The problem of the widening gap between the rich and the poor, if not properly ______, can result in many serious social tensions.

A. being handledB. to handle C. handled D. handling

Compare some recent work with your old stuff ______ you’ll see how much you’ve improved.

A. butB. or C. so D. and

She was greatly shocked at the scene before her eyes. Never did she expect that the local conditions ______ be so awful.

A. couldB. should C. would D. might

— Tom! Corey has broken the glass.

— ______. Such things happen.

A. What a pityB. No way

C. It doesn’t matterD. By no means

In 1972, I returned to Miami Beach High School to speak to the drama class. Afterward I asked the drama teacher any of my English teachers are still there. Irene Roberts, he tells me, is in the class down the hall.

　　I was no one special in Miss Roberts’ class — just another student who did okay work. I don’t recall any one special bit of wisdom she passed on. Yet I cannot forget her for language, for ideas and for her students. I now, many years later, that she is the perfect example of a teacher. I’d like to say something to her, I say, but I don’t want to her from a class. Nonsense, he says, she’ll be to see you.

　　The drama teacher Miss Roberts into the hallway where stands this 32-year-old man she last saw at 18. “I’m Mark Medoff,” I tell her. “You were my 12th-grade English teacher in 1958.” She her head to one side and looks at me, as if this angle might remember me in her . And then, though armed with a message I want to in many words, I can’t think up anything more memorable than this: “I want you to know,” I say, “you were to me.”

　　And there in the hallway, this lovely woman, now nearing age, this teacher who doesn’t remember me, begins to weep; and she encircles me in her arms.

　　 this moment, I begin to sense that everything I will ever know, everything I will ever pass to my students, is an inseparable part of a legacy(遺產(chǎn)) of our ancestors.

　　Irene Roberts holds me in her arms and through her tears whispers my cheek, “Thank you.” And then, with the briefest of looks into my forgotten face, she back into her classroom, to what she has done thousands of days through all the years of my .

On reflection, maybe those were, , just the right words to say to Irene Roberts. Maybe they are the very words I would like to speak to all those teachers through my life, the very words I would like spoken to me one day by some returning student: “I want you to know you were important to me.”

1.A. thatB. ifC. asD. when

2.A. justB. almostC. nearlyD. about

3.A. kindnessB. respectC. friendshipD. love

4.A. knowB. learnC. realizeD. believe

5.A. selfishB. self-confidentC. self-consciousD. selfless

6.A. callB. dragC. pushD. pull

7.A. upsetB. delightedC. interestedD. annoyed

8.A. bringsB. takesC. fetchesD. introduces

9.A. bowsB. raisesC. risesD. puts

10.A. thoughtB. brainC. attentionD. memory

11.A. announceB. speakC. deliverD. tell

12.A. usefulB. importantC. hopefulD. beneficial

13.A. retirementB. enjoymentC. employmentD. happiness

14.A. RemindingB. ExplainingC. RememberingD. Forgetting

15.A. happilyB. straightC. calmly D. briefly

16.A. againstB. withC. offD. beyond

17.A. escapesB. gathersC. disappearsD. fails

18.A. longsB. continuesC. goesD. returns

19.A. absenceB. classC. workD. task

20.A. or ratherB. in additionC. as usualD. after all

“Tell me again how you learned to ride a horse,” I would ask my father when I was a little girl in Denmark. I was no more than four years old—too little to learn to ride a horse by myself. But I liked to hear my father tell his story. And then he would begin.

“When I was a little boy, as little as you are now,” he would say, “I wanted to ride the horses. But I was too small to mount a horse. So I would slip into my father’s stables to be with the horses and admire them. Such big, powerful animals they were!

“The gentle workhorses stood quietly in their stalls, eating their hay. I would climb up the side of one of the stalls and slide over onto the horse’s back.

“Then I would hold its mane and imagine us running quickly over the grasslands, down to the shore, and even into the sea.

“When I grew tall enough to mount a horse,” he said, “my wish came true.”

“You swim with the horses now,” I said. “You even swim with Fiery. And he has spirit!”

Everybody knew about Fiery, the great black male horse with the fierce temper, and how he behaved when he first came to the stables. He raised itself on its back legs with the front legs in the air. He snorted and kicked. He rolled his eyes. And everyone was afraid of him. Everyone, except my father.

I wanted to hear more. “Now tell me how you made Fiery your friend,” I begged. This was my favorite story.

“Well, little Else,” my father went on, “I just talked to him. I talked as a friend. You must talk to a horse like Fiery.

“I’d say, ‘No, little horse. No, my friend. You can’t run free. You must learn to let me ride you.’

“And soon Fiery began to listen. He knew from my voice that I would be his friend.”

So Fiery let my father teach him to carry a rider. Then Fiery would take my father across the soft green grasslands or even into the lively waters of the northern sea. I loved to see Father riding Fiery without a saddle(馬鞍) into the sea. There they swam, Father and Fiery, out in the cold, clear water.

Often I would watch them from the shore, holding tight to my mother’s hand. They swam so bravely. I was so proud of them!

Then Father and Fiery would come splashing out of the water and run along the shore toward us. They made a fine stop—just in time!

Fiery towered over us. He tossed his head and shook sea water from his shining black coat.

Father was laughing and patting Fiery’s neck.

And I was making a wish.

I wished that someday I could have a horse, too . . . but a smaller one!

1.What is Fiery like when he first comes to the stables?

A. He is quiet and lazy.

B. He is wild and full of spirit.

C. He makes friends with everyone.

D. He only lets Else’s father ride him.

2.Where does Else most like to watch her father ride Fiery?

A. At the seashore. B. On the farm.

C. In the grasslands. D. In the stables.

3.In the passage, the underlined word “mount” means___________.

A. feed withB. talk about C. fasten to D. climb onto

4.How does Else feel about horses after watching her father ride Fiery?

A. She wants a horse just like Fiery.

B. She has no interest in riding horses.

C. She would like to have a smaller horse.

D. She thinks horses should not go into the sea.

5.What does Else learn from her father’s story?

A. How to train a workhorse.

B. How to swim with a horse.

C. How to make friends with a horse.

D. How to ride a horse without a saddle.

Successful athletes today are able to earn enormous salaries and many of them choose to share the wealth they have by donating to charities.

Perhaps the generosity displayed by these athletes will inspire others to join them in helping the less fortunate.

1.What do we know from the passage?

A. Donating to charities is common among famous athletes.

B. All the athletes mentioned in this passage are famous basketball players.

C. Some athletes mentioned in this passage will donate all their money in future.

D. Successful athletes will be scolded if they don’t donate their money to people in need.

2.Who has a foundation that is named after him/ her?

A. Ron Artest.B. Steve Nash.

C. Tiger Woods.D. Hannah Teter.

3.How many athletes mentioned by the author mainly help the school children?

A. Two.B. Three.C. Four.D. Five.

4.This passage was written in order to___________.

A. tell us the successful athletes are generous

B. tell us there are a lot of charities in the US

C. inspire more and more people to help the needy

D. praise the successful athletes for their good deeds

A house of cards? Sounds unbelievable, doesn’t it? Not if the architect is 31-year-old Bryan Berg. He’s made a career out of building fantastic card houses, stadiums, capitols, castles — and the world’s tallest card tower. How does he do it?

Bryan’s structures are amazing because they are made entirely of perfectly balanced, freestanding playing cards. He never uses glue, tape, or anything else to hold the cards together. Nor does he fold the cards. He’s discovered another way to make a strong house of cards, using a trick from nature.

To make plants strong, nature builds them with cells that have tough walls. Rows and rows of these cells form a grid(格子) that helps leaves and stems keep their shape. Bees use the same kind of repeating pattern to create strong honeycombs, where they live and store honey. Bryan designs similar grids, using cards to create a repeating pattern of cells.

He begins with a single cell made by balancing four cards against one another to form a box. Then he repeats the cell over and over, expanding outward to form the grid, which makes a good foundation for a strong card structure. The larger the grid, the more weight it can carry. Sometimes Bryan uses several cards, instead of just one, to construct the cell walls, making the grid even stronger. The trick, he tells kids when he speaks in classrooms, is to place your cards as tightly together as possible when laying out your grid, making sure the cards are not leaning at all.

After building this solid base, Bryan lays cards across the top to make the floor for the next “story” of the building. He may add towers, columns, steeples, or domes. Using the principle of repeating cells, Bryan builds structures of amazing strength.

In the Cards

Not surprisingly, Bryan has always been interested in building things. Growing up on a “big, old farm” in rural Iowa, he had plenty of room to play. “We were in the middle of nowhere,” Bryan remembers, “with lots of space to do whatever we wanted. I was always making something, using things like sticks or bales of hay.”

Bryan’s grandfather taught him how to stack cards. Bryan’s two interests — building and card stacking — soon combined. But stacking in his family’s farmhouse was challenging. “Our old house had wood floors that weren’t all level,” he reports. “And they weren’t very firm. When people walked around, it was like ‘earthquake action.’ It was a challenge to build something that wouldn’t fall down immediately.”

Bryan constructed tower after tower; he went through a lot of trial and error before he built anything taller than himself. When he placed a few decks of cards on top of his grid, he discovered how strong it was. Bryan’s towers began to grow taller.

How Tall Is Too Tall?

Bryan’s first Guinness World Record for the world’s tallest card tower came in the spring of 1992, when he was in high school. Learning that the world record was 12 feet 10 inches, Bryan built a slim tower that topped out at 14 feet 6 inches. Done as a project for his geometry class, it took him 40 hours and 208 decks of cards. Since then he’s gone on to win world records for even taller buildings. His latest winner measured 25 feet 3.5 inches and used about 2,400 decks of cards. The building, which tapered to a high, narrow point, had 131 stories.

Why don’t these towers fall down? The key is in a good solid base, a repeating pattern of stories, and a tapering top. Bryan likes to point out how card buildings resemble real ones. They are built cell by cell, story by story. The separate parts make one strong whole. The heavier the building, the stronger and more stable it is. But the weight can’t all be at the top.

After spending so much time building something so cool, Bryan admits it’s sometimes painful to see his structures destroyed. But he compares his work to the building of a sandcastle or an ice sculpture.

“They wouldn’t be as special if they were permanent,” he points out. “My buildings are like snowdrifts, or clouds in the sky. They can’t last forever.

1.According to the article, which natural structure is a model for Bryan’s card structures?

A. A sand dune.B. A honeycomb.

C. A snowdrift.D. A thundercloud.

2.What was Bryan’s first world record?

A. The tallest card tower.B. The widest card dome.

C. The heaviest card house.D. The sturdiest card structure.

3.Bryan’s hobby is the result of combining which two boyhood interests?

A. Plant cells and honeycombs.

B. World records and geometry.

C. Building things and stacking cards.

D. Playing cards and designing houses.

4.Why was it a challenge for Bryan to build card structures in his family’s farmhouse?

A. The floors of the house were uneven.

B. The ceilings in the house were too low.

C. The floors of the house were slippery.

D. The windows in the house were windy.

5.In the underlined sentence, the word “tapered” means the top of the building was_________.

A. olderB. shinierC. strongerD. thinner

My daughter Allie is leaving for college in a week. Her room is piled with shopping bags filled with blankets, towels, jeans, sweaters. She won’t talk about going.

I say, “I’m going to miss you,” and she gives me one of her looks and leaves the room. Another time I say, in a voice so friendly it surprises even me: “Do you think you’ll take your posters and pictures with you, or will you get new ones at college?”

She answers, her voice filled with annoyance, “How should I know?”

　My daughter is off with friends most of the time. Yesterday was the last day she’d have until Christmas with her friend Katharine, whom she’s known since kindergarten. Soon, it will be her last day with Sarah, Claire, Heather... and then it will be her last day with me.

　My friend Karen told me, “The August before I left for college, I screamed at my mother the whole month. Be prepared.”

　I stand in the kitchen, watching Allie make a glass of iced tea. Her face, once so open and trusting, is closed to me. I struggle to think of something to say to her, something meaningful and warm. I want her to know I’m excited about the college she has chosen, that I know the adventure of her life is just starting and that I am proud of her. But the look on her face is so mad that I think she might hit me if I open my mouth.

　One night — after a long period of silence between us — I asked what I might have done or said to make her angry with me. She sighed and said, “Mom, you haven’t done anything. It’s fine.” It is fine — just distant.

　Somehow in the past we had always found some way to connect. When Allie was a baby, I would go to the day-care center after work. I’d find a quiet spot and she would nurse — our eyes locked together, reconnecting with each other.

　In middle school, when other mothers were already regretting the distant relationship they felt with their adolescent daughters, I hit upon a solution: rescue measures. I would show up occasionally at school, sign her out of class and take her somewhere — out to lunch, to the movies, once for a long walk on the beach. It may sound irresponsible, but it kept us close when other mothers and daughters were quarrelling. We talked about everything on those outings — outings we kept secret from family and friends.

　When she started high school, I’d get up with her in the morning to make her a sandwich for lunch, and we’d silently drink a cup of tea together before the 6:40 bus came.

　A couple of times during her senior year I went into her room at night, the light off, but before she went to sleep. I’d sit on the edge of her bed, and she’d tell me about problems: a teacher who lowered her grade because she was too shy to talk in class, a boy who teased her, a friend who had started smoking. Her voice, coming out of the darkness, was young and questioning.

　A few days later I’d hear her on the phone, repeating some of the things I had said, things she had adopted for her own.

　But now we are having two kinds of partings. I want to say good-bye in a romantic way. For example, we can go to lunch and lean across the table and say how much we will miss each other. I want smiles through tears, bittersweet moments of memory and the chance to offer some last bits of wisdom.

But as she prepares to depart, Allie has hidden her feelings. When I reach to touch her arm, she pulls away. She turns down every invitation I extend. She lies on her bed, reading Emily Dickinson until I say I have always loved Emily Dickinson, and then she closes the book.

Some say the tighter your bond with your child, the greater her need to break away, to establish her own identity in the world. The more it will hurt, they say. A friend of mine who went through a difficult time with her daughter but now has become close to her again, tells me, “Your daughter will be back to you.”

“I don’t know,” I say. I sometimes feel so angry that I want to go over and shake Allie. I want to say, “Talk to me — or you’re grounded!” I feel myself wanting to say that most horrible of all mother phrases: “Think of everything I’ve done for you.”

Late one night, as I’m getting ready for bed she comes to the bathroom door and watches me brush my teeth. For a moment, I think I must be brushing my teeth in a way she doesn’t approve of. But then she says, “I want to read you something.” It’s a brochure from her college. “These are tips for parents.”

I watch her face as she reads the advice aloud: “ ‘Don’t ask your child if she is homesick,’ it says. ‘She might feel bad the first few weeks, but don’t let it worry you. This is a natural time of transition. Write her letters and call her a lot. Send a package of candies...’ ”

Her voice breaks, and she comes over to me and buries her head in my shoulder. I stroke her hair, lightly, afraid she’ll run if I say a word. We stand there together for long moments, swaying. Reconnecting.

I know it will be hard again. It’s likely there will be a fight about something. But I am grateful to be standing in here at midnight, both of us tired and sad, toothpaste spread on my chin, holding tight to—while also letting go of—my daughter who is trying to say good-bye.

1.Why is there a period of silence between the author and Allie one night?

A. Allie is tired of the author’s suggestions.

B. The author is angry with Allie’s rudeness.

C. Allie is anxious about talking about leaving.

D. The author is ready to adjust her way of parenting.

2.How did the author deal with the possible distance with Allie when Allie was in middle school?

A. She would chat with Allie till late at night.

B. She would invite Allie and her friends home.

C. She would visit Allie at school and take her out.

D. She would communicate with Allie by telephone.

3.It can be inferred from the passage that__________.

A. Allie is emotional and only has a few good friends

B. the author is not satisfied with the college Allie has chosen

C. there is a lack of communication between the author and Allie

D. there are different attitudes to parting between the author and Allie

4.What Allie reads to the author is__________.

A. the tips to parents on how to educate their children

B. the suggestion on how to deal with the generation gap

C. the tips to parents on when they depart with their children

D. the suggestion on how to ease the homesickness of children

5.The author doesn’t say anything to Allie when they are standing together because_________.

A. she can’t read Allie’s mind

B. she is afraid that Allie will leave

C. she is too excited to speak a word

D. she doesn’t know how to speak to Allie

6.From the underlined part in the last paragraph we can know that___________.

A. the tie between the author and Allie is broken

B. Allie doesn’t need the author’s care any more

C. the author expects Allie to live an independent life

D. the author will keep a close relationship with Allie as before

下面文章中有5個(gè)段落需要添加首句（第61～65題）。請(qǐng)從以下選項(xiàng)（A、B、C、D、E和F）中選出適合各段落的首句，并在答題紙上將該選項(xiàng)標(biāo)號(hào)涂黑。選項(xiàng)中有一項(xiàng)是多余選項(xiàng)。

A. It’s bonding time.

B. It’s time for family updates.

C. It can keep kids out of trouble.

D. It offers all kinds of activities.

E. It’s healthy for the whole family.

F. It’s a chance to resolve problems.

The Importance of Family Dinnertime

Over the past few years, more and more families are making great efforts to have regular family meals because it is very important.

1.__________________ Kids who live in families that eat dinner together regularly are less likely to be involved in risky behaviors. According to statistics, children who don’t eat dinner with their families are 61% more likely to use alcohol, tobacco or illegal drugs. By contrast, children who eat dinner with their families every night of the week are 20% less likely to drink, smoke or use illegal drugs.

2.__________________ Families who eat dinner together regularly are more likely to have stronger, happier family relationships. As families struggle to find amounts of quality time together, family dinnertime provides the opportunity for both. When families hang out together and communicate, they grow strong and healthy.

3._________________ Families who eat dinner together regularly can keep in touch with each others’ lives. Everyone — kids and parents alike — can keep up-to-date during your family dinnertime on what is going on with school, jobs, family life and friends.

4.__________________ A regular family dinnertime provides natural opportunities for planning and problem solving. Scheduling family meeting times to discuss planning, needs and problem solving can be difficult. A regular family mealtime can offer a natural solution to the challenge.

5.__________________ Kids are likely to receive better nutrition when eating dinner regularly with their families. A simple, but true rule applies — when kids eat with their families, they eat better. A family dinnertime means kids are more likely to eat a nutritionally balanced meal, lower in sugar and fat content, than if they prepare or purchase meals on their own.