There’s a guy like me in every state and federal prison in America，I guess—I’m the guy who can get these for you：cigarettes，a bag of cigar，if you want that，a bottle of wine to celebrate your son or daughter’s high school graduation，or almost anything else．．．within reason，that is．It wasn’t always that way．

I came to Shawshank when I was just twenty，and I am one of the few people in the prison who is willing to admit what he did．I committed murder．I put a large insurance policy on my wife，who was three years older than 1 was，and then I fixed the brakes of the car her father had given us as a wedding present．It worked out exactly as I had planned，except I hadn’t planned on her stopping to pick up the neighbour woman and the woman’s son on the way down Castle Hill and into town．The brakes let go and the car crashed through the bushes，gathering speed．Bystanders said it must have been doing fifty or better when it hit the base of the Civil War statue in the town arid burst into flames．

I also hadn’t planned on getting caught，but caught 1 was．I got a pass into this place．My state has no death penalty(死刑)，but I was tried for all three deaths and given three life sentences，to run one after the other．That fixed up any chance of parole(假释)I might have，for a long，long time．The judge called what I had done‘an extremely evil crime’, and it was ,but it is also in the past now．

Have I transformed myself，you ask ?I don’t know what that word means，at least as far as prisons and corrections go．I think it’s a politician’s word．It may have some other meaning，and it may be that 1 will have a chance to find out，but that is the future．．．

I was young，good—looking，and from the poor side of town．I met a pretty，headstrong girl who lived in one of the fine old houses on Carbine Street．She got pregnant later．Her father was agreeable to the marriage if 1 would take a job in the company he owned and ‘work my way up’．I found out that what he really had in mind was keeping me in his house and under his thumb，like a disagreeable pet that has not quite been housebroken and which may bite．Enough hate eventually piled up to cause me to do what I did．

?? Given a second chance 1 would not do it again，but I'm not sure that means I am transformed．

1.What do we know about the man from the passage?

A．He is treated unfairly in the prison．

B．He is in charge of the federal prison．

C．He is quite an able person as a prisoner．

D．He is the most powerful man in the prison．

2.By saying that“I got a pass into this place”(in Para．3)，the man means that________.

A．he has got to stay in prison

B．he was allowed to go home

C．he was caught by the police without a pass

D．he has stayed in the federal prison before

3.The man committed such an evil crime because__________.

A．he had made a secret deal with an insurance company

B．he had been angry for a long time with his father—in—law

C．his wife’s family members had disapproved of their marriage

D．his wife had looked on him as a pet and he didn’t feel respected

4.Which of the following is TRUE about the man?

A．He regrets having committed the crime．

B．He will be out of prison in the near future．

C．He thinks the trial a mistake and is unfair．

D．He has found out the

I met him first in 1936. I rushed into his ugly little shop to have the heels of my shoes repaired. I waited when he did it. He greeted me with a cheerful smile. “You’re new in this neighborbood, aren’t you?”

    I said I was. I had moved into a house at the end of the street only a week before.

    “This is a fine neighborhood,” he said. “You’ll be happy here.” He looked at the leather covering the heel sadly. It was worn through because I had failed to have the repair done a month before. I grew impatient, for I was rushing to meet a friend. “Please hurry,” I begged.

    He looked at me over his spectacles. “Now, lady, we won’t be long. I want to do a good job. You see, I have a tradition to live up to.”

    A tradition? In this ugly little shop that was no different from so many other shoe repair shops on the side streets of New York?

    He must have felt my surprise, for he smiled as he went on. “Yes, lady, I inherited a tradition. My father and my grandfather were shoemakers in Italy, and they were the best. My father always told me, ‘Son, do the best job on every shoe that comes into the shop, and be proud of your fine work. Do that always, and you’ll have both happiness and money enough to live on.’”

    As he handed me the finished shoes, he said: “These will last a long time. I’ve used good leather.”

    I left in a hurry. But I had a warm and grateful feeling. On my way home I passed the little shop again. There he was, still working. He saw me, and to my surprise he waved and smiled. This was the beginning of our friendship. It was a friendship that came to mean more and more to me as time passed.

    Every day I passed his shop, we waved to each other in friendly greeting. At first I went in only when I had repair work to be done. Then I found myself going in every few days just to talk with him.

    He was the happiest man I’ve ever known. Often, as he stood in his shopwindow, working at a pair of shoes, he sang in a high, clear Italian voice. The Italians in our neighborhood called him la luce alla finestra—“the light in the window”.

    One day I was disappointed and angry because of poor jobs some painters had done for me. I went into his shop for comfort. He let me go on talking angrily about the poor work and carelessness of present-day workmen. “They had no pride in their work,” I said. “They just wanted to collect their money for doing nothing.”

    He agreed. “There’s a lot of that kind around, but maybe we should not blame them. Maybe their fathers had no pride in their work. That’s hard on a boy. It keeps him from learning something important.” He waited a minute and said “Every man or woman who hasn’t inherited a prideful tradition must start building one.”

    “In this country, our freedom lets each of us make his own contribution. We must make it a good contribution. No matter what sort of work a man does, if he gives it his best each day, he’s starting a tradition for his children to live up to. And he is making lots of happiness for himself.”

    I went to Europe for a few months. When I returned, there was no “light in the window”. The door was closed. There was a little sign: “Call for shoes at shop next door.” I learned the old man had suddenly got sick and died two weeks before

    I went away with a heavy heart. I would miss him. But he had left me something—an important piece of wisdom I shall always remember: “If you inherited a prideful tradition, you must carry it on; if you haven’t, start building one now.”                                            

1.The shoemaker looked sadly at the shoes because __________

A. they were of poor quality.

B. he didn’t have the right kind of leather

C. he thought they were too worn to be repaired

D. the author hadn’t taken good care of them.

2.The author was surprised when she heard that the shop had a tradition because the shop ________.

A. looked no different from other shoe repair shops        

B. had a light in the window

C. was at the end of a street

D. was quite an ugly and dirty one

3.What does the underlined word “inherit” mean in paragraph 6 mean?

A. develop                             B. receive                           C. learn                                  D. appreciate

4.The author later frequently went into the little shop __________.

A. to repair her worn shoes

B. only to chat with the shoemaker

C. to look at the new shoes there

D. only to get comfort from the shoemaker

5.Why was the shoemaker called “the light in the window” by his neighbors?

A. Because he always worked late at night.

B. Because he always put a light in the window.

C. Because he was always guiding the others.

D. Because he was always happy and cheerful.

6.What’s the best title of this passage?

A. A Proud Shoemaker                                                     B. A Prideful Tradition

C. The Light in the Window                                             D. Treasure Your Shoes