Great white sharks! Just hearing that name makes many people’s hair stand on end. In reality, these big fish have more to fear from us than we do from them. For many years, people killed countless great white sharks in the waters around the United States.

But thanks to conservation (保护) efforts, great whites are making a comeback in the U.S. Two recent studies show that the population of these sharks is rising along the east and west coast.

Why is the growing population of a killer fish something to celebrate? “When you fish too many of them, you start to lose balance in the environment,” says shark researcher Tobey Curtis. As the biggest killer, sharks help keep the populations of fish, seals, and other creatures they eat from growing too large.

In spite of their importance, great white sharks had long been hunted for their meat and their fins (鳍). Then, in 1997, the U.S. government passed a law that didn’t allow the hunting of great whites. Afterwards, the numbers of these sharks in the U.S. waters started to increase.

The law wasn’t the only thing that has helped great whites. Conservationists have also played a part in the sharks’ comeback. The research group OCEARCH is using a method called tagging (加标签) to help change people’s attitudes about great white. They let the public follow each shark as it travels the world’s oceans. OCEARCH also gives each tagged shark a name to help people form a closer connection with the big fish.

The group’s most well-known shark is named Katharine. She was tagged last year near Cape Cod, Massachusetts. Since then, thousands of people have tracked Katharine’s movements on Twitter and the OCEARCH website.

This helps people see sharks in a new way. Chris Fischer, the founder of OCEARCH believes learning to appreciate great whites will encourage people to do more to protect them.

1.The underlined part “makes many people’s hair stand on end” in Paragraph 1 can best be replaced by______.

A. worries many people B. bores many people

C. frightens many people D. interests many people

2.The law passed in 1997 ______.

A. seemed very helpful

B. let scientists down

C. needed to be changed

D. made people like great whites

3.Katharine’s example is used to show that ______.

A. great whites are in fact lovely animals

B. the OCEARCH website has a lot of visitors

C. the number of great whites is growing quickly

D. OCEARCH help people get closer to great whites

4.The main purpose of the passage is to ______.

A. introduce an experiment result

B. make an advertisement for OCEARCH

C. remind us that big killers are dying out

D. inform us that great whites are making a comeback

Dear Guys,

I’d like to talk to you about the shame you subjected me to last night. Let me first refresh your memory: You, a group of fit, young men, were playing soccer on the field across from my apartment building. I, a better-than-average looking young woman, was walking along the sidewalk with my groceries. That’s when your ball came flying over the fence and landed in front of me.

One of you approached and asked politely if I would throw the ball back to you. Fighting the urge to drop my bags and run screaming down the street, I reluctantly (勉强地) agreed.

Before I continue, let me explain something that I didn’t have a chance to mention last night: I hate sports. More specifically, I hate sports involving balls. This results from my lack of natural ability when it comes to throwing, catching and hitting. I’m bad at aiming too. So you can understand why I’d be nervous at what I’m sure seemed to you like a laughably simple request.

However, wanting to appear agreeable, I put my bags down, picked up the ball and, eyes half-shut, and threw it as hard as I could.

It hit the middle of the fence and bounced back to me.

Trying to act casually, I said something about being out of practice, and then picked up the ball again. If you’ll remember, at your command, I agreed to try throwing underhand. While outwardly I was smiling, in my head, I was praying, oh God, oh please oh please oh please. I threw the ball upward with all my strength, terrified by what happened next.

The ball hit slightly higher up on the fence and bounced back to me.

This is the point where I start to take issue with you. Wouldn’t it have been a better use of your time, and mine, if you had just walked around the fence and took the ball then? I was clearly struggling; my smiles were more and more forced. And yet, you all just stood there, motionless.

Seeing that you weren’t going to let me out of the trouble, I became desperate. Memories of middle school softball came flooding back. I tried hard to throw the ball but it only went about eight feet, then I decided to pick it up and dash with ball in hand towards the baseline, while annoyed thirteen-year-old boys screamed at me that I was ruining their lives. Children are cruel.

Being a big girl now, I pushed those memories aside and picked up the soccer ball for the third time. I forced a good-natured laugh while crying inside as you patiently shouted words of support over the fence at me.

“Throw it granny-style!” one of you said.

“Just back up a little and give it all you’ve got!” another offered.

And, most embarrassing of all, “You can do it!”

I know you thought you were being encouraging, but it only served to deepen the shame.

Anyway, I accepted your ball-throwing advice, backed up, rocked back and forth a little, took a deep breath and let it fly.

It hit the edge of the fence and bounced back to me.

I surprised myself—and I’m sure you as well—by letting out a cry, “DAMN IT!!!” I then willed myself to have a heart attack and pass out in front of you just so I’d be put out of my misery.

Alas, the heart attack didn’t happen, and you continued to look at me expectantly, like you were content to do this all night. I had become a sort of exhibition for you. I could feel your collective thoughts drifting through the chain-link: “Can she really not do it? But I mean, really?”

Unfortunately for you, I wasn’t really game to continue your experiment. Three failed attempts at a simple task in front of a group of people in a two-minute period were just enough blows for me for one night. I picked up the ball one last time, approached the fence and grumbled, “Please just come get the damn ball.”

And you did. And thanks to you, I decided at that very moment to never throw anything ever again, except disrespectful glances at people who play sports.

Sincerely,

Jen Cordery

1.The writer agreed to throw the ball because ______.

A.she needed to have a relax carrying the heavy groceries

B.she wanted to refresh her childhood memories

C.she could not refuse the polite request from the young man

D.she had fallen in love with the young man at first sight

2.Which of the following is closet in meaning to the underlined word “game”?

A.anxious B.brave C.afraid D.curious

3.Why did the writer mention her middle school memory?

A.To explain why she failed the attempts to throw the ball back.

B.To complain that she had not mastered the ball throwing skills.

C.To show how cruel those 13-year-old boys were.

D.To express her dislike towards softball.

4.What the boys said before the writer’s third attempt actually made the writer ________.

A.inspired B.encouraged C.awkward D.depressed

5.What happened to the ball at last?

A.The writer managed to throw the ball back.

B.The boy got the ball back by himself.

C.The writer threw the ball away out of anger.

D.The boys got angry and left without the ball.

6.What’s the writer’s purpose in writing this open letter?

A.To express her regret over what she did the day before.

B.To announce that she would never play all games again.

C.To joke on her inability to throw the ball over the fence.

D.To criticize the young men for their cruelty to her dignity.

I have happy memories of trips to Europe, but my trip to Romania (罗马尼亚) was unique. When I was there as recalled, it was like being in a “James Bond” movie. My husband was born there, but his family sent him to study in Italy. Before he left, his mother told him, “As long as I write in pencil, don’t come back. When I write to you in pen, it’s safe to return.” But she never wrote in pen.

My husband lived a poor life in Italy. He applied to go to America, but there was a limit in number and he was rejected. He was accepted by Canada, though, and from Calgary he jumped onto a train to San Francisco. There he stayed —illegally. He became a US citizen when we got married. By then he was a charming European with a Romanian accent and the manners of a prince.

With seven years’ experience in America, a US passport, and two children later, he felt it was safe to visit Romania. He hadn’t seen his mother, two sisters, and two brothers since he was sixteen. We flew to Munich, Germany; picked up the German-made car we had purchased in the States; and drove to Romania via Austria and Hungary. When we reached Bucharest, the capital city of Romania, his family was waiting outside his sister’s house to greet us. After a long time of hugging, kissing, and crying, his family also hugged me, the American wife with two young children. They had great interest in me. Few Americans visited Romania at that time, and most Romanians had little chance to travel. I had brought an English-Romanian dictionary with me and managed to communicate, using only nouns, with no verbs. My Romanian improved, and the family’s stock of English words increased, but mostly I spoke in broken, New York-accented Romanian. The sisters loved their gifts of skirts and purses, the brothers loved the radios, and the children loved the candy. We made side trips to the Black Sea and enjoyed sightseeing in beautiful mountains. Dining at outdoor cafes to the music of violins was fantastic with fancy flavor, but nothing was as special as family dinners.

Romania didn’t have many dry cleaners. Most homes had old-fashioned washing machines but no dryers, and it was a hot summer. My husband’s relatives didn’t want to risk dirtying their clothes. Their solution was as simple as it was shocking: the women only wore their bras(胸罩) and slips (衬裙) at dinner table. The men were eating without shirts. They all had jobs, so time was precious. Having dinner without proper clothes was a small inconvenience compared with the effort of washing clothes —at least in my husband’s home, perhaps all across Romania. I, of course, having just met them, ate fully clothed. I washed my clothes by hand and hung them outdoors to dry.

On the last night of our three-week stay, we had a large family dinner. I was tired of washing my clothes. So I pulled my dress over my head and placed it on the chair behind me. All men and women applauded for my action. Even with my poor Romanian, I understood that they were saying, “She’s part of our family now.”

My children were 4 and 5 at the time, but they still have memories of that trip. They know how to say, “Good morning.” and “There are apricots (杏子) on the tree.” I can still say, “Do you speak Romanian?” and “I swim in the Black Sea.” But most of all, I remember sitting at a long dining-room table in my bra, enjoying meatballs with fresh garlic (大蒜).

1.From Para.1, we learn that ________.

A. a trip to Europe would be dangerous

B. the mother didn’t want to see her son

C. Romania might be unsafe at that time

D. the mother didn’t like to write in pen

2.The writer’s husband became an American citizen through ________.

A. experiences B. application

C. illegal stay D. marriage

3.What made the writer feel special about the family dinner in Romania?

A. The way people dressed .

B. The way people spoke.

C. The fantastic violin music.

D. The fancy food flavor.

4.The writer was completely accepted by her husband’s family when ________.

A. she offered gifts to the whole family

B. she spoke her husband’s language

C. she washed all the clothes by hand

D. she had dinner in bra like other ladies

5.The writer shared her story to say ________.

A. “East or west, home is the best”

B. “When in Rome do as the Romans do”

C. “Marry a dog and follow the dog forever”

D. “The course of true love never runs smooth”

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