475 Riverside Drive
New York N.Y. 10027
Jan.15, 2011
Dear John,
I'm sorry you didn't get the part you tried out for in that play. I know how much you wanted to be in the play. Now you feel that maybe acting isn't the right future for you. I think you're wrong. You're a good actor. Do you remember when you played Caesar in your summer theatre group's play? You were excellent . People clapped(鼓掌)every time you walked on stage（舞台). Even the other actors loved you.
All actors have to get used to being turned down for a job. It's part of an actor's life. Even famouse actors don't get every part they want. I think you should give acting another chance. You love it so much, and you're good at it. Don't be discouraged because you lose one part in the play. Wait a bit, and try for another one. After all , you can always give up some other time.
Love,
Jane
【小题1】
Jane wrote this letter because____.

In the dining room of my grandfather’s house stood a massive grandfather clock. Meals in that dining room were a time for three    36  to become one. The table was always spread with    37   containing love as the main ingredient (成分). And that grandfather clock stood like an old family friend, watching over the    38   that was a part of our lives.
As a child, the old clock fascinated me. I    39  and listened to it during meals. Even more wonderful to me was my grandfather’s ritual (老习惯). He wound (上发条) that clock with a(n)    40   key carefully each day. I remember watching   41   my grandfather took the key from his pocket and opened the hidden door in the clock. He inserted the key and wound — not too much, nor too    42  . He never let that clock wind down and    43 . He showed us grandchildren how to open the door and let us each take    44    winding the key.
After my grandfather died, it was days after the funeral    45  I remembered the clock! The tears    46   freely when I entered the dining room. The clock stood there quiet.
Some time later, my grandmother gave me the key. The old house was   47 . No laughter over the dinner table, no ticking or chiming of the    48   — all was still. I took the key in my shaking hand and    49   the clock door. All of a sudden, I was a    50   again, watching my grandfather with his silver-white hair and blue eyes. He was there,    51   at me, at the secret of the clock's magic, at the key that held so much power.
I stood there,    52   in thought for a long time. Then slowly and    53   I inserted the key and wound the clock. It sprang to life. Tick-tock, tick-tock, life and chimes were breathed into the dining room, into the house and into my    54  . With the movement of the hands of the clock, my grandfather    55   again.