One cold day in the early spring of the year, my father, who was a farmer, was ploughing(耕地)．I, eleven years old then, was 　　1　　 the horse．I didn't do the 　　2　　 well as it was rather cold．I thought the task was a little 　　3　　 for me．

　　“Dad,”I said,“　　4　　 must I stay in the field?”“An hour,”he answered．An hour 　　5　　 a long time and I said, “I 　　6　　 if I can go home now．My 　　7　　 aches．”

　　“I'm very sorry,”said my father,“but can't you 　　8　　 till it's time for dinner?”“I think not－my headache is getting 　　9　　．”

　　“Well,” he said, taking me 　　10　　 the horse and suspecting(怀疑)that my disease was rather in my heart than my head,“you may go home．I don't want you to work 　　11　　 you are sick．Go straight home, and tell your mother that I say you must take a large bowl of rhubarb(大黄)．Tell her that I think it will 　　12　　 you a lot of good!”

　　There was no choice．I went home, of course, and I had to offer the 　　13　　 to my mother．I told her that I thought my head was better, 　　14　　 not to take the terrible 　　15　　．But it was of no use and it was too late．She understood my case(情况)as 　　16　　 as my father did．She knew well enough that my disease was 　　17　　．So she prepared a large bowl of rhubarb and I had to swallow all of it．Dear me!How 　　18　　 it was!I am sure I would rather ride the horse all day than be treated 　　19　　 that way．Since then I've never told another 　　20　　．

　　Honesty is the best policy．