D

Ben walked quietly. He wanted to surprise the hunter. But then, what would he do?

Suddenly he heard a bird’s wings beating the dry grass. Ben moved quickly toward the sound.

He saw a colored head ... the head of a beautiful bird. The bird did not move until Ben came close. Then it tried to fly away, but one wing was broken.

Ben lifted the bird and held it close against his body. The bird fought to escape, but soon lay quietly in Ben’s arms.

Ben decided to take the bird home and fix its broken wings so that it could fly again.

He was almost out of the woods when he heard the hunter behind him.

“You just found that bird?” the hunter asked.

“Yes,” Ben answered.

“It is mine!”

Ben was afraid and tried to answer, but his mouth was too dry to speak. Nevertheless, he wetted his lips and said, “No.”

“I shot him and I say he is mine!”

“But he is not dead yet,” Ben answered, “and besides, anything on my land belongs to me.”

The hunter looked down at the little man and smiled. “Say, who are you?”

Ben’s voice shook with both fear and anger. “I own this land. There are signs everywhere that say, ‘No hunting’.”

“No need to get angry, mister,” the hunter said. “Control yourself.”

There was something threatening in the man’s cool quiet voice. And he had a gun. His arms were free and Ben’s were not.

The hunter stepped closer and said, “Give me that bird!”

Ben was white with anger. “No!” he answered. His eye glasses became wet and he had to look over the top of them to see the other man.

“Give me the bird and I will go away,” the hunter said.

“You get off my land,” Ben told him. “Get off right now...you do not belong here!”

The man’s face got red. “Mister,” he said, “I have been hunting here all my life. I grew up here.”

“That is a thing of the past,” Ben said. “I do not know who you are and I do not care. I own this place now and I am telling you to leave. You go back through the woods and get off my land!”

“Now look, mister,” the hunter said, “be reasonable.”

The hunter raised his gun.

A cold wind blew across Ben’s face. He looked into the hunter’s gray eyes. Ben was frightened. It was not too late, he thought. He could still give the bird to the hunter and return safely home...that would end this whole ugly business.

The bird struggled weakly and made a wild, strange noise.

Then Ben knew he could never give this bird to the hunter. This feeling gave Ben great strength, and he was no longer afraid.

“I will never let you kill this bird,” he said. “Get away from here. If you try to take this bird, I will fight...you have a gun and you are bigger, but that does not worry me. You will never get this bird...you will have to kill me first.”

The two men looked at each other. Ben’s fear returned. His knees began to shake and he felt sick. Yet he stood straight, wondering what would happen next.

They stood close to each other for a long time. The woods were strangely quiet. Then the hunter’s rough voice broke the silence.

“You are a fool.” And then to Ben’s surprise, he slowly walked away.

Ben watched until he was gone. His arms hurt, his body felt wet and cold.

67. Why did the hunter smile when saying “Say, who are you”?

A. He wanted to confirm Ben’s identity in a friendly way.

B. He was amused at Ben’s reply and interested in him.

C. He looked down on Ben and thought his reply ridiculous.

D. He meant to be friendly enough to get the bird from Ben.

68. What strengthened Ben’s determination never to give the bird to the hunter?

A. His strong dislike of the hunter.     B. His firm confidence in himself.

C. His ownership of this piece of land.   D. His concern and sympathy for the bird.

69. Why did the hunter remark that Ben was a fool at the end of the story?

A. Ben tried to protect a bird at all costs.

B. Ben pretended to be fearless although scared.

C. Ben stood close to him saying nothing for long.

D. Ben insisted on him leaving the land.

70. Which of the following best describes Ben’s state of mind in the incident?

A. Ben was willing to compromise.                    B. Ben never thought of giving in.

C. Ben held out to the end.                                D. Ben was sure about his victory.

My mind went blank when I saw the gun pointing against the car window as we pulled out of the garage. This can't be happening to me. Then I felt the gun, cold, against my head, and I heard my friend Jeremy saying，“What do you want? Take my wallet，” but at the time I thought of nothing.

I remember being a little annoyed when the gunman pulled me from the car by the hair. I remember the walk to the house—Jeremy, me, the two men with two guns. I remember the fear and anger in the gunmen's voices because Jeremy was being slow, and I remember wondering why he was being slow. I did not realize that Jeremy had thrown the keys into the bush. But I remember that sound of the gun hitting Jeremy's head and the feeling as the man who had hold of my hair released me. And I remember the split second when I realized he was looking at Jeremy，and I remember wondering how far I could run before he pulled the trigger. But I was already running, and upon reaching the car across the street, I didn't crouch (蹲伏) behind it but screamed instead.

I remember thinking there was something ridiculous and illogical about screaming “Help, help！” at eight o'clock on a Tuesday evening in December and changing my plea(恳求) to the? more specific “Help, let me in, please let me in！” But the houses were cold, closed, unfriendly, and I ran on until I heard Jeremy's screams behind me announcing that our attackers had fled.

The neighbors who had not opened their doors to us came out with baseball bats and helped Jeremy find his glasses and keys. In a group they were very brave. We waited for the police to? come until someone said to someone else that the noodles were getting cold, and I said politely，“Please go and eat. We're OK.”

I was happy to see them go. They had been talking of stricter sentences for criminals, of? bringing back the death penalty(处罚) and how the President is going to clean up the country. I? was thinking, they could be saying all of this over my dead body, and I still feel that stiffer? sentences wouldn't change a thing. In a rush all the anger I should have felt for my attackers was? directed against these contented people standing in front of their warm, comfortable homes? talking about all the guns they were going to buy. What good would guns have been to Jeremy? and me?

People all over the neighborhood had called to report our screams, and the police turned out? in force twenty minutes later. They were ill?tempered about what was, to them, much trouble? about nothing.? After all, Jeremy was hardly hurt, and we were hopeless when it came to? describing the gunmen. “Typical，” said one policeman when we couldn't even agree on how tall? the men were.? Both of us were able to describe the guns in horrifying detail, but the two? policemen who stayed to make the report didn't think that would be much help.

The policemen were matter?of?fact about the whole thing. The thin one said，“That was a? stupid thing to do, throwing away the keys. When a man has a gun against your head you do? what you're told.” Jeremy looked properly embarrassed.

Then the fat policeman came up and the thin one went to look around the outside of the? house. “That was the best thing you could have done, throwing away the keys，” he said. “If you? had gone into the house with them...” His voice became weaker. “They would have hurt her” ——he twisted his head toward me——“and killed you both.” Jeremy looked happier. “Look，” said the fat policeman kindly, “ there's no right or wrong in the situation. There's just luck.”

All that sleepless night I replayed the moment those black gloves came up to the car? window. How long did the whole thing last? Three minutes, five, eight? No matter how many? hours of my life I may spend reliving it, I know there is no way to prepare for the next time—no? intelligent response to a gun. The fat cop was right. There's only luck. The next time I might end up dead.

And I’m sure there will be a next time.? It can happen anywhere, anytime, to anyone.Security is an illusion(幻觉); there is no safety in locks or in guns. Guns make some people feel safe and some people feel strong, but they're fooling themselves.

1.When the writer saw the gun pointing against the car window，________.

A．she felt very annoyed

B．she lost consciousness

C．she felt very much nervous

D．she lost the power of thinking

2.What most possibly drove the two gunmen away?

A．Jeremy's fighting.

B．The author's screaming.

C．Their neighbour's brave action.

D．The police's arrival.

3.When the author called for help, the neighbors didn't come out immediately because________.

A．they were much too frightened

B．they were busy preparing dinners

C．they needed time to find baseball bats

D．they thought someone was playing a trick

4.What the author wants to tell us is that________.

A．neighbors are not helpful in moments of difficulty

B．the police are not reliable when one is in trouble

C．security is impossible as long as people can have guns

D．preventing robbers entering your house is the best choice

My mind went blank when I saw the gun pointing against the car window as we pulled out of the garage. This can’t be happening to me. Then I felt the gun, cold, against my head, and I heard my friend Jeremy saying, “What do you want? Take my wallet,” but at the time I thought of nothing.

I remember being a little annoyed when the gunman pulled me from the car by the hair. I remember the walk to the house --- Jeremy, me, the two men with two guns. I remember the fear and anger in the gunmen’s voices because Jeremy was being slow, and I remember wondering why he was being slow. I did not realize that Jeremy had thrown the keys into the bush. But I remember that sound of the gun hitting Jeremy’s head and the feeling as the man who had hold of my hair released me. And I remember the split second when I realized he was looking at Jeremy, and I remember wondering how far I could run before he pulled the trigger. But I was already running, and upon reaching the car across the street, I didn’t crouch(蹲伏) behind it but screamed instead.

I remember thinking there was something ridiculous and illogical about screaming “Help, help!” at eight o’clock on a Tuesday evening in December and changing my plea(恳求) to the more specific “Help, let me in, please let me in!” But the houses were cold, closed, unfriendly, and I ran on until I heard Jeremy’s screams behind me announcing that our attackers had fled.

The neighbors who had not opened their doors to us came out with baseball bats and helped Jeremy find his glasses and keys. In a group they were very brave. We waited for the police to come until someone said to someone else that the noodles were getting cold, and I said politely, “Please go and eat. We’re OK.”

I was happy to see them go. They had been talking of stricter sentences for criminals, of bringing back the death penalty(处罚) and how the President is going to clean up the country. I was thinking, they could be saying all of this over my dead body, and I still feel that stiffer sentences wouldn’t change a thing. In a rush all the anger I should have felt for my attackers was directed against these contented people standing in front of their warm, comfortable homes talking about all the guns they were going to buy. What good would guns have been to Jeremy and me?

People all over the neighborhood had called to report our screams, and the police turned out in force twenty minutes later. They were ill-tempered about what was, to them, much trouble about nothing. After all, Jeremy was hardly hurt, and we were hopeless when it came to describing the gunmen. “Typical,” said one policeman when we couldn’t even agree on how tall the men were. Both of us were able to describe the guns in horrifying detail, but the two policemen who stayed to make the report didn’t think that would be much help.

The policemen were matter-of-fact about the whole thing. The thin one said, “That was a stupid thing to do, throwing away the keys. When a man has a gun against your head you do what you’re told.” Jeremy looked properly embarrassed.

Then the fat policeman came up and the thin one went to look around the outside of the house. “That was the best thing you could have done, throwing away the keys,” he said. “If you had gone into the house with them…” His voice became weaker. “They would have hurt her” --- he twisted his head toward me --- “and killed you both.” Jeremy looked happier. “Look,” said the fat policeman kindly, “there’s no right or wrong in the situation. There’s just luck.”

All that sleepless night I replayed the moment those black gloves came up to the car window. How long did the whole thing last? Three minutes, five, eight? No matter how many hours of my life I may spend reliving it, I know there is no way to prepare for the next time --- no intelligent response to a gun. The fat cop was right. There’s only luck. The next time I might end up dead.

And I’m sure there will be a next time. It can happen anywhere, anytime, to anyone. Security is an illusion(幻觉); there is no safety in locks or in guns. Guns make some people feel safe and some people feel strong, but they’re fooling themselves.

1.When the writer saw the gun pointing against the car window, ________.

A. she felt very annoyed  

B. she lost consciousness

C. she felt very much nervous  

D. she lost the power of thinking

2.What most possibly drove the two gunmen away?

A. Jeremy’s fighting                                                  B. The author’s screaming   

C. Their neighbour’s brave action                             D. The police’s arrival

3. When the author called for help, the neighbors didn’t come out immediately because ________.

A. they were much too frightened

B. they were busy preparing dinners

C. they needed time to find baseball bats

D. they thought someone was playing a trick

4.The author was happy to see the neighbors go because ________.

A. she hated to listen to their empty talk

B. she did not want to become an object of pity

C. she was angered by their being late to come to her help

D. she wanted to be left alone with Jeremy to get over the shock

5.The police were rather angry because ________.

A. the author was not hurt and gave a false alarm

B. they thought it was a case of little importance

C. the author and Jeremy could not tell the police anything

D. the gunmen had already fled when they arrived on the scene

6.What the author wants to tell us is that ________.

A. neighbors are not helpful in moments of difficulty

B. the police are not reliable when one is in trouble

C. security is impossible as long as people can have guns

D. preventing robbers entering your house is the best choice

My mind went blank when I saw the gun pointing against the car window as we pulled out of the garage. This can’t be happening to me. Then I felt the gun, cold, against my head, and I heard my friend Jeremy saying, “What do you want? Take my wallet,” but at the time I thought of nothing.

I remember being a little annoyed when the gunman pulled me from the car by the hair. I remember the walk to the house --- Jeremy, me, the two men with two guns. I remember the fear and anger in the gunmen’s voices because Jeremy was being slow, and I remember wondering why he was being slow. I did not realize that Jeremy had thrown the keys into the bush. But I remember that sound of the gun hitting Jeremy’s head and the feeling as the man who had hold of my hair released me. And I remember the split second when I realized he was looking at Jeremy, and I remember wondering how far I could run before he pulled the trigger. But I was already running, and upon reaching the car across the street, I didn’t crouch(蹲伏) behind it but screamed instead.

I remember thinking there was something ridiculous and illogical about screaming “Help, help!” at eight o’clock on a Tuesday evening in December and changing my plea(恳求) to the more specific “Help, let me in, please let me in!” But the houses were cold, closed, unfriendly, and I ran on until I heard Jeremy’s screams behind me announcing that our attackers had fled.

The neighbors who had not opened their doors to us came out with baseball bats and helped Jeremy find his glasses and keys. In a group they were very brave. We waited for the police to come until someone said to someone else that the noodles were getting cold, and I said politely, “Please go and eat. We’re O.K.”

I was happy to see them go. They had been talking of stricter sentences for criminals, of bringing back the death penalty(处罚) and how the President is going to clean up the country. I was thinking, they could be saying all of this over my dead body, and I still feel that stiffer sentences wouldn’t change a thing. In a rush all the anger I should have felt for my attackers was directed against these contented people standing in front of their warm, comfortable homes talking about all the guns they were going to buy. What good would guns have been to Jeremy and me?

People all over the neighborhood had called to report our screams, and the police turned out in force twenty minutes later. They were ill-tempered about what was, to them, much trouble about nothing. After all, Jeremy was hardly hurt, and we were hopeless when it came to describing the gunmen. “Typical,” said one policeman when we couldn’t even agree on how tall the men were. Both of us were able to describe the guns in horrifying detail, but the two policemen who stayed to make the report didn’t think that would be much help.

The policemen were matter-of-fact about the whole thing. The thin one said, “That was a stupid thing to do, throwing away the keys. When a man has a gun against your head you do what you’re told.” Jeremy looked properly embarrassed.

Then the fat policeman came up and the thin one went to look around the outside of the house. “That was the best thing you could have done, throwing away the keys,” he said. “If you had gone into the house with them…” His voice became weaker. “They would have hurt her” --- he twisted his head toward me – “and killed you both.” Jeremy looked happier. “Look,” said the fat policeman kindly, “there’s no right or wrong in the situation. There’s just luck.”

All that sleepless night I replayed the moment those black gloves came up to the car window. How long did the whole thing last? Three minutes, five, eight? No matter how many hours of my life I may spend reliving it, I know there is no way to prepare for the next time --- no intelligent response to a gun. The fat cop was right. There’s only luck. The next time I might end up dead.

And I’m sure there will be a next time. It can happen anywhere, anytime, to anyone. Security is an illusion(幻觉); there is no safety in locks or in guns. Guns make some people feel safe and some people feel strong, but they’re fooling themselves.

1. When the writer saw the gun pointing against the car window, ______.

A. she felt very annoyed              B. she lost consciousness

C. she felt very much nervous          D. she lost the power of thinking

2.What most possibly drove the two gunmen away?

A. Jeremy’s fighting                B. The author’s screaming

C. Their neighbour’s brave action      D. The police’s arrival

3.When the author called for help, the neighbors didn’t come out immediately because ______

A. they were much too frightened

B. they were busy preparing dinners

C. they needed time to find baseball bats

D. they thought someone was playing a trick

4.The author was happy to see the neighbors go because ______.

A. she hated to listen to their empty talk

B. she did not want to become an object of pity

C. she was angered by their being late to come to her help

D. she wanted to be left alone with Jeremy to get over the shock

5.The police were rather angry because ______.

A. the author was not hurt and gave a false alarm

B. they thought it was a case of little importance

C. the author and Jeremy could not tell the police anything

D. the gunmen had already fled when they arrived on the scene

6.What the author wants to tell us is that______.

A. neighbors are not helpful in moments of difficulty

B. the police are not reliable when one is in trouble

C. security is impossible as long as people can have guns

D. preventing robbers entering your house is the best choice

One evening I heard a loud crash in our quiet neighborhood．  26 that evening, my wife had asked me to go to the store to get some soft drinks．It was a good time to let my teenage daughter Holly practice her  27  , so I sent her to the store in my truck．At dinner my son talked about how much he liked my 28 ．I enjoyed having it, but I said: "Guy, my heart is not set on that truck．I like it but it is 29  metal and won' t last forever．" After hearing the loud noise, the whole  30  ran outside．My son shouted: "Dad, Dad, Holly crashed your truck．"

My heart sank and my mind was  31 with conflicting thoughts. Was anyone hurt? Who else was involved? As I ran to the door, I heard a voice in my   32 saying: "Here is a chance to show Holly what you really  33 ．She' 11 never forget it．"

The accident had occurred in my own driveway．Holly had crashed my truck into our other car. Holly was not  34 physically but when I reached her, she was crying and saying: " Oh, Dad, I’m sorry．I know how much you love this truck．" I held her in my arms as she cried．

Later that week a friend  35 by and asked what had happened to my truck．I told her the whole  36 ．Her eyes moistened(润湿) and she said: "That happened to me when I was a girl．I  37 my dad' s car and ran into a log that had fallen  38 the road．I ruined the car．When I got home my Dad knocked me to the ground and began to kick me．

Over 40 years later, she still felt the  39 of the night．It was a deep wound on her  40  .

I remember how  41  Holly was on the night she crashed our truck, and how I  42 her．One day, when Holly thinks  43 in the future, I want her to know that I love her a thousand times more than anything else．

I repaired the car, but the dent(凹陷)in my truck is   44 there today．Every day it reminds me of what really  45 in my life．