44.
The best title for this article would be
________.
A. What Does Intelligence Mean B. On Intelligence
C. We Are Born with Intelligence D.
Environments Play a Part in Developing Intelligence
B
Dr. Park is such a rare traveler to London that when we both
got into the same carriage twice within ten days, I asked him why. I then let
him explain without interruption.
“Last week,” he said, “I was invited to a
doctor’s meeting at the Royal
Hospital. In one of the
wards(病房)a
patient, an old man, got up shakily from his bed and moved towards me. I could
see that he hadn’t long to live, but he came up to me and placed his right foot
close to mine on the floor.
“Frank!” I cried. He couldn’t answer, as I
knew, but he tried to smile, all the time pressing his foot against mine. “ My
thoughts raced back more than thirty years--- to the dark days of 1941, when I
was a student in London.
The scene was an air-raid shelter(防空洞), in which I and about a
hundred other people slept every night. Among them were a Mrs. West and her son
Frank, who lived nearby.
“Sharing wartime problems, we
shelter-dwellers(居住者)got to know each other very
well. Frank West interested me because he wasn’t normal. He had never been
normal, not even at birth. His mother told me he was 37 then, but he had less
of a mind than a baby has. His speech consisted of simple sounds---sounds of
pleasure or anger---and no more. Sometimes he tried to smile but never
succeeded. Mrs. West, then about 75, was a strong, capable woman, as she had to
be of course, because Frank depended on her entirely. He needed all the
attention of a baby.
“One night a policeman came into our shelter
and spoke to Mrs. West. The news he gave her was that her house had been
‘flattened(夷平),’ he said, ‘by a heavy gun.’ That wasn’t
quite true, because the Wests went on living there for quite some time. But
they certainly lost nearly everything they owned.
“When that sort of thing happened, the rest
of us helped the unlucky ones. So before we separated that morning, I
stood beside Frank and measured my right foot against his. They were about the
same size. That night, then, I took a spare pair of shoes to the shelter for
Frank. But as soon as he saw me he came running and placed his right foot
against mine.
“After that, his greeting to me was always
the same. It was the same last week, though he hadn’t seen me for thirty-odd
years. Now he is dead---rather sooner than I expected. He’s being buried today.
That’s why I’m going to London
again.”