It was raining as I got off the train in Nashville, Tennessee. I was tired so I went straight to my hotel.
A big, heavy man was walking up and down in the hotel lobby. Something about the way he moved made me think of a hungry dog looking for a bone. He had a big, fat, red face and a sleepy expression in his eyes. He introduced himself as Wentworth Caswell – Major Wentworth Caswell – from “a fine southern family”. Caswell pulled me into the hotel’s barroom and yelled for a wai
ter. We ordered drinks. While we drank, he talked continually about himself, his family, his wife and her family. He said his wife was rich. He showed me a handful of silver coins that he pulled from his coat pocket.
By this time, I had decided that I wanted no more of him. I said good night.
I was born in the south myself. But I live in New York now. I write for a large magazine. My boss had asked me to go to Nashville. The magazine had received some stories and poems from a writer in Nashville, named Azalea Adair. The editor liked her work very much. The publisher asked me to get her to sign an agreement to write only for his magazine.
I left the hotel at nine o’clock the next morning to find Miss Adair. It was still raining. As soon as I stepped outside I met Uncle Caesar. He was a big, old black man with fuzzy gray hair. Uncle Caesar was wearing the strangest coat I had ever seen. It must have been a military officer’s coat. It was very long and when it was new it had been gray. But now rain, sun and age had made it a rainbow of colors. Only one of the buttons was left. It was yellow and as big as a fifty cent coin.
Uncle Caesar stood near a horse and carriage. He opened the carriage door and said softly,
“Step right in, sir. I’ll take you anywhere in the city.”
“I want to go to 861 Jasmine Street,” I said, and I started to climb into the carriage. But the old man stopped me. “Why do you want to go there, sir?”
“What business is it of yours?” I said angrily. Uncle Caesar relaxed and smiled. “Nothing, sir. But it’s a lonely part of town. Just step in and I’ll take you there right away.”
861 Jasmine Street had been a fine house once, but now it was old and dying. I got out of the carriage.
“That will be two dollars, sir,” Uncle Caesar said. I gave him two one-dollar bills. As I handed them to him, I noticed that one had been torn in half and fixed with a piece of blue paper. Also, the upper right hand corner was missing.
小題1:The narrator （故事的敘述者）got to Nashville probably _______.
| A．in the morning | B．a(chǎn)t noon | C．in the afternoon | D．in the evening |
小題2: The narrator didn’t like Caswell mainly because of ________.
| A．his appearance | B．his family | C．the way he talked and behaved | D．his wife |
小題3: The publisher told the narrator to go to Nashville ______.
| A．to get a writer to sign an agreement for his magazine |
| B．to collect some stories and poems from a writer |
| C．to look for good writers for his magazine |
| D．to visit his old friend Azalea Adair |
小題4: Uncle Caesar’s strange coat ________.
| A．was worn by a military officer | B．was a new gray coat |
| C．was an old yellow raincoat | D．had only one button left |
小題5: From the question “Why do you want to go there, sir?”, we guess that Uncle Caesar _______.
| A．wanted to know why the narrator wanted to go there |
| B．knew the place and was concerned about the narrator |
| C．would charge two dollars for taking the narrator there |
| D．must have lived in the neighbourhood before |
ever, dogs without owners to care for lead a different kind of life. The expression “to lead a dog’s life” describes a person who has an unhappy existence.
machine, have to come farther, we have to pay them more. 