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1984年版高中英语课本第三册文本



第三册

LESSON 1 PERSEVERANCE

毅力

  Many years ago I stepped into a bookstore in Cincinnati in search of some books that I anted. While I was there,a poor little boy,not over twelve years of age,came in to ask whether they had geographies to sell.

  "Plenty of them ,"was the salesman's reply.

  "How much do they cost?"

  "One dollar,my lad."

  "I didn't know they cost so much."

  He turned to go out and even opened the door,but closed it again and came back."I have only sixty-two cents,"he said."Will you let me have the book and wait a little while for the rest of the money?"

  How eagerly the lad looked for an answer,and how disappointed he seemed when the man refused him his request!The little fellow looked up at me with a weak smile,and left the store.I followed him.

  "And what now?"I asked.

  "I shall try another place,sir."

  "Do you mind if I go too and see how you succeed?"

  "If you like,"he said in surprise.

  Four different stores I entered with him,and four times I saw the boy's face turn to disappointment.

  "Are you going to try again?"I asked.

  "Yes,sir.I shall try them all,or I shall not know whether I could get one."

  We entered the fifth store and the little fellow walked straight up and told the gentleman just what he wanted and how much money he had.

  "Do you want the book very much?"asked the bookseller.

  "Yes,sir,very much."

  "Why do you want it so much?"

  "To study,sir.I cannot go to school,but when I have time I study at home.All the boys have geographies and they will be ahead of me if I do not get one.Besides,my father was a sailor,and I want to know about the places he used to go to."

  "Does he go to those places now?"

  "He is dead,"replied the boy,softly.In a moment he added,"I'm going to be a sailor,too."

  "Are you,my boy?"aksed the gentleman,raising his eyebrows curiously.

  "Yes,sir,if I live."

  "Well,my lad,I'll tell you what I will do.I'll let you have the new geography and you may pay me the remainder of the money when you can,or I will let you have one that is not new for fifty cents."

  "Are the leaves all in it and is it just like the others,only not new?"

  "Yes,it's as good as the new ones."

  "It'll do just as well then,and I shall have twelve cents left to buy some other book.I'm glad they didn't let me have one at any of the other places."

  At the boy's last remark the bookseller looked at him.What did the boy mean?I told him what I had seen and heard at the five other places.When the boy had bought the book,the bookseller gave him a nice new pencil and some clean white paper.

  "A present,my lad,for your perseverance.Always have courage like that and you will make your mark,"said the bookseller.

  "Thank you,sir,it's very kind of you."

  "What is your name,my lad?"

  "William Hartley,sir."

  "Do you want any more books?"I now asked,earnestly regarding the boy's serious face.

  "More than I can even get,"he replied.

  I gave him two dollars."The money will buy some for you,"I said.

  Tears of joy came into his eyes.

  "May I buy what I want with it?"

  "Yes,my lad,whatever you want."

  "Then I'll buy a book for Mother,"he said."I thank you very much,and some day I hope I can repay you."

  He asked my name and I gave it to him.Then I left him standing by the counter so happy that I almost envied him.

  Many years later,I was going to Europe on one of the finest ships that ever ploughed the waters of the Atlantic.We had pleasant weather the greater part of the voyage,but toward the end there came a terrible storm and the ship would have sunk with all on board had it not been for the captain.

  A great leak was filling the ship with water.The crew was made up of strong and able men and the mates were experienced seamen of the first class.But after pumping for one whole night with the water still gaining upon them,the sailors gave up in despair.

  The captain,who had been below,now came up.He saw how matters stood.

  He ordered every man to his position.It was surprising to see those strong men bow before his strong will and hurry back to the pumps.The captain then started below to look for the leak.As he passed me I asked him whether there was any hope of saving the ship.

  He looked at me."Yes,sir,"he said,"so long as one inch of this deck remains above water, there is hope.Only when that fails shall I leave the ship,but not before that,nor shall any of my crew.Everything shall be done to save the ship,and if we fail,it will not be our fault."Then he turned to all of us passengers on board and said,"Every one of you,at the pumps!"

  Three times during that day we gave up in despair.But the captain's courage,perseverance,and powerful will mastered every man on board,and we went to work again."I will land you safe in Liverpool,"he said,"if you will be men."

  And in the end he did land us safe,but the ship sank soon after she reached Liverpool.The captain stood on the deck of the sinking ship receiving the thanks of the passengers as they hurried off the ship.

  As I passed,he grasped my hand and said,"Sir,do you not recognize me?"I told him that I did not.

  "Do you remember the boy whom you followed when he had so much difficulty in getting a geography,some thirty years ago,in Cincinnati?"

  "Why yes,I remember that boy very well.His name was William Hartley."

  "I am William Hartley,"said the captain."God bless you!"

  "And may God bless you too,Captain Hartley,"I said."The perseverance that thirty years ago got you that geography has today saved our lives."

LESSON 2 A GERMAN STAMP

一张德国邮票

    Mr Amory, a businessman

    Mallet, his manservant

    Mr Ramsay, a visitor to the house

  The sitting-room of Amory's house in London. It is a few minutes past seven o'clock on a cold October evening in 1946. Amory is standing with his back to the fire. Mallet is busy with glasses and drinks which are standing on a table near one of the walls.

Amory: We'll have dinner at eight o'clock, Mallet. Please, tell your wife.

Mallet: Yes, sir.

Amory: Your wife is sometimes a little late with the dinner, Mallet.

Mallet: I'm sorry, sir. She didn't work before the war. I wasn't a servant before I met you in the war, and my wife stayed at home and took care of me. When my dinner was late, it didn't matter much.

Amory (taking a stamp from a small table): Look at this, Mallet. Can you see anything unusual about it?

Mallet: It's astamp, sir. Is it unusual?

Amory: Very. Look at the head on it.

Mallet: Yes, sir. The head's upside down. That is rather unusual, isn't it?

Amory: It certainly is. Have you ever seen a stamp like this in your life?

Mallet: No, sir, never. Where did you get it?

Amory: At the post office. I was posting thirteen letters and I bought stamps for them. Twelve of the stamps were of the usual kind. This was the thirteenth. I was just putting it on the envelope when I noticed the head. So I kept it.

Mallet: Very wise, I'm sure, sir.

Amory: Yes. Some people will pay a lot of money for a stamp like this. Perhaps Mr Ramsay will.

Mallet: Is he the gentleman who's coming to dinner tonight, sir?

Amory: He is.

Mallet: Does he know that you have the stamp,sir?

Amory: Yes. I wrote him about it. He may give me two or three hundred pounds for this stamp. He's a rich man and he has a lot of strange stamps. So tell your wife to have dinner ready at eight o'clock. Mr Ramsay will be here soon. He's coming from Scotland, and he's on his way to Dover. He'll want a good dinner after his long journey.

Mallet: I'll tell my wife, sir.

  (The sound of a taxi is heard outside the house.)

Amory: Here he is now. Rather early. Go and bring him in, and then be ready to give us drinks..

Mallet(going out of the room): Yes, sir.

  (Amory moves one of the chairs nearer to the fire and puts a small table near it. Mallet returns with Ramsay.)

Amory: Mr Ramsay, sir. (Mallet goes to the drinks.)

Amory: Good evening, Ramsay. I'm very glad to see you. Come in and sit down.

Ramsay: Good evening, Amory. Thanks. (Sits down.)

Amory: Did you have a good journey? Will you have a drink?

Ramsay: Thanks. I need one. I'm glad to be out of that taxi alive.

(Mallet brings two drinks and gives them to Ramsay and Amory.)

Ramsay: Thanks.

Amory: Thank you, Mallet. (He speaks to Ramsay.)

  What happened in your taxi?

  (Mallet goes out of the room.)

Ramsay: The driver nearly killed me. He drove too fast. We nearly killed a man who was crossing the street. I told the driver to drive slowly, but he wouldn't listen.

Amory: I'm surprised. Most of our London taxi-drivers are very careful. They're good drivers usually.

Ramsay: Yes, nearly always. But not quite always.

  (Mallet returns and stands by the drinks.)

Amory: I've always found them safe enough.

Ramsay: Yes, they're often too slow for me. But once before I was driven too fast. It was many years ago. About 1939, I believe.

Amory: That's a long time ago. Why do you remember it after so many years?

Ramsay: Because I lost something. It was allvery strange; very strange. I reached Victoria station and ran out to find a taxi. I wanted to go to King's Cross station to catch a train.

Amory: The other side of London.

Ramsay: Yes. I hadn't much time and the driver started off at once and drove much too fast. I said nothing at first because I wanted to catch that train. But the man drove very badly, and he wasn't going the right way. T got angry.

Amory: Perhaps he knew a better way to King's Cross.

Amory: I don't think so. He drove along a lot of small ateets that I didn't know at all. He went faster and faster. It wasn't safe. I asked him to go the right way to the station, but he didn't listen to me. He seemed to be in a very strange state of mind. He just went on ang on. I was lost. I didn't remember any of the streets.

Amory: London taxi-drivers know all the small streets. Some time they use them to save time. The bigger streets are full of cars. Mallet, Mr Ramsay wants another drink, please.

Mallet(taking Ramsay's glass): Yes, sir.

Ramsay: Thanks. My driver took me far out of my way. Then, in a small street, he stopped the taxi and looked out of his window. I told him to go on. I didn't want ot miss my train. But he got out.

  (Mallet drops Ramsay's glass on the floor.)

Amory(looking round at Mallet): Must you do things like that, Mallet? Bring Mr Ramsay another glass.

Mallet:(quietly) Yes, sir. I'm sorry.

Ramsay: The taxi-driver left me in the taxi and ran into a doorway near a shop.

  (Mallet listens with a troubled face.)

Amory(surprised): Left you in the taxi?

Ramsay: Yes, he did just that. I got out to look for another taxi, but of course there weren't any there. The driver was away for about two minutes and then he came out of the doorway again. I got back into the taxi, but the driver ran into the shop. I waited. What else could I do? But then he came back to the taxi. (Mallet gives Ramsay a drink.) Thanks.

  (Mallet goes out of the room.)

Amory: Where has that man gone now? What happened next?

Ramsay: The driver took me as fast as he could to the King's Cross station.

Amory: Did you catch that train?

Ramsay: Yes, I just caught it. I've often wanted to meet that driver again. I lost a stamp that day. Perhaps I left it in the taxi.

Amory: What kind of stamp?

Ramsay: It was a German stamp and it was still on its envelope. The postmark was clear. The date was clear too: July 1st. Those stamps were sold for the first time on July 1st, and so I was very sorry to lose that envelope. I've often tried to find another like it, but there aren't many in the world. The German post offices didn't sell any more stamps like that after about a week. There was somthing wrong with the name of the country on them.

Amory: How did you get the stamp?

Ramsay: I bought it. It cost quite a lot of money. And now those atamps cost even more.

  (Mallet returns with an envelope in his hand. He gives it to Ramsay.)

Mallet: Is this yours, sir?

Ramsay(looking at the envelope): Mine? Oh, look at this! Well, well, well! Where did you get this? Yes, it's mine. It's the lost stamp. I can't believe it. How did you get it? The same envelope! The same German writing! Who gave you this?

Mallet(quitely): You left it in the taxi, sir. I was the taxi-driver.

Amory and Ramsay(together): You?!

Mallet: Yes, sir. I drove a taxi before the war.

Amory: Do you mean that you are the driver who left Mr Ramsay in a taxi and ran into a shop?

Mallet(in a low voice): Yes, sir.

Amory: But why did you do that? Tell us, man. There must be a reason. Taxi-drivers don't usually do things like that.

Mallet: My wife was ill, sir. She was in bed and she was alone.

Amory: Why didn't you stay with her?

Mallet: I had to get some money, sir, with my taxi. We needed money. I went to Victoria station and Mr Ramsay got into my taxi. I didn't know him then, of course. He wanted to go to King's Cross. I took him along those small streets so that I could see my wife's bedroom window.

Ramsay: Why?

Mallet: She was alone n her room, in bed. When she wanted me, she turned her light on. When it wasn't turned on, she wasn't very ill. That was our plan, sir.

Ramsay: I see. And on that day ...

Mallet: When I stopped the taxi on that day and looked up at the window of her room. I saw the light. It was turned on, sir. You could just see it from the side of the street.

Amory: So you knew she needed help.

Mallet: Yes, sir. I ran into the house to see her. She was very bad. I thought that she was dying.

Ramsay: But after you came back, you ran into the shop. Why did you do that?

Mallet: There was a telephone in the shop. I telephoned to the doctor. Then I ran back to the taxi and took you to the King's Cross.

Ramsay: I see; I see. Yes, I understood now. But I was rather angry at the time. I said a lot of unkind things to you. I'm sorry.

Mallet: It didn't matter, sir. You wanted to catch your train and you didn't know about my wife's illness.

Ramsay: Well, I'm very glad to have this stamp again. Thank you very much. Why did you keep it?

Mallet: I knew it was yours,sir, but I didn't know your name or your address. The address on the envelpoe isn't English. It's a place in Germany. Once I nearly posted it to Germany, but, to tell you the truth, I didn't want to spend money on a stamp. Then the war started and I went to fight. When I came home again last year, I found the envelope in a book. I never did anything more about it. But when I heard your story, sir, I rememberd it; and there it is.

Ramsay: Well, I'm very glad. Thank you very much again. I'm glad I came to see you, Amory. This is a great day for me. Did your wife get better, Mallet?

Mallet: Yes, thank you, sir. She got better, but the doctor was glad that I.telephoned. She's getting your dinner ready now. It's five minutes to eight. I'll serve dinner in five minutes, sir. (He goes out.)

LESSON 3 ON READING

谈读书

                           The Authors' Club

                           London, S.W.1

                           2nd January, 19__

Dear Fransisco,

  I'm glad to know you enjoyed the books I sent you for Christmas. Your letter of thanks was very well written and I congratulate you on being able to write so well.

  You ask me for advice on reading. That's a very difficult request. I always hesitate to advise my friends on what to read. How can I possibly know what will interest other people? And you don't say in your letter what you want to read.

  What you do say is that you're very fond of reading, and I'm delighted by that. Do you know the essays of Francis Bacon, who lived about the same time as Shakespeare? They're full of good advice about reading. Here's a bit from the essay "Of Studies".

  "Some books are to be tasted, others to be swallowed, and some few to be chewed and digested. "

  I can't give you better advice than that. It tells you how to read books of different kinds. I suppose most travel books are to be "tasted"; it's enough to dip into them and read bits here and there. If you're fond of stories, you will, if you're like me, read them quickly; you'll "swallow" them. And then there are books that you'll read slowly and carefully. If a book's on an important subject and a subject you're interested in, you'll want to "chew and digest" it.

  If the book's in English, that may mean slow progress for oyu. But I don't advise you to read too slowly. When I was living in Tokyo many years ago, I used to go to the second-hand bookshops. They were full of English books. The first twenty or thirty pages of many of them had their margins filled with penciled notes and there were dozens of words and phrases underlined. The owners, probably earnest students, had started out very seriously, determined to master the books. Then, as I turned the pages over, I found clean white margins, with not a single note. It was clear that the reader had given up in despair.

  I suppose that's a common experience in many countries with books in a foreign language. The reader starts out, full of hope and determination. Then, the need to turn to a dictionary or a reference book, perhaps ten or even twenty times a gage, tires him out.

  There are two or three answers to this problem. The first is: Don't start reading a book unless you see, from the first few pages, that it's one you can read with ease and understanding. Don't try to run before you can walk. There are plenty of books that have been rewritten in simple language - and shortened too, if necessary.

  My second answer to this question of diffcult vocabulary is, I think, a much better one. Don't stop every time you come to a word or phrase you don't know. Read the whole chapter quickly. Quite often you'll find the unknown word comes again, perhaps several times, and by the end of the chapter you've have guessed its meaning. That's how we learn the meaning of words in our own language, isn't it? When we're children, I mean. When I'm telling a story to children, they seldom stop to ask what a word means. Even when they read, they don't turn to the dictionary every time they see an unknown word.

  Read a chapter quickly, and then go back and read it more slowly. This time, use your reference books when necessary. But try to judge what is worth looking up and what is not.

  You'll tell me it's diffcult, very often, for oyu to judge whether an unknown word is important or not. I agree that this is often true. But it's not always difficult. You're going to be an architect, so words used in architecture are important to you. If they're new to you, you'll look them up. But the reader is not interested in architecture, he could pass them by.They're not always necessary for his enjoyment of the book.

  When I read my Times these days I often find articles about the uses of atomic energy. There are sometimes words Idon't know - and some of them are so new that they're not yet in the dictionaries. But I'm slowly beginning to understand what some of the words mean - simply by meeting them so often.

  Well, that's my advice to you. I hope you'll find it helpful. It isn't perfect, I know. There will be times when, if you decide not to look up a reference, you'll miss something that may be important.

  But I feel I'm right in advising you not to be too thorough in your use of reference books - except when you're studying you own special subjuct. If you're too thorough, you'll lose heart and perhaps give up.

  Good luck to you in you reading. Do read again, and if you think I can help you any way, please don't hesitate to ask.

                          Yours ever,     

                            John Churchman

LESSON 4 THREE GOLD MEDALS FOR WILMA

威尔玛的三枚金牌

  The stands were packed. People from all over the world were watching the greatest sports show of all - the Olympic Games.

  The next race was the woemn's relay race, and it promised to be an exciting one. Teams from six countries were entered. The winning team would be champions of the world.

  The crowd became silent as the teams took their places. Many eyes turned to a tall, 20-year-old black girl on the U.S. team. She was Wilma Rudolph, the fourth and the last runner for the United States.

  At the sound of the gun, the first runners shot from their starting points. Relay sticks in their hands, they raced to the second runners. The second runners, already moving, grabbed the sticks and raced on. Now the third runners had the sticks. And the runners for the U.S. team was in the lead! She dashed toward Wilma. Already running, Wilma reached for the stick. But her teammate almost dropped it. Wilma had to stop to get a good hold on the stick.

  That moment's stop cost the U.S. its lead. A girl of the German team was flying two steps ahead of Wilma. Wilma urged herself "Faster! Faster!" Bit by bit she closed the gap. She caught up with the German girl. Then she pulled ahead. At the finishing line Wilma breasted the tape. She and her teammates had taken first place!

  It was a wonderful victory, even more wonderful than you might think. For Wilma hadn't even been able to walk for one third pf her life!

  Wilma Rudolph was the youngest child in a big family. Both parents worked in order to have enough money to raise the children. The older boys and girls were healthy, but Wilma was sick most of the time. She was barely walking at the age of four. Then she became seriously ill and for weeks was near death. She managed to pull through, but she couldn't move her left leg. It appeared that the little girl would probably never walk.

  But Wilma's mother was determined to give her a chance. She wrapped Wilma on a blanket and took her by bus to a hospital 45 miles away. The doctors give the little girl all kinds of tests. Finally they said that rubbing the little girl's leg might help. But she would have to be treated every day..And it might take years!

  "I can't bring her here every day," Wilma's mother said. "Can you teach me?"

  The doctors showed Mrs Rudolph what to do. "But you'll still have to bring her here to the hospital once a week, "they said.

  Wilma's mother followed the doctors' orders. Every day after supper she rubbed Wilma's leg. She rubbed and eubbed until long after Wilma had fallen asleep. And on her day off once a week, she and Wilma made the 90-mile round trip to the hospital.

  'After a year the doctors said, "We think the leg is better, but it's hard to tell."

  That night Mrs Rudolph taught her three older children how to rub Wilma's leg. From then on, Wilma's leg got treated four times a day. "She's going to walk," Mrs Rudolph said.

  In another year, Wilma could manage a sort of hop. And at the age of eight she was walking a bit with the aid of a leg brace. That summer the doctors changed the brace for a special heavy shoe. In the fall, Wilma limped off to school.

  Wilma's brother Wesley liked to play basketball. He had put up a basket on a pole in the back yard. To the family's surprise, Wilma was soon out in the yard - playing basketball. If the heavey shoe bothered her, she didn't seem to show it. When the other children stopped to rest, she kept on shooting baskets. "She's making up for the playing she missed," Wilma's mother said.

  One day Wilma's mother went to the door to call everybody in for supper. She stopped in surprise. She couldn't believe it. Wilma was bouncing the ball around under the basket. And she was barefoot. She no longer needed the shoe!

  Wilma more than made up for the playing she missed. In high school she became a track star. In college she won a national championship in the dashes.

  Then came the tryouts for the Olympic Games. Wilma won the 100- and 200-meter dashes. She and her college teammates also tried out for the relay race. They won, which meant they would run for the United States.

  How Wilma helped win the relay for the U.S. team in the Plympics is well known. But that wasn't all. She also won the 100- and 200-meter dashes, and in the 100-meter dash she had set a new world record. Wilma became the first American woman to win three Olympic gold medals in track!

  What a wonderful victory for Wilma! And what a wonderful victory for Wilma's mother!

LESSON 5 THE SNAKE IN THE SLEEPING BAG

睡袋里的蛇

  It was morning. I finished my breakfast and waited for the rest of the team. It was going to be another hot day in the jungle. The heat took the strength out of us. But we had a job to do. I was the head engineer. It was up to me to get the four of us moving.

  Vargas and our Indian guide joined me. But Al wasn't up yet. I went to wake him up.

  On the way to his sleeping bag. I called, "Al, wake up!" Al didn't move. Then, when I was almost up to him, I saw his eyes. They were open - and rolling wildly. His face was as gray as ashes.

  I stopped. Al's eyws warned me. then his lips moved. I crawled close and heard his whisper. "Snake!"

  My eyes followed Al's--down to the lump over his stomach. My blood froze. A snake was in Al'a sleeping bag.

  Another sound from me and the snake might strike. I inched backwaod. Then I turned and tiptoed toward the Indian and Vargas and in a whisper told them what I had seen. We stared at one another, not daring to speak out loud.

  "It's our own fault," I thought bitterly. "We should have cut away the jungle brush. There's always a chance of a snake hiding there." But we had talked it over and decided we should be safe on the top of the hill. How wrong we were!

  The three of us tiptoed toward Al. We stared silently at the lump the snake made in the bag. From its shape, it could be a bushmaster - the most deadly snake of all!

  Vargas reached for his gun. But Al's eyes rolled from left to right. that meant "No." And I knew why. How could we know where the snake's head was? And if Vargas's shot missed the head, the snake would strike at Al. We didin't dare try a shot.

  Suddenly the Indian spoke, "Smoke!" It was just one word, but it broke the silence like a shot. And the snake moved! We held our breath. Slowly the snakle settled itself again. Quitely we moved away.

  Then the Indian showed us what he meant. He acted as if he were smoking. Then he cupped his hands. He puffed breath in and out. On the ground, he drew a sleeping bag. He got out his knife and acted out cutting into the bag.

  Vargas and I got the idea. Cut a hole in Al's sleeping bag. Smoke out the snake! Yes, it might work. Vargas and I nodded.

  The Indian began tearing up damp grass. He piled it up near our breakfast fire. Vargas emptied his tool bag and left the bag with the Indian. Then Vargas and crawled back to Al.

  I studied the part of the sleeping bag around Al's feet. Then quietly but quickly my knife cut into the bag, making a hole the size of an orange. Vargas waved, and the Indian brought me the tool bag filled with smoke. We were ready to rush away when the snake moved. If it atsrted out and sensed that we were near, it might strike Al.

  I put the smoke bag to the hole in the sleeping bag. Soon smoke curled around Al's face. Tears came to his eyes. Suddenly the snake twisted. The smoke was doing its work!

  We dashed away. But now the smoke was gone. The snake settled back on Al's stomach.

  What were we going to do now?

  The sun was now high in the sky. Al's face was washed in sweat. I know how hot that sleeping bag could be. I looked at the rain cover above the sleeping bag. At least it gave Al shade.

  Suddenly I remembered something Al had told me. "Snakes are cold-blooded," he said. "Their body heat changes with the air around them. They can heat up fast. A half hour in the hot jungle sun will kill them. "

  I knew what we had to do. Excitedly, I acted it out for the others. Remove the rain cover and let the sun heat the sleeping bag. That would drive the snake out. Al spoke with his eyes, "Yes!"

  We took the rain cover away. The sun heat down on Al and the bag. He looked half dead, his eyes closed tight. The heat was like fire. Could Al hold out? "Just a little longer," I prayed. The Indian and Vargas were praying too.

  The snake made a small move. The sun was doing its work! Quickly we slid into the brush and then watched.

  The snake twisted, humped up, then became flat. Then it moved up slowly toward the open end of the sleeping bag. A heavy, evil head appeared, right next to Al's face. The snake was a bushmaster - a deadly bushmaster!

  The head turned this way and that. Then the ugly brown body poured itself through the neck of the sleeping bag. It slid past Al's face and moved toward a nearby bush.

  Vargas pulled out his gun. Crack! The snake was blown to pieces.

LESSON 6 MY TEACHER

我的老师(选自海伦·凯勒《我的一生》)

  Before Anne Sullivan came to our house, one or two people had told my mother that I was an idiot. I can understand why. Here was a seven-year-old girl who at the age of 19 months had become deaf and blind. And because I was deaf, I could not learn to speak. Struggling in a world of silence and darkness, I did seem like an idiot.

  But this was before Annie sullivan came to stay. She was a lively young woman with patience and imaginaion. A born teacher, she dreamed of turning a deaf-blind creature into a useful human being.

  What a challenge I must have been to this young teacher! I remember the many times she tried to spell words into my small hand. But neither words nor letters meant anything to me. I thought her finger movements were some kind of game. But at last, on April 5, 1887, she reached my understanding. About a month after her arrival, she taught me the word "water."

  It happened at the well where I was holding a jar while Annie pumped. As the water splashed onto my hand, she kept spelling w-a-t-e-r into my other hand with her fingers. Suddenly I understood!

  It was the first joy I had known for years. I reached out to Annie’s hand. She understood I was begging for new words, for the names of the things I touched. The words - so full of meaning - flew from her hand to mine. Those first words were to change my world.

  One of the first things Annie did was to teach me to play. I had not laughed since I became deaf. One day she came into my room laughing merrily. Putting my hand on her face, she spelt l-a-u-g-h. Then she tickled me into a burst of laughter. Next Annie took me by the hand and taught me how to hop and skip. She then immediately spelt the words h-o-p and s-k-i-p for me. In a few days I was learning - and enjoying it - like any child.

  Annie kept some pigeons in a cage so that when they were let out I might feel the air from their wings. In this way I found out how birds could fly. The pigeons would land on my head and shoulders. I learned to feed them and understand their ways. That is why birds, though I could not see them, have always been as much a part of my world as flowers and stones.

  Teacher would not let the world about me be silent. Through my hands and fingers, I "heard" the sounds that one hears on a farm, the noise made by cows, horses, chickens, pigs. She brought me into touch with everything that could be reached or felt - sunlight, the rustling of silk, the noises of insects, the creaking of a door, the voice of a loved one.

  Annie treated me exactly as if I were a seeing and hearing child. As soon as I had enough words to know the difference between right and wrong, I was put to bed whenever I did something wrong. How wonderful to be treated like a normal child, even when I was bad!

  As I look back upon those years, I am struck by Annie's wisdom. Perhaps she understood me because she herself had always had very weak eyes.

  Annie was born in a poor family, on April 4, 1866. Her mother died when she was eight years old. Two years later, her father dissappeared, never to be heard from again. Annie and. her brother were sent to a house for orphans. There the boy died.

  No one outside the orphans' home was interested in Annie, who was almost blind. But finally, after four years, she managed to escape by crying out to a group of visitors, "I want to go to school!"

  At an institution for the blind, Annie learned braille. This is a kind of printing for blind people so that they can read by touch. She also learned a kind of alphabet for the blind, in which different finger positions stand for different letters of the alphabet.

  Later, an operation helped her to get back part of her sight, but she remained at her institution for six years more. There she studied about teaching deaf-blind children.

  One day a letter from my father arrived at the school. It asked a teacher for me. Annie considered the challenge just the one she wanted. That is how Annie came to with us.

  Annie was among the first to realize that a blind person never knows his hidden strength until he is treated like a normal human being. She never pitied me; she never praised me unless what I did was as good as that of the best of a normal person. And she encouraged me when I made up my mind to go to college.

  During my years in school, Annie sat beside me every class. She spelled out the things that the teachers taught. And, because most books were not printed in braille, she herself read them to me by spelling into my hand what was written in the books.

  Teacher's eyes were always a problem. "I can't see an inch ahead, " she once told me. A doctor was shocked when he heard that she read to me five or more hours every day. Because of this, I often pretended to remember parts of books that I had forgotten, so that she wouldn't have to reread them to me.

  It took great imagination as well as patience for Annie to teach me to speak. Putting both my hands on her face when she spoke, she let me feel all the movements of her lips nad throat. Together we repeated and repeated words and sentences. My speech was clumsy and not pleasant to hear. But I was delighted to be able to say words that my family and a few friends could understand. For Annie I owe thanks for this priceless gift of speech. It has helped me to serve others.

  Teacher's inpiration lived on after her death. She had believed in me. I must always keep on trying to do my best.

  "No matter what happens, " she often said, "keep on beginning. Each time you fail, atart all over again. You will grow stronger each time, until you can doand finish what you started out to do." Who could count the times Annie tried, failed, and then conquered?

  What a great teacher! What a great person!

LESSON 7 THE TRIAL

审判(选自《威尼斯商人》)

  Antonio, a merchant in Venice, was liked by everyone because he was always ready to help others. He had many ships which traded with other countries. Now his ships were all at sea.

  Bassanio, Antonio's best friend, was in love with Portia, a rich and beautiful lady who also loved him. But he was sad because he could not ask Portia to marry him while he himself had no money. So he asked Antonio to lend him three thousand ducats. Antonio did not have any money just then. He went to Shylock, a cruel moneylender, who hated him, because he had often publicly scolded him for his greed. Shylock agreed to lend Antonio the money on condition that Antonio must promise to give him a pound of his flesh and allow him to cut the flesh from any part of his body if he did not pay back the money at the end of three months. Antonio agreed, took the three thousand ducats and gave the money to Bassanio.

  Bassanio and Portia arranged to get married. It so happened that Bassanio's servant Gratiano had fallen in love with Portia's maid Nerissa. These two also decided to get married. As the two couples were discussing the wedding arrangements, a letter arrived from Antonio, saying that all his ships were all lost at sea and he would have to give Shylock a pound of his flesh. He wished to see Bassanio before he died.

  After the couples got wedding, Portia told Bassanio to go at once to his friend. When Bassanio and Gratiano had gone, Portia thought of a clever plan to save Antonio. She had a good friend who was a doctor of laws. She asked him to lend her some of his lawyer's clothes and notes. She pretended to be a lawyer and Nerissa dressed herself like a lawyer's clerk. They went to Vinice. When they arrived, Antonio and Shylock had been brought before the Duke, and the trial had begun.

  *    *    *

Duke: Have mercy on Antonio. Everyone thinks that you will pretend to be cruel until the last minute. Then you will show your mercy.

Shylock: I've promised to take my pound of flesh. If you do not let me have it, that will be bad for Venice. No one will trust your laws any more. The greatness of Venice will soon be lost. Antonio is my enemy, I hate him.

Bassanio: Do all men kill the things they do not love?

Antonio: It is useless trying to talk to Shylock. Don't wait any longer. Pass judgement on me and give Shylock what he wants.

Bassanio: I'll pay you six thousand ducats for the three thousand ducats that Antonio borrowed.

Shylock: If you offered me six times the amount that you have just offered, I would still take my pound of flesh. Give me my pound of flesh!

Duke: How can you hope for mercy yourself when you show none?

Shylock: I have done nothing wrong and I fear no judgement. Give me my pound of flesh!

(As the Duke is wondering what to do, Nerissa, dressed like a lawyer's clerk, arrives with a letter from the famous lawyer whom Portia has visited.

  While the Duke is talking to Nerissa, Shylock begins to get ready to cut his pound of flesh from Antonio.

  Then the letter is read out for all the court to hear: "I am very ill. When your letter reached me, I had with me a learned young doctor from Rome. I told him about the quarrel between Shylock and Antonio. We studied many lawbooks and he knows what I would say. I ask you to let him stand in my place and give judgment. He is young, but I never knew so young a body with so wise a head."

  After the letter has been read to the court, Portia, in lawyer's clothes, enters the room. She takes her seat as judge.)

Portia: Are you Antonio? -- And is this your agreement with Shylock?

Antonio: It is.

Portia: Then Shylock must be merciful; he must have mercy on Antonio.

Shylock: Why must I have mercy on him? Tell me that!

Portia: Mercy falls like the gentle rain from the sky upon the earth. It blesses him who gives it, and him who receives it. We should learn to show mercy to others. Do you still ask for this pound of flesh?

Shylock: I ask for what is mine by law!

Bassanio: I offer ten times the amount of money that Antonio has borrowed. Please change the law a little so that we may save Antonio.

Portia: We cannot change a law. If one law is changed, then other men will later want to change other laws.

Shylock: Oh, wise young judge!

Portia: Let me see this agreement, this promise of Antonio to you.

Shylock: Here it is.

Portia: Yes, by law Shylock may have a pound of flesh to be cut off by him nearest to Antonio's heart. Be merciful! Let me destroy this paper. --No? Then, Antonio, be ready; and Shylock, take your knife.

Shylock: Oh, learned judge! Oh, wise young man!

Portia: Have you brought anything to weigh the flesh?

Shylock: Yes. I have everything ready here.

Portia: Do you have a doctor, Shylock, to stop Antonio's blood?

Shylock: That is not in the agreement.

Portia: Do you wish to say anything, Antonio?

Antonio: Only a little. Goodbye, Bassanio. Don't be sad for me. Tell your wife about me and how much I loved you. If Shylock cuts deep enough, I'll pay him back with all my heart.

Bassanio: I love you more than my own life, more than my wife, and more than all the world. (He cries.)

Portia: Your wife wouldn't like that offer if she were present to hear you.

Gratiano: I have a wife, whom I love very much. But I wish that she were dead and in heaven, so that she would be able to ask God to help Antonio.

NerissAntonio: It is good that you make this wish when she is not here. If she were present, there would be trouble in your home.

Shylock: We are wasting time.

Portia: Take your pound of flesh. The court allows it and the law gives it to you.

(Shylock begins to move towards Antonio, and is ready to act.)

Portia: Wait! There is something else. Antonio has promised to give you a pound of his flesh. But he has not promised to give you any of his blood. If you let one drop of his blood fall, you will lose all your land and all your money.

Gratiano: Oh, learned judge! Oh, wise young man!

Shylock: Is that the law?

Portia: You shall see the law. You wanted justice; so you shall get justice - more than you wanted.

Shylock: I will take the money. Give me three times more than Antonio borrowed from me.

Bassanio: Here it is. (He cries out, full of joy.)

Portia: Wait! Shylock would not take the money earlier. All he wanted was justice. That is all he can have now. You must cut off just one pound of flesh. No more, no less, just one pound - and not one drop of blood.

(Shylock turns and starts to leave the court.)

Portia: Wait, Shylock. The law of Venice says that if anyone tries to kill any citizen of Venice, everything that he owns shall be taken away from him. One half of his money and his goods shall be given to the city of Venice and the other half shall be given to the person he has tried to kill. His life shall be at the mercy of the Duke. Therefore, go down on your knees and beg the Duke for mercy.

Duke: I shall not kill you. But half of your money is now Antonio's. You must give the other half to the city of Venice.

Shylock: Take my life too! My money and goods are as dear to me as life itself. When you take those away from me, you also take my life.

Antonio: I shall be happy to give up my part of Shylock's money. Shylock must promise to leave the money upon his death to his daughter and her husband.

Shylock: I promise. Let me go home now. I am not well.

                            THE CURTAIN FALLS

LESSON 8 CHARLES DARWIN

查尔斯·达尔文

  Two men were deep in argument.They were men of wealth and good education.The discussion was taking place in the library of a large country house which one of them owned.Gradually the argument became more heated.It was about a book which lay on the table in front of them.They disagreed about some of the views in the book.Both of them had read it carefully.Then they had read some of the chapters again and again.One of the men held the view that what the book said was right.The other was sure that it was wrong.

  The year was 1859.The book had not long been published and had shocked many learned people in Britain.Its title was the Origin of Species,written by Charles Darwin.He had set out to question views about how life had developed on the Earth.In doing so,he had thrown doubt on some people's religious beliefs.And religion was such an important part of life at that time that some men were quite angry with Darwin.How dare he attack beliefs and ideas which had been held for centuries?

  Darwin's views were the result of years of careful observation,thought and study.One of his most important ideas was that different types of living creatures on the Earth had not been created suddenly.Instead,they had been developing over thousands of millions of years.In the struggle for life,some species had not been successful.They had died out.Others,however,remained because they were able to fit in with their surroundings.This was what was known as "the survival of the fittest."

  The book was not meant to be an attack on Christian belief.Darwin simply set out the facts that he believed to be true.And he based his ideas on scientific experiment.He did not want to make a statement without trying to prove it.But naturally,the Origin of Species was seen as a book written against religion.Its ideas did not agree with what was written in the Bible.For example,Darwin's points about slow evolution did not agree with the story of how Man was created in the Bible.Therefore the book caused great interest and argument,and its author was soon the centre of attention.

  Darwin was born in 1809 at Shrewsbury,where he went to school.Later,he studied medicine at Cambridge.However,he was very interested in plants,animals and geology.Therefore when the opportunity arose to go on amost important and interesting voyage for scientific study,he took it.

  The journey lasted for five years,from 1831—36.It took him to many different parts of the world.Wherever he went,Darwin made a most careful study of the animal and plant life found there.He was not prepared to accept the usual teachings about how things developed.In true scientific manner,he liked to put ideas to the test.If possible,he wanted proof before he would believe something.

  After Darwin returned to Britain he married and settled down to live in Kent.He lived and worked there for the rest of his life.For much of the time he suffered from bad health.However,his work continued.Over the years he read widely.Gradually he gathered together the proof for his beliefs.One of Darwin's friends,Alfred Wallace,was also a naturalist.Wallace and Darwin agreed on the way in which different forms of life had begun.Some of their work was published in 1858.Immediately,it aroused interest.Darwin's main work,the Origin of Speices,was published a year later,in November 1859.The book was received so eagerly that it was sold out on the first day!

  Then came the arguments.Most scientists of the time were prepared to accept what Darwin said.The man was something of a genius.He had made his points carefully.Proof was given to support his views.But many people simply could not believe that what he had written was true.It was so different from what the Church taught,and Church leaders declared that Darwin's book was an attack on Christian belief.So many of them wrote and spoke out strongly against it.One of these was the Bishop of Oxford,who took part in a debate against T. H. Huxley,a well-known scientist.The views which they spoke in public showed the great differences which existed between many scientists and many church people.The Bishop said that Darwin's ideas were wrong.Huxley asked him to offer proof,as Darwin had done.The Bishop mainly read statement from the Bible.

  The argument went on for many years.The whole question was of interest to a large number of people.Whether or not they agreed with Darwin's views,many of them thought deeply.

  Darwin lived on until 1882.Later in his life,he wrote several other books.But none of them caused the kind of interest and argument that had come in 1859.His Origin of Species was one of the most important books published during the nineteenth century.

LESSON 9 THE LANGUAGE OF THE BEES

蜜蜂的语言

  Animals, including insects, do not have a language like ours. They do not talk to each other in words and sentences. But if we watch them, we can see that they do have ways of coomunicating with each other. Professor Karl von Frisch is a scientist whose experiments have thrown great light on the amazing ways honeybees communicate in their dark hives.

  Professor von Frisch had worked with bees for many years. He was puzzled by something he had observed again and again. When he placed little dishes of honey on a table, bees soon same. As soon as one bee discovered the honey, many more came to it one after another in a short time. It seemed that one bee was able to communicate the news of food to other bees in its hive. How was this possible? To find out, Von Frisch built special hives, each with only one honeycomb. He built a glass wall through which he could watch what went on inside. In order to tell the bees apart, he painted some bees with little spots of color.

  When a marked bee returned to the hive from the feeding table, Von Frisch watched through the glass. To his amazement, the bee began to perform a dance on the surface of the honeycomb. First she made a circle to the right, then to the left. She repeated these circles over and over. But that was not all. The dance seemed to excite the surrounding bees. They trooped behind the first dancer, imitating her movements. Then the bees left the hive and went to the feeding place. The circle dance seemed to communicate news of food. But what else?

  Von Frisch wanted to find out whether the dance told them how far away the feeding place was. So he set up two feeding places. One was close to the hive. The other was much farther away from the hive. He marked all the bees that came to the nearby feeding place blue, and all the bees that went to the faraway place were marked red. When the bees came back to the hive, Von Frisch saw a curious sight. All the bees that had been at the nearby place were doing the circling dance. All the bees that had been at the distant feeding place were doing a completely different dance, a wagging dance. The dancer ran in a straight line, wagging from side to side. Then she turned in a semicircle, ran straight again, and turned in another semicircle to the opposite side. She kept repeating the "steps" over and over. Things were clear now. The circle dance meant that food was near. The wagging dance meant that food was far away.

  But then another question came up. Did the wagging dance tell the bees how away the food was? To answer this question, Von Frisch and his co-workers set up a feeding place close to the hive. Then they slowly move it farther and farther away. Back at the hive they watched the wagging dance closely. With a stopwatch, they counted how many times the bees repeated the dance during one minute. They discoverd that the farther away the feeding station was, the slower the dance was. The slower the dance was, the fewer the times it could be repeated in a minute. So another amazing fact came to light. The number of wagging dances per minute told the distance to the feeding place.

  Next Von Frisch thought that bees needed to know more than just the disctance to a faraway place. He thought they needed to know the direction to it. He set out to discover whether the wagging dance showed direction. He put a glass dish with sugar water and honey to the west of the hive. A marked bee fed itself from the dish and returned to the hive. Soon, the bees in the hive flew out. They flew right to the dish. Then Von Frisch moved the dish to the eat of the hive and waited for a marked bee to feed. Again the bees flew right to the dish. How did the bees know exactly in which direction to fly?

  Von Frisch watched the wagging dance very carefully. He noticed that the straight part of the dance was different in the morning from what it had been in the afternoon. It soon became clear that the straight part of the dance changed when the sun's position changed. If the feeding place was toward the sun, the dancer headed straught upward during the straight of the wagging dance. If the feeding place was away from the sun, the straight part of the wagging dance poited downward. The wagging dance of the honeybee, therefore, did show the diirection of a feeding place.

  What do these experiments of Professor Karl von Frisch tell us about bees? Dp bees have minds? Can they figure out direction and distance? There is no scientific answer to these questions at present. All we can say is that bees can and do communicate with each other. Their dances are a kind of "language." But the world of the honeybee is just beginning to be ioened to us. More research is being done. Someday, as we understand more about them, we may be able to learn how bees developed their amazing "language."

LESSON 10 THE SIXTH DIAMOND

第六颗钻石

  It was my first job, working as a temporary salesgirl during the Christmas rush at Richardson's, the finest jewelry store in our city.

  The job was very important to Mother and me. Dad had passed away and Mother and I did not have enough to live on in those hard Depression years. After graduation, I had spent the summer and fall hunting for a job. Dozens of better-trained persons had been turned down before me. There were just not enough jobs for the number of people out of work. Finally I had managed to get the temporary job at Richardson's.

  The department where I worked sold cheap jewelry. It was the klind of work that I liked. I could sell thimgs just by listening to people and finding out what they really wanted. By the end of the first week the head of the department was saying very nice things about me. By the end of the second week she was saying Good-bye - Mr Richardson, the owner, was sending me to the diamond department.

  "It's an honor, you know, " she told me. "Generally we only send our regular people there. Mr Richardson wants a quick, neat girl, someone who can run errands."

  The diamond department was the heart and center of the store. It sold both precious stones and the better kinds of jewelry. My duties were to arrange the goods, keep them clean, help out in the workroom and, above all, run errands

  It was interesting work that I enjoyed thoroughly.

  As Christmas drew near, the days became more rushed, but also more exciting. I really loved my work. My only worry was that January would find me hunting for a job again.

  One afternoon I heard Mr Richardson say to Mr McCallum, head of the diamond department, "Tell me about the little runner. I like her; she's a cheerful child."

  Part of the reply reached my ears. "Yes," Mr McCallum said, "she's a good girl. I've been meaning to suggest keeping her on..." That was all, but it sent me home feelng as if I were on top of the world!

  But the next day started badly. And it kept right on that way. I had to run for my bus and got my stockings dirty; Miss Allan, Mr McCallum's assistant, who wanted her people always neat, ordered me to go out and buy another pair. I came back to find that the girl who was working with me was ill and had been sent home. It was only a week until Christmas - the busiest time of the year. We were all nervous.

  At 4:30 a call came from Miss Allan. "Please get me the diamond ring from the end showcase," she said.

  As I hurried back, the ring in my hand, I looked up and noticed a man on the other side of the row of showcases. He was tall, fair and in his early thirties. But it was the expression on his face that stopped me even as I hurried toward Miss Allan's room. It was the look of a great many people in those unhappy Depression years. He looked bitter, angry, bewildered. His well-cut suit, shabby now, told me his story. He was one of thousands trained for jobs they could no longer find. He gazed at the beautiful stones with the despair of a man whose right to earn them has been taken away.

  I had a sudden deeling of sympathy. But I had other things on my mind and soon forgot all about him.

  A few minutes later Miss Allan called for me again.

  "Now get the clip that goes with this ring," Miss Allan said.

  The clip was at the very front of the window. To reach it meant climbing up a small set of steps and carefully leaning over the jewelry and other goods on display. I got it. Just as I was backing out, my sleeve caught on the corner of a tray of diamonds. The tray started to fall. I grabbed at it, and six magnificent diamond rings rolled across the floor.

  Mr McCallum ran to help me, upset and excited, but not really angry at me. He knew what a day I'd been through. "Pick them up quickly," he said, "and put the tray back."

  Down on my knees, I said through my tears, "Oh, Mr McCallum, Miss Allan is waiting!"

  "I'll see to Miss Allan myself, child," he said. "Just pick up those rings!"

  With the greatest speed I collected five rings and put them in the tray. But I couldn't find the sixth! I thought it must have slipped through the tiny opening between the showcase and the window. I ran around the counter and looked down. It wasn't there. Just then, out of the corner of my eye I saw the tall man moving toward the door of the shop, a few yards away. At that moment I knew that he had the ring. He had been standing at the only spot to which it could have rolled. I reached him just as he got to the door.

  "Excuse me, please," I said.

  He turned, and for an endless minute neither of us spoke. I prayed for some way to save my future in the diamond department. To drop a tray of rings was bad, but that would be forgiven. To lose a ring was unthinkable.

  "What do you want?" he asked. He seemed to be a bit nervous.

  What should I say? Disaster could come to me from what I was sure he'd done. Yet I felt he hadn't come into the store planning to steal. Perhaps he had just wanted to get warm.

  "What do you want?" he repeated. Suddenly I had the answer. Mother had always told me people are generally kind, I didn't think this man would want to hurt me. I looked out into the cold fog outside. "This is my first job," I said softly. "Jobs are hard to get now, aren't they?"

  He searched my face, then smiled a very gentle smile. "Yes," he said. "Indeed they are. But I'm sure you'll do very well in yours. May I wish you luck?"

  He put his hand out and clasped mine. "Good luck to you," I whispered as he opened the door and disappeared in the fog. Then I turned and put the sixth diamond in the tray.

LESSON 11 A SPEECH BY NORMAN BETHUNE

诺尔曼·白求恩的演讲

  Comrades, I thank you for the beautiful banners you have given to me and for the kind things you have said about me.

  The eyes of millions of freedom-loving Canadians, Americans and Englishmen are turned to the East and are fixed eith admiration on China in her glorious struggle against Japanese imperialism. This hospital has been equipped by your foreign comrades. I have the honour to have been sent as their representative. Do not consider it strange that people like yourselves, 30,000 li away, half-way around the globe, are helping you. You and we are internationalists: we recognize no race, no color, no language, no national boundaries to separate and divide us.

  It is not many months since I arrived here to work with you in this hospital. I used to think of it as "your" hospital, now I think of it as "our" hospital. From you I have learned many valuable lessons. You have shown me a spirit of selflessness, of working cooperatively, of overcoming great difficulties, and I thank you for those lessons. In return I may have been able to teach you a little about medical technique.

  It was the adoption of Western technique that was responsible, in part, for the transformation of Japan from a tenth-rate backward nation into a great world power in less than fifty years. Technique, in the hands of imperialists, has made Japan the enemy of the world. Technique in the hands of the workers of China will make her a great power for world peace. We must use that technique for the happiness and prosperity of the millions and not just to make a few people rich.

  Why must we learn good technique? Because good technique in medicine and surgery means more quickly-cured patients, less pain, less discomfort, less death, less disease and less deformity. What is the duty of a doctor, of a nurse, of an orderly? It is our duty to make our patients happy, to help them in their fight back to health and strength.

  I cannot close without expressing my admiration for the courage and uncomplaining spirit of our wounded, both of the 8th Route Army and the partisans. For these there is nothing less we can do, than to give them the greatest care and skill, in return for what they have endured and suffered for us. For they have fought, not only for the China of today, but that great, free, democratic Chinese Republic of tomorrow, which they, and we, may never live to see. The important thing is that both they and we, by our actions now, are making that new Republic possible, are assisting in its birth. But whether it will be born or not, depends on our actions today and tomorrow. It is not self-generating. It must be created by the blood and the work of all of us who believe in the future; who believe in man and his glorious man-made destiny. Only in this way is it inevitable.

  To those who have fallen, to those whom we have not been able to save, let us say: we shall remember the sacrifices of the dead. Our goal is the new China for which they died. In their memory, in devotion to our great cause, let the living and the dying seal our comradeship. In struggle and sacrifice we shall have one purpose, one thought. Then we will be invincible. Then we will know that even if we do not live to see it, some day those who come after us will gather here, as we do today, to celebrate, not just the building of a model hospital, but of a great and democratic republic for the liberated people of China.

LESSON 12 FROM THE JAWS OF DEATH

绝处逢生

  Dunkirk is a small port on the northern coast of France. It lies close to Belgium. Before 1940, the town was not widely known. But since that time, it has entered Britain's history in the story of an almost miraculous escape.

  In the summer of 1940, Hitler ordered his armies to attack in the West. The Germans drove forward and on the 10th of May they invaded Holland and Belgium. Thousands of tanks and trucks moved forward. They were supported by large numbers of planes. Dive-bombers blasted advanced positions and strongpoints. Fighters flew at treetop level, firing cannons and machine-guns at lines of transport. Troops were dropped or landed by gliders behind the defenders.

  The British Expeditionary Force had been in France since the end of 1939. Shortly after the war began, British soldiers were tranported across the English Channel to fight beside their French allies. When the German invasion of Belgium took place in May 1940, British forces moved into that country to help the Belgians.

  But the German battle plan had been well prepared. A few days later, the German armies launched blows at the French defences around Sedan. Soon they broke through. They moved with a speed which bewildered the defenders. Tanks and amoured cars thrust deep behind the French lines.

  The British forces had to fall back quickly, but suddenly they found their retreat cut off. They were surrounded on the open beaches of Dunkirk.

  In Britain there was deep gloom. The strength and success of the German advance had surprised everybody. The French Army was being smashed. The British Expeditionary Force seemed to be trapped at Dunkirk. Perhaps a few men would escape, but it seemed as if the majority would have to surrender. The blow would be so heavy that Britain might have to ask for peace.

  Then the miracle began.

  No one knows exactly how it began, how word was spread, but somehow the massage was passed that Englishmen were trapped and dying on the beaches of France and that other Englishmen must go to take them off those beaches. Some boats were needed, anything that could float and move under its own power -- lifeboats, tugs, fishing boats, pleasure boats. Large and small, new and old, wide and narrow, fast and slow, they moved down to the shore. The "crews" were made up of bankers and doctors, taxi drivers and sportsmen, old longshoremen and very young boys, engineers and fishermen. There were fresh-faced young Sea Scouts and old men with white hair blowing in the wind. Some were poor, with not even a raincoat to protect them from the weather, others were owners of great wealth and property. A few had machine-guns, but most had nothing but their own brave hearts.

  Off they went ay sundown on May 26, more than a thousand boats in all. It was a miracle that so many had been able to come together at one place at one time, and even more miraculous that crews had been found for them. But now came the strangest part of the miracle. The English Channel, ordinarily one of the roughest places in the world - no place at all for a small boat - suddenly became calm and flat. The little boats went out into a calm night, headed for the French coast, where anxious British soldiers were waiting. Coming up behind them were warships and gunboats.

  Suddenly out of the night dozens of flares were dropped over Dunkirk by German bombers. They lit up a terrible scene: wrecked and burning ships everywhere, thousands of British soldiers standing deep in the water holding their weapons over their heads, hundreds of thousands more in lines on the beaches. Through it all moved the little boats coming to the rescue.

  The planes came in to attack. But the people on the little boats fought back, firing rifles and old guns as the dive-bombers screamed down. Bombs exploded everywhere. Through it all, the little boats continued to move in to the beach and began taking aboard soldiers.

  Those who were there will never forget the long lines of tired men staggerng across the beach, falling into the little boats, while others, caught where they stood, died among the bombs and bullets.

  The amazing thing was the lack of panic. There was no mad rush for boats. The men moved slowly forward, neck deep in the water, with their officers guiding them. As those in front were dragged aboad the boats, those in the rear moved up, until at last it was rtheir turn to be piled up over the side.

  Boats that had never carried more than a dozen people at a time were now carrying sixty or more. Somehow they backed off rhe beach, remained floating, took their loads out to the larger ships waiting offshore and then returned to the beach foe men.

  German guns and German planes rained down bombs, shells, and bullets until the little boats seemed to be moving through a sea of fire. The Germans were closing in for the kill. Still the little boats went about their business, moving steadly through the water.

  All through the long hours, the work went on. The old men and boys who made up the crewskept pulling the men aboard, made the wounded as comfortable as possible, took them out to the larger ships, then returned for more. No matter how many times they made the trip, their were still more men, waiting to be rescued.

  And then at long last, on the morning of June 4, with the fires growing pale against the daylight and the dive-bombers sweeping in for the kill, the job was done; the beach was empty of life. The "fleet" turned and started home to England.

  It had been hoped that some 30,000 men might be rescued. What the little boats actually did was to take off 335,000 men, the best of British army. Although their heavy equipment was lost, the men were saved.

  Britain had suffered a defeat, but thanks to the courage and skill of those who manned the boats, the British army was ready to fight again, with what is now called the "Dunkirk spirit."

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