I stood still;my whole attention()the movement of her finger.

I stood still, my whole attention ________ upon the motions of her fingers.

A fixing

B to be fixed

C to fix

D fixed

get up. I enclose a certificate from the doctor who fears that it will be another two days before I shall be able to resume my work. Please give an extension of leave for two days. David

awn toward home. I glanced back once. A wafer of a moon was shining over Gatsby's house, making his still glowing garden. A sudden emptiness seemed to flow now from the windows and the great doors, endowing with complete isolation the figure of the lost, who stood on the porch, his stand up in a formal gesture of farewell.

Questions:

1) Name the author and the title of the novel from which this passage is taken.

2) What is the setting of the novel？

3) What implied meaning can you get from reading this passage？

So you think I am an automation？—a machine without feelings？ And can bear to have my morsel of bread snatched form. my lips and my drop of living water dashed from my cup？ Do you think, because I am poor, obscure, plain, and little, I am soulless and heartless？ – You think wrong! – I have as much soul as you—and full as much heart! And if God had gifted me with some beauty, and much wealth, I should have made it as hard for you to leave me, as it is now for me to leave you. I am not talking to you now through the medium of custom, conventionalities, or even of mortal flesh: -- it is my spirit that addresses your spirit; just as if both had passed through the grave, and we stood at God’s feet, equal – as we are!”

1. Identify the author and the title of the novel from which this passage is taken.

2. Who is the narrator and whom is the speaker addressing？

3. Summarize the speaker’s meaning.

The Power of a Good Name

One summer day my father sent me to buy some wire and fencing to put around our barn to pen up the bull. At 16, I liked nothing better than getting behind the wheel of our truck and driving into town on the old mill road. Water from the mill's wheel sprayed in the sunshine making a rainbow over the canal and I often stopped there on my way to bathe and cool off for a spell—natural air conditioning. The sun was so hot, I did not need a towel as I was dry by the time I climbed the clay banks and crossed the road ditch to the truck. Just before town, the road shot along the sea where I would collect seashells or gather seaweed beneath the giant crane unloading the ships. This trip was different, though. My father had told me I'd have to ask for credit at the store.

It was 1976, and the ugly shadow of racism was still a fact of life. I'd seen my friends ask for credit and then stand, head down, while a storeowner enquired into whether they were "good for it". Many store clerks watched black youths with the assumption that they were thieves every time they even went into a grocery.

My family was honest. We paid our debts. But just before harvest, all the money flowed out. There were no new deposits at the bank. Cash was short. At Davis Brothers' General Store, Buck Davis stood behind the register, talking to a middle-aged farmer. Buck was a tall, weathered man in a red hunting shirt and I nodded as I passed him on my way to the hardware section to get a container of nails, a coil of binding wire and fencing. I pulled my purchases up to the counter and placed the nails in the tray of the scale, saying carefully, "I need to put this on credit." My brow was moist with nervous sweat and I wiped it away with the back of my arm.

The farmer gave me an amused, cynical look, but Buck's face didn't change. "Sure," he said easily, reaching for his booklet where he kept records for credit. I gave a sigh of relief. "Your daddy is always good for it." He turned to the farmer. "This here is one of James Williams' sons. They broke the mold when they made that man."

The farmer nodded in a neighborly way. I was filled with pride. "James Williams' son." Those three words had opened a door to an adult's respect and trust.

As I heaved the heavy freight into the bed of the truck, I did so with ease, feeling like a stronger man than the one that left the farm that morning. I had discovered that a good name could furnish a capital of good will of great value. Everyone knew what to expect from a Williams: a decent person who kept his word and respected himself too much to do wrong. My great grandfather may have been sold as a slave at auction, but this was not an excuse to do wrong to others. Instead my father believed the only way to honor him was through hard work and respect for all men.

We children—eight brothers and two sisters--could enjoy our good name, unearned, unless and until we did something to lose it. We had an interest in how one another behaved and our own actions as well, lest we destroy the name my father had created. Our good name was and still is the glue that holds our family tight together.

The desire to honor my father's good name spurred me to become the first in our family to go to university. I worked my way through college as a porter at a four-star hotel. Eventually, that good name provided the initiative to start my own successful public relations firm in Washington, D.C．America needs to restore a sense of shame in its neighborhoods. Doing drugs, spending all your money at the liquor store, stealing, or getting a young woman pregnant with no intent to marry her should induce a deep sense of embarrassment. But it doesn't. Nearly one out of three births in America is to a single mother. Many of these children will grow up without the security and guidance they need to become honorable members of society.

Once the social ties and mutual obligations of the family melt away, communities fall apart. While the population has increased only 40 percent since 1960, violent crime in America has increased a staggering 550 percent —and we've become exceedingly used to it. Teen drug use has also risen. In one North Carolina County, police arrested 73 students from 12 secondary schools for dealing drugs, some of them right in the classroom.

Meanwhile, the small signs of civility and respect that hold up civilization are vanishing from schools, stores and streets. Phrases like "yes, ma'am", "no, sir", "thank you" and "please" get a yawn from kids today who are encouraged instead by cursing on television and in music. They simply shrug off the rewards of a good name.

The good name passed on by my father and maintained to this day by my brothers and sisters and me is worth as much now as ever. Even today, when I stop into Buck Davis' shop or my hometown barbershop for a haircut, I am still greeted as James Williams' son. My family's good name did pave the way for me.

er alcoholics will find their success with the help of my book. About four years ago, I changed my attitude__3__ sobriety. I went from a "program of recovery" to a "program of discovery."__4__I have discovered is that achieving success is a lifelong journey. Someday, I hope and pray that I discover my life was a success! Not measured by possessions,__5__measured by trust and honesty and love.

1.();

A. to try

B. tried

C. trying

D. try

2.();

A. where

B. who

C. which

D. that

3.();

A. in

B. with

C. for

D. by

4.();

A. What

B. Which

C. where

D. when

5.();

A. but rather

B. but also

C. but for

D. but just

Mystery of the White Gardenia

Marsha Aron

Every year on my birthday , from the time I turned 12 , a white gardenia was delivered to my house in Bethesda , Md. No card or note came with it. Calls to the florist were always in vain 一 it was a cash purchase. After a while I stopped trying to discover the sender' s identity and just delighted in the beauty and heady perfume of that´ one magical , perfect flower nestled in soft pick tissue paper.

But I never stopped imagining who the anonymous giver might be. Some of the happiest moments were spent daydreaming about someone wonderful and exciting but too shy or eccentric to make known his or her identity.

My mother contributed to these imaginings. She' d ask me if there was someone for whom I had done a special kindness who might be showing appreciation. Perhaps the

neighbor l' d helped when she was unloading a car full of groceries. Or maybe it was the old man across the street whose mail I retrieved during the winter so he wouldn't have to venture down his icy steps. As a teen-ager , though , i had more fun speculating that it might be a boy i had a crush on or one who had noticed me even though i didn´t know him.

When 1 was 17 , a boy broke my heart. The night he called for the last time , i cried myself to sleep. When i awoke in the morning , there was a message scribbled on my mirror in red lipstick: Heartily know , when half-gods go , the gods arrive. i thought about that

quotation by Emerson for a long time , and until my heart healed , i left it where my mother had written it. When i finally went to get the glass cleaner , my mother knew everything was all right again.

I don' t remember ever slamming my door in anger at her and shouting , "You just don' t understand!" because she did understand.

One month before my high-school graduation , my father died of a heart attack. My feelings ranged from grief to abandonment , fear and overwhelming anger that my dad was missing some of the most important events in my life. I became completely uninterested in my upcoming graduation , the senior class play and the prom. But my mother , in the midst of her own grief , would not hear of my skipping any of those things.

The day before my father died， my mother and i had gone shopping for a prom dress. We found a spectacular one , with yards and yards of doted swiss in red , white and blue , it made me feel like Scarlet 0' Hara ,

but it was the wrong size. When my father died iforgot about the dress.

My mother didn't . The day before the prom , i found that dress 一 in the right size - draped majestically over the living room sofa. It wasn't just delivered , still in the box. It was presented to me - beautifully , artistically , lovingly. i didn' t care if 1 had a new dress or no. But my mother did.

She wanted her children to feel loved and lovable , creative and imaginative , imbued with a sense that there was magic in the world and beauty even in the face of adversity. In truth. my mother wanted her children to see themselves much like the gardenia 一 lovely ，strong ,

and perfect - with an aura of magic and perhaps a bit of mystery.

My mother died ten days after i was married. i was 22. That was the year the gardenias stopped coming.

26. When did the narrator discover the mystery of the white gardenias？ Why was the sender' s identity kept secret？

27. When and how did the father die？ How did the narrator feel at her father' s death？

28. What traits of the mother' s characters are highlighted in the story？ Cite examples from the story to support your answer.

29. What do you think of the title of the story？ What does the gardenia symbolize in the story？

参考答案：

26. The narrator got to know the truth when she was 22. It was her mother who sent her the flowers. She kept it a secret so that the daughter could have the self-knowledge of her own good deeds as she speculated about who the sender might be.

27. The father died of heart attack close to her graduation from high school. She felt sad , disappointed that her father would not experience the important events in her life.

28.a. The mother' s wisdom: She thought of a wise way to encourage kindness in her daughter: to send flowers secretly; or she wisely scribbled a quotation from Emerson on her daughter' s mirror instead of directly talking her teenage daughter into accepting the loss of her boyfriend.

b. Her strength in the face of adversities: she stood strong when her husband died.

29.It is a good / helpful title. The title tickles the reader' s curiosity. OR It' s not a good title. When we are told of the "mystery" in the title , our curiosity is destroyed. The gardenia is the essential symbol in the story , helping to bring about the theme of the story: mother' s love. The gardenia symbolizes the qualities that the mother hoped for her daughter , qualities such as magical (aura of magic , a bit of mystery) , loving , strong , perfect , etc.

up Broadway.Nora noticed a guy sitting inside a cardboard box next to a newsstand.She pulled at my coat sleeve and said, “That man's cold, Daddy.Can we take him home？”

I don't remember my reply, but I do remember a sudden heavy feeling inside me.I had always been delighted at how much my daughter noticed in her world, whether it was birds in flight or children playing.But now she was noticing suffering and poverty.She wasn't even four.

A few days later, I saw an article in the newspaper about volunteers who delivered meals to elderly people.The volunteers went to a nearby school on a Sunday morning, picked up a food package, and delivered it to an elderly person.I signed us up.Nora was excited about it.She could understand the importance of food, so she could easily see how valuable our job was.When Sunday came, we picked up the package and phoned the elderly person we'd been assigned.She invited us right over.

The building was depressing.When the door opened, facing us was a silver-haired woman in an old dress.She took the package and asked if we would like to come in.Nora ran inside.I reluctantly followed.Our hostess showed us some photos of her family.Nora played and laughed.I accepted a second cup of tea.When it came time to say good-bye, we three stood in the doorway and hugged.I walked home in tears.

Where else but as volunteers do you have the opportunity to do something enjoyable that's good for yourself as well as for others？ Indeed, the poverty my daughter and I helped lessen that Sunday afternoon was not the woman's alone — it was in our lives, too.Now Nora and I regularly serve meals to needy people and collect clothes for the homeless.Yet, as I've watched her grow over these past four years, I still wonder — which of us has benefited more？

26.The man Nora noticed on that evening was probably ______.

A.asking for food

B.one of those homeless

C.taken home by the author

D.buying a newspaper

27.The author had a sudden heavy feeling (Para.2), because ______.

A.his daughter had noticed the dark side of life

B.he did not want to take the guy home

C.he felt a deep sympathy for the guy

D.his daughter was afraid of what she saw

28.Their volunteer job was to ______.

A.visit poor homes

B.serve meals at a nearby school

C.pick up packages for poor, elderly people

D.deliver food to needy, elderly people

29.The word “us” in the last paragraph refers to ______ .

A.the author and the old woman

B.the giver and receiver of the help

C.the author and his daughter

D.the author and the guy in the box

30.The best title for this passage might be “______.”

A.A Loving Kid

B.A Lesson in Caring

C.Volunteers at Work

D.How to Help the Needy

Passage Three

My husband and children feel very happy to live here. They can't see that we live on a dirty street in a dirty house among people who aren't good. They can't see that our neighbors have to make happiness out of all this dirt. I decided that my children must get out of this. The money that we've saved isn't nearly enough.

The McGaritys have money but they are so proud. They look down upon the poor The McGarity girl just yesterday stood out there in the street eating from a bag of candy while a ring of hungry children watched her. I saw those children looking at her and crying in their hearts; and when she couldn't eat any more she threw the rest down the sewer (下水道). Why？ Is it only because they have money？ There is more to happiness than money in the world, isn't there？

Miss Jackson who teaches at the Settlement House isn't rich, but she knows things. She understands people. Her eyes look straight into yours when she talks with you. She can read your mind. I'd like to see the children will be like Miss Jackson when they grow up.

44. This passage suggests that the writer______.

A. is easy to get along with

B. is never pleased with her neighbors

C. is unhappy with the life they are living

D. is good at observing and understanding people