Though I have traveled in hundreds of trains, few unusual things have ever happened to me. But one day in a train something did happen. I do not mean that I was hurt: no one was hurt.
I do my work in a hot country far away from England. Every September I go there to do my business, and every July I come back to England to have a rest. So every September I go to Paris and take a train from the great French city to Mendova, and at Mendova I catch my ship.
There is one very fast train from Paris to Mendova, and it suits me well. It goes as far as Endoran, but it stops at Mendova for a few minutes to let travelers get out or in. It is called The Flying Bluebird. It reaches Mendova at seven minutes past nine in the morning, and it is never late.
A ship leaves Mendova at half past eleven, and so you will understand that The Flying Bluebird suits me very well. I always travel by it, and I have nearly two and a half hours at Mendova to go from the station to the ship. That is more than enough time.
Well, one September night, I took my place in The Flying Bluebird as usual. The train leaves Paris at nine o’clock every night, and I was in my place soon after half past eight. There were three or four people there with me, but very soon a lot of others got into the train. When no more people could sit down, they began to stand up near us and also in the corridor（走廊）. In a short time the corridor was full too, and it was impossible for any more travelers to get into the train.
I could see a lot of other people outside the corridor windows, but they could not get in, and the train left Paris without them. The man sitting next to me started to ask all kinds of questions: “Where do you work? How long does it take you to get there? Are you married? How many children do you have? How much money do they pay you every year? How much do you have in the bank? How much do you spend every month?”
He asked questions for about twenty minutes but I did not give him any clear answers, and at last he stopped and began to read the paper.
I usually sleep quite well in the train, but this time I slept only a little. There were too many people, and there were too many things: small bags, large bags, coats, hats, boxes, newspapers and food. As usual, we got angry about the window. Most people wanted it shut, and two of us wanted it open. But that always happens. It was shut all night, as usual.
When I awoke in the early morning I felt hot and dirty, and glad that the journey was reaching its end. At seven minutes past nine The Flying Bluebird stopped. We were at Mendova, and I stood up thankfully. I took my two suitcases, held one in each hand, and tried to move towards the door into the corridor. In order to get out of the train, I had to pass down the corridor to the door at the far end. There was no other way out.
I could not even into the corridor. There was a suitcase on the floor by my feet, and three men were standing in my way. I felt a touch of fear. I had to get out, you see; I had to catch my ship, which left at half past eleven. And the train did not stop again until it reached Endoran, two hundred miles away.
“I must get out!” I cried. Everyone there understood me, but no one could move.
At last I was able to put one foot over the suitcase on the floor, and I nearly reached the door into the corridor. But then, very slowly, the train began to move. It was taking me away!
“Stop!” I cried. “I want to get out!” But no one outside the train could hear me, and the people inside did not care much. The train moved a little faster. What could I do? I was not even in the corridor.
Fear made me think quickly. In front of my eyes, just, above the door, was a notice that told everyone how to stop the train. I had to pull an iron thing near the notice. I did not waste time. I pulled it.
Well,
a noise started above our heads. That was to show everyone that there was something wrong. It was not a small sound. Possibly the men in my ship two miles away could hear it. Then the train stopped.
No one likes to stop a train if there is no need. But I had to catch my ship. That was the only thought in my mind: to get out and catch my ship.
小题1:The purpose of the author writing the first paragraph is to __________.
| A．answer some questions | B．express some unusual feelings |
| C．arouse the readers’ curiosity | D．give some advice in advance |
小题2:What do we know about the author and the man sitting next to him?
| A．They talked with each other all night |
| B．They got angry about the window |
| C．The author didn’t understand the man’s words |
| D．The author didn’t like the man’s foolish questions |
小题3:On this journey on The Flying Bluebird, the author felt uncomfortable because ___________.
| A．he couldn’t find a seat by the window |
| B．he was angry with the man sitting next to him |
| C．there were too many people on the train |
| D．the window was kept shut all night |
小题4:It can be learned from Para. 10 that the author was afraid that ____________.
| A．he would have to spend another sleepless night on the train |
| B．he would miss the ship that went where he worked |
| C．more people might crowd into the train |
| D．he would have to buy another ticket |
小题5:The noise in the underlined sentence “a noise started above our heads”（Para.15）was made by __________.
| A．the angry passengers shouting at the top of their voices |
| B．the ship that was lying two miles away |
| C．the falling of boxes and suitcases to the floor |
| D．the train itself telling people that something was wrong |
小题6:What would be the best title for the text?
| A．A Bad Experience on the Train | B．A Train that Is Never Late |
| C．A Quick and Wise Decision | D．A Journey to Mendova |
ter, 37 him alone with his six-year- old younger son. The hurt and pain of the two situations were _ 38 _ Al could handle, and he _ 39 to alcohol. Al began to lose everything he possessed---his home, his land, his art objects, everything. 40 he died alone in a San Francisco motel room.
ree 45 of the love between them. I knew that kindness and caring had to come 46 somewhere.
I hadn’t heard Ernie talk much about his father. It is so hard to 47 an alcoholic. One day I get up my 48 to ask him. “I’m really puzzled by something,” I said. “I know your father was basically the only one to 49 you. 50 on earth did he do that you became such a special person?
a child until I left home at 18, Al came into my room every night, gave me a __53 and said, “I love you, son.”
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wasn't enough for him. He 47 his pocket and at that I kindly told him that wasn't 48 . He ignored me and 49 out an envelope with about a dozen of a different kind of gold coins. He continued to give her another one and tell her how 50 it was and that one day it would be worth 51 . He then 52 me in the eye and wished me a good day.
nd knew just which part of
the field Nancy had lost it in. At this time, when he came there, he found it .He picked it up, put it carefully into his pocket, left his horse, and ran all the way down to the village and placed it into Nancy’s hand.
e a world record.
friends asked me what had happened．All I could say was that I had had an argument about a parking space．They were sensitive and let it go at that．
r it, but I stopped her．I knew I had to face up to my fear．
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