I grew up in a small town where the elementary school was a ten-minute walk from my house. Since it is not far away, I could go home for lunch and find my mother   36   for me.

At the time, I did not consider this a luxury(奢侈享受),    37  today it certainly would be. I took it for granted that mothers were the sandwich-makers and the   38   monitors(监督者). So I never   39  that this ambitious (雄心勃勃的) and clever woman,   40  had had a career before I was born, would spend almost every lunch hour throughout my elementary school years just with me.

I only knew that when the noon bell rang, I  41   race breathlessly home. My mother would be standing at the top of the stairs, smiling down at me with a look that suggested I was the only important thing she had on her  42  . For this, I am forever   43 .

One lunchtime when I was in the third grade will  44   me always. I had been picked to be the princess in the school play, and for weeks my mother had patiently helped me practise my  45   . But no matter how    46   I knew them at home,  47   I stepped on stage, every word  48   from my head.

Finally, my teacher took me aside and   49   that she had written a narrator's (叙述者 ) part to the play, and asked me to   50   roles.  Her words, kindly spoken,  51  hurt me, especially when I saw my part go to another girl.

I didn't tell my mother what had happened when I went home for lunch that day. But she   52   my unease（不安）, and instead of suggesting we practise my lines, she asked if I wanted to   53  in the yard.

       I watched my mother stop and bend down. "I think I'm going to  54  all these dandelions（蒲公英）," she said, pulling a flower up by its roots. "From now on, we'll have only roses in this garden."
　　"But I like dandelions," I protested（抗议）. "Yes, all flowers are beautiful—even dandelions." said mother. "Every flower gives pleasure in its own way, doesn't it?" she asked thoughtfully. I nodded, pleased that I had won her over. "And that is true of  55  too," she added. "Not everyone can be a princess, but there is no shame in that."
36. A. searching            B. preparing          C. looking                    D. waiting

37. A. although             B. if                      C. unless                      D. since

38. A. housework          B. homework         C. house                       D. garden

39. A. hoped                 B. hated                C. questioned                D. found

40. A. whom                 B. that                   C. who                         D. which

41. A. would                 B. should               C. might                       D. could

42. A. mind                  B. way                  C. life                          D. side

43. A. angry                 B. puzzled             C. interested                 D. grateful

44. A. pay off              B. refer to             C. stay with                  D. date from

45. A. dancing                     B. singing              C. papers                      D. lines

46. A. difficultly           B. slowly               C. easily                       D. lowly

47. A. immediately        B. quickly             C. unluckily                  D. actually

48. A. took                   B. got                   C. disappeared                     D. came

49. A. believed              B. wondered          C. expressed                 D. explained

50. A. join                    B. change                     C. provide                    D. improve

51. A. already               B. never                C. hardly                      D. still

52. A. watched                     B. observed           C. sensed                      D. avoided

53. A. walk                   B. read                  C. recite                       D. practice

54. A. bring in                     B. dig up               C. bring back                D. take on

55. A. life                            B. dandelions         C. roses                        D. people

Three boys and three girls were going to Fort Lauderdale and when they boarded the bus，they were carrying sandwiches and wine in paper bags，dreaming of golden beaches as the gray cold of New York vanished behind them.
As the bus passed through New Jersey，they began to notice Vingo, He sat in front of them，dressed in a plain，ill-fitting suit，never moving，his dusty face masking his age. He kept chewing the inside of his lip a lot，frozen into some personal cocoon of silence.
Deep into the night，outside Washington，the bus pulled into Howard Johnson's，and everybody got off except Vingo. He sat rooted in his seat，and the young people began to wonder about him，trying to imagine his life：perhaps he was a sea captain，a runaway from his wife，an old soldier going home. When they went back to the bus，one of the girls sat beside him and introduced herself.
"We're going to Florida,” she said brightly, “I hear it's really beautiful.”
“It is，”he said quietly，as if remembering something he had tried to forget.
"Want some wine?" she said. He smiled and took a swig.  He thanked her and once again returned to his silence. After a while，she went back to the others，and Vingo nodded in his sleep.
In the morning，they awoke outside another Howard Johnson's．And this time Vingo went in.  The girl insisted that he join them.  He seemed very shy, and ordered black coffee and smoked nervously as the young people chattered about sleeping on beaches. When they returned to the bus，the girl sat with Vingo again，and after a while, slowly and painfully，he told his story. He had been in jail in New York for the past four years，and now he was going home.
“Are you married?”
“I don't know.
“You don’t know?” she said.
“Well，when I was in jail I wrote to my wife，”he said. “I told her that I was going to be away a long time，and that if she couldn't stand it．if the kids kept asking questions，if it hurt too much，well she could just forget me, I'd understand. Get a new guy，I said she's a wonderful woman，really something and forget about me. I told her she didn't have to write me for nothing.  And she didn't.  Not for three and a half years.”
"And you’re going home now，not knowing?”
“Yeah，”he said shyly. “Well，last week，when I was sure the parole (假释) was coming through, I wrote her again.  We used to live in Brunswick，just before Jacksonville，and there’s a big oak (橡树) tree just as you came into town. I told her that if she'd take me back，she should put a yellow handkerchief on the tree，and I'd get off and come home,  If she didn't want me, forget it, no handkerchief，and I'd go on through.”
"Vow,” the girl exclaimed. "Wow.”
She told the others，and noon all of them were in it, caught up in the approach of Brunswick，looking at the pictures Vingo showed them of his wife and three children. The woman was handsome in a plain way，the children still unformed in the much-handled snapshots.
Now they were 20 miles from Brunswick, and the young people took over window seat on the right side，waiting for the approach of the great oak tree. The bus acquired a dark，hushed mood，full of the silence of absence and lost years. Vingo stopped looking, tightening his face into the ex-con's mask, as if fortifying himself against still another disappointment.
Then Brunswick was ten miles, and then five. Then，suddenly，all of the young people were up out of their seats，screaming and shouting and crying，doing small dances of joy. All except Vingo.
Vingo sat there stunned，looking at the oak tree. It was covered with yellow handkerchiefs，20 of them，30 of them，maybe hundreds，a tree that stood like a banner of welcome billowing in the wind. As the young people shouted，the old rose and made his way to the front of the bus to go home.
【小题1】Which is right about Vingo?

Three boys and three girls were going to Fort Lauderdale and when they boarded the bus，they were carrying sandwiches and wine in paper bags，dreaming of golden beaches as the gray cold of New York vanished behind them.

As the bus passed through New Jersey，they began to notice Vingo, He sat in front of them，dressed in a plain，ill-fitting suit，never moving，his dusty face masking his age. He kept chewing the inside of his lip a lot，frozen into some personal cocoon of silence.

Deep into the night，outside Washington，the bus pulled into Howard Johnson's，and everybody got off except Vingo. He sat rooted in his seat，and the young people began to wonder about him，trying to imagine his life：perhaps he was a sea captain，a runaway from his wife，an old soldier going home. When they went back to the bus，one of the girls sat beside him and introduced herself.

"We're going to Florida,” she said brightly, “I hear it's really beautiful.”

“It is，”he said quietly，as if remembering something he had tried to forget.

"Want some wine?" she said. He smiled and took a swig.  He thanked her and once again returned to his silence. After a while，she went back to the others，and Vingo nodded in his sleep.

In the morning，they awoke outside another Howard Johnson's．And this time Vingo went in.  The girl insisted that he join them.  He seemed very shy, and ordered black coffee and smoked nervously as the young people chattered about sleeping on beaches. When they returned to the bus，the girl sat with Vingo again，and after a while, slowly and painfully，he told his story. He had been in jail in New York for the past four years，and now he was going home.

“Are you married?”

“I don't know.

“You don’t know?” she said.

“Well，when I was in jail I wrote to my wife，”he said. “I told her that I was going to be away a long time，and that if she couldn't stand it．if the kids kept asking questions，if it hurt too much，well she could just forget me, I'd understand. Get a new guy，I said she's a wonderful woman，really something and forget about me. I told her she didn't have to write me for nothing.  And she didn't.  Not for three and a half years.”

"And you’re going home now，not knowing?”

“Yeah，”he said shyly. “Well，last week，when I was sure the parole (假释) was coming through, I wrote her again.  We used to live in Brunswick，just before Jacksonville，and there’s a big oak (橡树) tree just as you came into town. I told her that if she'd take me back，she should put a yellow handkerchief on the tree，and I'd get off and come home,  If she didn't want me, forget it, no handkerchief，and I'd go on through.”

"Vow,” the girl exclaimed. "Wow.”

She told the others，and noon all of them were in it, caught up in the approach of Brunswick，looking at the pictures Vingo showed them of his wife and three children. The woman was handsome in a plain way，the children still unformed in the much-handled snapshots.

Now they were 20 miles from Brunswick, and the young people took over window seat on the right side，waiting for the approach of the great oak tree. The bus acquired a dark，hushed mood，full of the silence of absence and lost years. Vingo stopped looking, tightening his face into the ex-con's mask, as if fortifying himself against still another disappointment.

Then Brunswick was ten miles, and then five. Then，suddenly，all of the young people were up out of their seats，screaming and shouting and crying，doing small dances of joy. All except Vingo.

Vingo sat there stunned，looking at the oak tree. It was covered with yellow handkerchiefs，20 of them，30 of them，maybe hundreds，a tree that stood like a banner of welcome billowing in the wind. As the young people shouted，the old rose and made his way to the front of the bus to go home.

1.Which is right about Vingo?

2. The underlined word "`exclaimed" probably indicates that the girl was“______”

A. surprised        B:  angry         C:  embarrassed     D.  puzzled

3. From the story，we know that

4.What is the best title for the story?

Three boys and three girls were going to Fort Lauderdale and when they boarded the bus，they were carrying sandwiches and wine in paper bags，dreaming of golden beaches as the gray cold of New York vanished behind them.
As the bus passed through New Jersey，they began to notice Vingo, He sat in front of them，dressed in a plain，ill-fitting suit，never moving，his dusty face masking his age. He kept chewing the inside of his lip a lot，frozen into some personal cocoon of silence.
Deep into the night，outside Washington，the bus pulled into Howard Johnson's，and everybody got off except Vingo. He sat rooted in his seat，and the young people began to wonder about him，trying to imagine his life：perhaps he was a sea captain，a runaway from his wife，an old soldier going home. When they went back to the bus，one of the girls sat beside him and introduced herself.
"We're going to Florida,” she said brightly, “I hear it's really beautiful.”
“It is，”he said quietly，as if remembering something he had tried to forget.
"Want some wine?" she said. He smiled and took a swig.  He thanked her and once again returned to his silence. After a while，she went back to the others，and Vingo nodded in his sleep.
In the morning，they awoke outside another Howard Johnson's．And this time Vingo went in.  The girl insisted that he join them.  He seemed very shy, and ordered black coffee and smoked nervously as the young people chattered about sleeping on beaches. When they returned to the bus，the girl sat with Vingo again，and after a while, slowly and painfully，he told his story. He had been in jail in New York for the past four years，and now he was going home.
“Are you married?”
“I don't know.
“You don’t know?” she said.
“Well，when I was in jail I wrote to my wife，”he said. “I told her that I was going to be away a long time，and that if she couldn't stand it．if the kids kept asking questions，if it hurt too much，well she could just forget me, I'd understand. Get a new guy，I said she's a wonderful woman，really something and forget about me. I told her she didn't have to write me for nothing.  And she didn't.  Not for three and a half years.”
"And you’re going home now，not knowing?”
“Yeah，”he said shyly. “Well，last week，when I was sure the parole (假释) was coming through, I wrote her again.  We used to live in Brunswick，just before Jacksonville，and there’s a big oak (橡树) tree just as you came into town. I told her that if she'd take me back，she should put a yellow handkerchief on the tree，and I'd get off and come home,  If she didn't want me, forget it, no handkerchief，and I'd go on through.”
"Vow,” the girl exclaimed. "Wow.”
She told the others，and noon all of them were in it, caught up in the approach of Brunswick，looking at the pictures Vingo showed them of his wife and three children. The woman was handsome in a plain way，the children still unformed in the much-handled snapshots.
Now they were 20 miles from Brunswick, and the young people took over window seat on the right side，waiting for the approach of the great oak tree. The bus acquired a dark，hushed mood，full of the silence of absence and lost years. Vingo stopped looking, tightening his face into the ex-con's mask, as if fortifying himself against still another disappointment.
Then Brunswick was ten miles, and then five. Then，suddenly，all of the young people were up out of their seats，screaming and shouting and crying，doing small dances of joy. All except Vingo.
Vingo sat there stunned，looking at the oak tree. It was covered with yellow handkerchiefs，20 of them，30 of them，maybe hundreds，a tree that stood like a banner of welcome billowing in the wind. As the young people shouted，the old rose and made his way to the front of the bus to go home

1. 1.

   Which is right about Vingo?

   1. A.
      He was a sea captain
   2. B.
      He was a runaway from his wife,
   3. C.
      He was an old soldier going home
   4. D.
      He was a prisoner
2. 2.

   The underlined word "`exclaimed" probably indicates that the girl was“______”

   1. A.
      surprised
   2. B.
      :  angry
   3. C.
      :  embarrassed
   4. D.
      puzzled
3. 3.

   From the story，we know that

   1. A.
      the young people and Vingo loved New York
   2. B.
      Vingo dressed himself decently
   3. C.
      Vingo's Wife didn't write to him because she didn't miss him
   4. D.
      the young people were happy for Vingo because he could went home
4. 4.

   What is the best title for the story?

   1. A.
      An Unexpected Return
   2. B.
      Forgiving My Absence
   3. C.
      Going Home
   4. D.
      The Old Oak Tree

Pete Richards was the loneliest man in town on the day that little Jean Grace opened the door of his shop.

         Pete's grandfather had owned the shop until his death. Then the shop became Pete's. The front window was full of beautiful old things: jewelry of a hundred years ago, gold and silver boxes, carved figures from China and Japan and other nations.

         On this winter afternoon, a child stood there, her face close to the window. With large and serious eyes, she studied each piece in the window. Then, looking pleased, she stepped back from the window and went into the shop. Pete himself stood behind the counter. His eyes were cold as he looked at the small girl. “Please,” she began, “would you let me look at the pretty string of blue beads in the window?” Pete took the string of blue beads from the window. The beads were beautiful against his hand as he held the necklace up for her to see.

         “They are just right,” said the child as though she were alone with the beads. “Will you wrap them up in pretty paper for me, please? I've been looking for a really wonderful Christmas present for my sister.”

         “How much money do you have?” asked Pete.

         She put a handful of pennies on the counter. “This is all I have,” she explained simply. “I've been saving the money for my sister's present.”

         Pete looked at her, his eyes thoughtful. Then he carefully closed his hand over the price mark on the necklace so that she could not see it. How could he tell her the price? The happy look in her big blue eyes struck him like the pain of an old wound.

         “Just a minute,” he said and went to the back of the shop. “What's your name?” he called out. He was very busy about something.

         “Jean Grace,” answered the child.

         When Pete returned to the front of the shop, he held a package in his hand. It was wrapped in pretty Christmas paper.

         “There you are,” he said. “Don't lose it on the way home.”

         She smiled happily at him as she ran out of the door. Through the window he watched her go. He felt more alone than ever.

         Something about Jean Grace and her string of beads had made him feel once more the pain of his old grief. The child's hair was as yellow as the sunlight; her eyes were as blue as the sea. Once upon a time, Pete had loved a girl with hair of that same yellow and with eyes just as blue. And the necklace of blue stones had been meant for her.

         But one rainy night, a car had gone off the road and struck the girl. After she died, Pete felt that he had nothing left in the world except his grief. The blue eyes of Jean Grace brought him out of that world of self-pity and made him remember again all that he had lost. The pain of remembering was so great that Pete wanted to run away from the happy Christmas shoppers who came to look at his beautiful old things during the next ten days.

         When the last shopper had gone, late on Christmas Eve, the door opened and a young woman came in. Pete could not understand it, but he felt that he had seen her before. Her hair was sunlight yellow and her eyes were sea-blue. Without speaking, she put on the counter a package wrapped in pretty Christmas paper. When Pete opened the package, the string of blue beads lay again before him.

         “Did this come from your shop?” she asked.

         Pete looked at her with eyes no longer cold. “Yes, it did,” he said.

         “Are the stones real?”

         “Yes. They aren't the best turquoise(绿松石), but they are real.”

         “Can you remember to whom you sold them?”

         “She was a small girl. Her name was Jean. She wanted them for her sister's Christmas present.”

         “How much were they?”

         “I can't tell you that,” he said. “The seller never tells anyone else what a buyer pays.”

         “But Jean has never had more than a few pennies. How could she pay for them?”

         “She paid the biggest price one can ever pay,” he said.

         For a moment there was no sound in the little shop. Then somewhere in the city, church bells began to ring. It was midnight and the beginning of another Christmas Day.

         “But why did you do it?” the girl asked.

         Pete put the package into her hands.

         “There is no one else to whom I can give a Christmas present,” he said. “It is already Christmas morning. Will you let me take you to your home? I would like to wish you a Merry Christmas at your door.”

         And so, to the sound of many bells, Pete Richards and a girl whose name he had not yet learned walked out into the hope and happiness of a new Christmas Day.

1.When Pete saw Jean Grace, he was ______.

A. very enthusiastic, hoping for some business to be done

B. cold but he still served the young customer

C. cold, unwilling to serve the young customer

D. very warm to the young customer though he did not want to sell anything to her

2.Pete did not say the price of the necklace because ______.

A. the seller never tells anyone else what a buyer pays

B. he priced the necklace too high

C. he knew it would disappoint the girl

D. he didn't want to sell the necklace

3.The eyes of Jean Grace brought Pete out of his world of self-pity and he ______.

A. tried to forget the memory of his sweetheart

B. began to look at the world optimistically

C. remembered his lost love

D. no longer felt the pain in him

4.A young woman came into the shop because ______.

A. she was afraid that there might be some mistake

B. she thought that the stones she had bought were not real

C. she was not sure if she could get more stones like those

D. she did not like what she had once bought

5.By saying “She paid the biggest price one can ever pay,” Pete meant that Jean Grace     .

A. gave the most money for the necklace

B. gave all she had with her for the necklace

C. appreciated the value of the necklace

D. wanted to have the best thing in the shop

6. At the end of the story we see that Pete _____.

A. found another girl that he could trust

B. met someone who truly loved him

C. found a place to go at last

D. regained his ability to love