第二部分　阅读理解 (共15小题；每小题2分，满分30分)

Each time I see a balloon, my mind flies back to a memory of when I was a six-year-old girl. It was a rainy Sunday and my father had recently died. I asked my mom if Dad had gone to heaven. "Yes, honey. Of course," she said.

    "Can we write him a letter?"

    She paused, the longest pause of my short life, and answered, "Yes."

    My heart jumped. "How? Does the mailman go there?" I asked.

    "No, but I have an idea." Mom drove to a party store and returned with a red balloon. I asked her what it was for.

    "Just wait, honey. You'll see." Mom told me to write my letter. Eagerly, I got my favorite pen, and poured out my six-year-old heart in the form of blue ink. I wrote about my day, what I learned at school, how Morn was doing, and even about what happened in a story I had read. For a few minutes it was as if Dad were still alive. I gave the letter to Mom. She read it over, and a smile crossed her face.

    She made a hole in the corner of the letter where she looped(缠绕) the balloon string. We went outside and she gave me the balloon. It was still raining.

    "Okay, on the count of three, let go. One, two, three."

   The balloon, carrying my letter, darted(猛冲) upward against the rain. We watched until it was swallowed by the mass of clouds.

   Later I realized, like the balloon, that Dad had never let his sickness get him down. He was strong. No matter what he suffered, he'd persevere, dart up, and finally transcend(超越) this cold world and his sick body. He rose into sky and became something beautiful. I watched until the balloon disappeared into the gray and white and I prayed that his strength was hereditary(遗传的). I prayed to be a balloon.

56. When the girl asked her mother if they could write to her father, her mother ______.

   A. felt it hard to answer                           B. thought her a creative girl

C. believed it easy to do so                       D. found it easy to lie

57. When the girl was told that she could send a letter to her father, she ______.

   A. jumped with joy                        B. became excited

   C. started writing immediately            D. was worried that it couldn't be delivered

58. In the eyes of the author, what was the rain like?

A. An incurable disease.                        B. An unforgettable memory.

   C. The hard time her father had.                    D. The failures her father experienced.

59. What would be the best title for the passage?

    A. The strong red balloon                         B. An unforgettable experience

   C. Fly to paradise                          D. A great father

Each time I see a balloon, my mind flies back to a memory of when I was a six-year-old girl. It was a rainy Sunday and my father had recently died. I asked my mom if Dad had gone to heaven. "Yes, honey. Of course." she said.

    "Can we write him a letter?"

    She paused, the longest pause of my short life, and answered, "Yes."

    My heart jumped. "How? Does the mailman go there?" I asked.

    "No, but I have an idea." Mom drove to a party store and returned with a red balloon. I asked her what it was for.

    "Just wait, honey. You'll see." Mom told me to write my letter. Eagerly, I got my favorite pen, and poured out my six-year-old heart in the form of blue ink. I wrote about my day, what I learned at school, how Mom was doing, and even about what happened in a story I had read. For a few minutes it was as if Dad were still alive. I gave the letter to Mom. She read it over, and a smile crossed her face.

    She made a hole in the corner of the letter where she looped (缠绕) the balloon string. We went outside and she gave me the balloon. It was still raining.

    "Okay, on the count of three, let go. One, two, three."

The balloon, carrying my letter, darted upward against the rain. We watched until it was swallowed by the mass of clouds.

Later I realized, like the balloon, that Dad had never let his sickness get him down. He was strong. No matter what he suffered, he'd persevere, dart up, and finally transcend (超越) this cold world and his sick body. He rose into sky and became something beautiful. I watched until the balloon disappeared into the gray and white and I prayed that his strength was hereditar. I prayed to be a balloon.

1.When the girl asked her mother if they could write to her father, her mother _________.

    A．felt it hard to answer               B．thought her a creative girl

    C．believed it easy to do so            D．found it easy to lie

2.When the girl was told that she could send a letter to her father, she _________.

    A．jumped with joy                      B．became excited

    C．started writing immediately                              D．was worried that it couldn't be delivered

3.In the eyes of the author, what was the rain like?

    A．An incurable disease.                B．An unforgettable memory.

    C．The hard time her father had.                            D．The failures her father experienced.

4.What would be the best title for the passage?

    A．An unforgettable experience          B．The strong red balloon

    C．Fly to paradise                                          D．A great father

Each time I see a balloon, my mind flies back to a memory of when I was a six-year-old girl. It was a rainy Sunday and my father had recently died. I asked my mom if Dad had gone to heaven. “Yes, honey. Of course.” she said.

    “Can we write him a letter?”

    She paused, the longest pause of my short life, and answered, “Yes.”

    My heart jumped. “How? Does the mailman go there?” I asked.

    “No, but I have an idea.” Mom drove to a party store and returned with a red balloon. I asked her what it was for.

    “Just wait, honey. You’ll see.” Mom told me to write my letter. Eagerly, I got my favorite pen, and poured out my six-year-old heart in the form of blue ink. I wrote about my day, what I learned at school, how Mom was doing, and even about what happened in a story I had read. For a few minutes it was as if Dad were still alive. I gave the letter to Mom. She read it over, and a smile crossed her face.

    She made a hole in the corner of the letter where she looped (缠绕) the balloon string. We went outside and she gave me the balloon. It was still raining.

    “Okay, on the count of three, let go. One, two, three.”

The balloon, carrying my letter, darted upward against the rain. We watched until it was swallowed by the mass of clouds.

Later I realized, like the balloon, that Dad had never let his sickness get him down. He was strong. No matter what he suffered, he’d persevere, dart up, and finally transcend this cold world and his sick body. He rose into sky and became something beautiful. I watched until the balloon disappeared into the gray and white and I prayed that his strength was hereditary. I prayed to be a balloon.

1.What does the underlined sentence imply?

A. When the girl asked if they could write to her father, her mother felt it hard to answer.    

B. When the girl asked if they could write to her father, her mother thought her a creative girl.

C. When the girl asked if they could write to her father, her mother believed it easy to do so.        

D. When the girl asked if they could write to her father, her mother found it easy to lie.

2.When the girl was told that she could send a letter to her father, she _________.

A. jumped with surprise                     B. became excited

C. didn’t know how to write                           D. was worried that it couldn’t be delivered

3.In the eyes of the author, what was the rain like?

A. An incurable disease.                              B. An unforgettable memory.

C. The hard time her father had.        D. The failures her father experienced.

4.What would be the best title for the passage?

A. An unforgettable experience.                     B. The strong red balloon.

C. Fly to paradise.                       D. A great father.

Speaking of Copenhagen, what do you think of? The little Mermaid, the fairy tale writer H.C. Anderson, the COP15 meetings , or a city where people bike even though they have cars.
When landing on Copenhagen Tasstrup Airport, you can see numbers of white propeller generators standing in the blue waterfront. The constant moving paddles are producing renewable energy to the city. During the recent Climate Change Conference, the city was introduced to the world as an example of climate-friendly city. Evidences other than wind power stations were obvious everywhere.
While private cars can be a great source of pollution in other cities, the main form of transport in the capital of Denmark is, however, public transportation. By public transportation, I mean one of very good quality. Buses are usually Volvo and most of the traffic lights are of Siemens. Additionally, buses, metros and intercity-trains (named S-train) are well equipped, constantly maintained, special and good-looking. The seats in the trains are of sofa-designed. Sticky gum or dirty spot rarely appear. Thanks to a small population, it is much easier to maintain the condition of the vehicles. Free wireless internet service is provided in S-trains. Seats are always possible even at rush hours if the passenger is patient enough to look for it. Taking the convenience for granted, Danish people find it hard to imagine how the metro in Tokyo can be as crowded as a “sardin can”. Pets and baby-wagons are allowed in buses, subways and S-trains. All the facilities enable better service to bigger passenger group. It is also notable that the mass transit uses green fuels and electricity.
Cars are common in Copenhagen, but people have an alternative of short distance transport: bikes. Denmark is known as bike-friendly for many reasons, such as flat land, splendid cycle ways, and the Danish fond of motion. But please be aware that riding a bike in Copenhagen is not like biking in Beijing. First of all, it is quite speedy. Many people ride to work every morning. Punctuality is important and they have to ride as fast as possible to be on time. So why not speed up? Not my philosophy. As a result, I am often hastened by impatient riders who unfortunately piled up after me. Second, considering the speed, bike helmets, front and back lights and other necessary accessories are required. Riders need to set a white light in the front of the bike and red light at the back. One may end up with a big fine if not riding with them.
72. In the passage we get to know that _____.
all energy come from wind power stations
different kinds of green energy keep this city running
a lot of electricity is imported from other countries
people in this city use little energy
73. S-trains are a kind of transportation______.
A. which send their passengers from one city to another.
B. which uses wind to run their ways
C. which is the only way for you to go from one city to another.
D. which you are not allowed to take if you take a pet.
74. In the last paragraph what does “Punctuality” mean?
A. Being fit         B. Not being scolded       C. Not being late      D. Speeding
75. In Copenhagen if you ride too slow ,_____
A. you will be fined by police.
B. it means that you need to buy a better bike.
C. you may block the traffic flow.
D. many bike riders will shout at you.

Each time I see a balloon, my mind flies back to a memory of when I was a six-year-old girl. It was a rainy Sunday and my father had recently died. I asked my mom if Dad had gone to heaven. "Yes, honey. Of course." she said.
"Can we write him a letter?"
She paused, the longest pause of my short life, and answered, "Yes."
My heart jumped. "How? Does the mailman go there?" I asked.
"No, but I have an idea." Mom drove to a party store and returned with a red balloon. I asked her what it was for.
"Just wait, honey. You'll see." Mom told me to write my letter. Eagerly, I got my favorite pen, and poured out my six-year-old heart in the form of blue ink. I wrote about my day, what I learned at school, how Mom was doing, and even about what happened in a story I had read. For a few minutes it was as if Dad were still alive. I gave the letter to Mom. She read it over, and a smile crossed her face.
She made a hole in the corner of the letter where she looped (缠绕) the balloon string. We went outside and she gave me the balloon. It was still raining.
"Okay, on the count of three, let go. One, two, three."
The balloon, carrying my letter, darted upward against the rain. We watched until it was swallowed by the mass of clouds.
Later I realized, like the balloon, that Dad had never let his sickness get him down. He was strong. No matter what he suffered, he'd persevere, dart up, and finally transcend (超越) this cold world and his sick body. He rose into sky and became something beautiful. I watched until the balloon disappeared into the gray and white and I prayed that his strength was hereditar. I prayed to be a balloon.
【小题1】When the girl asked her mother if they could write to her father, her mother _________.