Writing articles about films for The Front Page was my first proper job．Before then I had done bits of reviewing --- novels for other newspapers, films for a magazine and anything I was asked to do for the radio．That was how I met Tom Seaton, the first arts editor of The Front Page, who had also written for television．He hired me, but Tom was not primarily a journalist, or he would certainly have been more careful in choosing his staff．

    At first, his idea was that a team of critics should take care of the art forms that didn’t require specialized knowledge: books, TV, theatre, film and radio．There would be a weekly lunch at which we would make our choices from the artistic material that Tom had decided we should cover, though there would also be guests to make the atmosphere sociable．

   Tom’s original plan for a team of critics for the arts never took off．It was a good idea, but we didn’t get together as planned and so everything was done by phone．It turned out, too, that the general public out there preferred to associate a reviewer with a single subject area, and so I chose film．Without Tom’s initial push, though, we would hardly have come up with the present arrangement, by which I write an extended weekly piece, usually on one film．

    The space I am given allows me to broaden my argument --- or forces me, in an uninteresting week, to make something out of nothing．But what is my role in the public arena（舞台）? I suppose that people choose what films to go to on the basis of the stars, the publicity of the director．So if a film review isn’t really a consumer guide, what is it? I certainly don’t feel I have a responsibility to be ‘right’ about a movie．Nor do I think there should be a certain number of ‘great’ and ‘bad’ films each year．All I have to do is put forward an argument．I’m not a judge, and nor would I want to be．

1.What do we learn about Tom Seaton from the first paragraph?

       A．He encouraged Mark to become a writer．

       B．He had worked in various areas of the media．

       C．He met Mark when working for a film company．

       D．He prefers to employ people that he knows．

2.The weekly lunches were planned in order to ______．

       A．help the writers get to know each other

       B．provide an informal information party

       C．divide the work that had to be done

       D．entertain important visitors from the arts

3.What does the author mean when he says that Tom’s plan ‘never took off’ in Paragraph 3?

       A．It was unpopular．               B．It wasted too much time．

       C．It wasn’t planned properly．     D．It wasn’t put into practice．

4.Which of the following best describes what Mark says about his work?

       A．His success varies from year to year．   B．He prefers to write about films he likes．

       C．He can freely express his opinion．     D．He writes according to accepted rules．

When my son was first diagnosed with autism （孤独症）, it was a very hard time for us．In some ways it was a  16_ because we finally knew the name．of the disease after visiting many hospitals, but it also  17__ years bf uncertainty, and we didn't know what  18_was like．
When I  19__the news with my coworkers, I was so surprised but happy to receive so much immediate   20  from them ．They were focused on what we_21___, not how it would affect my ability to work．
One coworker in particular was  22__, She was always kind and considerate; She called me into her  23__ a few days later, and gave me a（n） "  24__stone''．It is a small stone with an indention （凹陷）for your  25__, It gives you something to  26__ when you're worried ． rubbing your thumb around on this stone．It was a lovely 27__．It turned out to be an effective way to reduce anxiety．
She then made a permanent offer to 28_ us to any appointment or testing we needed． Considering the fact that we_ 29__ 90 minutes from where most．treatments took place, this was a（n）  30_offer．She made it very clear to me that this offer  31_last-minute trips or emergencies．Anytime we needed to go anywhere , She was willing to be our transportation．
We never did need to bother her,   32__ knowing it was there and that she was so willing to 33__ made it feel like we were much less _34  ．
I'm very grateful to her and．  35__ around us who came together to be a support system in our time of need．We were really moved by the level of support we received．

【小题9】

A．-fear B．peace C．anger D．worry

When I decided to get married, my father decided to share some wisdom. “Lori, it is just as easy to love a rich man as it is to love a poor man, “ he said. My boyfriend didn’t have much money, but I loved him. “What?” I cried. “ How can you say that? I want to marry for love, NOT for money.” “ But why not marry someone you love who has money?” he asked. “Rich men are materialistic（物质主义的）. I’d rather marry a poor man who loves me,” I said and he gave in.
And as we went on, with my family growing, I learned why my father put such importance on money. We had to cover the rent, car, electricity, food, and medical bills. We were under lot of pressure. The worries over whether we would be asked to move out or if we had the money to wash our clothes at the Laundromat this week made me question if I did the right thing by marrying a “poor” man.
I realized that I had entered the ranks of the poor. Not that I’d ever been rich. Most of my life, I considered us in the lower middle-class rank. We had a house of our own, food on the table, cars, clothes, and money for college. But now, as I listened to an apartment neighbour talk about her monthly “Mother’s Day” gift, I realized she was talking about her welfare check（政府发放的救济金）. And another young mother tried to “help” me out by connecting me with a friend who stole baby clothes from a department store. “ For a small cut,” she said, “ I could return my ‘purchase’(购买的东西）for cash.” It made me sick. How poor was I?
I had a college education but wasn’t using it. I insisted on not missing a minute of our children’s childhood and it came at a price. My husband was working as hard as he could and it wasn’t enough. But somehow we made it.
The kids grew. Today, we look back and see the great values gained by going through those hard years. My children are not materialistic. They never thought they were poor growing up because we always managed to give a little bit of food, money, or clothes to the “poor”. They were satisfied with the simple things in life that come free such as a beach day or a horse back ride from their dad.
We had our worries, but we still treasured our very favorite part of the day when we’d nest (栖息地）under the covers and talked about our future, the kids and how much we loved each other. Sure our financial(财政的) troubles caused a lot of fights, but we didn’t leave each other. We began to live a better life. We moved to a better community(社区）with good schools for the kids. And soon, we’ll face a new challenge with wealth. But we’ll never give up.
My father died three years ago. Before he died, he knew I made the right choice. I’m proud of my decision.
【小题1】.The writer argued with her father because _________________.

It was Saturday . As always, it was a busy one, for “Six days shall you labor and do all your work” was taken seriously back then. Outside,Father and Mr. Patrick next door were busy chopping firewood. Inside their own houses, Mother and Mrs. Patrick  were engaged in spring cleaning.

      Somehow the boys had slipped away to the back lot with their kites. Now, even at the risk of having Brother caught to beat carpets , they had sent him to the  kitchen for string(线). It seemed there was no limit to the heights to which kites would  fly today.

   My mother looked at the sitting room ,its furniture disorderd for a thorough sweeping, Agun she cast a look toward the window. “Come on, girls ! Let’s take string to the boys and watch them

    On the way we met Mrs. Patrick, laughing guiltily as if she were doing something

wrong, together with her girls.

   There never was such a day for flying kited! We played all our fresh string into  the boys’ kites and they went up higher and higher .We could hardly distinguish   the orange-colored spots of the kites. Now and then we slowly pulled one kite back, watching it dancing up and down it the wind, and finally bringing it down to earth , just for the joy of sending it up again.

   Even our fathers dropped their tools and joined us. Our mothers took their turn, laughing like schoolgirls. I think we were all beside ourselves. Parents forgot their  duty and their dignity; children forgot their everyday fights and little jealousies. “Perhaps it’s like this in the kingdom of heaven,”  I thought confusedly.

   It was growing dark before we all walked sleepily back to house. I suppose we   had some sort of supper. I suppose there must have been a surface tidying-up, for the house on Sunday looked clean and orderly enough. The strange thing was , we didn't mention that day afterward. I flt a little embarrassed .Surely none of the others had been as excited as I. I locked the memory up in that deepest part of me where we  keep“the things that cannot be and yet they are.”

    The years went on, then one day I was hurrying about my kitchen in a city  apartment, trying to get some work out of the way while my three-year-old insistently  cried her desire to “go park ,see duck.”

  “I can’t go!”  I said. “I have this and this to do, and when I’m through I’ll be too  tired to walk that for.”

   My mother , who was visiting us , looked up from the peas she was shelling ,“It’s a wonderful day,”she offered，“Really warm , yet there’s a fine breczc . Do you  remember that day we flew kites?”

   I stopped in my dash between stove and sink . The looked door flew open and  with it a rush of memories. “Come on.”I told my little girl. “You’re right , it’s too  good a day to miss.”

    Another decade passed. We were in the aftermath (余波)of a great war. All evening we had been asking our returned soldier, the youngest Patrick Boy, about  his experiences as a prisoner of war. He had talked freely , but now for a long time  he had been silent . What was he thinking of – what dark and horrible things?

  “Say!” A smile slipped out from his lips . “Do you remember --- no, of course  you wouldn’t . It probably didn’t make the impression on you as it did on me.”

   I hardly dared speak.“Remember what ?”

  “I used to think of that day a lot in POW camp(战俘营), when things weren’t too  good. Do you remember the day we flew the kites?”

1.

Mrs. Patrick was laughing guiltily because she thought       .

A. she was too old to fly kites

B. her husband would make fun of her

C. she should have been doing her housework then

D. her girls weren’t supposed to play the boy’s game

2.

 By“we were all beside ourselves”, the writer means that they all      .

   A. felt confused                    B. went wild with joy

   C. looked on                      D. forgot their fights

3.

  What did the writer think after the kite-flying?

A. The boys must have had more fun than the girls.

B. They should have finished their work before playing.

C. Her parents should spend more time with them.

D. All the others must have forgotten that day.

4.

 Why did the writer finally agree to take her little girl for an outing?

A. She suddenly remembered her duty as a mother.

B. She was reminded of the day they flew kites.

C. She had finished her work in the kitchen.

D. She thought it was a great day to play outside.

5.

The youngest Patrick Boy is mentioned to show that _____ .

A. the writer was not alone in treasuring her fond memories

B. his experience in POW camp threw a shadow over his life

C. childhood friendship means so much to the writer

D. people like him really changed a lot after the war

As I sat beside the window of our classroom that afternoon, my heart sank further with each passing car. This was a day I’d looked forward to for weeks: Miss Pace’s fourth-grade, end-of-the-year party.

I had happily volunteered my mother when Miss Pace looked for cookie volunteers. Mom’s chocolate chips were well-known, and I knew they’d be a hit with my classmates. But two o’clock passed, and there was no sign of her. Most of the other mothers had already come and gone, dropping off their sweet offerings.

The three o’clock bell soon took me away from my thoughts and I took my book bag from my desk.

I decided I would slam the front door, and refuse to return her hug. But when I arrived, she wasn’t at home.

I was lying face-down on my bed upstairs when I heard her come through the front door.

“Robbie,” she called out a bit urgently. “Where are you?”

I could then hear her rushing anxiously from room to room, wondering where I could be. I remained silent.

Coming through the door, she said: “I’m so sorry, honey,” she said. “I just forgot. I got busy and forgot.”

Then my mother did something completely unexpected. She began to laugh! How could she laugh at a time like this? I rolled over and faced her, ready to let her see my rage (愤怒).

But my mother wasn’t laughing at all. She was crying. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I let you down. I let my little boy down.”

I was moved by her tears.

I tried to remember her kind words from times past when I’d skinned knees or cut myself, times when she knew just the right thing to say.

“It’s okay, Mom. We didn’t even need those cookies. There was plenty of stuff to eat. Don’t cry. It’s all right. Really.”

We didn’t say another word. We just held each other. When we came to the point where I would usually pull away, I decided that, this time, I could hold on, perhaps, just a little bit longer.

1.. The author was pretty down because ______.

A. he couldn’t go to the party he had been looking forward to

B. his mother didn’t turn up at the party as she had promised

C. his mother had refused to make chocolate chips for the party

D. the cookies his mom made was not popular at the party