以下是小编整理的情感类英语美文欣赏：一盘豌豆， 希望对你有所感触。

A Plate of Peas 一盘豌豆

My grandfather died when I was a small boy, and mygrandmother started staying with us for about sixmonths every year. She lived in a room that doubledas my father's office, which we referred to as "theback room." She carried with her a powerful aroma. Idon‘t know what kind of perfume she used, but itwas the double-barreled, ninety-proof, knockdown,render-the-victim-unconscious, moose-killingvariety. She kept it in a huge atomizer and applied itfrequently and liberally. It was almost impossible togo into her room and remain breathing for any length of time. When she would leave the houseto go spend six months with my Aunt Lillian, my mother and sisters would throw open all thewindows, strip the bed, and take out the curtains and rugs. Then they would spend severaldays washing and airing things out, trying frantically to make the pungent odor go away.

This, then, was my grandmother at the time of the infamous pea incident.

It took place at the Biltmore Hotel, which, to my eight-year-old mind, was just about the fanciesplace to eat in all of Providence. My grandmother, my mother, and I were having lunch after amorning spent shopping. I grandly ordered a salisbury steak, confident in the knowledge thatbeneath that fancy name was a good old hamburger with gravy. When brought to the table, itwas accompanied by a plate of peas. I do not like peas now. I did not like peas then. I havealways hated peas. It is a complete mystery to me why anyone would voluntarily eat peas. Idid not eat them at home. I did not eat them at restaurants. And I certainly was not about toeat them now. "Eat your peas," my grandmother said.

"Mother," said my mother in her warning voice. "He doesn‘t like peas. Leave him alone."

My grandmother did not reply, but there was a glint in her eye and a grim set to her jaw thatsignaled she was not going to be thwarted. She leaned in my direction, looked me in the eye,and uttered the fateful words that changed my life: "I'll pay you five dollars if you eat thosepeas."

I had absolutely no idea of the impending doom. I only knew that five dollars was anenormous, nearly unimaginable amount of money, and as awful as peas were, only one plate ofthem stood between me and the possession of that five dollars. I began to force the wretchedthings down my throat.

My mother was livid. My grandmother had that self-satisfied look of someone who has throwndown an unbeatable trump card. "I can do what I want, Ellen, and you can‘t stop me." Mymother glared at her mother. She glared at me. No one can glare like my mother. If there werea glaring Olympics, she would undoubtedly win the gold medal.

I, of course, kept shoving peas down my throat. The glares made me nervous, and every singlepea made me want to throw up, but the magical image of that five dollars floated before me,and I finally gagged down every last one of them. My grandmother handed me the five dollarswith a flourish. My mother continued to glare in silence. And the episode ended. Or so Ithought.

My grandmother left for Aunt Lillian's a few weeks later. That night, at dinner, my motherserved two of my all-time favorite foods, meatloaf and mashed potatoes. Along with them camea big, steaming bowl of peas. She offered me some peas, and I, in the very last moments ofmy innocent youth, declined. My mother fixed me with a cold eye as she heaped a huge pile ofpeas onto my plate. Then came the words that were to haunt me for years.

"You ate them for money," she said. "You can eat them for love."

Oh, despair! Oh, devastation! Now, too late, came the dawning realization that I hadunwittingly damned myself to a hell from which there was no escape.

"You ate them for money. You can eat them for love."

What possible argument could I muster against that? There was none. Did I eat the peas? Youbet I did. I ate them that day and every other time they were served thereafter. The five dollarswere quickly spent. My grandmother passed away a few years later. But the legacy of the peaslived on, as it lives on to this day. If I so much as curl my lip when they are served (because,after all, I still hate the horrid little things), my mother repeats the dreaded words one moretime: "You ate them for money," she says. "You can eat them for love."

下面是读文网小编整理的双语美文：将爱放飞，欢迎大家阅读!

将爱放飞

从前，有个寂寞的女孩非常渴望爱。一天，她走在丛林中，发现两只快要饿死的小鸟。她把它们带回家，放入一个小笼子。经她悉心照料，鸟儿一天天强壮起来。每天早晨，鸟儿都要用美妙的歌声向她表示问候。女孩不由得爱上了这两只小鸟。

一天，女孩敞开了鸟笼的小门。那只较大较壮的鸟儿飞出了鸟笼。女孩非常害怕鸟儿会飞走。鸟儿飞近时，她死命将它抓住。她十分高兴，终于又把它捉了回来。突然间，她感觉到鸟儿四肢无力。她张开手，惊恐地盯着手中的死鸟。她不顾一切的爱害死了鸟儿。

她注意到另一只鸟儿在笼边扑闪着翅膀。她可以感觉到它对自由的无限向往。它渴望冲向明净的蓝天。她将它举起，轻轻抛向空中。鸟儿盘旋了一圈，两圈，三圈。

看到鸟儿快乐的样子，女孩很高兴。她的内心不再计较自己的得失。她希望鸟儿幸福。突然，鸟儿飞近了，轻轻落在她的肩上，唱起了她从未听过的最动人的歌。

失去爱的方法，最快莫过于将其牢牢地抓在手心;令爱长驻的方法，最好莫过于赋予它一双翅膀——将爱放飞!

在爷爷去世后的十月，我种了一些郁金香、水仙、雪花莲、番红花及蓝铃花。每一个花苞对我来说都是一种安慰，都是给爷爷的一份爱，都是春天的一份承诺。下面是读文网小编整理的双语美文：春天的承诺，欢迎大家阅读!

Early in the spring, about a month before my grandpa's stroke, I began walking for an hourevery afternoon. Some days I would walk four blocks south to see Grandma and Grandpa. Ateighty-six, Grandpa was still quite a gardener, so I always watched for his earliest blooms andeach new wave of spring flowers.

I was especially interested in flowers that year because I was planning to landscape my ownyard and I was eager to get Grandpa's advice. I thought I knew pretty much what I wanted — ayard full of bushes and plants that would bloom from May till November.

It was right after the first rush of purple violets in the lawns and the sudden blaze of forsythiathat spring that Grandpa had a stroke. It left him without speech and with no movement onhis left side. The whole family rallied to Grandpa. We all spent many hours by his side. Somedays his eyes were eloquent — laughing at our reported mishaps, listening alertly, revealingpainful awareness of his inability to care for himself. There were days, too, when he sleptmost of the time, overcome with the weight of his approaching death.

As the months passed, I watched the growing earth with Grandpa's eyes. Each time I was withhim, I gave him a garden report. He listened, gripping my hand with the sure strength andcalm he had always had. But he could not answer my questions. The new flowers would blaze,peak, fade, and die before I knew their names.

Grandpa's illness held him through the spring and on, week by week, through summer. I beganspending hours at the local nursery, studying and choosing seeds and plants. It gave mespecial joy to buy plants I had seen in Grandpa's garden and give them humble starts in myown garden. I discovered Sweet William, which I had admired for years in Grandpa's gardenwithout knowing its name. And I planted it in his honor.

As I waited and watched in the garden and by Grandpa's side, some quiet truths emerged. Irealized that Grandpa loved flowers that were always bloom; he kept a full bed of roses in hisgarden. But I noticed that Grandpa left plenty of room for the brief highlights. Not every nookof his garden was constantly in bloom. There was always a treasured surprise tuckedsomewhere.

I came to see, too, that Grandpa's garden mirrored his life. He was a hard worker whounderstood the law of the harvest. But along with his hard work, Grandpa knew how to enjoyeach season, each change. We often teased him about his life history. He had written twoparagraphs summarizing fifty years of work, and a full nine pages about every trip and vacationhe'd ever taken.

In July, Grandpa worsened. One hot afternoon arrived when no one else was at his bedside. Hewas glad to have me there, and reached out his hand to pull me close.

I told Grandpa what I had learned — that few flowers last from April to November. Some of themost beautiful bloom for only a month at most. To really enjoy a garden, you have to plantcorners and drifts and rows of flowers that will bloom and grace the garden, each in its ownseason.

His eyes listened to every word. Then, another discovery: "If I want a garden like yours,Grandpa, I'm going to have to work." His grin laughed at me, and his eyes teased me.

"Grandpa, in your life right now the chrysanthemums are in bloom. Chrysanthemums androses." Tears clouded both our eyes. Neither of us feared this last flower of fall, but the wait forspring seems longest in November. We knew how much we would miss each other.

Sitting there, I suddenly felt that the best gift I could give Grandpa would be to give voice tothe testimony inside both of us. He had never spoken of his testimony to me, but it was sucha part of his life that I had never questioned if Grandpa knew. I knew he knew.

"Grandpa," I began — and his grip tightened as if he knew what I was going to say — "I wantyou to know that I have a testimony. I know the Savior lives. I bear witness to you thatJoseph Smith is a prophet. I love the Restoration and joy in it." The steadiness in Grandpa'seyes told how much he felt it too. "I bear witness that President Kimball is a prophet. I knowthe Book of Mormon is true, Grandpa. Every part of me bears this witness."

"Grandpa," I added quietly, "I know our Father in Heaven loves you." Unbidden, unexpected,the Spirit bore comforting, poignant testimony to me of our Father's love for my humble,quiet Grandpa.

A tangible sense of Heavenly Father's compassionate awareness of Grandpa's sufferingsurrounded us and held us. It was so personal and powerful that no words were left to me —only tears of gratitude and humility, tears of comfort.

Grandpa and I wept together.

It was the end of August when Grandpa died, the end of summer. As we were choosing flowersfrom the florist for Grandpa's funeral, I slipped away to Grandpa's garden and walked with mymemories of columbine and Sweet William. Only the tall lavender and white phlox were in bloomnow, and some baby's breath in another corner.

On impulse, I cut the prettiest strands of phlox and baby's breath and made one morearrangement for the funeral. When they saw it, friends and family all smiled to see Grandpa'sflowers there. We all felt how much Grandpa would have liked that.

The October after Grandpa's death, I planted tulip and daffodil bulbs, snowdrops, crocuses,and bluebells. Each bulb was a comfort to me, a love sent to Grandpa, a promise of spring.

早春时节，大约在爷爷中风前的一个月，我开始每天下午散步一个小时。有些日子，我会步行向南穿过四个街区去看望爷爷奶奶。八十六岁的爷爷仍然是一个杰出的花匠，因此我总是观察着他最早盛开的花，以及一片又一片春的花海。

那年，我打算把自己的小院美化一下，因此对花特别感兴趣，期望能够得到爷爷的指导。我以为自己知道究竟需要什么——满院子花草树木，从五月一直开到十一月。

那年春天，就是在草坪里第一丛紫罗兰和突然盛开的鲜艳连翘出现后，爷爷得了中风。他嘴巴不能说话了，身体的左半部分也不能动。家里所有人都来看望爷爷，我们都花了大量的时间陪在他身边。有几天，他眼睛很有神——笑我们所汇报来的不幸，听我们说话也很机警，并说他不能料理自己心里感觉很痛苦。有时候，他一整天都出在睡眠的状态，而且体重也有所增加，随时可能有生命危险。

随着时间的推移，几个月过去了。我像爷爷一样望着地上长出来的东西。每次我和他在一起，我都要向他汇报一下花园的情况。他一边听着，一边用平静地用他一贯的力量紧握着我的手。然而，他无法回答我的问题。因此，很多花朵绽放、憔悴、凋谢和死亡，我甚至都不知道他们的名字。

从春季开始，爷爷就一直受疾病的折磨，一直持续到夏季。我开始料理当地的苗圃，研究选择种子和植株。我买了些曾在爷爷的花园里见过的树木，尽心尽力地种在了我自己的花园里，这给我带来很特别的快乐。我在爷爷的花园里发现了我喜欢多年的美洲石竹，以前一直不知道它的名字，现在我以爷爷的名誉栽下了它。

当我守护在爷爷身边的时候，一些真理静静地涌现。我知道爷爷深爱着那些繁盛的花草;在他的花园里，他种了一苗圃的玫瑰。不过，我也发现爷爷留了很多空地方，只为了能够让光线照进来。花园里并不是每个角落都经常有花开放，但总有一个接一个的惊喜从某个地方冒出来。

我也发现爷爷的花园是他一生的真实写照。他是一个勤劳的工人，他理解收获的规律。但是说起他的辛勤劳动，他又是一个知道如何享受四季和变化的人，我们经常拿他的过去开玩笑。他写了两段文字概述了他五十年的工作。其中，足足有九页文字记载的是他的每次旅行和假期。

七月，爷爷的病情恶化了。有一天下午天气很炎热，没有人在爷爷身边。只有我在，他很高兴，就伸出他的手把我抱得紧紧的。

我把我所学到的告诉了爷爷——很少有花能从五月开到十一月，绝大多部分花最多开一个月。为了真正达到欣赏花园的目的，你必须在每个角落都种上花，丛丛花儿开放，把花园装扮得非常漂亮，每个角落都有四季。

他用眼睛认真地倾听着我的每句话，另一个发现是：“爷爷，如果我想要我的花园像你的花园话，我必须去工作。”他对着我笑，漏出了牙齿，眼神也在嬉笑我。

“爷爷，现在菊花正在开放，菊花和玫瑰花都在开放。”我们俩的眼里都盈满了泪花，我们都不害怕最后一朵花凋谢，但在十一月等待春天未免有点太长了，我们都知道我们会非常想念对方的。

我坐在那里，突然感到我能给爷爷的最好礼物是说出我们之间的承诺。他从来没有对我说起他的承诺，但我从来没有质疑过的就是他人生中的这一部分，如果爷爷知道的话。我知道他所知道的。

“爷爷，”我开始说——他嘴唇紧闭，好像知道我要说什么似的——“我想要你知道我有一个承诺。我知道救世主是存在的，我向你作证约瑟夫•史密斯是个预言家。我爱王政复辟时代，也很希望能加入它。”爷爷坚定的眼神也告诉了我他也有如此强烈的感受。“我向你作证金博尔总统是一个预言家。爷爷，我知道《魔门经》是真的，我拿整个人来向你作证。”

“爷爷，”我语气平和地又说了一句，“我知道我们的上帝是爱你的。”我爷爷地位卑微，但人很平和，我不假思索地意外地想到这种精神给我带来了上帝对爷爷的热爱。

上帝对爷爷所遭受的苦难表示了很大的同情，这种意识一直环绕和支持着我们。这种自我意识是如此有力，以至我无法用语言将其描述——只有感恩和谦恭，还有安慰的泪水。

爷爷和我都流下了眼泪。

八月底，也是夏季即将过去的时候，爷爷还是走了。当大家在花店为爷爷的葬礼选择葬花时，我悄悄地离开来到爷爷的花园。走在花园里，回忆着那些耧斗菜和美洲石竹，现在只有熏衣草和白色夹竹桃在开花，另一个角落里还开放着一些满天星。

一时心血来潮，我把最漂亮的几束夹竹桃和满天星剪了下来，给爷爷葬礼增添了一份装扮。看到这些花的时候，亲友们都因为看到爷爷的花而露出微笑。我们都知道爷爷一定会很喜欢那些花儿的。

在爷爷去世后的十月，我种了一些郁金香、水仙、雪花莲、番红花及蓝铃花。每一个花苞对我来说都是一种安慰，都是给爷爷的一份爱，都是春天的一份承诺。

下面是读文网小编整理的双语美文：片刻的欢乐，欢迎大家阅读!

A Moment of Joy

Twenty years ago, I drove a cab for a living. It was a cowboy’s life, a life for someone whowanted no boss.

What I did not realize was that it was also a ministry. Because I drove the night shift, my cabbecame a moving confessional. Passengers climbed in, sat behind me in total anonymity, andtold me about their lives. I encountered people whose lives amazed me, ennobled me, made melaugh and weep.

But none touched me more than a woman I picked up late one August night.

I was responding to a call from a small brick fourplex in a quiet part of town. I assumed I wasbeing sent to pick up some people who had been partying, or someone who had just had afight with a lover, or a worker heading to an early shift at some factory for the industrial partof town.

When I arrived at 2:30 a.m., the building was dark except for a single light in a ground floorwindow. Under such circumstances, many drivers just honk once or twice, wait a minute, thendrive away. But I had seen too many impoverished people who depended on taxis as their onlymeans of transpor- tation.

Unless a situation smelled of danger, I always went to the door.

This passenger might be someone who needs my assistance, I reasoned to myself. So I walkedto the door and knocked. “Just a minute,” answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hearsomething being dragged across the floor. After a long pause, the door opened. A small womanin her 80s stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinnedon it, like somebody out of a 1940s movie. By her side was a small nylon suitcase.

The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered withsheets. There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In thecorner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware.

“Would you carry my bag out to the car?” she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, thenreturned to assist the woman. She took my arm, and we walked slowly toward the curb.

She kept thanking me for my kindness. “It’s nothing,” I told her. “I just try to treat mypassengers the way I would want my mother treated.” “Oh, you’re such a good boy,” she said.

When we got in the cab, she gave me an address, then asked, “Can you drive throughdowntown?” “It’s not the shortest way,” I answered quickly. “Oh, I don’t mind,” she said. “I’m inno hurry. I’m on my way to a hospice.” I looked in the rearview mirror. Her eyes wereglistening. “I don’t have any family left,” she continued. “The doctor says I don’t have verylong.”

I quietly reached over and shut off the meter. “What route would you like me to take?” I asked.

For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she hadonce worked as an elevator operator. We drove through the neighborhood where she and herhusband had lived when they were newlyweds. She had me pull up in front of a furniturewarehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.

Sometimes she’d ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sitstaring into the darkness, saying nothing.

As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, “I’m tired. Let’s go now.”

We drove in silence to the address she had given me.

It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under aportico. Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous andintent, watching her every move. They must have been expecting her.

I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated ina wheelchair.

“How much do I owe you?” she asked, reaching into her purse.

“Nothing,” I said.

“You have to make a living,” she answered.

“There are other passengers,” I responded.

Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto me tightly.

“You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,” she said. “Thank you.”

I squeezed her hand, then walked into the dim morning light. Behind me, a door shut. It wasthe sound of the closing of a life.

I didn’t pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly, lost in thought. For the restof that day, I could hardly talk.

What if that woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who was impatient to end his shift?What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?

On a quick review, I don’t think that I have done anything more important in my life.

We’re conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments. But great momentsoften catch us unaware - beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one. Peoplemay not remember exactly what you did, or what you said... but they will always remember howyou made them feel.

Take a moment to stop and appre- ciate the memories you have made, the memory makingopportunies around you and make someone feel special today.

二十年前，我以开出租车为生。这是一种富有冒险精神的生活，适合那些不想受老板管制的人。

开始我没有意识到它也是一种牧师职业。由于我上夜班，我的出租车就成为一辆流动的忏悔室。乘客们爬进车里，坐在我后面，素不相识，然后给我讲述他们的生活。我遇到过很多人，有些人的生活让我感到惊奇，有些人的生活让我肃然起敬，有些人带给我欢笑和哭泣。

然而最使我感动的，是在八月的一个晚上乘车的一位老妇人。

我正在接电话，是从一座砖造的四套公寓住宅小楼打来的，位于城镇一个安静的区域。我想可能是我让去那里接一些参加舞会的人，或者刚与爱人打过架的人，或者要去城镇工业区的某个工厂赶早班的工人。

凌晨两点半我赶到的时候，楼里除了第一层窗户那儿亮着一盏孤灯外，漆黑一片。在这种情况下，很多司机都是按一两下喇叭，等一会儿，然而就开车离开了。但我见过太多穷困的人们，他们把出租车作为唯一的交通工具。

除非嗅到危险的气氛，我总是走到门前。

乘客也许需要我的帮助，我这样为自己找理由。因此我走到门前，敲门。“请等一下。”回答的是一个虚弱而苍老的声音。我能听到在地板上拖着东西的声音，过了好一会，门开了。一位80多岁的弱小老妇人站在我面前。她穿着印花外套，戴着别有面纱的筒状女帽，就像从四十年代的电影里走出来的人。她身旁是一个小型的尼龙手提箱。

这座公寓看上去好像很多年没人住过了，所有的家具都用布蒙着，墙上没有挂钟，柜台上也没有任何装饰物或家用器具。墙角放着一个纸箱，里面堆满了照片和玻璃器皿。

“你能帮我把包拿到车上吗?”她说。我把箱子放到车上，又回来搀扶老妇人。她挽住我的胳膊，我们慢慢走到车旁。

她不停地感谢我的好心。“没什么，”我说，“我想要别人这样对待我的母亲，我就得尽力这样对待我的乘客。”“哦，你真是个好孩子。”她说。

当我们坐进车里，她递给我一个地址，然后又问道：“你能从城镇中心穿过去吗?”“那不是最近的路。”我很快回答。“哦，没关系，”她说，“我不急着赶路，我就要去救济院了。” 我从后视镜看了看，她的眼睛在闪着光。她继续说着：“我没有任何家人了，医生说我活不长了。”

我轻轻地伸手关掉了计量表。“您想让我走哪条路线?”我问。

接下来的两个小时，我们开车穿过了整个城市。她指给我看当年她作电梯操作员的那座大厦，她和她的新婚丈夫当年生活过的小区，她让我在一家家具商店前面停车，那儿以前是个舞厅，她还是个小姑娘时常去那儿跳舞。

有时经过一个特殊的大楼或角落时她会让我放慢车速，她会坐在那里瞪着夜空，默默无言。

当第一缕阳光打破了地平线，她突然说：“我累了，咱们现在就走吧。”

我们默默地驱车向她给我的那个地址驶去。

那是一座低矮的楼房，就像一个小疗养院，在门廊的下面有一条车道。我们刚停车，就有两个护理员出来向我们走来。她们关切而热心地注视着她的举动，看样子一定是在等着她的到来。

我打开车尾的行李箱，把她的手提箱提到门口。老妇人已经坐进轮椅里。

“我该给你多少钱?”她边说边把手伸进钱包。

“不用了，”我说。

“你得谋生呢，”她说。

“还有其他的乘客，”我回答。

几乎想也没想，我弯下腰来给了她一个拥抱。她也紧紧地抱着我。

“你给了一个老妇人片刻的欢乐，”她说，“谢谢你。”

我轻轻地握了握她的手，便走进了微弱的晨光中。门在我身后关上了。这也是生命关闭的声音。

那晚我没有拉其他的乘客。我漫无方向地开着车，陷入沉思中。那天其余的时间，我几乎说不出话。

如果那位老妇人碰到一位狂暴的司机，或者急着结束晚班的司机，那会怎么样呢?如果我拒绝跑这趟车，或者只是按一声喇叭，便开车离开，那又会怎么样呢?

匆忙回顾了一下，我认为我做了一件生命中再重要不过的事情。

我们习惯性地认为我们的生命中有一些重大的时刻，然而重大的时刻往往在不经意时降临到我们身上--也许在别人眼中是小事，但它有着美丽的包装。人们可能不会完全记住你所做的事，或者你所说的话……但他们却会永远记住你带给他们的感觉。

花上片刻的时间，静静地欣赏一下你的回忆，那些为周围的人创造了机会的回忆，那些使他人今天仍然感觉特别的回忆。

下面是读文网小编整理的英语美文：Magical coat，希望对大家有帮助。

My l4-year-old son, John, and I spotted the coat simultaneously. It was hanging on a rack ata secondhand clothing store in Northampton Mass, crammed in with shoddy trench coats andan assortment of sad, woolen overcoats -- a rose among thorns.

While the other coats drooped, this one looked as if it were holding itself up. The thick, blackwool of the double-breasted chesterfield was soft and unworn, as though it had beenpreserved in mothballs for years in dead old Uncle Henry's steamer trunk. The coat had ablack velvet collar, beautiful tailoring, a Fifth Avenue label and an unbelievable price of $28. Welooked at each other, saying nothing, but John's eyes gleamed. Dark, woolen topcoats werepopular just then with teenage boys, but could cost several hundred dollars new. This coatwas even better, bearing that touch of classic elegance from a bygone era.

John slid his arms down into the heavy satin lining of the sleeves and buttoned the coat. Heturned from side to side, eyeing himself in the mirror with a serious, studied expression thatsoon changed into a smile. The fit was perfect.

John wore the coat to school the next day and came home wearing a big grin. "Ho. did the kidslike your coat?" I asked. "They loved it," he said, carefully folding it over the back of a chair andsmoothing it flat. I started calling him "Lord Chesterfield" and "The Great Gatsby."

Over the next few weeks, a change came over John. Agreement replaced contrariness, quiet,reasoned discussion replaced argument. He became more judicious, more mannerly, morethoughtful, eager to please. "Good dinner, Mom," he would say every evening.

He would generously loan his younger brother his tapes and lecture him on the niceties ofbehaviour; without a word of objection, he would carry in wood for the stove. One day when Isuggested that he might start on homework before dinner, John -- a veteran procrastinator -said, "You're right. I guess I will."

When I mentioned this incident to one of his teachers and remarked that I didn't know whatcaused the changes, she said laughing. "It must be his coat!" Another teacher told him she wasgiving him a good mark not only because he had earned it but because she liked his coat. At thelibrary, we ran into a friend who had not seen our children in a long time, "Could this be John?"he asked, looking up to John's new height, assessing the cut of his coat and extending hishand, one gentleman to another.

John and I both know we should never mistake a person's clothes for the real person withinthem. But there is something to be said for wearing a standard of excellence for the world tosee, for practising standards of excellence in though, speech, and behaviour, and for matchingwhat is on the inside to what is on the outside.

Sometimes, watching John leave for school, I've remembered with a keen sting what it felt liketo be in the eighth grade -- a time when it was as easy to try on different approaches to life asit was to try on a coat. The whole world, the whole future is stretched out ahead, a vastpanorama where all the doors are open. And if I were there right now, I would picture myselfwalking through those doors wearing my wonderful, magical coat.

她的泪水把信纸全弄湿了。后来一天，有人问起她，“盐咖啡味道怎样?”“味道好极了!” 她回答。下面是读文网小编整理的双语美文：盐咖啡，欢迎大家阅读!

The Salty Coffee

He met her at a party. She was so outstanding, many guys chasing after her, while he was sonormal, nobody paid attention to him.

At the end of the party, he invited her to have coffee with him, she was surprised but due tobeing polite, she promised. They sat in a nice coffee shop, he was too nervous to say anything,she felt uncomfortable, and she thought to herself, “Please, let me go home...”

Suddenly he asked the waiter, “Would you please give me some salt? I’d like to put it in mycoffee.” Everybody stared at him, so strange! His face turned red but still, he put the salt in hiscoffee and drank it. She asked him curiously, “Why you have this hobby?” He replied, “When Iwas a little boy, I lived near the sea, I liked playing in the sea, I could feel the taste of the sea,just like the taste of the salty coffee. Now every time I have the salty coffee, I always think ofmy childhood, think of my hometown, I miss my hometown so much, I miss my parents whoare still living there.” While saying that tears filled his eyes. She was deeply touched. That’s histrue feeling, from the bottom of his heart. A man who can tell out his homesickness, he mustbe a man who loves home, cares about home, has responsibility of home... Then she alsostarted to speak, spoke about her faraway hometown, her childhood, her family.

That was a really nice talk, also a beautiful beginning of their story. They continued to date. Shefound that actually he was a man who meets all her demands; he had tolerance, was kindhearted, warm, careful. He was such a good person but she almost missed him! Thanks to hissalty coffee! Then the story was just like every beautiful love story, the princess married to theprince, and then they were living the happy life... And, every time she made coffee for him, sheput some salt in the coffee, as she knew that’s the way he liked it.

After 40 years, he passed away, left her a letter which said, “My dearest, please forgive me,forgive my whole life’s lie. This was the only lie I said to you - the salty coffee. Remember thefirst time we dated? I was so nervous at that time, actually I wanted some sugar, but I saidsalt. It was hard for me to change so I just went ahead. I never thought that could be the startof our communication! I tried to tell you the truth many times in my life, but I was too afraidto do that, as I have promised not to lie to you for anything... Now I’m dying, I afraid ofnothing so I tell you the truth, I don’t like the salty coffee, what a strange bad taste... But Ihave had the salty coffee for my whole life! Since I knew you, I never feel sorry for anything Ido for you. Having you with me is my biggest happiness for my whole life. If I can live for thesecond time, still want to know you and have you for my whole life, even though I have to drinkthe salty coffee again.”

Her tears made the letter totally wet. Someday, someone asked her, “What’s the taste of saltycoffee?” She replied, “It’s sweet.”

Pass this to everyone because love is not to forget but to forgive, not to see but understand,not to hear but to listen, not to let go but HOLD ON!!!

在一个舞会上他遇见她，她那么出众，许多男孩追求她。他却这么普通，没人注意他。

舞会结束后，他邀请她去喝咖啡，她有些惊奇，但，出于礼貌，还是答应了他。他们坐在一家典雅的咖啡厅，他非常紧张，她却并不觉得浪漫，一心在想，“ 请让我回家吧……”

突然他对服务员说，“请给我一点盐好吗? 我要把它加在我的咖啡里。” 咖啡厅里每个人都惊奇地看着他。他的脸红了，却很镇静。他把盐放入咖啡中，并喝咖啡。她好奇地问他，“你怎么有这样的嗜好?” 他回答，“ 小时候我住得离大海很近，我喜欢在海里玩，感觉大海的滋味，就象这盐咖啡的味道。现在，每当我喝盐咖啡，我总是想起我的童年，我的故乡，我思念我依然生活在那里的父母。” 他说到这些，眼泪涌了出来。她深深地感动了，

那是发自他心底的真情一个能够说出思乡病的男人，一定是一个爱家，对家有责任感的人……随后，她也开始说起自己遥远的家乡，她的童年，她的家庭。

那真是一次美好的约会，也是他们故事的一个美丽开端。从那以后，他们继续约会。她发现事实上他是一个能满足她要求的男人：他善良，善于忍受，给人以温暖，又心细。他真是一个好人，她有时非常思念起他来! 真要谢谢他的盐咖啡!

后来，正像每一个美丽的爱情故事，这个公主嫁给了这个王子。他们过着幸福的生活……并且，每次为他煮咖啡，她都加上盐，因为他喜欢。

四十年后他去世了，留给她一封信，信中写道，“亲爱的，请原谅我。原谅我这说了一生的谎言。这是我对你唯一撒谎的一次---就是盐咖啡。记得第一次约会吗，那时我太紧张了，其实我想要一些糖，但却说成了盐。当时我觉得难以改口，只好顺其自然，却怎么也没想到那会是我们交往的开始! 在后来有许多次，我都想告诉你事实真相，但是我有点害怕，因为答应过你事事要说真话。现在我快要去了，我不怕了。所以告诉你，我不喜欢盐咖啡，那味道真是差极了……但是我却喝了一生。自从我认识你，为你做的事，我从不后悔。在我一生中，拥有你是我最大的幸福。如果我能活第二回，我仍想与你结识，并和你在一起，即使再让我喝盐咖啡。”

她的泪水把信纸全弄湿了。后来一天，有人问起她，“盐咖啡味道怎样?”“味道好极了!” 她回答。

下面是读文网小编整理的双语美文：一见钟情，欢迎大家阅读!

Love You

That was a late October evening, the very first day that I ever saw you. Love at first site youmay say. What a feelings. I knew right then that I will be spending rest of my life with you. I stillremember the very first smile in your face, looking down to me from your balcony. WOW, howcould I forget that?

That was the year 2003, my very first year in Dhaka University. Life was wonderful, lots of funat the university and home, in the old town of Dhaka. Just came out of all male college. Got thefreedom of my life. No restriction from home, I can come home whenever I like or do whateverI want to do. Just like a bird, no limit.

To be honest, until that ate October day, I did not a have any female friends. So you can forgetabout a girlfriend. I was very shy and always nervous when surrounded women. But thatafternoon, a RED piece of thin cloth (Orna) just changed all that.

I was walking down the street, just enjoying a wonderful late afternoon. All of a sudden, a pieceof cloth just dropped on me, covering my whole upper body. I got surprised and uncovermyself. Look around me and then looked up. There you were standing on your first floorbalcony and laughing at me. That was the first time I have ever seen someone that pretty.

I am sorry — you said with big smile in your face.

My “orna” just dropped out, would you mind to hold on to it I am coming down.

No word out of my mouth. Is this really happening to me. Did she said that she is comingdown.

I look around nervously. Should I just wait or should I leave. Where do I go. I see a little stairgoing from the street to the down stair of that house. I looked in by extending my head.Should I go in?

Before I decide I see you standing by the door. Just 5 feet away, with a great smile on yourface.

Sorry for that, could I have my “Orna” please — you said.

Sure, Sure, here it is — I replied with a very nervous voice.

I step up to her and hand over her “Orna”.

Thanks, do you live around here? You asked.

Yes — I said.

Thanks again. I will see you again.

I nod my head with agreement.

That was my first conversation with you and for sure was not the last. My first love — I loveyou.

那是在十月下旬的一天傍晚，也就是我看见你的第一天。你可能就会在第一次见面的地方谈起爱情，不同凡响的爱情。我当时就知道我会和你一起共度余的。我还记得你从阳台上向下看我时第一次笑的样子。天哪，我怎么能够忘记?

那是2003那年，正是我在达卡大学上学的第一年。在达卡这个老城，学校和家都有很多有趣的事，生活是如此地美好。学校里都是男生，生活有了自由，没有了在家的限制，我可以想什么时候回家就回家，想做什么事就做什么事，就像一只小鸟，没有限制。

说实在话，那个十月底的那天之前，我连一个女朋友也没有，因此，关于女朋友的事情，你就不要想了。围着女人转，我总是紧张害羞。但是，那天下午，一块轻薄的红色布就改变了所有的一切。

我正走在大街上，欣赏着傍晚美景。突然，一块布掉在我身上。把我的上半身盖住了，把我吃了一惊，把布揭掉，打量下我，又抬头向上望了望， 看见你站在一层阳台上在朝我笑。那是我第一次看见这么漂亮的人。

抱歉——你说话时笑容很灿烂。

我的“布”刚掉下，我下来取你不介意吧?

我没有说一句话，这事我的真的碰上了吗?她是在说她要下来吗?我神经兮兮地环顾下四方。我是应该等她还是马上走开?我向哪去啊?我发现有一段通向她们家楼下的窄楼梯，我伸伸头向里面探望了一下，我该进去吗?

就在我下定决心来看你的那一刻，你站在门口，离我仅五步之遥，我看见你笑容非常的灿烂迷人。

很抱歉把布掉在你身上了，能还给我吗?——你说。

当然，当然可以，就这个——我重复话时声音非常紧张。我迈到她跟前把布交给她。

谢谢，你住在这附近吗?你问道。

是的——我回答道。

再次感谢。那我会再次看见你的。

我点头称是。

那是我与你的第一次交流，当然并不是最后一次。我的初恋——我爱你。

在英语考试的听力中，英语情景对话是必考的一类问题，今天读文网小编在这里为大家分享一些英语日常对话短文，希望对大家有所帮助!

英语日常对话短文： I Couldn’t Agree More.我完全同意

A: Jim, how was your weekend?吉姆，你的周末过得怎么样?

B: I went to the beach with my friends and had a barbecue there.我跟朋友去海滩玩了，还在那儿吃了烧烤。

A: That sounds like a lot of fun. Did you go swimming, too?那一定很好玩。你们也游泳了吧?

B: Sure. I think it’s a fantastic place to go.当然。我觉得那是个好去处。

A: I couldn’t agree more. That’s an ideal place for a vacation.我完全同意。那是个理想的度假场所。

B: It sure is.当然。

A: I can’t wait to go there myself.我都巴不得亲自到那儿去玩玩。

A: Beautiful weather, isn’t it? 今天天气不错，是不是?

B: Yes, it is. Are you here on business?是的，的确不错。你来这儿出差吗?

A: No, I’m on a vacation to see the famous Three Gorges. 不，我休假去著名的三峡旅游。

B: I’m going there for a tour, too. Is this your first trip to China?

我也是去游三峡的。你这是第一次来中国吗? A: Yes, it is. 是的。

B: Why don’t we go together? I can show you around. I think you’ll have a better time.我们何不结伴而行呢?我可以带你到处走走。我想你会玩得更开心的 A: I couldn’t agree more.我完全同意。

B: Great, let’s go!太好了，走吧!

下面是读文网小编整理的双语美文：狼的传说，欢迎大家阅读!

A Wolf’s Tale

With all her big brothers and sisters off to school, our ranch became a lonely place for our three-year-old daughter, Becky. She longed for playmates. Cattle and horses were too big to cuddle andfarm machinery dangerous for a child so small. We promised to buy her a puppy but in themeantime, “Pretend” puppies popped up nearly every day.

I had just finished washing the lunch dishes when the screen door slammed and Becky rushedin, cheeks flushed with excitement. “Mama!” she cried, “Come see my new doggy! I gave him watertwo times already. He’s so thirsty!”

I sighed, another of Becky’s imaginary dogs.

“Please come, Mama.” She tugged at my jeans, her brown eyes pleading, “He’s crying — andhe can’t walk!”

“Can’t walk?” Now that was a twist. All her previous make-believe dogs could do marvelousthings. One balanced a ball on the end of its nose. Another dug a hole that went all the way throughthe earth and fell out on a star on the other side. Still another danced on a tightrope. Why suddenlya dog that couldn’t walk?

“All right, honey,” I said. By the time I tried to follow her, Becky had already disappeared into themesquite.

“Where are you?” I called.

“Over here by the oak stump. Hurry, Mama!”

I parted the thorny branches and raised my hand against the glare of the Arizona sun. Anumbing chill gripped me. There she was, sitting on her heels, toes dug firmly in the sand, andcradled in her lap was the unmistakable head of a wolf! Beyond its head rose massive blackshoulders. The rest of the body lay completely hidden inside the hollow stump of a fallen oak.

“Becky,” My mouth felt dry. “Don’t move.” I stepped closer. Pale-yellow eyes narrowed. Blacklips tightened, exposing double sets of two-inch fangs. Suddenly the wolf trembled. Its teeth clacked,and a piteous whine rose from its throat.

“It’s all right, boy,” Becky crooned. “Don’t be afraid. That’s my mama, and she loves you, too.”

Then the unbelievable happened. As her tiny hands stroked the great shaggy head, I heard thegentle thump, thump, thumping of the wolf’s tail from deep inside the stump. What was wrong withthe animal? I wondered. Why couldn’t he get up? I couldn’t tell. Nor did I dare to step any closer.

I glanced at the empty water bowl. My memory flashed back to the five skunks that last weekhad torn the burlap from a leaking pipe in a frenzied effort to reach water during the final agonies ofrabies. Of course! Rabies! Warning signs had been posted all over the county, and hadn’t Becky said, “He’s so thirsty?” I had to get Becky away.

“Honey,” My throat tightened. “Put his head down and come to Mama. We’ll go find help.”

Reluctantly, Becky got up and kissed the wolf on the nose before she walked slowly into myoutstretched arms. Sad yellow eyes followed her. Then the wolf’s head sank to the ground. WithBecky safe in my arms, I ran to the barns where Brian, one of our cowhands, was saddling up tocheck heifers in the North pasture. “Brian! Come quickly. Becky found a wolf in the oak stump nearthe wash! I think it has rabies!”

“I’ll be there in a jiffy,” he said as I hurried back to the house, eager to put Becky down for hernap. I didn’t want her to see Brian come out of the bunkhouse. I knew he’d have a gun.

“But I want to give my doggy his water,” she cried. I kissed her and gave her some stuffedanimals to play with.

“Honey, let Mom and Brian take care of him for now,” I said. Moments later, I reached the oakstump.

Brian stood looking down at the beast. “It’s a Mexican lobo, all right.” He said, “And a big one!”

The wolf whined. Then we both caught the smell of gangrene. “Whew! It’s not rabies,” Briansaid. “But he’s sure hurt real bad. Don’t you think it’s best I put him out of his misery?”

The word “yes” was on my lips, when Becky emerged from the bushes. “Is Brian going to makehim well, Mama?” She hauled the animal’s head onto her lap once more, and buried her face in thecoarse, dark fur. This time I wasn’t the only one who heard the thumping of the lobo’s tail.

That afternoon my husband, Bill, and our veterinarian came to see the wolf. Observing the trustthe animal had in our child, Doc said to me, “Suppose you let Becky and me tend to this fellatogether.” Minutes later, as child and vet reassured the stricken beast, the hypodermic found itsmark. The yellow eyes closed.

“He’s asleep now,” said the vet. “Give me a hand here, Bill.” They hauled the massive body outof the stump. The animal must have been over five feet long and well over a hundred pounds.Bullets had mutilated the wolf’s hip and leg. Doc did what he had to in order to clean the wound andthen gave the patient a dose of penicillin. Next day he returned and inserted a metal rod toreplace the missing bone.

“Well, it looks like you’ve got yourselves a Mexican lobo,” Doc said. “He looks to be about threeyears old, and even as pups, they don’t tame real easy. I’m amazed at the way this big fella tookto your little girl. But often there’s something that goes on between children and animals that wegrownups don’t understand.”

Becky named the wolf Ralph and carried food and water to the stump every day. Ralph’srecovery was not easy. For three months he dragged his injured hindquarters by clawing the earthwith his front paws. From the way he lowered his eyelids when we massaged the limbs, we knew heendured excruciating pain, but not once did he ever try to bite the hands of those who cared forhim.

Four months to the day, Ralph finally stood unaided. His huge frame shook as long-unusedmuscles were activated. Bill and I patted and praised him. But it was Becky to whom he turned for agentle word, a kiss or a smile. He responded to these gestures of love by swinging his busy tail likea pendulum. As his strength grew, Ralph followed Becky all over the ranch.

Together they roamed the desert pastures, the golden-haired child often stooping low, sharingwith the great lame wolf whispered secrets of nature’s wonders. When evening came, he returnedlike a silent shadow to his hollow stump that had surely become his special place.

As time went on, although he lived primarily in the brush, the habits of this timid creatureendeared him more and more to all of us. His reaction to people other than our family was yetanother story. Strangers terrified him, yet his affection for and protectiveness of Becky brought himout of the desert and fields at the sight of every unknown pickup or car. Occasionally he’dapproach, lips taut, exposing a nervous smile full of chattering teeth.

More often he’d simply pace and finally skulk off to his tree stump, perhaps to worry alone.

Becky’s first day of school was sad for Ralph. After the bus left, he refused to return to the yard.Instead, he lay by the side of the road and waited.

When Becky returned, he limped and tottered in wild, joyous circles around her. This welcomingritual persisted throughout her school years.

Although Ralph seemed happy on the ranch, he disappeared into the surrounding deserts andmountains for several weeks during the spring mating season, leaving us to worry about his safety.This was calving season, and fellow ranchers watched for coyotes, cougars, wild dogs and, ofcourse, the lone wolf. But Ralph was lucky.

During Ralph’s twelve years on our ranch, his habits remained unchanged. Always keeping hisdistance, he tolerated other pets and endured the activities of our busy family, but his love for Beckynever wavered.

Then the spring came when our neighbor told us he’d shot and killed a she-wolf and grazed hermate, who had been running with her. Sure enough, Ralph returned home with another bulletwound. Becky, nearly fifteen years old now, sat with Ralph’s head resting on her lap. He, too, musthave been about fifteen and was gray with age. As Bill removed the bullet, my memory raced backthrough the years. Once again I saw a chubby three-year-old girl stroking the head of a huge blackwolf and heard a small voice murmuring, “It’s all right, boy. Don’t be afraid. That’s my mama, andshe loves you, too.”

Although the wound wasn’t serious, this time Ralph didn’t get well. Precious pounds fell away.The once luxurious fur turned dull and dry, and his trips to the yard in search of Becky’scompanionship ceased. All day long he rested quietly. But when night fell, old and stiff as he was, hedisappeared into the desert and surrounding hills. By dawn his food was gone. The morning camewhen we found him dead. The yellow eyes were closed.

Stretched out in front of the oak stump, he appeared but a shadow of the proud beast he oncehad been. A lump in my throat choked me as I watched Becky stroke his shaggy neck, tearsstreaming down her face. “I’ll miss him so,” she cried.

Then as I covered him with a blanket a strange rustling sound from inside the stump startledus. Becky looked inside. Two tiny yellow eyes peered back and puppy fangs glinted in thesemidarkness. Ralph’s pup!

Had a dying instinct told him his motherless offspring would be safe here, as he had been, withthose who loved him? Hot tears spilled on baby fur as Becky gathered the trembling bundle in herarms.

“It’s all right, little ... Ralphie,” she murmured. “Don’t be afraid. That’s my mom, and she lovesyou, too.”

哥哥姐姐都去上学以后，对我们三岁的女儿贝基来说，农场就成为一个寂寞的地方了。她渴望伙伴。牛马太大了，她无法抱在怀里。农业机械对这么小的孩子也太危险。我们答应给她买个宠物，不过同时，“虚构”的宠物每天都会出现。

我刚洗完午饭的盘子，纱窗门就砰地被撞开，贝基跑了进来，兴奋地满脸通红。“妈妈!”她叫着，“快来看看我的新狗狗!我已经喂他两次水了，他都快渴死了!”

我叹息了一声，又是一只贝基虚构的小狗。

“来呀，妈妈。”她使劲拖着我的牛仔裤，棕色的眼睛里透出乞求的眼神。“他一直在叫——他还不会走路呢!”

“不会走路?”这倒是一个预想不到的变化。她以前编造的狗狗都会做令人惊异的事情。其中一只会在鼻尖上平稳地顶着一个球不让它掉下来，另一只挖洞穿越了地球，从另一端掉到星球上去了，还有一只在能在钢丝上跳舞。怎么突然有了一只不会走路的狗狗呢?

“好吧，宝贝。”我说。还来不及跟上她呢，贝基就已经消失在豆科灌木丛中了。

“你在哪儿啊?”我喊道。

“就在橡树桩这儿。快点呀妈妈!”

我拨开带刺的枝叶，抬手遮住亚利桑那州的太阳。突然一种麻木的寒战擢紧了我。她就在那儿，蹲坐在脚后跟上，脚尖陷进沙子里，紧抱在腿上的明明是一只狼的脑袋!脑袋下面是巨大的黑色肩膀。身体的其他部位完全隐藏在一颗倒下的橡树的中空的树桩中。

“贝基，”我觉得嘴里发干，“不要动。”我走近一些。淡黄色的眼睛眯起来了，黑色的嘴唇绷紧了，露出两排两寸长的犬牙。突然，狼有些战栗。牙齿噼啪作响，喉咙里发出令人怜悯的哀鸣。

“没关系，宝贝，”贝基轻柔地安慰他。“不要害怕，那是我的妈妈，她也爱你。”

接着令人难以置信的事情发生了。当她的小手抚摸那颗硕大而毛发粗浓的脑袋时，我听到从树根深处传来狼尾巴的轻微撞击声，砰，砰，砰!这个动物到底怎么了?我感到奇怪。为何他站不起来?我不知道，也不敢再朝前迈一步。

我瞟了一眼空空的盛水的碗，我立刻想起了上周在从一个漏管子中咬破粗麻布挣扎着要到达水边的经历着最后痛苦的患狂犬病的五只臭鼬。是的!狂犬病!全国都张贴了这种警告标志，贝基不也说过 “他快渴死了” 吗?我必须让贝基离开。

“宝贝，”我的喉咙变紧了，“把他的头放下，到妈妈这儿来。我们得去求助。”

贝基很不情愿地站起来，又在狼的鼻子上亲了一下，才慢慢走进我的怀抱中。悲哀的黄眼睛跟随着她。接着它的脑袋就堕落到了地上。看到贝基安全地回到了我的怀抱，我赶紧向牲口棚跑去。我们的牧牛工布赖恩正要备马去北方牧场查看小母牛。“布赖恩!快来。贝基在洼地附近的橡树桩发现了一匹狼!我想它一定染上了狂犬病。”

“我马上去，”他说。我赶紧回到屋里，希望贝基能快点午睡。我不想让她看到布赖恩从简易住处中出来，我知道他有枪。

“但我想给狗狗喝水，”她哭起来。我吻了吻她，给她一些填充玩具让她玩。

“宝贝儿，现在让妈妈和布赖恩去照料他。”我说。片刻之后，我又来到橡树桩那里。

布赖恩站在那里看了一会这个野兽。“这确实是墨西哥大灰狼。”他补充互说，“而且是个大个。”

狼发出哀叫声。接着我们都闻到了坏疽的味道。“哟!不是狂犬病，”布赖恩说。“但他肯定受了重伤。你觉得我结束他的痛苦不是最好的吗?”

我马上就要说出“是的”，这时贝基从灌木丛中出现了。“布赖恩会把他治好的，是吗妈妈?”她把狼脑袋又拖到自己的腿上，把脸埋进粗糙而缺乏光亮的毛皮中。这次不仅我一个人听到了大灰狼尾巴的砰砰声。

那天下午我的丈夫比尔和我们的兽医来看望狼。看到这只动物对我们孩子的信任，医生对我说，“你就让贝基和我一起照管他吧。”

“他现在睡着了，”兽医说。“比尔，帮我一下忙。”他们一起把狼沉重的身体从树桩中拉出来。他至少得有五英尺长，一百多磅。子弹伤害了他的臀部和腿部。医生为了清洗伤口做了该做的一切，又为这匹受伤的狼服了一剂青霉素。第二天他又来了，嵌入一根金属棒来代替失去的骨头。

“哎呀，看来你们得到的是只墨西哥大灰狼，”医生说。“他看来差不多有3岁了，即便是幼崽，他们也不太容易驯服。令我惊异的是这个大家伙对你家小女孩的方式。不过常常孩子和动物之间会发生一些我们成人无法理解的事情。”

贝基给这匹狼取了个名字叫拉尔夫，每天都把食物和水送到树桩那里。拉尔夫康复起来并不容易。三个月来，他都用前爪扒着地，拖着受伤的后腿部分移动。但当我们给他按摩萎缩的肢体时，从他搭拉下眼皮的方式我们知道他经受着极度的痛苦，然而他从没有试图咬过照顾他的人的手。

到今天就四个月了，拉尔夫终于独立地站立起来。当长期未活动的肌肉活跃起来，他庞大的体格有些摇晃。比尔和我轻轻拍了拍他，对他加以赞扬。但他却转向了贝基以得到一句温柔的话、一个吻或者一个微笑。他则像个钟摆似的频繁摇着尾巴回应她爱的表示。随着他的力量的慢慢恢复，拉尔夫跟着贝基在整个农场里逛游。

他们一起在荒凉的牧场上漫游，金发孩子常常俯下身来，轻声细语地与庞大的瘸腿大灰狼分享大自然的秘密奇观。夜晚来临时，他就像一个寂静的影子一样返回那个中空的树桩，那里理所当然成为他的专用地方。

随着时间的流逝，尽管他主要生活在灌木丛中，这个羞怯的动物的习性却让我们越来越喜欢他了。他对我们家人之外的人的反应自然又不同了。陌生人使他感到害怕，然而每次看到不熟悉的小货车或汽车时他对贝基的友爱与保护都让他走出荒地和田野。偶尔他也会走近，双唇绷紧，牙齿打战，露出一个紧张的微笑。

更多的时候他只是踱步，最后又偷偷回到他的树桩那儿，也许要独自不安。

贝基第一天上学对拉尔夫来说是个悲伤的日子。公共汽车离开后，他拒绝回到院子里，而是待在路边等她回来。

贝基回来后，他狂热而快乐地围着她一瘸一拐地打转。她整个上学期间他都一直坚持用这种欢迎仪式。

尽管拉尔夫在农场显得很高兴，当春天交配季节来临时，他在附近的荒原和山上消失了好几周，留下我们担心他的安全。这也是裂冰的季节，同行的农场主们都在监视着丛林狼、美洲狮、豺狗，当然还有单独出来的狼。不过拉尔夫很幸运。

拉尔夫在农场上生活的12年间，习惯一直没变。总是保持着距离，容忍着其他的宠物，忍受着我们家忙碌的生活，但他对贝基的爱一直没有动摇过。

接着春天来临了，这时我们的邻居告诉我们他开枪射死了一匹母狼，擦伤了和她一起逃亡的配偶。当然，拉尔夫带着另一个子弹伤口回来了。贝基现在快15岁了，她坐在那儿，让拉尔夫的头枕在她的腿上。他肯定也差不多15岁了，随着年龄的增长也变老了。当比尔取出子弹时，我的记忆又回到了很多年前。我仿佛又看到一个胖胖的三岁小女孩抚摸着大大的黑狼的脑袋，听到她轻声细语，“没关系，宝贝，不要害怕。那是我的妈妈，她也爱你。”

尽管伤不是很严重，这次拉尔夫没有好起来。宝贵的体重消瘦下来，曾经舒适的皮毛变得暗淡枯燥，他也不到院里找贝基玩了。他一整天就是安静地休息，但夜晚一到，尽管他老了，也不灵活了，他就消失在荒野和周围的小山中。破晓之前他的食物不见了。早上来了，我们发现他已经死了，黄色的眼睛也已经闭上。

走在橡树桩前面，他又出现了，但只是他曾经的高傲野兽的影子。看到贝基抚摸他那毛发粗浓的脖颈时，我的喉咙有些哽咽，泪水从她的脸上滚落下来。“我会非常想他的，”她哭着说。

接着，当我给他盖上毯子时，从树桩里传出的沙沙声吓了我们一跳。贝基往里看了看。两只黄色的小眼睛正眯眼看着我们。小犬牙在半明半暗中闪耀着。拉尔夫的幼崽!

是否临终前的本能告诉他没有母亲的孩子在这里会很安全，就像他当初一样，有那些爱他的人们呢?贝基把发抖的包袱的抱进怀中时热泪滴在了幼崽的毛毛上。

“没关系，小……拉尔夫，”她轻声说着，“不要害怕。那是我的妈妈，她也爱你。”

在英语考试的听力中，英语情景对话是必考的一类问题，今天读文网小编在这里为大家分享一些三人英语对话短文，希望这些英语对话对大家有所帮助!

三人英语对话短文篇1

M: hi, Dan, what are u doing?

D: I am playing war craft.

M: Where is Tommy?

D: Shiiiii!

M:What? What's the matter?

D: Don't u see? He is still sleeping.

M: My goodness! I can't believe this! It’s almost nine. He got to get up now. Don't u remember we are required to make up a three people dialogue for tomorrow's oral class?

D: Yes, I do. You wake up Tommy and I will play one more round of war craft.

M: You'd better stop playing right now. We don't have much time to prepare this dialogue. Tommy! Tommy! Wake up! Time to wake up!

T:five more minutes, please.

Mike: No way, Jose. Time really flies.We still have a lot to do. Hurry up.

T: (Tommy sits up in his bed) Can I lie down two more minutes, please, just two more minutes? when Danny finishes his game, I will be fine.(Yawns) I don't know why I am so so sleepy. (Tommy lies down again.)

M: Guys!!! I am really angry now. Time waits for nobody. If you two don't stop what you are doing now, I will find somebody else to be my partners.

D and T: all right. All right. We listen to u.

M: That's more like it. We need will power.

D and T: what is will power?

M: Will power is trying hard not to do something that you really want to do.

D: You mean like trying not to play war craft?

Mike: right.

T: you mean like trying not to stay up late?

M: right.

Danny turns off his computer. Tommy gets up and goes to the bathroom.

Two minutes later the three maskeetters are working on their assignment.

Danny: Mike, can I take a little break? Let me play one round and we will continue our work?

Tommy: Mike, Can I lie down a minute? My back hurts.

Mike: No! No! No! Let's finish our work first before we do anything. We need will power!!!

Danny and Tommy: that's true. We need will power! We listen to you

一组专业人士向一群4-8岁的儿童提出一个问题：“爱是什么?”得到的答案比其他人所能想到的还广还深。下面是读文网小编整理的双语散文:爱的诠释，欢迎大家阅读!

What is Love?

A group of professional people posed this question to a group of 4 to 8 year-olds: “Whatdoes love mean?” The answers they got were broader and deeper than anyone could haveimagined. See what you think.

“When my grandmother got arthritis, she couldn’t bend over and paint her toenailsanymore. So my grandfather does it for her all the time, even when his hands got arthritis too.That’s love.” — Rebecca, age 8

“When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. “You know that yourname is safe in their mouth.” — Billy, age 4

“Love is when you go out to eat and give somebody most of your French fries withoutmaking them give you any of theirs.” — Chris, age 6

“Love is when someone hurts you. And you get so mad but you don’t yell at them becauseyou know it would hurt their feelings.” — Samantha, age 6

“Love is what makes you smile when you’re tired.” — Terri, age 4

一组专业人士向一群4-8岁的儿童提出一个问题：“爱是什么?”得到的答案比其他人所能想到的还广还深。看看这些答案，你能想到什么。

“我的祖母患了关节炎无法弯下腰涂指甲油，因此一直都是我的祖父帮她做这件事，即使他的手也患上了关节炎。这就是爱。”——丽贝卡(8岁)

“如果有人爱你，那么你的名字对他来说与众不同。而且你知道他们永远不会把你的秘密说出去。”——比利(4岁)

“爱是当你出去吃饭时，把你大部分的炸薯条都给他们，而不需要他们把自己盘子里的东西给你。”——克莉丝(6岁)

“爱是虽然他把你气得发疯，你也不会对他喊叫，因为你怕伤害了他的感情。”——萨曼塔(6岁)

“爱是当你疲倦时让你发笑的东西”。——特里(4岁)

“Love is when my mommy makes coffee for my daddy and she takes a sip before giving it tohim, to make sure the taste is OK.” — Danny, age 7

“Love is what’s in the room with you at Christmas if you stop opening presents and listen.” — Bobby, age 5

“Love is hugging. Love is kissing. Love is saying no.” — Patty, age 8

“When you tell someone something bad about yourself and you’re scared they won’t loveyou anymore. But then you get surprised because not only do they still love you, they love youeven more.” — Matthew, age 7

“There are two kinds of love. Our love. God’s love. But God makes both kinds of them.” —Jenny, age 4

“爱是我妈妈为我爸爸煮咖啡，再递给他之前都要尝一口，试试味道是否很好。”——丹尼(7岁)

“爱是在圣诞节，和你呆在同一个房间，你会停止拆礼物而去听他们说些什么。”——博比(5岁)

“爱是拥抱，爱是亲吻，爱要懂得拒绝。”——帕蒂(8岁)

“当你告诉他们你做的坏事后害怕他们会不再爱你，但却发现他们不但还爱你，而且更爱你了。”——马修(7岁)

“有两种爱。我们的爱和上帝的爱，但这两种爱都是上帝所赋予的。”——詹妮(4岁)

“Love is when you tell a guy you like his shirt, then he wears it everyday.” — Noelle, age 7

“Love is like a little old woman and a little old man who are still friends even after they knoweach other so well.” — Tommy, age 6

“During my piano recital, I was on a stage and scared. I looked at all the people watchingme and saw my daddy waving and smiling. He was the only one doing that. I wasn’t scaredanymore.” — Cindy, age 8

“My mommy loves me more than anybody. You don’t see anyone else kissing me to sleep atnight.” — Clare, age 5

“Love is when mommy sees daddy smelly and sweaty and still says he is handsomer thanRobert Redford.” — Chris, age 8

“Love is when your puppy licks your face even after you left him alone all day.” — Mary Ann,age 4

“I know my older sister loves me because she gives me all her old clothes and has to go outand buy new ones.” — Lauren, age 4

“When you love somebody, your eyelashes go up and down and little stars come out of you.” — Karen, age 7

“You really shouldn’t say ‘I love you’ unless you mean it. But if you mean it, you should say ita lot. People forget.” — Jessica, age 8

“爱是当你告诉一个男孩你喜欢他的这件衬衫，他就天天穿着它。”——诺艾尔(7岁)

“爱就像一位小老太和一位小老头，即使他们彼此非常熟悉但仍然是朋友。”——汤米(6岁)

“在我的钢琴独奏会上，我正在后台准备，心里非常害怕。我看了看台下那些盯着我的人，发现我爸爸向我招手并冲我微笑，他是惟一这么做的人，我不再害怕了。”——辛迪(8岁)

“我妈妈爱我胜过任何人，你不会看到其他人临睡前给我晚安吻。”——克莱尔(5岁)

“爱是当妈妈看见爸爸浑身汗臭、满身大汗的时候仍然说他比罗伯特•莱福德还帅。”——克莉丝(8岁)

“爱是即使你把你的小狗孤零零扔在家一天，他还会添你的脸。”——玛丽•安(4岁)

“我的姐姐很爱我，因为她把所有的旧衣服都给了我，自己还得再去买新的。”——劳伦(4岁)

“如果你爱某人，你的眼睫毛会上下地跳来跳去，小星星就从你身上出来了。”——卡伦(7岁)

“你不要说‘我爱你’，除非你明白爱是什么。但要是你明白了，你必须经常说。人么却总忘记。”——杰西卡(8岁)

多阅读一些医学的短篇英语阅读，对于医科专业的学习提高会有所帮助，今天读文网小编在这里为大家分享一些医学英语短文阅读，欢迎大家阅读!

医学英语短文阅读：器官移植

Normal human cells can also become foreign invaders. When an organ such as a liver is transplant (moved) form one person to another, cells from the transplanted organ are seen as enemy invaders by the immune system of the person receiving the organ. The cells of the transplanted organ set off an immunological attack. Killer T cells and antibodies rush to the site, causing organ rejection, and the organ dies. Physicians solve this problem in part with medicines that suppress, or slow down, the immune system.

正常的人体细胞也可能成为外来的入侵者，例如，一个人的肝脏器官移植到另一个人的身体内，接受者的免疫系统视来自被移植器官的细胞为入侵的敌人。被移植器官的细胞将发动一场免疫攻势，杀伤T细胞和抗体就会冲到现场，引起排斥反应，而且这个被移植的器官就会死亡。医生们可以使用抑制或减缓免疫系统的药物部分地解决这一难题。

多阅读一些短篇的英语美文，对于我们英语阅读能力的提高会有所帮助，今天读文网小编在这里为大家分享一些优美英语短文阅读，希望大家会喜欢这些美文美段!

优美英语短文阅读：选择朋友

A good companion is better than a fortune, for a fortune cannot purchase those elements of character which make companionship a blessing. The best companion is one who is wiser and better than ourselves, for we are inspired by his wisdom and virtue to nobler deeds.

一个好友胜过一笔财富，因为钱财买不到人的某些品德因素，而正是这些因素，使友情成为一种恩惠。最好的朋友是那些比我们更睿智、更出色的人，我们会受到他们的智慧和美德的激励，从而使我们的行为更加高尚。

“Keep good company and you shall be one of the number.” said George Herbert. “A man is known by the companion he keeps.” Character makes character in the associations of life faster than anything else. Purity begets purity, like begets like; and this fact makes the choice of companion in early life more important even than that of teachers and guardians.

“与优秀者为伍，你也会成为优秀者中的一员。”乔治.赫伯特曾说，“从一个人所交的朋友可知其为人。”在社会交往中，品性对品性的塑造胜过其他任何因素。纯洁的品格会培养纯洁的品格，爱好会引发相同的爱好。这一事实使得在年少时选择朋友甚至比选择老师和监护人还要重要。

It is true that we cannot always choose all of our companions, some are thrust upon us by business or the social relations of life, we do not choose them, we do not enjoy them; and yet, we have to associate with them more or less. The experience is not altogether without compensation, if there be principle enough in us to bear the strain. Still, in the main, choice of companions can be made, and must be made. It is not best or necessary for a young person to associate with “Tom, Dick, and Harry” without forethought or purpose. Some fixed rules about the company he or she keeps must be observed. The subject should be uttermost in the thoughts, and canvassed often.

事实上，并非所有的朋友都是我们选择的，有些是生意或社会关系强加于我们的。我们没有选择他们，也不喜欢他们，可是我们不得不或多或少地与他们交往。不过，在情势的压力之下，只要我们自有主张，这样的交往也并非全无益处。大多数情况下，我们还是可以而且必须要选择朋友的。一个年轻人无所考虑、无所目的地随意与张三李四交往是不好的，也是没必要的，他/她必须遵循一些交友的定例，择友时应首先考虑这些定例，并经常加以审视。

Companionship is education, good or not; it develops manhood or womanhood, high or low; it lifts soul upward or drags it downward; it ministers to virtue or vice. Sow virtue, and the harvest will be virtue, Sow vice, and the harvest will be vice. Good companionships help us to sow virtue; evil companionships help us to sow vice.

无论是有益还是有害，友谊就是一种教育。它可以培育高贵或卑微的品格;它可以升华灵魂，也可以使之沉沦;它可以滋生美德，也可以助长邪恶。播种美德，就会收获美德;播种邪恶，就会收获邪恶。有益的友谊帮助我们播种美德，而有害的友谊则使我们播种邪恶。

通过英语散文,不仅能够感受语言之美,领悟语言之用，还能产生学习语言的兴趣。度过一段美好的时光，即感悟生活，触动心灵。下面读文网小编为大家带来优美英语散文翻译，欢迎大家阅读!

散文翻译：

一只蝴蝶想要找一个恋人。自然，他想要在群花中找到一位可爱的小恋人。因此他就把她们都看了一遍。每朵花都是安静地、端庄地坐在梗子上，正如一个姑娘在没有订婚时那样坐着。可是她们的数目非常多，选择很不容易。蝴蝶不愿意招来麻烦，因此就飞到雏菊那儿去。法国人把这种小花叫做"玛加丽特"(注：原文是"Margreth"，这个字是"雏菊"的意思;欧美有许多女子用这个字作为名字。)。他们知道，她能作出预言。她是这样作的：情人们把她的花瓣一起一起地摘下来，每摘一起情人就问一个关于他们恋人的事情："热情吗?--痛苦吗?--非常爱我吗?只爱一点吗?--完全不爱吗?"以及诸如此类的问题。每个人可以用自己的语言问。蝴蝶也来问了;但是他不摘下花瓣，却吻起每片花瓣来。因为他认为只有善意才能得到最好的回答。

"亲爱的'玛加丽特'雏菊!"他说，"你是一切花中最聪明的女人。你会作出预言!我请求你告诉我，我应该娶这一位呢，还是娶那一位?我到底会得到哪一位呢?如果我知道的话，就可以直接向她飞去，向她求婚。"

可是"玛加丽特"不回答他。她很生气，因为她还不过是一个少女，而他却已把她称为"女人";这究竟有一个分别呀。他问了第二次，第三次。当他从她得不到半个字的回答的时候，就不再愿意问了。他飞走了，并且立刻开始他的求婚活动。

这正是初春的时候，番红花和雪形花正在盛开。

"她们非常好看，"蝴蝶说，"简直是一群情窦初开的可爱的小姑娘，但是太不懂世事。"他像所有的年轻小伙子一样，要寻找年纪较大一点的女子。

于是他就飞到秋牡丹那儿去。照他的胃口说来，这些姑娘未免苦味太浓了一点。紫罗兰有点太热情;郁金香太华丽;黄水仙太平民化;菩提树花太小，此外她们的亲戚也太多;苹果树花看起来倒很像玫瑰，但是她们今天开了，明天就谢了--只要风一吹就落下来了。他觉得跟她们结婚是不会长久的。豌豆花最逗人爱：她有红有白，既娴雅，又柔嫩。她是家庭观念很强的妇女，外表既漂亮，在厨房里也很能干。当他正打算向她求婚的时候，看到这花儿的近旁有一个豆荚--豆荚的尖端上挂着一朵枯萎了的花。

"这是谁?"他问。

"这是我的姐姐，"

"乖乖!那么你将来也会像她一样了!"他说。

这使蝴蝶大吃一惊，于是他就飞走了。

金银花悬在篱笆上。像她这样的女子，数目还不少;她们都板平面孔，皮肤发黄。不成，他不喜欢这种类型的女子。

不过他究竟喜欢谁呢?你去问他吧!春天过去了，夏天也快要告一结束。现在是秋天了，但是他仍然犹豫不决。

现在花儿都穿上了她们最华丽的衣服，但是有什么用呢--她们已经失去了那种新鲜的、喷香的青春味儿。人上了年纪，心中喜欢的就是香味呀。特别是在天竺牡丹和干菊花中间，香味这东西可说是没有了。因此蝴蝶就飞向地上长着的薄荷那儿去。

"她可以说没有花，但是全身又都是花，从头到脚都有香气，连每一起叶子上都有花香。我要讨她!"

于是他就对她提出婚事。

薄荷端端正正地站着，一声不响。最后她说：

"交朋友是可以的，但是别的事情都谈不上。我老了，你也老了，我们可以彼此照顾，但是结婚--那可不成!像我们这样大的年纪，不要自己开自己的玩笑吧!"

这么一来，蝴蝶就没有找到太太的机会了。他挑选太久了，不是好办法。结果蝴蝶就成了大家所谓的老单身汉了。

这是晚秋季节，天气多雨而阴沉。风儿把寒气吹在老柳树的背上，弄得它们发出飕飕的响声来。如果这时还穿着夏天的衣服在外面寻花问柳，那是不好的，因为这样，正如大家说的一样，会受到批评的。的确，蝴蝶也没有在外面乱飞。他乘着一个偶然的机会溜到一个房间里去了。这儿火炉里面生着火，像夏天一样温暖。他满可以生活得很好的，不过，"只是活下去还不够!"他说，"一个人应该有自由、阳光和一朵小小的花儿!"

他撞着窗玻璃飞，被人观看和欣赏，然后就被穿在一根针上，藏在一个小古董匣子里面。这是人们最欣赏他的一种表示。

"现在我像花儿一样，栖在一根梗子上了，"蝴蝶说。"这的确是不太愉快的。这几乎跟结婚没有两样，因为我现在算是牢牢地固定下来了。"

他用这种思想来安慰自己。

"这是一种可怜的安慰，"房子里的栽在盆里的花儿说。

"可是，"蝴蝶想，"一个人不应该相信这些盆里的花儿的话。她们跟人类的来往太密切了。"(1861年)

这篇小品，发表于1861年在哥本哈根出版的《丹麦大众历书》上。它充满了风趣，值得玩味，特别是对那些即将进入"单身汉"境地的人。最后一句话也颇有意思："一个人不应该相信这些盆里的花儿的话。她们跟人类的来往太密切了。"

优美英语散文翻译相关