Hardly down he stepped in. A. had I sat; than B. I had sat; when C. had I sat; t——青夏教育精英家教网—

                                                                     A Gift of God
     One fine summer morning-it was the beginning of harvest, I remember-Mr. Earnshaw came
down stairs, dressed for a journey; after he had told Joseph what was to be done during the day,
he turned to Hindley and Cathy, and me-for I sat eating my porridge with them-and speaking to
his son, he said:
    "Now, I'm going to Liverpool today. What shall I bring you? You may choose what you like;
only small things, for I shall walk there and back; sixty miles each way, that is a long time!"
     Hindley named a fiddle (a kind of violin), and then he asked Miss Cathy. She was hardly six
years old, but she could ride any horse in the stable. She chose a whip(鞭子).He did not forget
me; for he had a kind heart, though he was rather serious sometimes. He promised to bring me
a pocketful of apples and pears. Then he kissed his children good-bye and set off.
     The three days of his absence seemed a long while to us all. Mrs. Earnshaw expected him by
supper-time on the third evening. She put off the meal hour after hour. There were no signs of his
coming, however. About eleven o'clock the door opened and in stepped the master. He threw
himself into a chair, laughing and groaning, and told them all to stand off, for he was nearly killed.
He would never again have another such walk for whatever reasons.
     Opening his great coat, which he held bundled up in his arms, he said: "See here, wife. I was
never so beaten with anything in my life. But you must take it as a gift of God though it's as dark
almost as if it came from the devil."
     We crowded round him. And over Miss Cathy's head, I had a look at a dirty, ragged, black-haired
child-big enough both to walk and talk-yet, when it was set on its feet, it only stared round, and
repeated over and over again some strange words that nobody could understand. I was frightened,
and Mrs. Earnshaw was ready to throw it out of doors. She did get angry, asking why he should have
brought that gipsy child into the house when they had their own kids to feed and look after? What he
meant to do with it?
   The master tried to explain the matter though he was really half dead with tiredness. All that I could
make out, among her scolding, was a story of his seeing it starving, and homeless, and almost dumb
(哑的) in the streets of Liverpool where he picked it up and inquired for its owner. But not a person
knew to whom it belonged. He said that as both his money and time was limited, he thought it better
to take it home with him at once than run into vain expenses there. Anyway he was determined he
would not leave it as he found it.
   Well, finally Mrs. Earnshaw calmed down, and Mr. Earnshaw told me to wash it, give it clean things,
and let it sleep with the children.
   Hindley and Cathy then began searching their father's pockets for the presents he had promised
them. But when Hindley drew out what had been a fiddle, crushed (压坏) to pieces in the great coat,
he cried loudly. And Cathy, when she learned her father had lost her whip in attending on the stranger,
showed her feeling by spitting at the gipsy child, earning herself a sound blow from Mr. Earnshaw to
teach her cleaner manners.
                                                               (Adapted from Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte)

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