阅读理解

　　It was the old lady's eightieth birthday．She was sure Myra wouldn't forget her mother's birthday, even if she was busy．After all, eighty was a special birthday．Perhaps Myra might come．Even if Myra did not come, she would send a present．The old lady was sure of that．Two spots of color brightened her cheeks．She was excited like a child,

　　Mrs．Morrison had brought a card and a bunch of flowers when she came to do the breakfast．Mrs．Grant downstairs had made a cake．Johnnie, the little boy next door, was now up with her with a packet of sweets．

　　“I guess you'll get lots and lots of presents," he said．"I did last week when I was six．" What would she like?A pair of slippers perhaps．A blue new cardigan．Or a table lamp．Or a little clock, with clear black numbers．So many lovely things．

　　She stood by the window, watching．The postman turned round the corner on his bicycle．Her heart beat fast．Johnnie had seen him too and ran to the gate．“Granny, granny," Johnnie returned．“I've got your post!"

　　He gave her four envelopes．Three were from old friends．The fourth was in Myra's writing．

　　“No parcel(包裹), Johnnie?"

　　“No, granny．"

　　Almost reluctantly, she tore the fourth envelope open．Folded in the card was a check．Written on the card was a message：Happy Birthday－Buy yourself something nice with the check, Myra and Harold．

　　The six-figure check fell to the floor like a bird with a broken wing．Slowly the old lady bent to pick it up．Her present, her lovely present．With trembling fingers she tore it into little bits．

阅读理解

　　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 cell phone and a credit card sitting on the road．We took them home．We always find amazing things on the street and she looks upon them as a movable feast-a chicken wing here or a barbecue rib(肋骨)there．

　　I found another cell phone 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 come to pick it up, which he did．

　　And that was that．No verbal 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 cell phone．I was pouring myself coffee when it started to shake and dance across the kitchen counter．

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

　　“Who's this?” I countered(反问)．“Sarah?”

　　She was surprised at my knowing her name until she realized her name was on the credit card．“Could you send them 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 to get them, and that if I wasn't at home, they would be in my mailbox．

　　A day later, when I was out for a run, someone got them back．There wasn't even a piece of paper put in the mailbox with “Thanks” on it．In this age of e-mail and cell phone, 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．