She turned up at the doorstep of my house in Cornwall. Noy way could I have 　　 36　 . Maybe someone had kicked her 　　 37　 　their car the night before. “No 　　 38　 　for her any more with the baby coming.”“We never really wanted her，but what could we have done？She was a　　 39　 .” People find all sorts of excuses for 　　 40　 　an animal.

I called her Goldie. If I had 　　 41　 　what was going to happen I would have given her a more creative name. She was so unsettled during those 　　 42　 　few days. She hardly ate anyting and had such an air of 　　 43　 　about her. There was 　　 44　 I could do to make her happy，it seemed. Heaven knows what had happened to her at her 　　 45　 　owner’s. But 　　 46　 at the end of the first week she calmed down. Always by my side.

　　 47　 we were out on one of our long walks or sitting by the fire.

That’s why it was such a 　　 48　 　when she pulled away from me one day when we were out for a walk. We were walking a long way from home，when she started 　　 49　 and getting very restless. Eventually I couldn’t hold her any longer and she 　　 50　 　down the road towards a farmhouse in the distance as fast as she could.

By the time I 　　 51　 　the farm I was very tired and upset with Goldie. But when I saw her licking（舔）the four puppies（幼犬）I started to feel 　　 52　 　towards them. The woman at the door said，“I took her for a walk one day， 　　 53　 　the puppies were born， and she just disappeared.”“She must have tried to come back to them and got lost，”　　 54　 a boy from behind her.

I must admit I do miss Goldie， but I’ve got Nugget now，and she looks just like her 　　 55　 . And I’ve learnt a good lesson：not to judge people.

36. A. sent her away　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　 B. sold it out

C. picked it up　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　 D. turned it down

37. A. beyond　　　　　　　 B. out of　　　　　　　 C. from　　　　　　　　　　　 D. within

38. A. seat　　　　　　　　　　　　　 B. interest　　　　　　　　　　 C. chance　　　　　　　　　　 D. space

39. A. gift　　　　　　　　　　　　　 B. reminder　　　　　　　　　 C. surprise　　　　　　　　　 D. bargain

40. A. taking　　　　　　　　 B. protecting　　　　 C. abandoning　　　 D. removing

4l. A. thought　　　　　　　 B. known　　　　　　　　　　 C. hoped　　　　　　　 D. imagined

42. A. first　　　　　　　　　 B. last　　　　　　　　　　　　 C. usual　　　　　　　　 D. special

43. A. darkness　　　　　　　　　 B. happiness　　　　 C. sadness　　　　　　　　　 D. eagerness

44. A. something　　　　　 B. anything　　　　　　　　　 C. everything　　　　 D. nothing

45. A. familiar　　　　　　　 B. previous　　　　　　　　　 C. cruel　　　　　　　　 D. troublesome

46. A. eventually　　　　　 B. unwillingly　　　　 C. unexpectedly　　 　　 D. probably

47. A. while　　　　　　　　 B. as　　　　　　　　　　　　　 C. either　　　　　　　 D. whether

48. A. joy　　　　　　　　　　　　　 B. shock　　　　　　　 C. sight　　　　　　　　 D. trouble

49. A. barking　　　　　　　 B. eating　　　　　　　 C. crying　　　　　　　 D. running

50. A. walked away　　　　　　 B. fell over　　　　　　 C. dropped out　　　 　　 D. raced off

5l. A. landed　　　　　　　　 B. reached　　　　　　　　　 C. left　　　　　　　　　　　　 D. found

52. A. anxiety　　　　　　　 B. respect　　　　　　　　　　 C. sympathy　　　　　　　　 D. pleasure

53. A. every time　　　　　 B. before long　　 　　　　　　 C. once in a while　 D. soon after

54. A. added　　　　　　　　 B. whispered　　　　 C. called　　　　　　　 D. warned

55. A. aunt　　　　　　　　　　　　　 B. sister　　　　　　　　 C. mother　　　　　　　　　　 D. child

Mary Lou

It was my first day to Miss Hargrove’s seventh grade. Past “newcomer” experiences had been difficult, so I was very   36   to fit in. After being introduced to the class, I bravely put on a smile and took my seat.

Lunchtime was a pleasant surprise when the girls all crowded around my table. They were friendly, so I began to   37  . My new classmates told me about the school, the teachers and the other kids. They   38   out the class nerd (书呆子) to me: Mary Lou. She was a pretty girl with dark eyes and olive-skin,   39   she wore a long woolen skirt and an old-fashioned blouse. She looked stupid. The girls whispered and giggled   40   Mary Lou walked by. She ate alone.

After school, the girls invited me to   41   them in front of the school. I was thrilled to be  a(n)   42   of the club. We waited. For what, I didn’t know. Then Mary Lou came down the school steps. The girls started making fun of her, shouting rudely, biting comments. I   43  , then joined right in. Mean remarks fell from my   44  . No one could   45   I’d never done this before. The other girls stepped back and started cheering for me. Feeling   46  , I pulled on her backpack and then pushed her. Her backpack broke, Mary Lou fell and I backed off. Everyone was laughing. I   47   in. I was a leader.

I was not proud. Something inside me   48  . If you’ve ever picked a wing off a butterfly, you know how I felt.

Mary Lou got up,   49   her books and left without a tear or saying anything. She held her head   50   as blood ran down from her knee. I   51   her limp away down the street.

I turned to leave with my   52   friends and noticed a man standing beside his car. He must have been Mary Lou’s father ––– he had the same olive skin, dark hair and handsome look. He remained still and watched the   53   girl walk toward him. Only his eyes ––– shining with both sadness and pride ––– followed. As I passed, he looked at me in silence with burning tears that reminded me of my   54  .

       Mary Lou’s father’s eyes taught me a good lesson that day. I never again hurt someone for my own   55  .

36. A. anxious           B. excited                C. eager                D. afraid

37. A. talk                B. hesitate               C. relax                 D. suspect

38. A. picked            B. pointed                C. worked             D. found

39. A. because                 B. so                       C. and                   D. but

40. A. as                  B. before              C. after                 D. since

41. A. consult           B. fight                   C. support             D. join

42. A. leader             B. member                     C. assistant            D. organizer

43. A. paused            B. refused               C. hurried              D. escaped

44. A. eyes               B. heart                   C. lips                   D. mind

45. A. tell                        B. say                     C. report            D. announce

46. A. ashamed         B. guilty                  C. encouraged     D. powerful

47. A. turned            B. went                   C. took                  D. fitted

48. A. sank               B. hurt                    C. touched             D. screamed

49. A. tore               B. closed                 C. gathered            D. grasped

50. A. cautiously       B. casually            C. low                   D. high

51. A. watched         B. noticed                C. glared            D. glanced

52. A. caring             B. laughing              C. puzzling            D. satisfying

53. A. silly                B. only                    C. lonely             D. friendly

54. A. pain                B. pity                     C. weakness          D. shame

55. A. loss                B. gain                    C. effort             D. duty

B

It was a beautiful Sunday morning, and Maggie and I were returning from our walk through the woods. We were only a couple of blocks from home when I spotted a cellphone and credit card sitting on the road. We took them home. We find amazing things on the street. She looks upon it as a movable dinner. Chicken wings here and there.

I found another cellphone a few years back, too, and called a number in its phone book. I explained the situation to the guy who answered. He said it was his sister’s and that he'd swing by to pick it up, which he did.

And that was that. No verbal (口头的) thank-you, no written thank-you, no “here’s a box of chocolates” thank-you.

I didn’t have time to call anyone on my latest found cellphone. I was pouring myself coffee when it started to vibrate (颤动) and dance across the kitchen counter.

“Who’s this?” someone asked when I picked up.

“Who’s this?” I countered. “Sarah?”

She was taken aback until she realized her name was on the credit card I also had recovered. “Could you send it to me?” she asked.

She lives in Arlington, which is 2 miles from my house.

“Hmm, no,” I replied, adding that I thought she could come get them, and that if I wasn’t home, they would be in my mailbox.

A day later, when I was out for a run, someone retrieved them. But I got nothing. In this age of e-mail and cellphones, there’s really no excuse.

Years ago, I found something more precious than a $100 bill on the street: a driver’s license. I saw that its owner lived a couple of blocks from me, so I called him up. He asked whether I could slip the license through his front door.

“I guess I could,” I replied.

And that was that.

61. What would be the best title for the text?

   A. Several Experiences of My Own

   B. “Thank You” Is Becoming More Priceless

   C. It’s Polite to Thank the Finders

   D. Only Losers Lack “Thank” for Finders

62. According to the text, it can be inferred that Maggie should be ______.

   A. the author’s wife             B. the author’s pet

   C. the author’s best friend        D. the author’s son

63. The author didn’t call anyone on his latest found cellphone because ______.

   A. it wasn’t worth to do          B. he wanted to keep it as his own

   C. he was busy then             D. he didn’t know its owner

64. The underlined word “retrieved” in the tenth paragraph means “______”.

   A. got back       B. returned       C. lost      D. threw away

65. How does the author feel when he told his last experience about the driver’s license?

   A. Disappointed.      B. Helpless.     C. Encouraged.      D. Hopeful.

B

It was a beautiful Sunday morning, and Maggie and I were returning from our walk through the woods. We were only a couple of blocks from home when I spotted a cellphone and credit card sitting on the road. We took them home. We find amazing things on the street. She looks upon it as a movable dinner. Chicken wings here and there.

I found another cellphone a few years back, too, and called a number in its phone book. I explained the situation to the guy who answered. He said it was his sister’s and that he'd swing by to pick it up, which he did.

And that was that. No verbal (口头的) thank-you, no written thank-you, no “here’s a box of chocolates” thank-you.

I didn’t have time to call anyone on my latest found cellphone. I was pouring myself coffee when it started to vibrate (颤动) and dance across the kitchen counter.

“Who’s this?” someone asked when I picked up.

“Who’s this?” I countered. “Sarah?”

She was taken aback until she realized her name was on the credit card I also had recovered. “Could you send it to me?” she asked.

She lives in Arlington, which is 2 miles from my house.

“Hmm, no,” I replied, adding that I thought she could come get them, and that if I wasn’t home, they would be in my mailbox.

A day later, when I was out for a run, someone retrieved them. But I got nothing. In this age of e-mail and cellphones, there’s really no excuse.

Years ago, I found something more precious than a $100 bill on the street: a driver’s license. I saw that its owner lived a couple of blocks from me, so I called him up. He asked whether I could slip the license through his front door.

“I guess I could,” I replied.

And that was that.

61. What would be the best title for the text?

   A. Several Experiences of My Own

   B. “Thank You” Is Becoming More Priceless

   C. It’s Polite to Thank the Finders

   D. Only Losers Lack “Thank” for Finders

62. According to the text, it can be inferred that Maggie should be ______.

   A. the author’s wife             B. the author’s pet

   C. the author’s best friend        D. the author’s son

63. The author didn’t call anyone on his latest found cellphone because ______.

   A. it wasn’t worth to do          B. he wanted to keep it as his own

   C. he was busy then             D. he didn’t know its owner

64. The underlined word “retrieved” in the tenth paragraph means “______”.

   A. got back       B. returned       C. lost      D. threw away

65. How does the author feel when he told his last experience about the driver’s license?

   A. Disappointed.      B. Helpless.     C. Encouraged.      D. Hopeful.

I was a freshman in college when I met the Whites. They were completely different from my own family, yet I felt at home with them immediately. Jane White and I became friends at school, and her family welcomed me like a long-lost cousin.

In my family, it was always important to place blame when anything had happened.

“Who did this?” my mother would scream about a dirty kitchen.

“This is your entire fault, Katherine,” my father would insist when the cat got out or the dishwasher broke.

From the time we were little, my sister, brothers and I told to each other. We set a place for blame at the dinner table.

But the Whites didn’t worry about who had done what. They picked up the pieces and moved on with their lives. The beauty of this was driven home to me the summer Jane died.

In July, the Whites sisters and I decided to take a car trip from their home in Florida to New York. The two older sisters, Sarah and Jane, were college students, and the youngest, Amy, had recently turned sixteen. Proud of having a new drivers license, Amy was excited about practicing her driving on the trip. She showed off her license to everyone she met.

The big sisters shared the driving of Sarah’s new car during the first part of the trip, but when they reached less crowded areas, they let Amy take over. Somewhere in South Carolina, we pulled off the highway to eat. After lunch, Amy got behind the wheel. She came to a crossroads with a stop sign. Whether she was nervous or just didn’t see the sign no one would ever know, but Amy continued into the crossroads without stopping. The driver of a large truck, unable to stop in time, ran into our car.

Jane was killed immediately.

I was slightly injured. The most difficult thing that I had ever done was to call the Whites to tell them about the accident and that Jane had died. Painful as it was for me to lose a good friend, I knew that it was far worse for them to lose a child.

When Mr. and Mrs. White arrived at the hospital, they found their two daughters sharing a room. Sarah had a few cuts on the head; Amy’s leg was broken. They hugged us all and cried tears of sadness and of joy at seeing their daughters. They wiped away the girl’s tears and made a few jokes at Amy as she learned to use her crutches(拐杖).

To both of their daughters, and especially to Amy, over and over they simply said, “We are so glad that you are alive.”

I was astonished. No blame. No accusations.

Later, I asked the Whites why they never talked about the fact that Amy was driving and had run a stop sign.

Mrs. White said, “Jane is gone, and we miss her terribly. Nothing we say or do will bring her back. But Amy has her whole life ahead of her. How can she lead a full and happy life if she feels we blame her for her sister’s death?”

They were right. Amy graduated from the University of California and got married several years ago. She works as a teacher of learning-disabled students. She’s also a mother of two little girls of her own, the oldest named Jane.

How did the author’s parents differ from the Whites?

   A. The author’s parents were less caring.    B. The author’s parents were less loving.

   C. The author’s parents were less friendly   D. The author’s parents were less understanding

How did the accident happen?

   A. Amy didn’t stop at a crossroad and a truck hit their car.

   B. Amy didn’t know what to do when she saw the stop sign.

   C. Amy didn’t slow down so their car ran into a truck.

   D. Amy didn’t get off the highway at a crossroad.

The accident took place in _____.

   A. Florida     B. California       C. South Carolina       D. New York

The Whites did not blame Amy for Jane’s death because _____.

   A. they didn’t want Amy to feel ashamed and sorry for the rest of her life

   B. Amy was badly injured herself and they didn’t want to add to her pain

   C. They didn’t want to blame their children in front of others

   D. Amy was their youngest daughter and they loved her best

From the passage we can learn that _____.

   A. Amy has never recovered from the shock   B. Amy changed her job after the accident

   C. Amy lost her memory after the accident    D. Amy has lived quite a normal life