阅读理解

　　Eddie was in the back of the shop counting the day's takings when the doorbell rang. It was just on closing time and shutters were already up in front. Normally there were few customers after five, and the half hour before he shut the shop was mainly devoted to getting orders ready for the morning and entering up the accounts. Of course it might be Maureen, who had lately developed a habit of coming into the shop just before closing time and so making sure that Eddie did not escape her for the evening.

　　With a sigh Eddie put down his pen and came out from the back and went behind the counter. As he did so, he was fuming over in his mind what possible excuse he could offer to Maureen for not spending the evening with her. If only Maureen would accept the excuse of a headache or pressure of work. But she would want to stay and fuss over him if he said a headache, and as for work, she was always bothering him to move into a district where there was more business than in Candlewick Street. “Why is it, ”thought Eddie, “that she can't leave me alone for one evening? Doesn't it ever occur to her that I'd like a bit of time to myself?”

　　There was a woman in the shop and a man standing with his back half turned towards the counter. The woman was not Maureen, he didn't recollect ever having seen her before, but there was something vaguely familiar about the way the man was standing. It reminded him of the bare white-washed walls of St. Matthews hospital and Sam Lewis standing with his back towards Eddie staring out of the window.

　　The man turned. “Well, Eddie, ”he said, “it seems we've caught you just before lock-up time, eh?”

1．From the story we understand that ________.

[　　]

A．it was nearly five o' clock in the afternoon

B．Eddie had just closed his shop

C．Eddie always closed the shop at 4; 30

D．it was almost closing time

2．Why did Eddie think the caller might be Maureen? Because ________.

[　　]

A．she always came unexpectedly

B．she had often come at this time recently

C．she had promised to spend the evening with him

D．she had told him that she would come

3．When he heard the doorbell ring, Eddie was ________.

[　　]

A．at the back of the shop

B．in front of the counter

C．outside the shop

D．behind the counter

4．When Eddie first saw the two people in the shop, the man

[　　]

A．was facing him

B．had his back against the counter

C．was not directly facing him

D．was facing the counter

5．The writer tells us that Eddie ________.

[　　]

A．recognized the man and the woman

B．recognized the woman but not the man

C．didn't recognise the woman

D．hadn't seen the man before

On his bench in Madison Square Soapy moved uneasily, and he realized the fact that the time had come for him to provide against the coming winter.

The winter ambitions of Soapy were not of the highest. In them there were no dreams of Mediterranean voyages or blue Southern skies. Three months on the Island was what his soul desired. Three months of assured board and bed and good company, safe from north winds seemed to Soapy the most desirable thing.

Just as the more fortunate New Yorkers had bought their tickets to Palm Beach each winter, Soapy had made his arrangements for his annual journey to the Island. And now the time had come.

There were many institutions of charity in New York where he might receive lodging and food, but to Soapy’s proud spirit the gifts of charity were undesirable. You must pay in humiliation of spirit for everything received at the hands of mercy. So it was better to be a guest of the law.

Soapy, having decided to go to the Island, at once set about accomplishing his desire. He left his bench and went up Broadway. He stopped at the door of a glittering cafe. He was shaven and his coat was decent. If he could reach a table in the restaurant, the portion of him that would show above the table would raise no doubt in the waiter’s mind. A roasted duck, with a bottle of wine, a cigar and a cup of coffee would be enough. Such a dinner would make him happy, for the journey to his winter refuge.

But as Soapy entered the restaurant door, the head waiter’s eye fell upon his shabby trousers and old shoes. Strong hands pushed him in silence and haste out into the street.

Some other way of entering the desirable refuge must be found.

At a corner of Sixth Avenue Soapy took a stone and sent it through the glass of a glittering shop window. People came running around the corner, a policeman at the head of them. Soapy stood still, with his hands in his pockets, and smiled at the sight of the policeman.

“Where is the man that has done that?” asked the policeman.

“Don’t you think that I have had something to do with it?” said Soapy, friendly.

The policeman paid no attention to Soapy. Men who break windows don’t remain to speak with policemen. They run away. He saw a man running and rushed after him, stick in hand. Soapy, disgusted, walked along, twice unsuccessful.

On the opposite side of the street was a restaurant for people with large appetites and modest purses. Soapy entered this place without difficulty. He sat at a table and ate beefsteak and pie. And then he told the waiter he had no money.

“Go and call a cop,” said Soapy. “And don’t keep a gentleman waiting.”

“No cop for you,” said the waiter. “Hey!”

Then Soapy found himself lying upon his left ear on the pavement. He arose with difficulty, and beat the dust from his clothes. Arrest seemed a rosy dream. The Island seemed far away.

After another unsuccessful attempt to be arrested for harassing a young woman, Soapy went further toward the district of theatres.

When he saw a policeman standing in front of a glittering theatre, he thought of “disorderly conduct”. On the sidewalk Soapy began to sing drunken songs at the top of his voice. He danced, cried, and otherwise disturbed the peace.

The policeman turned his back to Soapy, and said to a citizen, “It is one of the Yale boys celebrating their football victory. Noisy, but no harm.”

Sadly, Soapy stopped his useless singing and dancing. The Island seemed unattainable. He buttoned his thin coat against the north wind.

In a cigar store he saw a well-dressed man who had set his silk umbrella by the door. Soapy entered the store, took the umbrella, and went out with it slowly. The man with the cigar followed hastily.

“My umbrella,” he said.

“Oh, is it?” said Soapy. “Well, why don’t you call a policeman? I took your umbrella! Why don’t you call a cop? There stands one on the corner.”

The umbrella owner slowed his steps. Soapy did likewise. The policeman looked at them curiously.

“Of course,” said the umbrella man, “well, you know how these mistakes occur…if it’s your umbrella I hope you’ll excuse me – I picked it up this morning in a restaurant – if it’s yours, I hope you’ll…”

“Of course it’s mine,” said Soapy.

The ex-umbrella man retreated. The policeman hurried to help a well-dressed woman across the street.

Soapy threw the umbrella angrily. He was angry with the men who wear helmets and carry clubs. They seemed to regard him as a king who could do no wrong.

At last Soapy stopped before an old church on a quiet corner. Through one window a soft light glowed, where, the organist played a Sunday anthem. For there came to Soapy’s ears sweet music that caught and held him at the iron fence.

The moon was shining; cars and pedestrians were few; birds twittered sleepily under the roof. And the anthem that the organist played cemented Soapy to the iron fence, for he had known it well in the days when his life contained such things as mothers and roses and ambitions and friends.

The influence of the music and the old church produced a sudden and wonderful change in Soapy’s soul. He thought of his degraded days, dead hopes and wrecked faculties.

And also in a moment a strong impulse moved him to battle with his desperate fate. He would pull himself out of this pit; he would make a man of himself again. Those sweet notes had set up a revolution in him. Tomorrow he would be somebody in the world. He would…

Soapy felt a hand on his arm. He looked quickly around into the broad face of a policeman.

“What are you doing here?”

“Nothing.”

“Then come along,” said the policeman.

“Three months on the Island,” said the Judge the next morning.

1.Soapy regarded the Island as his winter ambition because _____.

A. he wanted to go on Mediterranean voyages and enjoy blue Southern skies

B. he wanted to spend the cold winter somewhere warm other than New York

C. he wanted to be put into prison to survive the coming winter

D. he wanted to buy a ticket to the Island to spend the cold winter

2.Which of the following is the reason for Soapy’s not turning to charity?

A. His pride gets in the way.

B. What the institutions of charity offer isn’t what Soapy needs.

C. He wants to be a citizen who obeys the law.

D. The institutions of charity are not located on the island.

3. How many times did Soapy try to accomplish his desire?

A. 4.                                       B. 5.                                       C. 6.                                       D. 7.

4. From the passage, we can see what the two restaurants have in common is that _____.

A. they are both fancy upper class restaurants

B. neither of them served Soapy

C. they both drove Soapy out of the restaurant after he finished his meal

D. neither of them called cops

5.Hearing the Sunday anthem at the church, Soapy _____.

A. was reminded of his good old days and wanted to play the anthem again

B. was reminded of his unaccomplished ambition and was determined to get to the Island

C. was reminded of his disgraceful past and determined to transform himself

D. was reminded of his rosy dream and wished to realize it

6.By ending the story this way, the author means to _____.

A. show that one always gets what he/she wants with enough efforts

B. make a contrast and criticize the sick society

C. surprise readers by proving justice was done after all

D. put a tragic end to Soapy’s life and show his sympathy for Soapy

 

阅读理解

阅读下面短文，从每题所给四个选项中选出最佳答案。

　　There was one shop in the town of Mufulira which was widely known for its racial discrimination. It was a drugstore. While Europeans were served at the counter, a long line of Africans queued at the window and often not only were kept waiting but were rudely treated by the shop assistants. One day I was determined to make a public protest(抗议) against this kind of thing, and many of the schoolboys in my class followed me to the store.

　　I simply went into the shop and asked the manager politely for some medicine. As soon as he saw me standing in the place where only European customers were allowed to stand he shouted at me in a bastard(怪声怪气的) language which is only used by a boss when speaking to his servants. I stood at the counter and politely requested in English that I should be served. The manager became angry and said to me in English, “If you stand there till Christmas, I will never serve you.”

　　I went to the District Commissioner's office. I saw a young District Officer who was a friend of mine. He was very concerned to hear my story and told me that all I had to do was come to him personally and he would buy my medicine for me. I protested that that was not good enough. I asked him to accompany me back to the store and to make a protest to the manager. This he did, and I well remember him saying to the manager, “Here is Mr. Kaunda who is a responsible member of the Urban Advisory Council, and you treat him like a common servant. ” The manager of the drugstore apologized and said, “If only he had introduced himself and explained who he was, then, of course I should have given him proper service.

　　I had to explain once again that he had missed my point. Why should I have to introduce myself every time I went into a store… any more than I should have to buy my medicine by going to a European friend? I want to prove that any man of any color, whatever his position, should have the right to go into any shop and buy what he wanted. After all, the money which I paid across the counter was exactly the same money as is paid by a European customer.

1．The writer was, at the time of the story, ________.

[　　]

2．The manager of the drugstore shouted at the writer because ________.

[　　]

A．he hadn't learned to speak English

B．he thought the writer wouldn't understand English

C．that was the usual language used by Europeans when speaking to Africans

D．that was the only language he could speak when he was angry

3．Why didn't the writer wait at the window of the drugstore like other Africans?

[　　]

A．Because he thought he was educated and should be treated differently.

B．Because he thought, being an important person, he should not be kept waiting.

C．Because he thought his white friends would help him out.

D．Because he wanted to protest against racial discrimination.

       On July 22, 2007, Jay Brunkella ,a police officer in the Rogers Park district in Chicago , was shot during a drug arrest and died. Shortly afterwards, fellow officer Ken Knapcik, a 20-year veteran（老警官）of the force, returned home after work to find a note from his 15-year-old daughter on the dining table.

       Dad—this poem came directly from my heart. I love you so much! It scares and amazes me that you go out every day and risk everything to provide us with all that we have. I wrote this to express how much I love you and how much lost I’d be without you-Laura. P.S.: Hey, let’s be careful out there.

       Titled “The Last Cop”, Laura’s poem was dedicated “To all the cops in the world who have daughters who love them with all their hearts. And especially to my dad.” It was about a police-officer’s daughter who sees on the night time news that her father has been shot. Part of poem: “Daddy, my Daddy, can you hear me cry? Oh, God, I need my Daddy, please don’t let him die.”

       Ken Knapcik stood alone as he read the poem. “It took me several minutes,” he said. “I’d get through part of it and have to stop before I could go on. I was weeping. She had never told me she was scared.” He took the poem to work the next day and showed it to his fellow officers. “I’ve never seen so many grown men cry. Some couldn’t finish it.”

       Knapcik keeps Laura’s poem in the pocket of his police jacket. He takes it with him every time he leaves the house for a new shift. “I don’t want to be out there without it.” he said, “I’ll probably carry it with me forever.”

1．Laura wrote the poem ______.

A．in memory of her father who was shot in the drug arrest

B．to show her great sorrow in losing her father

C．to show her respect to all the cops who lost their lives

D．to tell officer Ken Knapcik how much she loved him

2．All the officers cried because ______.

A．Jay Brunkella was shot and died

B．they were greatly touched by the poem

C．the poem was so well written that they kept praising it

D．they thought of their dangerous life

3．Knapcik keeps Laura’s poem in his pocket ______.

A．to treasure her daughter’s love and to value his own life

B．to keep it from missing

C．because he can’t go out without it

D．to remember the death of officer Jay Brunkella

4．What is the text mainly talked about?

A．A poem for a cop.  

B．An officer’s death.

C．The daughter’s worry about father’s safety.

D．The duty of a cop.