51. What moral lesson can we draw from this reading?

A. Real love lies in what is done unknown rather than what is done known.

B. It is up to parents to help their children heart and soul.

C. True beauty lies only in the heart not in appearance.

D. It is a virtue(美德)for young generations to learn to be grateful.

E

“A good book for children should simply be a good book in its own right,” says Mollie Hunter. Born and brought up near Edinburgh, Mollie has devoted her talents to writing primarily for young people. She firmly believes that there is always and should always be a wider audience for any good book whatever its main market is. In Mollie's opinion it is necessary to make full use of language and she enjoys telling a story, which is what every writer should be doing. “If you aren't telling a story, you're a very dead writer indeed,” she says. With the chief function of a writer being to entertain, Mollie is indeed an entertainer. “I have this great love of not only the meaning of language but of the music of language,” she says. “This love goes back to early childhood. I've told stories all my life. I had a school teacher who used to ask us what we would like to be when we grew up and, because my family always had dogs, and I was very good at handling them, I said I wanted to work with dogs, and the teacher always said ‘Nonsense, Mollie, dear, you’ll be a writer.’ So finally I thought that this woman must have something, since she was a good teacher and I decided when I was nine that I would be a writer.”

This childhood intention is described in her novel, A Sound of Chariots, which although written in the third person is clearly autobiographical and gives a picture both of Mollie's ambition and her struggle towards its achievement. Thoughts of her childhood inevitably(不可避免地)brought thoughts of the time when her home was still a village with buttercup meadows and strawberry fields-sadly now covered with modern houses.“I was once taken back to see it and I felt that somebody had lain dirty hands all over my childhood. I'll never go back,”she said. “Never.”“When I set one of my books in Scotland,” she said, “I can recall my romantic(浪漫的)feelings as a child playing in those fields, or watching the village blacksmith at work. And that's important, because children now know so much so early that romance can't exist for them, as it did for us.”

46. In the third paragraph the word "moat "probably means_____.

A. a high tower built in former times where soldiers watched out for enemies

B. a long and deep ditch dug round a castle and was usually filled with water

C. a cart pulled by horses on which soldiers fought

D. a long and high wall around castle

D

“Can I see my baby?” asked the happy new mother. The bundle(婴儿包)was placed in her arms and when she moved the fold of cloth to look upon his tiny face, she gasped-the baby had been born without ears. Time, however, proved that the baby’s hearing was perfect except his appearance.

One day when he rushed home from school and threw himself into his mother’s arms, he cried out bitterly, “A boy, a big boy … called me-a f-…freak.” She sighed, knowing that his life was to be endless of heartbreaks.

He grew up, handsome for his misfortune. A favorite with his fellow students, he might have been class president, but for that. He developed a gift for literature and music.

The boy’s father had a talk with the family doctor. Could nothing be done? “I believe we could graft(移植)on a pair of outer ears, if they could be donated(捐献),” the doctor decided. So the search began for a person who would make such a sacrifice for a young man. Two years went by. Then, “You’re going to the hospital, son. Mother and I have someone who will donate the ears you need. But it’s a secret.” said the father.

The operation was a brilliant success. His talents blossomed into genius. School and college became a series of successes. Later he married and entered the diplomatic(外交)service. “But I must know!” he urged his father. “Who gave so much for me? I could never do enough for him.”

“I do not believe you could,” said the father, “but the agreement was that you are not to know … not yet.” The years kept the secret, but the day did come … one of the darkest days that ever pass through a son. He stood with his father over his mother’s casket(棺材). Slowly and tenderly, the father stretched forth a hand and raised the thick, reddish-brown hair to let out the secret.

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