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    分类:寒假作业答案 时间:2019-04-02 本文已影响




      My iron-willed grandmother

      My grandmother was an iron-willed woman, the feared matriarch of our New York family back in the 1950s.巴士英语www.xiao84.com

      When I was five years old, she invited some friends and relatives to her Bronx apartment for a party. Among the guests was a neighborhood big shot who was doing well in business. His wife was proud of their social status and let everyone at the party know it. They had a little girl about my age who was spoiled and very much used to getting her own way.

      Grandmother spent a lot of time with the big shot and his family. She considered them the most important members of her social circle and worked hard at currying their favor.




      At one point during the party, I made my way to the bathroom and closed the door behind me. A minute or two later, the little girl opened the bathroom door and grandly walked in. I was still sitting down.

      "Don't you know that little girls aren't supposed to come into the bathroom when a little boy is using it!?" I hollered.

      The surprise of my being there, along with the indignation I had heaped upon her, stunned the little girl. Then she started to cry. She quickly closed the door, ran to the kitchen, and tearfully complained to her parents and my grandmother.

      Most of the partygoers had overheard my loud remark and were greatly amused by it. But not Grandmother.

      She was waiting for me when I left the bathroom. I received the longest, sharpest tongue-lashing of my young life. Grandmother yelled that I was impolite and rude and that I had insulted that nice little girl. The guests watched and winced in absolute silence. So forceful was my grandmother's personality that no one dared stand up for me.

      After her harangue was over and I had been dismissed, the party continued, but the atmosphere was much more subdued.







      Twenty minutes later, all that changed. Grandmother walked by the bathroom and noticed a torrent of water streaming out from under the door.

      She shrieked twice—first in astonishment, then in rage. She flung open the bathroom door and saw that the sink and tub were plugged up and that the faucets were going at full blast.

      Everyone knew who the culprit was. The guests quickly formed a protective barricade around me, but Grandmother was so furious that she almost got to me anyway, flailing her arms as if trying to swim over the crowd.

      Several strong men eventually moved her away and calmed her down, although she sputtered and fumed for quite a while.

      My grandfather took me by the hand and sat me on his lap in a chair near the window. He was a kind and gentle man, full of wisdom and patience. Rarely did he raise his voice to anyone, and never did he argue with his wife or defy her wishes.

      He looked at me with much curiosity, not at all angry or upset. "Tell me," he asked, "why did you do it?"

      "Well, she yelled at me for nothing," I said earnestly. "Now she's got something to yell about."

      Grandfather didn't speak right away. He just sat there, looking at me and smiling.

      "Eric," he said at last, "you are my revenge."











      A Sly Murder

      When giving a lecture about the significance of punctuation, the academic professor was interrupted and arrested by the police for murdering his wife, a receptionist of a kindergarten. The police found some photos he deleted from their e-album showing that they used to have a gay life. But, fed up with her wrinkled face, he murdered her instead of divorcing her to avoid fortune division. He cut up a kind of seashell with a sharpened knife, and hammered it into powder on a skateboard, and made at most one gram, which was enough to accelerate one’s pulse until he or she dies. This kind of poison can date back to 10,000 BC when people rubbed it on spears to kill beasts. The professor mixed the poison with onion, watermelon and yogurt for his wife. Howling and scratching her chest, she felt dizzy and died soon. www.xiao84.com

      After tentative examination, the police assumed she died of heart disease. But systematic botanical analyses showed that the watermelon spit on the messy mat and the quilt was poisonous. Regardless of exhaustion and starvation, the acute and skilful policemen used radioactive equipment to make sure the category of the poison. Primitive and not ample as their alternative equipment was, they got perfect accuracy somehow.

      People applauded the police and the woman’s family can look ahead with relief now.






      elping the Remote Village

      A year ago, the famous astronaut received an invitation by airmail from a remote village. Intending to sniff some fresh air, he and his interpreter paid a fortnight visit there. It was a privilege for them to be there, but they were shocked by what they saw. The tracks were muddy. The river was drying up. Most villagers only possessed one broom, a few tins and several jars and their rectangular grass huts with round angles were surrounded by weeds. Besides, their school had no roof and platform, and the students had no concept of clicking a computer at all. They were badly in need.www.xiao84.com

      Soon, the astronaut made a generous voluntary donation to the village. There were textbooks for students, sewing machines for tailors and tractors for farmers. His distribution catalogue also included operating a clinic and a trunk library, as well as giving weekly lessons to teach relevant farming knowledge like how to dry out seeds or raise oxen. He himself not only helped do some paperwork but also purchased grills for boys to toast potatoes and combs for girls who were dying to get one. The other day, he heard from the villagers again inviting him to participate in the donation anniversary. For political and security reasons, he couldn’t adjust his outgoing arrangement-otherwise he would go. But his deeds were remembered forever.










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