Modern Manners
Philip Howard answers your questions on contemporary etiquette (礼仪)
Philip Howard,
When my friend and I (two ladies of a certain age) go out to have a meal, she always leaves an extremely large tip. At times, the tip will equal the amount of one of the main dishes—sometimes it comes to about 30 per cent of the bill. I feel 15—20 per cent is adequate for services offered and depending on the type of restaurant. At a cafe I would like to leave 15 per cent or a bit more depending on the service and etc. A larger tip would be appropriate if we are in a big city or a nicer place. My friend says “Well, I am sure they are not driving a Mercedes (奔驰汽车).” Well, neither am I, and how does she know? Who is correct and how can I make changes? I might add I do truly feel tipping should be based on good service, and also if you frequent a place and know the staff a larger tip is OK. I would never hesitate to tip a waitperson. I always leave to the higher side. 
Yours,
Barbara Bade
Barbara Bade,
Americans are more generous tippers than the British. I suspect that 10 per cent for a tip is about normal in the UK. Tipping is a strange survival in our age of supposed equality and minimum wages. Your friend has a generous nature and deep purse. I do not see why you cannot let her tip whatever she wants, and do your own thing. I agree that a tip should be a reward for good service and general good feeling. If the service is rotten and the meal a disaster, we should withhold a tip and explain why we are doing so. Few of us have the chutzpah (厚颜) to do this. Sensible restaurants have a box for tips, so that they are shared out among the staff, including those in the kitchens whom we do not see. (I trust that the management does not receive the money as extra profit.) I look forward to the day when waiters and other servants are paid a good enough living wage, so that they do not have to depend on the generosity of strangers to survive. To wait at table is just as honorable a way to earn a living in this wicked world. If you are pleased with the meal and cheerful service, you should tip as handsomely as your purse affords. I don’t suppose that your waiter / waitress is driving a Mercedes, even in the States. 
Yours,
Philip Howard
60. We can learn from the first letter that Barbara prefers ___________.
A. changing her own ideas on how to tip waiters
B. leaving a bigger tip to the familiar waitpersons
C. eating at a café rather than in a nice restaurant
D. saving as much money as possible for herself
61. It can be inferred that Barbara’s friend tips waiters heavily ________.
A. to show that she is well off                              B. because they are thought to be poorly paid
C. to show that she is generous                          D. because they have offered her full service
62. Besides quality of service, Philip regards __________ as principles of tipping.
A. taste of food and amount of one’s money
B. taste of food and the number of servants
C. generosity of strangers and the number of servants
D. amount of one’s money and generosity of strangers

B

Modern Manners

Philip Howard answers your questions on contemporary etiquette (礼仪)

Philip Howard,

When my friend and I (two ladies of a certain age) go out to have a meal, she always leaves an extremely large tip. At times, the tip will equal the amount of one of the main dishes—sometimes it comes to about 30 per cent of the bill. I feel 15—20 per cent is adequate for services offered and depending on the type of restaurant. At a cafe I would like to leave 15 per cent or a bit more depending on the service and etc. A larger tip would be appropriate if we are in a big city or a nicer place. My friend says “Well, I am sure they are not driving a Mercedes (奔驰汽车).” Well, neither am I, and how does she know? Who is correct and how can I make changes? I might add I do truly feel tipping should be based on good service, and also if you frequent a place and know the staff a larger tip is OK. I would never hesitate to tip a waitperson. I always leave to the higher side.  

Yours,

Barbara Bade

Barbara Bade,

Americans are more generous tippers than the British. I suspect that 10 per cent for a tip is about normal in the UK. Tipping is a strange survival in our age of supposed equality and minimum wages. Your friend has a generous nature and deep purse. I do not see why you cannot let her tip whatever she wants, and do your own thing. I agree that a tip should be a reward for good service and general good feeling. If the service is rotten and the meal a disaster, we should withhold a tip and explain why we are doing so. Few of us have the chutzpah (厚颜) to do this. Sensible restaurants have a box for tips, so that they are shared out among the staff, including those in the kitchens whom we do not see. (I trust that the management does not receive the money as extra profit.) I look forward to the day when waiters and other servants are paid a good enough living wage, so that they do not have to depend on the generosity of strangers to survive. To wait at table is just as honorable a way to earn a living in this wicked world. If you are pleased with the meal and cheerful service, you should tip as handsomely as your purse affords. I don’t suppose that your waiter / waitress is driving a Mercedes, even in the States. 

Yours,

Philip Howard

60. We can learn from the first letter that Barbara prefers ___________.

A. changing her own ideas on how to tip waiters

B. leaving a bigger tip to the familiar waitpersons

C. eating at a café rather than in a nice restaurant

D. saving as much money as possible for herself

61. It can be inferred that Barbara’s friend tips waiters heavily ________.

A. to show that she is well off                              B. because they are thought to be poorly paid

C. to show that she is generous                          D. because they have offered her full service

62. Besides quality of service, Philip regards __________ as principles of tipping.

A. taste of food and amount of one’s money

B. taste of food and the number of servants

C. generosity of strangers and the number of servants

D. amount of one’s money and generosity of strangers

When I was fourteen, I earned money in the summer by cutting lawns（草坪）, and within a few weeks I had built up a body of customers. I got to know people by the flowers they planted that I had to remember not to cut down, by the things they lost in the grass or struck in the ground on purpose. I reached the point with most of them when I knew in advance what complaint was about to be spoken, which particular request was most important. And I learned something about the measure of my neighbors by their preferred method of payment: by the job, by the month--- or not at all.

Mr. Ballou fell into the last category, and he always had a reason why. On one day, he had no  change for a fifty, on another he was flat out of checks, on another, he was simply out when I knocked on his door. Still, except for the money apart, he was a nice enough guy, always waving or tipping his hat when he’d see me from a distance. I figured him for a thin retirement check, maybe a work-relayed injury that kept him from doing his own yard work. Sure, I kept track of the total, but I didn’t worry about the amount too much. Grass was grass, and the little that Mr. Ballou’s property comprised didn’t take long to trim (修剪).

Then, one late afternoon in mid-July, the hottest time of the year, I was walking by his house and he opened the door, mentioned me to come inside. The hall was cool, shaded, and it took my eyes a minute to adjust to the dim light. 

“ I owe you,” Mr Ballou, “ but…”

I thought I’d save him the trouble of thinking of a new excuse. “ No problem. Don’t worry about it.”

“ The bank made a mistake in my account,” he continued, ignoring my words. “ It will be cleared up in a day or two . But in the meantime I thought perhaps you could choose one or two volumes for a down payment.

He gestured toward the walls and I saw that books were stacked (堆放) everywhere. It was like a library, except with no order to the arrangement.

“ Take your time,” Mr. Ballou encouraged. “Read, borrow, keep. Find something you like. What do you read?”

“ I don’t know.” And I didn’t. I generally read what was in front of me, what I could get from the paperback stack at the drugstore, what I found at the library, magazines, the back of cereal boxes, comics. The idea of consciously seeking out a special title was new to me, but, I realized, not without appeal--- so I started to look through the piles of books.

“ You actually read all of these?”

“ This isn’t much,” Mr. Ballou said. “ This is nothing, just what I’ve kept, the ones worth looking at a second time.”

“ Pick for me, then.”

He raised his eyebrows, cocked his head, and regarded me as though measuring me for a suit. After a moment, he nodded, searched through a stack, and handed me a dark red hardbound book, fairly thick.

“ The Last of the Just,” I read. “ By Andre Schwarz-Bart. What’s it about?” “ You tell me,” he said. “ Next week.”

I started after supper, sitting outdoors on an uncomfortable kitchen chair. Within a few pages, the yard, the summer, disappeared, and I was plunged into the aching tragedy of the Holocaust, the extraordinary clash of good, represented by one decent man, and evil. Translated from French, the language was elegant, simple, impossible to resist. When the evening light finally failed I moved inside, read all through the night,

To this day, thirty years later, I vividly remember the experience. It was my first voluntary encounter with world literature, and I was stunned (震惊) by the concentrated power a novel could contain. I lacked the vocabulary, however, to translate my feelings into words, so the next week. When Mr. Ballou asked, “ Well?” I only replied, “ It was good?”

“ Keep it, then,” he said. “ Shall I suggest another?”

I nodded, and was presented with the paperback edition of Margaret Mead’s Coming of Age in Samoa ( a very important book on the study of the social and cultural development of peoples--- anthropology (人类学) ).

To make two long stories short, Mr. Ballou never paid me a cent for cutting his grass that year or the next, but for fifteen years I taught anthropology at Dartmouth College. Summer reading was not the innocent entertainment I had assumed it to be, not a light-hearted, instantly forgettable escape in a hammock (吊床) ( though I have since enjoyed many of those, too). A book, if it arrives before you at the right moment, in the proper season, at an internal in the daily business of things, will change the course of all that follows.

1..The author thought that Mr. Ballou was ______________.

A. rich but mean                         B. poor but polite

C. honest but forgettable                   D. strong but lazy

2.. Before his encounter with Mr. Ballou, the author used to read _____________.

   A. anything and everything                 B. only what was given to him

   C. only serious novels                     D. nothing in the summer

3.. The author found the first book Mr. Ballou gave him _____________.

   A. light-heated and enjoyable               B. dull but well written

   C. impossible to put down                  D. difficult to understand

4.. From what he said to the author we can gather that Mr. Ballou _______________.

   A. read all books twice                    B. did not do much reading

   C. read more books than he kept             D. preferred to read hardbound books

5.. The following year the author _______________.

   A. started studying anthropology at college    B. continued to cut Mr. Ballou’s lawn

   C. spent most of his time lazing away in a hammock

   D. had forgotten what he had read the summer before

6.. The author’s main point is that _____________.

   A. summer jobs are really good for young people

   B. you should insist on being paid before you do a job

   C. a good book can change the direction of your life

   D. a book is like a garden carried in the pocket.

B
Modern Manners
Philip Howard answers your questions on contemporary etiquette (礼仪)
Philip Howard,
When my friend and I (two ladies of a certain age) go out to have a meal, she always leaves an extremely large tip. At times, the tip will equal the amount of one of the main dishes—sometimes it comes to about 30 per cent of the bill. I feel 15—20 per cent is adequate for services offered and depending on the type of restaurant. At a cafe I would like to leave 15 per cent or a bit more depending on the service and etc. A larger tip would be appropriate if we are in a big city or a nicer place. My friend says “Well, I am sure they are not driving a Mercedes (奔驰汽车).” Well, neither am I, and how does she know? Who is correct and how can I make changes? I might add I do truly feel tipping should be based on good service, and also if you frequent a place and know the staff a larger tip is OK. I would never hesitate to tip a waitperson. I always leave to the higher side.  
Yours,
Barbara Bade
Barbara Bade,
Americans are more generous tippers than the British. I suspect that 10 per cent for a tip is about normal in the UK. Tipping is a strange survival in our age of supposed equality and minimum wages. Your friend has a generous nature and deep purse. I do not see why you cannot let her tip whatever she wants, and do your own thing. I agree that a tip should be a reward for good service and general good feeling. If the service is rotten and the meal a disaster, we should withhold a tip and explain why we are doing so. Few of us have the chutzpah (厚颜) to do this. Sensible restaurants have a box for tips, so that they are shared out among the staff, including those in the kitchens whom we do not see. (I trust that the management does not receive the money as extra profit.) I look forward to the day when waiters and other servants are paid a good enough living wage, so that they do not have to depend on the generosity of strangers to survive. To wait at table is just as honorable a way to earn a living in this wicked world. If you are pleased with the meal and cheerful service, you should tip as handsomely as your purse affords. I don’t suppose that your waiter / waitress is driving a Mercedes, even in the States. 
Yours,
Philip Howard
60. We can learn from the first letter that Barbara prefers ___________.
A. changing her own ideas on how to tip waiters
B. leaving a bigger tip to the familiar waitpersons
C. eating at a café rather than in a nice restaurant
D. saving as much money as possible for herself
61. It can be inferred that Barbara’s friend tips waiters heavily ________.
A. to show that she is well off                              B. because they are thought to be poorly paid
C. to show that she is generous                          D. because they have offered her full service
62. Besides quality of service, Philip regards __________ as principles of tipping.
A. taste of food and amount of one’s money
B. taste of food and the number of servants
C. generosity of strangers and the number of servants
D. amount of one’s money and generosity of strangers

When I was fourteen, I earned money in the summer by cutting lawns（草坪）, and within a few weeks I had built up a body of customers. I got to know people by the flowers they planted that I had to remember not to cut down, by the things they lost in the grass or struck in the ground on purpose. I reached the point with most of them when I knew in advance what complaint was about to be spoken, which request was most important. And I learned something about the measure of my neighbors by their preferred method of payment: by the job, by the month—or not at all.
Mr. Ballou fell into the last category, and he always had a reason why. On one day, he had no change for a fifty, on another he was flat out of checks, on another, he was simply out when I knocked on his door. Still, except for the money apart, he was a nice enough guy, always waving or tipping his hat when he’d seen me from a distance. I figured him for a thin retirement check, maybe a work-related injury that kept him from doing his own yard work. Sure, I kept track of the total, but I didn’t worry about the amount too much. Grass was grass, and the little that Mr. Ballou’s property comprised didn’t take long to trim (修剪).
Then, one late afternoon in mid-July, the hottest time of the year, I was walking by his house and he opened the door, mentioned me to come inside. The hall was cool, shaded, and it took my eyes a minute to adjust to the dim light. 
“I owe you,” Mr Ballou said, “but…”
I thought I’d save him the trouble of thinking of a new excuse. “No problem. Don’t worry about it.”
“The bank made a mistake in my account,” he continued, ignoring my words. “It will be cleared up in a day or two. But in the meantime I thought perhaps you could choose one or two volumes for a down payment.
He gestured toward the walls and I saw that books were stacked (堆放) everywhere. It was like a library, except with no order to the arrangement.
“Take your time,” Mr. Ballou encouraged. “Read, borrow, keep, or find something you like. What do you read?”
“I don’t know.” And I didn’t. I generally read what was in front of me, what I could get from the paperback stack at the drugstore, what I found at the library, magazines, the back of cereal boxes, comics. The idea of consciously seeking out a special title was new to me, but, I realized, not without appeal--- so I started to look through the piles of books.
“You actually read all of these?”
“This isn’t much,” Mr. Ballou said. “This is nothing, just what I’ve kept, the ones worth looking at a second time.”
“Pick for me, then.”
He raised his eyebrows, cocked his head, and regarded me as though measuring me for a suit. After a moment, he nodded, searched through a stack, and handed me a dark red hardbound book, fairly thick.
“The Last of the Just,” I read. “By Andre Schwarz-Bart. What’s it about?”
“You tell me,” he said. “Next week.”
I started after supper, sitting outdoors on an uncomfortable kitchen chair. Within a few pages, the yard, the summer, disappeared, and I was plunged into the aching tragedy of the Holocaust, the extraordinary clash of good, represented by one decent man, and evil. Translated from French, the language was elegant, simple, impossible to resist. When the evening light finally failed I moved inside, read all through the night.
To this day, thirty years later, I vividly remember the experience. It was my first voluntary encounter with world literature, and I was amazed by the concentrated power a novel could contain. I lacked the vocabulary, however, to translate my feelings into words, so the next week. When Mr. Ballou asked, “Well?” I only replied, “It was good?”
“Keep it, then,” he said. “Shall I suggest another?”
I nodded, and was presented with the paperback edition of Margaret Mead’s Coming of Age in Samoa (a very important book on the study of the social and cultural development of peoples—anthropology (人类学) ).
To make two long stories short, Mr. Ballou never paid me a cent for cutting his grass that year or the next, but for fifteen years I taught anthropology at Dartmouth College. Summer reading was not the innocent entertainment I had assumed it to be, not a light-hearted, instantly forgettable escape in a hammock (吊床) (though I have since enjoyed many of those, too). A book, if it arrives before you at the right moment, in the proper season, at an internal in the daily business of things, will change the course of all that follows.
【小题1】Before his encounter with Mr. Ballou, the author used to read _____________.