Question

How the years have rushed by! It has been a long time since I knew Marget Swenson. I was a child when I knew her, and now I myself have children. The mind loses many things as it matures, but I never lost Marget — my first love and first hurt.

I met Marget Swenson when she joined our sixth-grade class.

Marget, just fresh from Sweden, and I, a sixth-generation American. She spoke very little English, but somehow we did manage to understand each other. We took to each other at the first instant.

Marget lived up on the hill. That was the place where there were many large and pretty houses. I suppose it was only in passing that I knew only white people lived there.

We had so much fun together. We sat for hours in my garden or hers, surrounded by grass. Her words were Swedish; mine, English. We laughed at the way each of us slid our tongues over the unfamiliar words, I learned the Swedish words of “hello”, “friend”, and “goodbye”.

However, such fun did not last long, and the disaster began at Marget’s birthday party.

It was a Wednesday. I arrived at the party early. Marget and I whizzed around(忙碌着), putting the finishing touches on the decorations.

Some fifteen minutes later the doorbell rang, and in came Mary, another girl in our class.

But after that nobody came. No one.

When it got to be after five, Mrs Swenson called Marget inside. She was there for a long time, and when she came out, she looked very, very sad. “my mother does not think they are coming,” she said.

“Why not?” Mary blurted(突口而出).

Marget gave a quick glance at me, but she didn’t say anything.

I took Marget’s hand. “It’s me, isn’t it?” I said. Oh! I remember so painfully today how much I wanted her quick and positive “No!” to my question. But I was only aware of Marget trying to slip her hand from mine. I opened my hand and let her go.

It was different between us after her birthday. Marget stopped coming to my house, and when I asked her when she would, she looked as though she would cry.

One day, uninvited, I went to her house, climbed up the hill, and a restless thing grew within me at every step, almost a knowing.

Marget almost jumped when she opened the door. She stared at me in shock. Then, quickly, in a voice I’d never heard before, she said, “My mother says you can’t come to my house any more.”

I opened my mouth, and closed it without speaking. The awful thing had come; the knowing was confirmed. The awful thing had come because Marget was white I was not. I did know it deep within myself.

Since that meeting Marget and I did not speak to each other at all.

On the last day of school, screwing up a courage, I handed my autograph book to Marget. She hesitated, then without looking up, wrote words I don’t remember now; they were quite common words, the kind everyone was writing in everyone else’s book. I waited. Slowly, she passed her book to me and in it I wrote with a slow, firm hand, some of the words she had taught me. I wrote Adjo min van — Goodbye, my friend. I released her, let her go, told her not to worry, told her that I no longer needed her. Adjo.

68. What can be the best title of the passage?

       A. My best friend.         B. My first hurt.            C. Black and white.                     D. Adjo.

69. By saying “…but I never lost Marget…”, the author means “________”.

       A. I got in touch with her later.            B. We are still friends.

       C. I remember her forever                   D. I met her after many years

70. What does the underlined word “a knowing” refer to?

       A. Marget was white while I was not.   B. Marget refused to let me into her house.

       C. Marget’s mother didn’t like me.              D. Marget and I did not speak to each other at all.

71. According to the passage, ________ put an end to their once dear friendship.

       A. some outside force                         B. Marget

       C. Marget’s mother                             D. different personalities

Answer 1

【小题1】D

【小题2】C

【小题3】A

【小题4】A