An explosion on Thursday killed one and injured 21 in a busy street in Tongren, Southwest China’s Guizhou Province.

　　The bomb was hidden in a rubbish bin in the city’s commercial hub（商业中心），where lots of shops and restaurants are concentrated.

　　The ear-splitting blast was heard around 12∶50 p.m.，said a local newspaper, citing witnesses. The power of the blast shattered（使粉碎）nearby shop windows and ripped the stainless（不生锈的）steel rubbish can to pieces.

　　One passer-by，identified（确认）only as Zhang，said she was shocked by the noise and saw a lot of pedestrians lying on the ground when she got to the scene.

　　Thirteen of the injured were taken to a local hospital after the explosion. A doctor there said five were in serious condition but already out of danger after emergency treatment. The others were just slightly hurt.

　　The cause of the explosion is still under investigation, said an officer with the Tongren police, but refused to speculate as to the cause.

　　It can be inferred from the passage that ________.

　　A. All the injured were taken to a hospital

　　B. 8 of the injured were not taken to a hospital

　　C. The rubbish bin with a bomb was in a restaurant

　　D. The rubbish bin with a bomb was in a shop

　　Which of the following statements is true according to the passage?

　　A. One passer- by, indentified only as Zhang, saw the man throwing a bomb into a bin.

　　B. Some customers in restaurants were injured.

　　C. The writer didn’t get to the scene.

　　D. All customers in shops got hurt.

　　In the last paragraph the underlined word“ speculate” probably means ________.

　　A. tell　　　　　　　　　　　　　 B. guess

　　C. discuss　　　　　　　　　　　　D. talk

　　What of the follwing can be the best title for the passage?

　　A. Bomb Hidden in a Rubbish Bin

　　B. The Cause of the Explosion

　　C. A Terrible Thing

　　D. Market Blast Kills 1 ,Injures 21

My heart sank when the man at the immigration counter gestured to the back room. I was born and raised in America, and this was Miami, where I live, but they weren’t quite ready to let me in yet.

　 “Please wait in here, Ms. Abujaber,” the immigration officer said. My husband, with his very American last name, accompanied me. He was getting used to this. The same thing had happened recently in Canada when I’d flown to Montreal to speak at a book event. That time they held me for 45 minutes. Today we were returning from a literary festival in Jamaica, and I was shocked that I was being sent “in back” once again.

　　The officer behind the counter called me up and said, “Miss, your name looks like the name of someone who’s on our wanted list. We’re going to have to check you out with Washington.”

　　“How long will it take?”

　　“Hard to say…a few minutes,” he said, “We’ll call you when we’re ready for you.” After an hour, Washington still hadn’t decided anything about me.

“Isn’t this computerized?” I asked at the counter, “Can’t you just look me up?”

“Just a few more minutes,” they assured me.

　　After an hour and a half, I pulled my cell phone out to call the friends I was supposed to meet that evening. An officer rushed over. “No phones!” he said, “For all we know you could be calling a terrorist cell and giving them information.”

　　“I’m just a university professor,” I said. My voice came out in a squeak.

　　“Of course you are. And we take people like you out of here in leg irons every day.”

　　I put my phone away.

　　My husband and I were getting hungry and tired. Whole families had been brought into the waiting room, and the place was packed with excitable children, exhausted parents, and even a flight attendant.

　　I wanted to scream, to jump on a chair and shout: “I’m an American citizen; a novelist; I probably teach English literature to your children.”

After two hours in detention (扣押), I was approached by one of the officers. “You’re free to go,” he said. No explanation or apologies. For a moment, neither of us moved. We were still in shock. Then we leaped to our feet.

　　“Oh, one more thing,” he handed me a tattered photocopy with an address on it, “If you aren’t happy with your treatment, you can write to this agency.”

　　“Will they respond?” I asked.

　　“I don’t know—I don’t know of anyone who’s ever written to them before.” Then he added,” By the way, this will probably keep happening each time you travel internationally.”

　　“What can I do to keep it from happening again?”

　　He smiled the empty smile we’d seen all day, “Absolutely nothing.”

　　After telling several friends about our ordeal, probably the most frequent advice I’ve heard in response is to change my name. Twenty years ago, my own graduate school writing professor advised me to write under a pen name so that publishers wouldn’t stick me in what he called “the ethnic ghetto”—a separate, secondary shelf in the bookstore. But a name is an integral part of anyone’s personal and professional identity—just like the town you’re born in and the place where you’re raised.

　　Like my father, I’ll keep the name, but my airport experience has given me a whole new perspective on what diversity and tolerance are supposed to mean. I had no idea that being an American would ever be this hard.

1.The author was held at the airport because ______.

A. she and her husband returned from Jamaica

B. her name was similar to a terrorist’s

C. she had been held in Montreal

D. she had spoken at a book event

2.She was not allowed to call her friends because ______.

A. her identity hadn’t been confirmed yet

B. she had been held for only one hour and a half

C. there were other families in the waiting room

D. she couldn’t use her own cell phone

3.We learn from the passage that the author would ______ to prevent similar experience from happening again.

A. write to the agency?????????? B. change her name??

C. avoid traveling abroad??????? D. do nothing

4.Her experiences indicate that there still exists ______ in the US.

A. hatred???????????????????? B. discrimination?????

C. tolerance?????????????????? D. diversity

5.The author sounds ______ in the last paragraph.

A. impatient?? B. bitter???????? C. worried??????????? D. ironic (具有讽刺意味的)

Thanksgiving Day was near. The first grade teacher gave her class a fun assignment－to draw a picture of something for which they were __31__.

Most of the class might be considered economically __32__，but still many would celebrate the holiday with turkey and other traditional goodies of the season. These，the teacher thought，would be the __33__ of most of her students’ art. And they were.

But Douglas made a different kind of __34__.Douglas was a different kind of boy. He was the teacher’s true child of misery，weak and __35__.As other children played at break，Douglas was likely to stand close by her side. One could only guess at the __36__ Douglas felt behind those sad eyes.

Yes，his picture was __37__.When asked to draw a picture of something for which he was thankful，he drew a hand. Nothing else. Just an __38__ hand.

His abstract image __39__ the imagination of his peers. Whose hand could it be? One child guessed it was the hand of a farmer，because farmers __40__ turkeys. Another suggested a police officer，because the police protect and __41__ people. Still others guessed it was the hand of God，for God feeds us. And so the __42__ went－until the teacher almost forgot the young artist himself.

When the children had gone on to other assignments，she __43__ at Douglas’desk，bent down，and asked him whose hand it was. The little boy looked away and __44__，“It’s yours，teacher.” She __45__ the times she had taken his hand and walked with him here or there，__46__ she had the other students. How often had she said，“Take my hand，Douglas，we’ll go outside.” Or，“Let me show you how to __47__ your pencil.”Or，“Let’s do this together.” Douglas was most thankful for his teacher’s hand.

Brushing aside a tear，she went on with her work.

The story speaks of __48__ thankfulness. It says something about teachers teaching and parents parenting and friends showing __49__，and how much it means to the Douglases of the world. They might not always say thanks，but they’ll remember the hand that __50__.

完形填空（共20小题；每小题1.5分，满分30分）

阅读下面短文，从短文后各题所给的四个选项（A、B、C和D）中，选出最佳选项，并在答题卡上将该项涂黑。

Sometimes we need to remind ourselves that thankfulness is indeed a virtue.

—William Bennett

Thanksgiving Day was near. The first grade teacher gave her class a fun __36__ to draw a picture of something for which they were thankful.

Most of the class might be considered economically __37__, but still many would __38__ the holidays with turkeys and other traditional goodies of the season. These, the teacher thought, would be the __39__ of most of her students’ art. And they were.

__40__, Douglas made a different kind of picture. Douglas was a special kind of boy. He was the teacher’s true child of misery, __41__ and unhappy. As other children played at break, Douglas was likely to stand close by her side. One could only guess the pain Douglas felt __42__ those sad eyes.

Yes, his picture was different. When __43__ to draw a picture of something for which he was thankful, he drew a hand. Nothing else. Just a(n) __44__ hand.

His abstract image captured the __45__ of his classmates, whose hand could it be? One child guessed it was the hand of a farmer, because farmers __46__ turkeys. Another suggested a police officer, because the police protect and __47__ people. And so the discussion went ---- until the teacher __48__ forgot the young artist himself.

When the children had gone on to other tasks, she __49__ at Douglas’ desk, bent down, and asked him whose hand it was. The little boy looked away and __50__, “It’s yours, teacher.”

She __51__ the times she had taken his hand and walked with him here and there, __52__ she had other student. How often had she said, “Take your hand, Douglas, we’ll go outside.” Or, “Let me show you how to hold your pencil.” Or, “Let’s do this together.” Douglas was most thankful for his teacher’s hand.

Brushing __53__ a tear, she went on with her work.　　

The story speaks of __54__ thankfulness. It says something about teachers teaching and parents parenting and friends showing friendship, and how much it means to the Douglases of the world. They might not always say thanks, but they'll remember the hand that __55__.

完形填空

　　One day a police officer managed to get some fresh mushrooms. He was so pleased with what he had bought that he offered to 1 the mushrooms with his brother officers. When their breakfast arrived 2 , each officer found some mushrooms on his plate.

　　“Let the dog 3 a piece first, ”suggested one 4 officer who was afraid that the mushrooms should be poisonous.

　　The dog seemed to 5 his mushroom, and the officers then began to eat their meal, saying that the mushrooms had a very strange 6 quite pleasant taste.

　　An hour later, however, they were all astonished 7 the gardener rushed in and said 8 that the dog was dead. Immediately, the officers jumped into their cars and rushed to the nearest hospital. Pumps were used and the officers had a very 9 time getting rid of the mushrooms that 10 in their stomachs.

　　When they 11 to the police station, they sat down and started to 12 the mushroom poisoning. Each man explained the pains that 13 had felt and they agreed that 14 had grown worse on their 15 to the hospital. The gardener was called to explain the way 16 the poor dog had died. “Did it 17 much before death?”asked one of the officers, 18 very pleased that he had escaped a 19 death himself. “No”, the gardener looked rather 20 , “It was killed by a car. ”

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