阅读理解

　　Britain’s oldest man made his first visit to London yesterday at the age of 101．Mr John Evans, who spent 60 years working as a miner in South Wales, had never found the time or money to make the trip from his home in Forest–fach, near Swansea．“There was a trip to the White City, but it was ten shillings’ return from Swansea－too much I thought．All my money went to the family then,” he said．But when British Rail offered him an all–expense–paid birthday gift to the capital, he just could not refuse．

　　He arrived at Paddington Station in his best suit, favorite Panama hat and a red rose in his buttonhole．“It’s very exciting．There’s no doubt about it,” he said．

　　Until yesterday he had never been far from home．“But I’ve been on the seas to that faraway land called Fracombe 21 miles from home,” he joked．During the next two days Mr Evans will be taken on a short tour of London to see the sights．Top of his list is a visit to the House of Parliament．

　　The only arrangement he does not like is the wheelchair provided for him if he gets tired．“I don’t like the chair－people will think I am getting old,” he said．His secret for a long and healthy life has been well publicized－no wine, no tobacco and no anger．

　　Before setting off from Swansea with his 76–year–old son, he said jokingly, “I’m glad to see they’ve given me a return ticket．”

阅读理解

　　Though I have traveled in hundreds of trains, few unusual things have ever happened to me．But one day in a train something did happen．I do not mean that I was hurt：no one was hurt．

　　I do my work in a hot country far away from England．Every September I go there to do my business, and every July I come back to England to have a rest．So every September I go to Paris and take a train from the great French city to Mendova, and at Mendova I catch my ship．

　　There is one very fast train from Paris to Mendova, and it suits me well．It goes as far as Endoran, but it stops at Mendova for a few minutes to let travelers get out or in．It is called The Flying Bluebird．It reaches Mendova at seven minutes past nine in the morning, and it is never late．

　　A ship leaves Mendova at half past eleven, and so you will understand that The Flying Bluebird suits me very well．I always travel by it, and I have nearly two and a half hours at Mendova to go from the station to the ship．That is more than enough time．

　　Well, one September night, I took my place in The Flying Bluebird as usual．The train leaves Paris at nine o’clock every night, and I was in my place soon after half past eight．There were three or four people there with me, but very soon a lot of others got into the train．When no more people could sit down, they began to stand up near us and also in the corridor(走廊)．In a short time the corridor was full too, and it was impossible for any more travelers to get into the train．

　　I could see a lot of other people outside the corridor windows, but they could not get in, and the train left Paris without them．The man sitting next to me started to ask all kinds of questions：“Where do you work? How long does it take you to get there? Are you married? How many children do you have? How much money do they pay you every year? How much do you have in the bank? How much do you spend every month?”

　　He asked questions for about twenty minutes but I did not give him any clear answers, and at last he stopped and began to read the paper．

　　I usually sleep quite well in the train, but this time I slept only a little．There were too many people, and there were too many things：small bags, large bags, coats, hats, boxes, newspapers and food．As usual, we got angry about the window．Most people wanted it shut, and two of us wanted it open．But that always happens．It was shut all night, as usual．

　　When I awoke in the early morning I felt hot and dirty, and glad that the journey was reaching its end．At seven minutes past nine The Flying Bluebird stopped．We were at Mendova, and I stood up thankfully．I took my two suitcases, held one in each hand, and tried to move towards the door into the corridor．In order to get out of the train, I had to pass down the corridor to the door at the far end．There was no other way out．

　　I could not even into the corridor．There was a suitcase on the floor by my feet, and three men were standing in my way．I felt a touch of fear．I had to get out, you see; I had to catch my ship, which left at half past eleven．And the train did not stop again until it reached Endoran, two hundred miles away．

　　“I must get out!” I cried．Everyone there understood me, but no one could move．

　　At last I was able to put one foot over the suitcase on the floor, and I nearly reached the door into the corridor．But then, very slowly, the train began to move．It was taking me away!

　　“Stop!” I cried．“I want to get out!” But no one outside the train could hear me, and the people inside did not care much．The train moved a little faster．What could I do? I was not even in the corridor．

　　Fear made me think quickly．In front of my eyes, just, above the door, was a notice that told everyone how to stop the train．I had to pull an iron thing near the notice．I did not waste time．I pulled it．

　　Well, a noise started above our heads．That was to show everyone that there was something wrong．It was not a small sound．Possibly the men in my ship two miles away could hear it．Then the train stopped．

　　No one likes to stop a train if there is no need．But I had to catch my ship．That was the only thought in my mind：to get out and catch my ship．

阅读理解

　　Britain's oldest man made his first visit to London yesterday at the age of 101．Mr．John Evans had never found the time or money to make the trip from his home in Forestfach, near Swansea．But, when British Rail offered him an all-expense-paid birthday treat to the capital he just could not refuse．

　　He arrived at Paddington Station and smartly turned out in his best suit, favorite Panama hat and a red rose in his buttonhole．“It's very exciting．There's no doubt about it,” he said．

　　Until yesterday he had never been far from home, except for one trip to Aberdeen．“But I've been on the seas to that faraway land called Ilfracombe 21 miles from home,” he joked．

　　Mr．Evans, who spent 60 years working as a miner in South Wales, almost made the journey to London once before, at the turn of the century．“There was a trip to the White City but it was ten shillings return from Swansea－too much I thought．All my money went to the family then,” he said．

　　During the next two days Mr．Evans will be taken on a short tour of London to see the sights．Top of his list is a visit to the House of Parliament organized by his MP, Mr Gareth Wardell．

　　The only arrangement he does not care for is the wheelchair provided for him if he gets tired．“I don't like the chair－people will think I am getting old,” he said．His secret for a long and healthy life has been well publicized－no wine, no tobacco and no anger．

　　Before setting off from Swansea with his 76-year-old son, Amwell, he said jokingly, “I'm glad to see they've given me a return ticket．”