I am beginning to wonder whether my grandmother isn’t right when she complains, as she frequently does, that children nowadays aren’t as well-behaved as they used to be. Whenever she gets the opportunity, she recounts in detail how she used to be told to respect the elders and betters. She was taught to speak only when she was spoken to, and when she went out on her own, she was reminded to say 'please' and 'thank you'. Children in her day, she continues, were expected to be seen and not heard, but these days you are lucky if you ever hear parents telling their children to mind their p’s and q’s.

       If you give her the chance, she then takes out of her drawer the old photograph album which she keeps there, and which she never tires of displaying. Of course when you look at pictures of her parents, you feel sure that, with a father as stern-looking as that, you too would have been "seen and not heard". He had a lot of neatly cut hair, long side-whiskers and a big moustache. In the photographs, he is always clutching (抓住) his coat with one hand, while in the other he holds a thin walking stick. Beside him sits his wife, with their children around her: Granny and her elder brothers. It always occurs to me that perhaps those long, stiff, black clothes were so clumsy to a little girl, that she hadn’t enough breath left to be talkative, let alone mischievous (淘气的). It must have been a dull and lonely life too, for she stayed mainly at home during her childhood, while her brothers were sent away to school from an early age. Despite their long black shorts and their serious expressions in the photographs, I always suspect that their lives were considerably more enjoyable than hers. One can imagine them telling each other to shut up or mind their own business, as soon as their parents were out of sight.

       Going to see Granny on Sundays used to be a terrible experience. We would always be warned in advance to be on our best behavior, since my mother made a great effort to show how well brought up we were, in spite of our old, comfortable clothes, our incomprehensible (to Granny) slang, and our noisy games in the garden. We had to change into what Granny described as our "Sundays best" for lunch, when we would sit uncomfortably, kicking each other under the table. We were continually being ordered to sit up straight, to take our elbows off the table, to wait till everybody had been served, not to wolf down our food, nor to talk with our mouths full. At length we would be told to ask to be excused from the table and ordered to find quiet occupations for the rest of the day. We were always very bad-tempered by the evening, and would complain angrily all the way home.

       Yet though we hated the Sunday visit, we never questioned the rules of good manners themselves. I remember being greatly shocked as a child to hear one of my friends telling her father to shut up. I knew I could never have spoken like that to my father and it would never have occurred to me to do so.

       However, my childhood was much freer than Granny’s. I went to school with my brother and I played football with him and his friends. We all spoke a common language, and we got up to the same mischief. I would have died if I had had to stay indoors, wear a tight dress, and sew.

       But I do sometimes look wistfully (惆怅地) at an old sampler which hangs in the hall, which was embroidered (刺绣) by an even more distant relative—my great-great-aunt, of whom, regrettably, no photograph remains. It was done as an example of her progress in learning. The alphabet is carefully sewn in large colored childish letters from A to Z, and below it a small verse reads:

                     Mary Saunders is my name,

                     And with my needle I worked the same,

                     That by it you may plainly see

                     What care my parents have for me.

       It must have taken that little five-year-old months and months of laborious sewing, but, in a circle in a bottom corner of the sampler, there is a line: "Be Ever Happy".

50. The writer’s grandmother will complain that ______.

  A. children used to be mischievous

  B. children behave worse than they did in the past

  C. children are often reminded of what to do

  D. children are very badly behaved

51.Visiting Granny on Sundays was a terrible experience because ______.

  A. the writer was not so well raised as she was required to pretend

  B. Granny continually warned the writer to be on her best behavior

  C. Granny was always describing the writer’s "Sunday best"

  D. the writer was always blamed for not behaving well

52. From Paragraph 4, we can infer that the writer ______.

  A. seldom spoke to her father in the way her friend did

  B. was never questioned about the rules of good manners

  C. never doubted the value of the strict rules at that time

  D. was worried that her friend’s father would be shocked

53. The writer looked wistfully at the sampler, because______.

  A. it was embroidered by a relative.

  B. she wished she could sew herself.

  C. it called to mind the values of good old days.

  D. she had no photographs of Mary Saunders.

54. By sewing "Be Ever Happy" in the sampler, Mary Saunders ______. 

  A. suggested she was unhappy then

  B. indicated happiness was hard to gain

  C. expected we would find happiness in sewing

  D. hoped happiness would be everlasting

When I was a child, our dining room had two kinds of chairs—two large ones with arm rests and four small ones without. The larger ones stood at the ends of the table, the smaller ones on the sides. Mom and Dad sat in the big chairs, except when one of us was away; then Mom would sit in one of the smaller chairs. Dad always sat at the end, at the “head” of the table. Sitting where he did, Dad was framed by the window through which the yard could be seen with its trees and grass. His chair was not just a place for him at the table; it was a place in which he was situated against the yard and trees. It was the holy （神圣的） and protected place that was his, and ours through him.

After Dad retired, he and Mom moved out into a small flat. When they came to visit me at their old house, Dad still sat at the end of the table though the table was no longer his but mine. Only with my marriage to Barbara, did I hear a voice questioning the arrangement. She requested, gently but firmly, that I sit at the head of the table in our home. I realized then that I was head of the family, but I also felt unwilling to introduce such a change. How would I feel sitting in that “head” place in my Dad’s presence? And how would he handle it? I was to find out on the occasion of our youngest child’s first birthday.

Mom and Dad arrived for lunch, and went into the dining room. Dad moved toward his usual seat in front of the window. Before he could get around the side of the table, I took a deep breath and said, “Dad, this is going to be your place, next to Mom, on the side.” He stopped, looked at me and then sat down. I felt sad, and angry at Barbara for pushing me to do this. It would have been easy to say, “My mistake, Dad. Sit where you always sit.” But I didn’t.

When he and Mom were seated, Barbara and I took our places. I don’t know how Dad felt. I do know that, though removed from his usual place, he continued to share his best self with us, telling stories of his childhood and youth to the delight of his grandchildren. As I served the food, our lives experienced a change, which we continue to live with.

It wasn’t easy, but I sense that there is also something good in the change which has occurred. I am beginning to learn that “honoring one’s father” is more than the question of which place to occupy at the dining table. It also means listening, wherever we sit and whatever positions we own, to the stories Dad longs to tell. We may then, during these magical moments, even be able to forget about whose chair is whose.

1．Where did the writer’s mother sit when one of the children was away?

    A．She didn’t change her chair.

    B．She moved her own chair next Dad’s.

    C．She moved to an empty chair on the side.

    D．She sat opposite to Dad.

2．How did the writer feel when he told his father to sit on the side?

    A．He didn’t feel bad because his father was going to sit there anyway.

    B．He felt happy at having carried out the difficult task.

    C．He was thoroughly satisfied with the new seating arrangement.

    D．He regretted what he had done and wanted to blame his wife.

3．What happened during the meal after the family had all taken their new seats?

    A．The writer’s children removed their grandfather from his usual place.

    B．The writer’s father didn’t appear to mind where he sat.

    C．The writer’s father shared his favorite dishes with the grandchildren.

    D．They became tense and nervous about their future as a family.

4．What did the writer learn about “honoring one’s father”?

    A．Fathers always long to tell stories about their early years.

    B．Providing the right chair is the only way to honor one’s father.

    C．Respect for one’s father doesn’t depend only on where he sits.

    D．The family should dine together at the same table as often as possible.

When I was a child, our dining room had two kinds of chairs―two large ones with arm rests and four small ones without. The larger ones stood at the ends of the table, the smaller ones on the sides. Mom and Dad sat in the big chairs, except when one of us was away; then Mom would sit in one of the smaller chairs. Dad always sat at the end, at the “head” of the table. Sitting where he did, Dad was framed by the window through which the yard could be seen with its trees and grass. His chair was not just a place for him at the table; it was a place in which he was situated against the yard and trees. It was the holy (神圣的) and protected place that was his, and ours through him.

After Dad retired, he and Mom moved out into a small flat. When they came to visit me at their old house. Dad still sat at the end of the table though the table was no longer his but mine. Only with my marriage to Barbara, did I hear a voice questioning the arrangement. She requested, gently but firmly, that I sit at the head of the table in our home. I realized then that I was head of the family, but I also felt unwilling to introduce such a change. How would I feel sitting in that “head” place in my Dad’s presence? And how would he handle it? I was to find out on the occasion of our youngest child’s first birthday.

Mom and Dad arrived for lunch, and went into the dining room. Dad moved toward his usual seat in front of the window. Before he could get around the side of the table, I took a deep breath and said, “Dad, this is going to be your place, next to Mom, on the side.” He stopped, looked at me and then sat down. I felt sad, and angry at Barbara for pushing me to do this. It would have been easy to say, “My mistake, Dad. Sit where you always sit.” But I didn’t.

When he and Mom were seated, Barbara and I took our places. I don’t know how Dad felt. I do know that, though removed from his usual place, he continued to share his best self with us, telling stories of his childhood and youth to the delight of his grandchildren. As I served the food, our lives experienced a change, which we continue to live with.

It wasn’t easy, but I sense that there is also something good in the change which has occurred. I am beginning to learn that “honoring one’s father” is more than the question of which place to occupy at the dining table. It also means listening, wherever we sit and whatever positions we own, to the stories Dad longs to tell. We may then, during these magical moments, even be able to forget about whose chair is whose.

48. Where did the writer’s mother sit when one of the children was away?

       A. She didn’t change her chair.                    B. She moved her own chair next Dad’s.

       C. She moved to an empty chair on the side.   D. She sat opposite to Dad.

49. How did the writer feel when he told his father to sit on the side?

       A. He didn’t feel bad because his father was going to sit there anyway.

       B. He felt happy at having carded out the difficult task.

       C. He was thoroughly satisfied with the new seating arrangement.

       D. He regretted what he had done and wanted to blame his wife.

50. What happened during the meal after the family had all taken their new seats?

       A. The writer’s children removed their grandfather from his usual place.

       B. The writer’s father didn’t appear to mind where he sat.

       C. The writer’s father shared his favorite dishes with the grandchildren.

       D. They became tense and nervous about their future as a family.

51. What did the writer learn about “honoring one’s father”?

       A. Fathers always long to tell stories about their early years.

       B. Providing the fight chair is the only way to honor one’s father.

       C. Respect for one’s father doesn’t depend only on where he sits.

       D. The family should dine together at the same table as often as possible.