WhenIwasaseniorincollege,IcamehomeforChristmasvacationandanticipatedafun-filledfortnightwithmytwobrothers.Weweresoexcitedtobetogetherandwevolunteeredtowatchthestoresothatmymotherandfathercouldtaketheirfirstdayoffinyears.ThedaybeforemyparentswenttoBoston,myfathertookmequietlyasidetothelittledenbehindthestore.Hetookoutacigarbox,openeditandshowedmealittlepileofnewspaperarticles.“Whatarethey?”Iasked.Fatherrepliedseriously,“ThesearearticlesI’vewrittenandsomeletterstotheeditorthathavebeenpublished.”AsIbegantoread,IsawatthebottomofeachneatlyclippedarticlethenameWalterChapman.“Whydidn’tyoutellmeyou’ddonethat?”Iasked.“BecauseIdidn’twantyourmothertoknow.ShehasalwaystoldmethatsinceIdidn’thavemucheducation,Ishouldn’ttrytowrite.Iwantedtorunforsomepoliticalofficealso,butshetoldmeIshouldn’ttry.Iguessshewasafraidshe’dbeembarrassedifIlost.IfiguredIcouldwritewithoutherknowingit,andsoIdid.Wheneachitemwouldbeprinted,I’dcutitoutandhideitinthisbox.IknewsomedayI’dshowtheboxtosomeone,andit’syou.”HewatchedmeasIreadoverafewofthearticlesandwhenIlookedup,hisbigblueeyesweremoist.“IguessItriedforsomethingtoobigthislasttime,”headded.“Didyouwritesomethingelse?”“Yes,Isentsomesuggestionsintoourchurchmagazineonhowthenationalnominatingcommitteecouldbeselectedmorefairly.It’sbeenthreemonthssinceIsentitin.IguessItriedforsomethingtoobig.”Thiswassuchanewsidetomyfun-lovingfatherthatIdidn’tquiteknowwhattosay,soItried,“Maybeit’llstillcome.”“Maybe,butdon’tholdyourbreath.”fathergavemealittlesmileandawinkandthenclosedthecigarbox.ThenextmorningourparentsleftonthebustotherailwaystationwheretheytookatraintoBoston.WhenIranthestorewithmytwobrothers,Ithoughtaboutthebox.I’dneverknownmyfatherlikedtowrite.Ididn’ttellmybrothers.Itwasasecretbetweenfatherandme.EarlythateveningIlookedoutthestorewindowandsawmymothergetoffthebus—alone.“Where’sDad?”Weaskedtogether.“Yourfather’sdead,”shesaidwithoutatear.ShetoldustheyhadbeenwalkingthroughtheParkStreetSubwayStationinthemidstofcrowdsofpeoplewhenfatherhadfallentothefloor.Anursebentoverhim,lookedupatmotherandsaidsimply,“He’sdead.”Motherhadstoodbyfatherstunned,notknowingwhattodoaspeopletrippedoverhimintheirrushthroughthesubway.Mothertoldustheshockingtalewithoutsheddingatear.Notshowingemotionhadalwaysbeenamatterofdisciplineandprideforher.Wedidn’tcryeitherandwetookturnswaitingonthecustomers.Onesteadypatronasked,“Where’stheoldmantonight?”“He’sdead,”Ireplied.“Oh,toobad,”andheleft.I’dneverthoughtoffatherasanoldman.He’dalwaysbeenhealthyandhappyandhe’dcaredforfrailmotherwithoutcomplainingandnowhewasgone.Nomorewhistling,nomoresinginghymnswhilestockingshelves.“Theoldman”wasgone.Onthemorningofthefuneral,IsatatthetableinthestoreopeningsympathycardsandpastingtheminascrapbookwhenInoticedthechurchmagazineinthepile.NormallyIwouldneverhaveopenedit,butmaybethatsacredarticlemightbethere—anditwas.Itookthemagazinetothelittleden,shutthedoor,andburstintotears.Ihadbeenbrave,butseeingDad’sboldrecommendationsinprintwasmorethanIcouldbear.IreadandcriedandthenIreadagain.InthemagazineIalsofoundatwo-pagelettertomyfatherfromHenryCabotLodge,Sr.,thankinghimforthecampaignsuggestions.Itookouttheboxandputtheminit.Ididn’ttellanyoneaboutthebox.
WhenIwasaseniorincollege,IcamehomeforChristmasvacationandanticipatedafun-filledfortnightwithmytwobrothers.Weweresoexcitedtobetogetherandwevolunteeredtowatchthestoresothatmymotherandfathercouldtaketheirfirstdayoffinyears.ThedaybeforemyparentswenttoBoston,myfathertookmequietlyasidetothelittledenbehindthestore.Hetookoutacigarbox,openeditandshowedmealittlepileofnewspaperarticles.“Whatarethey?”Iasked.Fatherrepliedseriously,“ThesearearticlesI’vewrittenandsomeletterstotheeditorthathavebeenpublished.”AsIbegantoread,IsawatthebottomofeachneatlyclippedarticlethenameWalterChapman.“Whydidn’tyoutellmeyou’ddonethat?”Iasked.“BecauseIdidn’twantyourmothertoknow.ShehasalwaystoldmethatsinceIdidn’thavemucheducation,Ishouldn’ttrytowrite.Iwantedtorunforsomepoliticalofficealso,butshetoldmeIshouldn’ttry.Iguessshewasafraidshe’dbeembarrassedifIlost.IfiguredIcouldwritewithoutherknowingit,andsoIdid.Wheneachitemwouldbeprinted,I’dcutitoutandhideitinthisbox.IknewsomedayI’dshowtheboxtosomeone,andit’syou.”HewatchedmeasIreadoverafewofthearticlesandwhenIlookedup,hisbigblueeyesweremoist.“IguessItriedforsomethingtoobigthislasttime,”headded.“Didyouwritesomethingelse?”“Yes,Isentsomesuggestionsintoourchurchmagazineonhowthenationalnominatingcommitteecouldbeselectedmorefairly.It’sbeenthreemonthssinceIsentitin.IguessItriedforsomethingtoobig.”Thiswassuchanewsidetomyfun-lovingfatherthatIdidn’tquiteknowwhattosay,soItried,“Maybeit’llstillcome.”“Maybe,butdon’tholdyourbreath.”fathergavemealittlesmileandawinkandthenclosedthecigarbox.ThenextmorningourparentsleftonthebustotherailwaystationwheretheytookatraintoBoston.WhenIranthestorewithmytwobrothers,Ithoughtaboutthebox.I’dneverknownmyfatherlikedtowrite.Ididn’ttellmybrothers.Itwasasecretbetweenfatherandme.EarlythateveningIlookedoutthestorewindowandsawmymothergetoffthebus—alone.“Where’sDad?”Weaskedtogether.“Yourfather’sdead,”shesaidwithoutatear.ShetoldustheyhadbeenwalkingthroughtheParkStreetSubwayStationinthemidstofcrowdsofpeoplewhenfatherhadfallentothefloor.Anursebentoverhim,lookedupatmotherandsaidsimply,“He’sdead.”Motherhadstoodbyfatherstunned,notknowingwhattodoaspeopletrippedoverhimintheirrushthroughthesubway.Mothertoldustheshockingtalewithoutsheddingatear.Notshowingemotionhadalwaysbeenamatterofdisciplineandprideforher.Wedidn’tcryeitherandwetookturnswaitingonthecustomers.Onesteadypatronasked,“Where’stheoldmantonight?”“He’sdead,”Ireplied.“Oh,toobad,”andheleft.I’dneverthoughtoffatherasanoldman.He’dalwaysbeenhealthyandhappyandhe’dcaredforfrailmotherwithoutcomplainingandnowhewasgone.Nomorewhistling,nomoresinginghymnswhilestockingshelves.“Theoldman”wasgone.Onthemorningofthefuneral,IsatatthetableinthestoreopeningsympathycardsandpastingtheminascrapbookwhenInoticedthechurchmagazineinthepile.NormallyIwouldneverhaveopenedit,butmaybethatsacredarticlemightbethere—anditwas.Itookthemagazinetothelittleden,shutthedoor,andburstintotears.Ihadbeenbrave,butseeingDad’sboldrecommendationsinprintwasmorethanIcouldbear.IreadandcriedandthenIreadagain.InthemagazineIalsofoundatwo-pagelettertomyfatherfromHenryCabotLodge,Sr.,thankinghimforthecampaignsuggestions.Itookouttheboxandputtheminit.Ididn’ttellanyoneaboutthebox.
Neither read, nor write.: can he … can he|can he … he can|he can … he can|he can…. Can he
Neither read, nor write.: can he … can he|can he … he can|he can … he can|he can…. Can he
Not until ____to the top of the place_____caught. A: he got; was he B: did he get; he was C: he got; he was D: did he get ; was he
Not until ____to the top of the place_____caught. A: he got; was he B: did he get; he was C: he got; he was D: did he get ; was he
【单选题】___, he has to make a living. A.Child as he is B.A child as he is C.Child as is he C.A child as is he A. Child as he is B. A child as he is C. Child as is he D. A child as is he
【单选题】___, he has to make a living. A.Child as he is B.A child as he is C.Child as is he C.A child as is he A. Child as he is B. A child as he is C. Child as is he D. A child as is he
He told me________free, he would come to our party. A: if was he B: that if he was C: whether he D: that whether he was
He told me________free, he would come to our party. A: if was he B: that if he was C: whether he D: that whether he was
, So busy ( ) that he has no time to spare. A: he was B: was he C: he is D: is he
, So busy ( ) that he has no time to spare. A: he was B: was he C: he is D: is he
He is not a millionaire but he ______ he were.
He is not a millionaire but he ______ he were.
He doesn't believe he will succeed, _______? A: does he B: doesn’t he C: will he D: won’t he
He doesn't believe he will succeed, _______? A: does he B: doesn’t he C: will he D: won’t he
He thinks he is going to become a doctor, ______? A: isn’t he B: does he C: is he D: doesn't he
He thinks he is going to become a doctor, ______? A: isn’t he B: does he C: is he D: doesn't he
He is not ____ a fool ____. A: such…as he is looked B: such…as he looks C: as…as he is looked D: so…as he looks
He is not ____ a fool ____. A: such…as he is looked B: such…as he looks C: as…as he is looked D: so…as he looks