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How old was I? I can’t recall. Maybe I was only 10, about to turn 11, making it the first Christmas after my father left, and left me to fill that sad, shattered place in my mother’s heart. Whenever it was, it was the Christmas the magic changed: the year I stopped being a wide-eyed child and tried eagerly to play Father Christmas myself. It was the Christmas of the coat.
Mom first saw the coat at Tobias, one of the nicer women’s stores in our town’s little mall. It was a deep forest green. A long, heavy, wool dress coat with side pockets. Mom pulled it out from the rack（架） and held it up. “Long enough,”she murmured and slipped it on.
“I need a new coat,” Mom smiled before the three-way mirror. She made any clothing look good, and this coat hugged her just right. She glanced at the price tag, then hung the coat back on the rack, pausing once more to feel the smooth brush of wool.
Eighty-seven dollars. But I didn’t think twice. As we moved on through the mall, I found some excuse to come back and ask one of the Tobias ladies to hold the coat.
At last I had the coat. The store ladies wrapped it in their biggest box with bright blue paper and a thick silver ribbon. I don’t remember how I got it home, but I can still feel the bursting excitement and pride that filled me each time I glimpsed at the beautifully wrapped gift hiding under my sweater. I would occasionally dig it out just to hold the box, to imagine the big space it would take up under our tree. Here it was ─ joy, peace, and love ─ all wrapped up, waiting for Mom’s loving gratitude.
36. That the writer’s mother felt the coat before they left the store showed that ____.
A. the coat was of good quality B. the coat was too expensive
C. she liked the coat very much D. she’d get it in the end
37. The writer tried to act as Father Christmas in order to ____.
A. show he grew up B. show he missed his father
C. bring his mother a surprise D. enjoy himself
38. The writer hid the coat under his sweater in order to ____.
A. imagine the space taken up under the Christmas tree
B. feel the strong feeling to his mother on Christmas
C. give his mother a big surprise on Christmas Day
D. keep the new coat tidy and orderly in the box
39. What can be the best title of this passage?
A. A Merry Christmas B. Christmas of the Coat
C. A Deep Green Coat D. Mother’s Merry Christmas
How old was I? I can’t recall. Maybe I was only 10, about to turn 11, making it the first Christmas after my father left, and left me to fill that sad, shattered place in my mother’s heart. Whenever it was, it was the Christmas the magic changed: the year I stopped being a wide-eyed child and tried eagerly to play Father Christmas myself. It was the Christmas of the coat.
Mom first saw the coat at Tobias, one of the nicer women’s stores in our town’s little mall. It was a deep forest green. A long, heavy, wool dress coat with side pockets. Mom pulled it out from the rack（架） and held it up. “Long enough,”she murmured and slipped it on.
“I need a new coat,” Mom smiled before the three-way mirror. She made any clothing look good, and this coat hugged her just right. She glanced at the price tag, then hung the coat back on the rack, pausing once more to feel the smooth brush of wool.
Eighty-seven dollars. But I didn’t think twice. As we moved on through the mall, I found some excuse to come back and ask one of the Tobias ladies to hold the coat.
At last I had the coat. The store ladies wrapped it in their biggest box with bright blue paper and a thick silver ribbon. I don’t remember how I got it home, but I can still feel the bursting excitement and pride that filled me each time I glimpsed at the beautifully wrapped gift hiding under my sweater. I would occasionally dig it out just to hold the box, to imagine the big space it would take up under our tree. Here it was ─ joy, peace, and love ─ all wrapped up, waiting for Mom’s loving gratitude.
36. That the writer’s mother felt the coat before they left the store showed that ____.
A. the coat was of good quality B. the coat was too expensive
C. she liked the coat very much D. she’d get it in the end
37. The writer tried to act as Father Christmas in order to ____.
A. show he grew up B. show he missed his father
C. bring his mother a surprise D. enjoy himself
38. The writer hid the coat under his sweater in order to ____.
A. imagine the space taken up under the Christmas tree
B. feel the strong feeling to his mother on Christmas
C. give his mother a big surprise on Christmas Day
D. keep the new coat tidy and orderly in the box
39. What can be the best title of this passage?
A. A Merry Christmas B. Christmas of the Coat
C. A Deep Green Coat D. Mother’s Merry Christmas
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How old was I? I can’t recall. Maybe I was only 10, about to turn 11, making it the first Christmas after my father left, and left me to fill that sad, shattered place in my mother’s heart. Whenever it was, it was the Christmas the magic changed: the year I stopped being a wide-eyed child and tried eagerly to play Father Christmas myself. It was the Christmas of the coat.
Mom first saw the coat at Tobias, one of the nicer women’s stores in our town’s little mall. It was a deep forest green. A long, heavy, wool dress coat with side pockets. Mom pulled it out from the rack（架） and held it up. “Long enough,”she murmured and slipped it on.
“I need a new coat,” Mom smiled before the three-way mirror. She made any clothing look good, and this coat hugged her just right. She glanced at the price tag, then hung the coat back on the rack, pausing once more to feel the smooth brush of wool.
Eighty-seven dollars. But I didn’t think twice. As we moved on through the mall, I found some excuse to come back and ask one of the Tobias ladies to hold the coat.
At last I had the coat. The store ladies wrapped it in their biggest box with bright blue paper and a thick silver ribbon. I don’t remember how I got it home, but I can still feel the bursting excitement and pride that filled me each time I glimpsed at the beautifully wrapped gift hiding under my sweater. I would occasionally dig it out just to hold the box, to imagine the big space it would take up under our tree. Here it was ─ joy, peace, and love ─ all wrapped up, waiting for Mom’s loving gratitude.
36. That the writer’s mother felt the coat before they left the store showed that ____.
A. the coat was of good quality B. the coat was too expensive
C. she liked the coat very much D. she’d get it in the end
37. The writer tried to act as Father Christmas in order to ____.
A. show he grew up B. show he missed his father
C. bring his mother a surprise D. enjoy himself
38. The writer hid the coat under his sweater in order to ____.
A. imagine the space taken up under the Christmas tree
B. feel the strong feeling to his mother on Christmas
C. give his mother a big surprise on Christmas Day
D. keep the new coat tidy and orderly in the box
39. What can be the best title of this passage?
A. A Merry Christmas B. Christmas of the Coat
C. A Deep Green Coat D. Mother’s Merry Christmas
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I was six when I joined my father's fields in Okla. By the time I was eight, I was helping Dad 36 old furniture. He gave me a cent for every nail I 37 out of old boards. I got my first real job, at JM's Restaurant when I was 12. My main responsibilities were 38 tables. At that age, it was 39 going to work and glimpsed at my friends run off to swim or play. I didn't necessarily like work, but I loved what working 40 me to have. Because of my job, I was always the first one to buy something delicious. This made me 41 .
Word that I was trustworthy and hard-working 42 around town. A local clothing store offered me credit despite my young age. I immediately bought an expensive coat and shoes on credit. I was 43 only 65 cents an hour, and I already owed the store keeper $90!
So I learned 44 the danger of easy credit. I paid it off as soon as I could. My first job taught me 45 and brought me a level of personal satisfaction few of my friends had 46 . As my father, who worked three jobs, once told me, “If you understand sacrifice and 47 , there are not many things in life you can't have.” How right he was.
1.A. make B. paint C. sell D. repair
2.A. pulled B. put C. picked D. pressed
3.A. sweeping B. packing C. clearing D. emptying
4.A. easy B. heavy C. difficult D. pleasant
5.A. allowed B. preferred C. taught D. managed
6.A. proud B. rich C. grateful D. hopeful
7.A. showed B. got C. flew D. carried
8.A. raising B. spending C. counting D. making
9.A. greatly B. actually C. hardly D. really
10.A. self-development B. self-control C. self-criticism D. self-confidence
11.A. lost B. improved C. developed D. experienced
12.A. responsibility B. promise C. independence D. ambition
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When I was young, I went looking for gold in California. I never found enough to make a rich strike. But I did discover a beautiful part of the country called Stanislau. Like Heaven on Earth, it had bright green hills and deep forests where soft winds touched the trees. By the time I arrived, the charming paradise had been deserted because miners’ good luck didn’t last.
Then, I realized I was not alone after all.
A man was smiling at me as he stood in front of his little house. Its front yard was full of blue and yellow flowers. White curtains hung from the windows and floated in the soft summer wind.
Still smiling, the man invited me inside. My spirit seemed to come to life again. I saw a bright rug on the shining wooden floor. And on little tables there were seashells, books and china vases full of flowers. A woman had made this house into a home. The delight in my heart showed on my face. The man read my thoughts. “All her work.” He said affectionately, “Nothing here hasn’t felt the touch of her hand.”
One picture on the wall was not hanging straight. He went to fix it. He stepped back several times to make sure the picture was straight. Then he gave it a gentle touch. “She always does that,” he explained, “It is like the finishing pat a mother gives her child’s hair after she has brushed it. I don’t know why I do it. I just do it.”
As he talked, I went to a little black-walnut shelf that held a small picture of the most beautiful creature I had ever seen. There was a sweetness and softness in the woman’s expression. The man stared at the picture. “Nineteen her last birthday. That was the day we married. When you see her...ah, just wait until you meet her!” “Where is she now?” I asked. “Oh, she is away visiting her parents. This is Wednesday,” he said slowly. “She will be back on Saturday, in the evening.”
That night, I stayed. The man told me his name was Henry.
Thursday evening we had two visitors, Tom and Joe. “We just drop over to ask when little madam is coming home. Any news from her?” “Oh yes,” the man replied. “A letter.” He took a yellowed letter out of his wallet and read it. It was full of loving messages. While reading, he glimpsed his friends and cried out, “Oh no, you are doing it again, Tom! Take your hands away and let me see your eyes. I’m going to tell her this time!” “No, you mustn’t do that, Henry,” the grey-haired miner said. “I am getting old. And any little sorrow makes me cry. Lord, we miss her so.”
Saturday finally came.
I was glad to see his two friends, Tom and Joe, with guitars, coming down the road as the sun began to set. They put the flowers they brought in vases and began to play some fast and lively songs.
Henry’s friends kept giving him glasses of whiskey. When I reached for one of the two remaining glasses, Tom stopped my arm. “Drop that! Take the other.” he whispered. I did so. Henry was served last. He had hardly swallowed his drink when the clock struck midnight. His face grew pale and paler. “Boys,” he said, “I am sick with fear. Help! I want to lie down.” Henry was asleep almost before the words were out of his mouth.
In a moment, those handy men had his clothes off and tucked him into his bed. They seemed to be getting ready to leave. So I said, “Please don’t go, gentlemen. She won’t know me. I am a stranger.” They glanced at each other. Then Joe said, “She? Poor thing, she’s been dead nineteen years!” “Dead?” I whispered. “That or worse.” he said.
“She went to see her folks half a year after she got married. On her way back, on a Saturday evening in June, when she was almost here, the Indians captured her. She’s never been heard of since. Henry went insane. But he only gets bad when that time of year comes round. Then we drop in here, three days before she’s due, to encourage him up and listen to him read the letter. Saturday we all come and get everything ready for a dance. We’ve done it for nineteen years. The first Saturday there were twenty-seven of us, but only two now. We drug him to sleep through the night. Then he’s all right for another year.”
The two old men opened the door and disappeared into the darkness of Stanislau.
1.You can sense the existence of a woman from the following sentences EXCEPT “______”.
A. Soft winds touched the trees in Stanislau.
B. There was a bright rug on the shining wooden floor.
C. There were seashells, books and china vases full of flowers.
D. A little black shelf held a small picture of a woman.
2.Tom cried when Henry read the yellowed letter, because ______.
A. he was getting older and older
B. he was moved by the loving messages in the letter
C. he felt sad at the thought of Henry’s wife
D. he was disappointed that Henry’s wife would arrive so late
3.Tom stopped my reaching for whiskey because ______.
A. there was not enough whiskey for Henry B. he didn’t want me to get drunk
C. that glass of whiskey was drugged D. it was for Henry’s wife
4.The underlined word “insane” probably means “______”.
A. depressed B. disappointed C. mad D. sick
5.It can be inferred from the passage that ______.
A. Henry’s wife was 38 when she was last seen
B. Tom and Joe have heard the letter many times
C. the author stayed in Henry’s house because he was lost
D. the two miners came on Saturday to share past memories
6.The story is mainly about ______.
A. ever-lasting love B. lifelong friendship
C. an unforgettable experience D. charming Stanislau
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