but cruel to Stanley.

D.Stanely read about the job offer in a newspaper.

3.What did Stanley like doing after work each day?

A.Hitch-hiking to different towns.

B.Caring for the farmer’s horses.

C.Wandering around the farm alone.

D.Preparing meals on the farm.

4.Why was Armand so astonished when he read about Stanley in the magazine?

A.He didn’t know Stanley had been a British soldier.

B.He had no idea Stanley had always been a wealthy man.

C.He didn’t know his father paid Stanley so little money.

D.He didn’t expect Stanley to become such a success.

 

Three boys and three girls were going to Fort Lauderdale and when they boarded the bus,they were carrying sandwiches and wine in paper bags,dreaming of golden beaches as the gray cold of New York vanished behind them.

As the bus passed through New Jersey,they began to notice Vingo, He sat in front of them,dressed in a plain,ill-fitting suit,never moving,his dusty face masking his age. He kept chewing the inside of his lip a lot,frozen into some personal cocoon of silence.

Deep into the night,outside Washington,the bus pulled into Howard Johnson's,and everybody got off except Vingo. He sat rooted in his seat,and the young people began to wonder about him,trying to imagine his life:perhaps he was a sea captain,a runaway from his wife,an old soldier going home. When they went back to the bus,one of the girls sat beside him and introduced herself.

"We're going to Florida,” she said brightly, “I hear it's really beautiful.”

“It is,”he said quietly,as if remembering something he had tried to forget.

"Want some wine?" she said. He smiled and took a swig.  He thanked her and once again returned to his silence. After a while,she went back to the others,and Vingo nodded in his sleep.

In the morning,they awoke outside another Howard Johnson's.And this time Vingo went in.  The girl insisted that he join them.  He seemed very shy, and ordered black coffee and smoked nervously as the young people chattered about sleeping on beaches. When they returned to the bus,the girl sat with Vingo again,and after a while, slowly and painfully,he told his story. He had been in jail in New York for the past four years,and now he was going home.

“Are you married?”

“I don't know.

“You don’t know?” she said.

“Well,when I was in jail I wrote to my wife,”he said. “I told her that I was going to be away a long time,and that if she couldn't stand it.if the kids kept asking questions,if it hurt too much,well she could just forget me, I'd understand. Get a new guy,I said she's a wonderful woman,really something and forget about me. I told her she didn't have to write me for nothing.  And she didn't.  Not for three and a half years.”

"And you’re going home now,not knowing?”

“Yeah,”he said shyly. “Well,last week,when I was sure the parole (假释) was coming through, I wrote her again.  We used to live in Brunswick,just before Jacksonville,and there’s a big oak (橡树) tree just as you came into town. I told her that if she'd take me back,she should put a yellow handkerchief on the tree,and I'd get off and come home,  If she didn't want me, forget it, no handkerchief,and I'd go on through.”

"Vow,” the girl exclaimed. "Wow.”

She told the others,and noon all of them were in it, caught up in the approach of Brunswick,looking at the pictures Vingo showed them of his wife and three children. The woman was handsome in a plain way,the children still unformed in the much-handled snapshots.

Now they were 20 miles from Brunswick, and the young people took over window seat on the right side,waiting for the approach of the great oak tree. The bus acquired a dark,hushed mood,full of the silence of absence and lost years. Vingo stopped looking, tightening his face into the ex-con's mask, as if fortifying himself against still another disappointment.

Then Brunswick was ten miles, and then five. Then,suddenly,all of the young people were up out of their seats,screaming and shouting and crying,doing small dances of joy. All except Vingo.

Vingo sat there stunned,looking at the oak tree. It was covered with yellow handkerchiefs,20 of them,30 of them,maybe hundreds,a tree that stood like a banner of welcome billowing in the wind. As the young people shouted,the old rose and made his way to the front of the bus to go home.

1.Which is right about Vingo?

A.He was a sea captain.

B.He was a runaway from his wife,

C.He was an old soldier going home.

D.He was a prisoner.

2. The underlined word "`exclaimed" probably indicates that the girl was“______”

A. surprised        B:  angry         C:  embarrassed     D.  puzzled

3. From the story,we know that

A.the young people and Vingo loved New York

B.Vingo dressed himself decently

C.Vingo's Wife didn't write to him because she didn't miss him

D.the young people were happy for Vingo because he could went home

4.What is the best title for the story?

A.An Unexpected Return

B.Forgiving My Absence

C.Going Home

D.The Old Oak Tree

 

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