He looked friendly　　  me and seemed 　　 me like an old friend．

A．to：to　　　　　　 B．at；to

C．at；for　　　　    D．towards．by

A．to：to　　　　　　 B．at；to

C．at；for　　　　    D．towards．by

The old shopkeeper led me through to the back of the shop. The room was filled with boxes and photographs of people dressed in old-fashioned clothes, holding packages in their hands.

“Who are these people?” I asked.

“Satisfied customers,” answered young Mr. Hopkins. “We have a very wide choice of items for sale. Whenever I serve a new customer. I always take their picture.” Mr. Hopkins pointed to an ancient camera standing next to one wall. “Now, how can I serve you?” he added.

By this time, I had started to trust Mr. Hopkins and had begun to appreciate the lovely items on sale. I needed to buy Christmas presents for my family and friends, and this seemed to be the perfect place to purchase them. I spent a very pleasant hour being shown the articles in Mr.  Hopkins’s shop. No matter what I asked for, Mr. Hopkins found it for me. Finally, I bought an antique jewellery box, a pair of riding boots, a leather-bound edition of the Complete Works of Mark Twain, and a sewing machine.

I was very excited that I had found such a good little shop. I promised Mr. Hopkins that I would come back soon. “I will tell all my friends about your lovely place,” I told the shopkeeper.

“Please do not do that, sir”, said Mr. Hopkins. “This is a special place for special people. You must keep this shop a secret.” Then he took my photograph, and handed me the picture straight away.

“That was quick!” I exclaimed. I looked at the photograph. In the picture I looked proud and excited holding the presents I had bought in Mr. Hopkins’ dusty shop.

On Christmas Day, my friend and relatives were delighted with the presents I had bought for them. For weeks, my brother begged me to show him where to find this wonderful little shop. I finally agreed to take him to London to show him.

When we arrived in London, we walked along Oxford Street, past the department store and found…nothing. The little shop was no longer there. In its place was an empty space being used as a car park. I checked the area, again. There was the music shop, and there was the department store. In between should have been Hopkins and Son, but it wasn’t there.

As I was staring at the place where the shop should have been, an old policeman came along. “Are you looking for something sir? ” he asked.

I turned and said “I am looking for a little shop called Hopkins and Son. I thought  it was here.”

“Oh yes,” said the policeman. “There was a shop here once called Hopkins and Son. It sold all sorts of things, but it was  knocked down over 30 years ago.”

I looked again at the place where the shop had been. Then I reached into my pocket and took out the photograph that Mr. Hopkins had taken of me holding my presents in the little shop.

“How strange” I exclaimed.

1．The photos in the back of the shop showed          .

       A．the items that Mr. Hopkins had sold       B．Mr. Hopkins’ family members

       C．Mr. Hopkins’ former customers            D．the antique paintings.

2．How did the writer like the shop?

       A．He found it a modern big shop.

       B．He thought it a wonderful shop for old books.

       C．He liked the ancient camera in the shop most.

       D．He found it a dusty, old but friendly and lovely little shop.

3．Which of the following is true about shop?

       A．It was a very famous little shop in London.

       B．It was a popular bookshop in Oxford.

       C．It was between a music shop and a department store.

       D．It sold Christmas presents only.

4．The word “the articles” in the 4^th paragraph means          .

       A．the goods in the shop                           B．the writer’s works

       C．Mr. Hopkins’ writings                          D．some writings by old customers

5．Which of the following is the best title of this passage?

       A．Christmas Shopping                             B．Hopkings and His Son

       C．The Strange Experience   D．The Little shop

The old shopkeeper led me through to the back of the shop. The room was filled with boxes and photographs of people dressed in old-fashioned clothes, holding packages in their hands.

“Who are these people?” I asked.

“Satisfied customers,” answered young Mr. Hopkins. “We have a very wide choice of items for sale. Whenever I serve a new customer，I always take their picture.” Mr. Hopkins pointed to an ancient camera standing next to one wall. “Now, how can I serve you?” he added.

By this time, I had started to trust Mr. Hopkins and had begun to appreciate the lovely items on sale. I needed to buy Christmas presents for my family and friends, and this seemed to be the perfect place to purchase them. I spent a very pleasant hour being shown the articles in Mr. Hopkins’s shop. No matter what I asked for, Mr. Hopkins found it for me. Finally, I bought an antique jewellery box, a pair of riding boots, a leather-bound edition of the Complete Works of Mark Twain, and a sewing machine.

I was very excited that I had found such a good little shop. I promised Mr. Hopkins that I would come back soon. “I will tell all my friends about your lovely place,” I told the shopkeeper.

“Please do not do that, sir”, said Mr. Hopkins. “This is a special place for special people. You must keep this shop a secret.” Then he took my photograph, and handed me the picture straight away. “That was quick!” I exclaimed. I looked at the photograph. In the picture I looked proud and excited holding the presents I had bought in Mr. Hopkins’ dusty shop.

On Christmas Day, my friend and relatives were delighted with the presents I had bought for them. For weeks, my brother begged me to show him where to find this wonderful little shop. I finally agreed to take him to London to show him.

When we arrived in London, we walked along Oxford Street, passed the department store and found…nothing. The little shop was no longer there. In its place was an empty space being used as a car park. I checked the area, again. There was the music shop, and there was the department store. In between should have been Hopkins and Son, but it wasn’t there.

As I was staring at the place where the shop should have been, an old policeman came along. “Are you looking for something, sir?” he asked. I turned and said “I am looking for a little shop called Hopkins and Son. I thought it was here.”

“Oh yes,” said the policeman. “There was a shop here once called Hopkins and Son. It sold all sorts of things, but it was knocked down over 30 years ago.”

I looked again at the place where the shop had been. Then I reached into my pocket and took out the photograph that Mr. Hopkins had taken of me holding my presents in the little shop.

“How strange!” I exclaimed.

61. The photos in the back of the shop showed          .

         A．the items that Mr. Hopkins had sold  B．Mr. Hopkins’ family members

         C．Mr. Hopkins’ former customers      D．the antique paintings.

62. How did the writer like the shop?

     A. He found it a modern big shop.         

         B. He thought it a wonderful shop for old books.

         C. He liked the ancient camera in the shop most.

     D. He found it a dusty, old but friendly and lovely little shop.

63. Which of the following is true about shop?

    A. It was a very famous little shop in London.     

    B. It was a popular bookshop in Oxford.

    C. It was between a music shop and a department store.    

    D. It sold Christmas presents only.

64. The word “the articles” in the 4th paragraph means          .

         A．the goods in the shop        B．the writer’s works

         C．Mr. Hopkins’ writings        D．some writings by old customers

65. Which of the following is the best title for this passage?

         A. Christmas Shopping          B. Hopkins and Son 

    C. The articles                 D. A Little shop

The old shopkeeper led me through to the back of the shop. The room was filled with boxes and photographs of people dressed in old-fashioned clothes, holding packages in their hands.

“Who are these people?” I asked.

“Satisfied customers,” answered young Mr. Hopkins. “We have a very wide choice of items for sale. Whenever I serve a new customer，I always take their picture.” Mr. Hopkins pointed to an ancient camera standing next to one wall. “Now, how can I serve you?” he added.

By this time, I had started to trust Mr. Hopkins and had begun to appreciate the lovely items on sale. I needed to buy Christmas presents for my family and friends, and this seemed to be the perfect place to purchase them. I spent a very pleasant hour being shown the articles in Mr. Hopkins’s shop. No matter what I asked for, Mr. Hopkins found it for me. Finally, I bought an antique jewellery box, a pair of riding boots, a leather-bound edition of the Complete Works of Mark Twain, and a sewing machine.

I was very excited that I had found such a good little shop. I promised Mr. Hopkins that I would come back soon. “I will tell all my friends about your lovely place,” I told the shopkeeper.

“Please do not do that, sir”, said Mr. Hopkins. “This is a special place for special people. You must keep this shop a secret.” Then he took my photograph, and handed me the picture straight away. “That was quick!” I exclaimed. I looked at the photograph. In the picture I looked proud and excited holding the presents I had bought in Mr. Hopkins’ dusty shop.

On Christmas Day, my friend and relatives were delighted with the presents I had bought for them. For weeks, my brother begged me to show him where to find this wonderful little shop. I finally agreed to take him to London to show him.

When we arrived in London, we walked along Oxford Street, passed the department store and found…nothing. The little shop was no longer there. In its place was an empty space being used as a car park. I checked the area, again. There was the music shop, and there was the department store. In between should have been Hopkins and Son, but it wasn’t there.

As I was staring at the place where the shop should have been, an old policeman came along. “Are you looking for something, sir?” he asked. I turned and said “I am looking for a little shop called Hopkins and Son. I thought it was here.”

“Oh yes,” said the policeman. “There was a shop here once called Hopkins and Son. It sold all sorts of things, but it was knocked down over 30 years ago.”

I looked again at the place where the shop had been. Then I reached into my pocket and took out the photograph that Mr. Hopkins had taken of me holding my presents in the little shop.

“How strange!” I exclaimed.

61. The photos in the back of the shop showed          .

       A．the items that Mr. Hopkins had sold  B．Mr. Hopkins’ family members

       C．Mr. Hopkins’ former customers    D．the antique paintings.

62. How did the writer like the shop?

     A. He found it a modern big shop.    

       B. He thought it a wonderful shop for old books.

       C. He liked the ancient camera in the shop most.

     D. He found it a dusty, old but friendly and lovely little shop.

63. Which of the following is true about shop?

    A. It was a very famous little shop in London.     

    B. It was a popular bookshop in Oxford.

    C. It was between a music shop and a department store.     

    D. It sold Christmas presents only.

64. The word “the articles” in the 4th paragraph means          .

       A．the goods in the shop      B．the writer’s works

       C．Mr. Hopkins’ writings     D．some writings by old customers

65. Which of the following is the best title for this passage?

       A. Christmas Shopping          B. Hopkins and Son 

    C. The articles                 D. A Little shop