在这个自私的世界里，
一个人唯一不自私的朋友，
唯一不抛弃他的朋友，
唯一不忘恩负义的朋友，
就是他的狗。
不论主人是贫穷还是富有，
高贵还是卑贱，
狗，都会守在主人的身边，
忠贞不渝，直至死亡。
老狗和汉克
Two Lost Souls
鲍勃·特伦 / Bob Toren
“Did you hear that？” the old dog shouted.
They all ran to the front of their kennel doors to see if someone was coming to “pick them”.
“Sorry，” he said to the other dogs as his ears fell down from their perked position. “I could have sworn I heard voices saying， ‘Isn’t he cute？ It’s Christmas， can’t we take him home with us？ ’”
“You must have been dreaming again old man，” said the dog in the cage next to him. “Anyway， what’s the big deal about getting picked up as a Christmas gift？ We’ve all been through that routine and look where it got us.”
“Just once， I’d like to feel the warmth of a hand stroking my head，” said the old dog. “I’d like to be the one who kisses the tears off a sad face. I’d like to curl up next to a fire instead of this cold concrete. It hurts my bones.”
He curled up and sighed as the others said， “The only place you’re going to find that is in your dreams， old man. ”
Hank’s wife had only been gone a year but the pain was as fresh as if time had stood still.
He was an old man now， alone and longed for the comfort that he knew no other person would ever be able to give to him again. What would his life become without her by his side？
Hank’s cupboards were close to bare now and， although he didn’t want to go out， he knew he should at least pick up the basics. He drove slowly down the side streets for freeway driving had become too challenging.
Suddenly， the car started chugging and sputtering until finally the engine quit altogether. One of the basic needs he forgot was fuel for the car！ So he coasted over next to the curb， spotting a building within walking distance. Hopefully， they’d let him use their phone.
He walked into an office area and rang the bell for service but no one came. He spotted another door going outside， failing to notice the sign posted “Employees Only”.
As Hank walked out， he was overwhelmed by yaps， barks and insane jumping from dogs all sizes and shapes. He then realized he had unintentionally gone to the dog shelter.
Slowly he walked down the concrete aisle looking for an attendant.
Three kennels down on the right， the old dog calmly sat there. Why should the old dog get excited？ No one would want him. But， he sensed a need and couldn’t resist offering a kind look and a gentle wag of the tail.
As Hank neared the old dog’s cage， he laced his fingers through the chain link to steady his gait until the first feeling of comfort he’d remembered in over a year came from a wet nose and lick across his arthritic fingers.
Just then a voice of authority sounded and Hank jumped.
“I’m sorry， sir， you aren’t supposed to be in this area！” she said.
Luckily Hank didn’t know he had walked into the “final area” where unclaimed dogs were scheduled to be put down.
There went the nudge and lick thing again. Hank looked down to the most pleading eyes he’d ever seen.
Ignoring the attendant’s order to leave， Hank asked if he could see the dog closer. Her demeanor changed completely and her sternness melted away. She had forced herself to be this way so she could do the part of her job she despised.
She brought the old dog out and instantly the two souls — once so lost — found reason to hope.
Hank’s cupboards were now filled， a warm fire crackled and the old dog smiled inside as he remembered “only in your dreams”. Closing his eyes he felt Hank’s hand stroking his head whispering “sleep in heavenly peace”.
It was Christmas after all.
“你们听见声音了吗？”老狗呼喊道。
其他的狗都跑到狗屋门口，去确认是否有什么人来“领养它们”。
“对不起，”老狗对它们说，就在说话的时候老狗的耳朵耷拉了下去。“我甚至可以发誓我确实听到有人说，‘瞧它有多聪明伶俐啊！现在是圣诞节了，咱们把它带回家好不好？”
“你—定又是在做白日梦了，老东西。”旁边狗屋里的狗说：“不管怎么说，让人家当做圣诞礼物带走，没有什么值得高兴的。我们都体验过这样的事情，但看看我们现在不还是这个样子吗？”
“哪怕就一次，我想体验—下一只温暖的手来触摸我的头，”老狗说，“我想吻去一张满是伤心的脸上的眼泪。我想偎依在炉火旁，而不是待在这冷冰冰的水泥地上，待在这里使我的骨头酸痛。”
其他的狗对它说：“老东西，你只能在梦里找到那个你想象的地方。”一听他们这么说，老狗把身子蜷缩起来，叹了口气。
汉克的妻子刚刚去世一年，那种思念的痛苦丝毫没有减退，好像时间都静止了。
他现在年纪大了，孤伶伶一个人，期盼得到安慰，而他明白不会再有人能够再次赋予他安慰。妻子不在身边陪伴，他的生活会是什么样子？
汉克的食品橱里差不多空无一物了，虽然他不想外出，可他明白他最起码也得去买些最基本的物品……他在边道上慢悠悠开着车，要是在公路开车，对他来说可是件很有挑战性的事情。
忽然，车子发出嘎嚓声，后来是噼啪声，最终发动机停工了。他连汽车行驶所必需的燃料都给忘了！他把车停在路边，看到附近有一幢建筑物，他走着就能过去。他满怀希望地走过去，希望他们能让他打个电话。
他来到一个办公区域，于是他按了服务铃，但是没有人出来。他向外走时，看到另一扇门，但没有看到门上挂着的牌子——“员工专用”。
正当汉克刚要走出来时，他听到不同种类、活蹦乱跳的狗发出的狂吠声。他这才明白自己不经意间来到了狗的收容所。
他慢慢地沿着水泥路面走廊向前走，想发现一位工作人员。
老狗就安静地坐在汉克右边的第三个狗屋里。老狗为什么会兴奋呢？任何人都不会要它。可它感觉到一种需求，情不自禁地给出一个友好的目光，轻轻地摆摆尾巴。
汉克接近老狗的窝，停了下来，为了站稳，他抓住狗屋的钢丝网。这时，他感到一只湿润的鼻子，蹭他患有关节炎的手指，他立刻感觉到一种慰藉，这是他一年来第一次体会到的。
正在这时，一个威严的声音突然传到汉克的耳朵里，他被吓了一跳。
“先生，对不起，您不可以到这个地方来。”她说。
幸运的是，汉克不清楚他已经到达“终点区”——被抛弃的狗集中在这里，等候结束生命。
老狗又一次轻轻地靠过去，舔着汉克，他低头看到他平生见过的最让人心碎的乞求目光。
汉克不顾工作人员让他离开的要求，他问工作人员他能否更近些看看这条狗。工作人员的态度发生了很大的转变，严厉的表情不见了。她强迫自己装出那样一种面孔，只是为了这份她讨厌的工作。
她把老狗拿出来，刹那间——曾无比失落的两个灵魂——发现了点燃起希望之火的动力。
汉克的食品橱现在满是食物，壁炉里温暖的火焰噼里啪啦地响着，一回想到同伴们说的“只能是在你的梦中”的那句话，老狗就开心地微笑。老狗合上眼睛，汉克一边小声吟唱《在天堂般的宁静中睡吧》，一边轻抚它的头。
终究是圣诞节呀。
心灵小语
世界那么大，我们那么小，却能遇见你所要遇见的，没有早一步，也没有晚一步，那就让这一对迷途的灵魂相互依偎吧。它们终将抵达希望之地。
记忆填空
1. Hank' s cupboards were close to bare now and， he didn’t want to go out， he he should at least pick up the basics. He slowly down the side streets for freeway driving had become too challenging.
2. So he coasted over to the curb， spotting a building within walking . Hopefully， they'd let him their phone.
3. Her demeanor completely and her sternness melted away. She had forced herself to be this so she could do the part of her she despised.
佳句翻译
1. 我想偎依在炉火旁，而不是呆在这冷冰冰的水泥地上。
译
2. 妻子不在身边陪伴，他的生活会是什么样子？
译
3. 他这才明白自己不经意间来到了狗的收容所。
译
短语应用
1. Hank’s wife had only been gone a year but the pain was as fresh as if time had stood still.
as……as：和……一样
造__________________
2. He spotted another door going outside， failing to notice the sign posted “ Employees Only ”.
fail to：未能
造__________________
3. It was Christmas after all.
after all：毕竟，终究
造__________________
无辜的流浪者
Innocent Homeless
洛里·S. 莫尔 / Lori S. Mohr
The hastily scrawled sign on the crumpled cardboard read： BROKE—NEED DOG FOOD. The desperate young man held the sign in one hand and a leash in the other as he paced back and forth on the busy corner in downtown Las Vegas.
Attached to the leash was a husky pup no more than a year old. Not far from them was an older dog of the same breed， chained to a lamppost. He was howling into the brisk chill of the approaching winter evening， with a wail that could be heard for blocks. It was as though he knew his own fate， for the sign that was propped next to him read： FOR SALE.
Forgetting about my own destination， I quickly turned the car around and made a beeline back toward the homeless trio. For years， I've kept dog and cat food in the trunk of my car for stray or hungry animals I often find. It's been a way of helping those I couldn't take in. It's also what I've used to coax many a scared dog off the road to safety. Helping needy animals has always been an automatic decision for me.
I pulled into the nearest parking lot and grabbed a five pound bag of dog food， a container of water and a twenty-dollar bill from my purse. I approached the ragged-looking man and his unhappy dogs warily. If this man had somehow hurt these creatures or was using them as come-ons， I knew my anger would quickly take over. The older dog was staring up at the sky， whining pitifully. Just before I reached them， a truck pulled up alongside of them and asked how much the man wanted for the older dog.
“Fifty bucks，” the man on the corner replied， then added quickly， “but I really don't want to sell him.”
“Is he papered？”
“No.”
“Is he fixed？”
“No.”
“How old is he？”
“Five. But I really don’t want to sell him. I just need some money to feed him.”
“If I had fifty bucks， I'd buy him.” The light turned green， and the truck sped off.
The man shook his head and continued dejectedly pacing the sidewalk. When he noticed me coming in his direction， he stopped walking and watched me approach. The pup began wagging his tail.
“Hi，” I offered， as I drew nearer. The young man's face was gentle and friendly， and I could sense just by looking in his eyes that he was someone in real crisis.
“I have some food here for your dogs，” I said. Dumbfounded， he took the bag as I set down the water in front of them.
“You brought water， too？” he asked incredulously . We both knelt down next to the older dog， and the puppy greeted me enthusiastically
“That one there is T.C.， and this one's Dog. I'm Wayne.”The sad， older dog stopped crying long enough to see what was in the container.
“What happened， Wayne？” I asked. I felt a bit intrusive， but he answered me directly and simply. “Well， I just moved out here from Arizona and haven't been able to find work. I'm at the point where I can't even feed the dogs.”
“Where are you living？”
“In that truck right there.” He pointed to a dilapidated old vehicle that was parked close by. It had an extra long bed with a shell， so at least they had shelter from the elements.
The pup had climbed onto my lap and settled in. I asked Wayne what type of work he did.
“I’m a mechanic and a welder，” he said， “But there’s nothing out here for either. I've looked and looked. These dogs are my family； I hate to have to sell them， but I just can’t afford to feed them.”
He kept saying it over and over. He didn’t want to sell them， but he couldn't feed them. An awful look came over his face every time he repeated it. It was as if he might have to give up a child.
The time seemed right to casually pass over the twenty-dollar bill， hoping I wouldn't further damage his already shaky pride. “Here. Use this to buy yourself something to eat.”
“Well， thanks，” he slowly replied， unable to look me in the face. “This could get us a room for the night， too.”
“How long have you been out here？”
“All day.”
“Hasn’t anyone else stopped？”
“No， you’re the first.” It was late afternoon and quickly getting dark. Here in the desert， when the sun dropped， the temperature would dip into the thirties.
My mind went into fast-forward as I pictured the three of them going without even a single meal today， perhaps for several days， and spending many long， cold hours cooped up in their inadequate ， makeshift shelter.
Seeing people beg for food isn’t anything new in this city. But this man stood out because he wasn’t asking for food for himself. He was more concerned with keeping his dogs fed than with his own welfare. As a pet-parent of nine well-fed and passionately loved dogs of my own， it hit a deep chord in me.
I don’t think I’ll ever really know what came over me at that moment， inspiring me to do what I did next， but I just knew it was something I had to do. I asked him if he'd wait there for a few minutes until I returned. He nodded his head and smiled.
My car flew to the nearest grocery store. Bursting with urgency， I raced in and took hold of a cart. I started on the first aisle and didn’t quit until I reached the other side of the store. The items couldn’t be pulled off the shelves fast enough. Just the essentials， I thought. Just food that will last a couple of weeks and sustain their meager existence. Peanut butter and jelly. Bread. Canned food. Juice. Fruit. Vegetables. Dog food. More dog food (forty pounds， to be exact). And chew toys. They should have some treats， too. A few other necessities and the job was done.
“The total comes to $102.91. ” said the checker. I didn't bat an eye. The pen ran over that blank check faster than I could legibly write. It didn't matter that the mortgage was due soon or that I really didn't have the extra hundred dollars to spend. Nothing mattered besides seeing that this family had some food. I was amazed at my own intensity and the overwhelming motivation that compelled me to spend a hundred dollars on a total stranger. Yet， at the same time， I felt like the luckiest person in the world. To be able to give this man and his beloved companions a tiny bit of something of which I had so much opened the floodgates of gratitude in my own heart.
The icing on the cake was the look on Wayne's face when I returned with all the groceries. “Here are just a few things... ”I said as the dogs looked on with great anticipation. I wanted to avoid any awkwardness， so I hastily petted the dogs.
“Good luck to you，” I said and held out my hand.
“Thank you and God bless you； now I won’t have to sell my dogs.” His smile shone brightly in the deepening darkness.
It’s true that people are more complicated than animals， but sometimes they can be as easy to read. Wayne was a good person， someone who looked at a dog and saw family. In my book， a man like that deserves to be happy.
Later， on my way home， I purposely drove past that same corner. Wayne and the dogs were gone. But they have stayed for a long time in my heart and mind. Perhaps I will run into them again someday. I like to think that it all turned out well for them.
一个年轻人绕着拉斯维加斯市中心繁忙的街角踱来踱去，他表情绝望，一只手举着皱巴巴的纸板，上面潦草地写着：身无分文——需要狗食；另一只手牵着狗链子。
狗链上拴着一只不满一岁的爱斯基摩小狗，离他们不远的灯柱上，系着一只大些的相同品种的狗。严冬将至，它在凛冽的寒风中嚎叫着，那悲惨的叫声数里外都能听见，它似乎知道自己的命运。它的身旁立着一个牌子，写着“待售”的字样。
我暂时忘了自己的目的地，迅速掉转车头，径自驶向这三个无家可归者。我车子的后备箱一直都存有猫狗的粮食，多年来我一直有这种习惯。我以这种方式来帮助那些我不能收养的动物，这些猫狗粮也能帮助我引诱那些受惊吓的狗脱离马路上的危险。帮助那些在困境中的动物一直是我的自发行为。
我把车子停在最近的地方，拿出一包5磅重的狗食和一罐水，又从钱包里掏出20美元。我小心翼翼地靠近那个衣衫褴褛的年轻人和他那可怜的狗狗们。如果这个人伤害了这些动物，或者把它们当成博得怜悯的工具，我就会很气愤。大狗正可怜地仰天呜嚎着。就在我走近他们之前，一辆卡车在他们旁边停下来，问大狗卖多少钱。
“50美元，”角落里的年轻人答道，然后很快补充了一句，“但我确实不想卖。”
“它有执照吗？”
“没有。”
“它阉割过吗？”
“没有。”
“它多大了？”
“5岁。我真不愿把它卖掉，我只是需要一些钱给它买点吃的。”
“如果我有50美元，就会把它买下。”绿灯亮了，卡车加速开走了。
年轻人摇摇头，继续无精打采地在人行道上踱来踱去。注意到我向他走来，他便停下来看着我，小狗也开始摇晃尾巴。
“嗨。”我走近后，和他打了个招呼。年轻人文雅而友好，从他的眼神可以看出，他确实遇到了麻烦。
“我这里有一些食物可以给你的狗吃。”我说。他愣了愣，拿起袋子，我又把水放在他们面前。
“你还带来了水？”他惊讶地问。我们在大狗旁边蹲下，小狗欢喜地跟我打招呼。
“那个叫TC，它叫狗狗，我叫韦恩。”那条悲伤的大狗早就停止了吠叫，来看罐子里的东西。
“发生了什么事，韦恩？”我随口问道，而后又感到有些冒失，但他却答得简单而干脆。“哦，我刚从亚利桑那搬到这里，还没找到事做。这个节骨眼儿上，我连狗都养不起。”
“那你现在在哪住？”
“就住在那边的卡车里。”他指着停在附近的一辆破旧不堪的车子说。车身很长，还有个外壳，至少他们暂时有了避风港。
小狗爬到我的膝盖上，伏着不动了。我问韦恩做哪类工作。
“我做技工和焊工，”他说，“但这里找不到相关的工作，我找了好久。这两只狗是我唯一的亲人，我真的不想卖掉它们，可又实在没法养活它们。”
他一遍又一遍地说着：他不想卖掉它们，但又养不起它们。每次他重复这些话时，脸上都露出痛苦的表情，就像他不得已要卖掉自己的孩子一样。
这个时候，不经意地递给他一张20元似乎是最合适不过了，希望我不会进一步刺伤他已经颤抖着的自尊。“哦，拿这个给自己买些吃的。”
“噢，谢谢，”他缓缓答道，目光不敢直视我，“这都够我们找个房间过夜了。”
“你在这里已经多久了？”
“整整一天了。”
“没人停下来帮你们吗？”
“没有，你是第一个。”当时已是傍晚，夜幕很快降临了。太阳落山时，这边沙漠地区的温度会降到华氏30多度。
我的脑子飞快地转着，心想今天他们可能没吃上一顿饭，或许很多天没吃了，只是长久地待在他们暂时勉强当做栖息之所的破车内，冻得缩成一团。
在这个城市里看到乞丐是司空见惯的事，但这个人却与众不同，因为他不是为自己乞讨。他更关心的是他的狗，而把自己的温饱问题置之度外。作为一个养着九只狗，并且非常喜爱宠物狗的人，我被深深感动了。
我始终不明白当时是什么样的感情激励着我去采取下一步行动，我只是觉得，这是我必须做的事。我问他能否在那里等我回来，他点点头，露出一丝笑容。
我开车飞驰到最近的食品杂货店，像是被谁催促着一样，我疾步走进去，推了一辆手推车。我从第一个货架开始，一直走到店的另一头才停下来。我恨不得以更快的速度把那些东西拿下货架。我想，就只买些必需品，够他们吃几个星期，能维持他们生存的食物。花生油和果冻、面包、罐头、果汁、水果、蔬菜、狗食、更多的狗食（准确地说，是40磅。），还有磨牙玩具，他们的生活需要乐趣。我还买了一些其他的必需品，终于大功告成了。
“一共是102.91美元。”收银员说。我眼睛眨都不眨一下，几乎看都没看支票就签了字。不久就要缴分期房款了，我并不在意这计划之外的100多美元花销。没有什么能比解决这个家庭的温饱问题更重要的事情了。我惊异于自己这种不可遏制的动机，驱使自己在一个素不相识的人身上花掉100美元。然而，与此同时，我又觉得自己是世界上最幸运的人。感谢上苍，能让我有机会给这个人和他所爱的伴侣一点点东西，而我却有许多这样的东西。
当我拿着这些东西回来时，韦恩喜出望外。“这点东西……”我说。这时那两只狗眼巴巴地望着我，我急忙去抚摩它们，以避免尴尬。
“祝你好运。”我把手伸向他说道。
“谢谢你，愿上帝保佑你，现在我不用卖狗了。”他的笑容在渐浓的夜色中更灿烂了。
有时，人确实比动物复杂得多，但有时他们却又很容易读懂。韦恩是个好人，他把狗看成是家庭成员。在我的信仰字典里，这样的人理应获得快乐。
之后，在回家的路上，我又特意从那个街角驶过。韦恩和那些狗都已经走了，但是他们却将长久地驻留在我心间。也许有朝一日我会再次邂逅他们，那时他们会一切如意的。
心灵小语
在这个城市里看到乞丐是司空见惯的事，但这个人却与众不同，因为他不是为自己乞讨。他更关心的是他的狗，而把自己的温饱问题置之度外。他的善良拯救了他和他的狗。
记忆填空
1. My mind went into fast-forward as I pictured the three of them going even a single meal today， perhaps for days， and spending many long， hours cooped up in their inadequate ， makeshift shelter.
2.“Here are just a few things... ”I as the dogs looked on with great anticipation. I wanted to any awkwardness， so I hastily petted the .
3. It’s that people are more complicated animals， but sometimes they can be as to read.
佳句翻译
1. 我暂时忘了自己的目的地，迅速掉转车头，径自驶向这三个无家可归者。
译
2. 我小心翼翼地靠近那个衣衫褴褛的年轻人和他那可怜的狗狗们。
译
3. 当我拿着这些东西回来时，韦恩喜出望外。
译
短语应用
1. Attached to the leash was a husky pup no more than a year old.
no more than：不超过，不多于，至多
造__________________
2. Not far from them was an older dog of the same breed， chained to a lamppost.
far from：远非，远离
造__________________
我的朋友麦克
A Friend of Mine
J. B. 卡林顿 / J.B. Garrington
The first time I met him I was impressed by the far-away look in his eyes. They were such sad eyes， eyes that made you think of old sorrows， old dreams， old mysteries of life. They were certainly the windows of his soul. We were soon on familiar terms and I noticed a quick response to a kindly spoken word， a manner that expressed keen interest in any small attention. You know the type， I’m sure， the sort that unless you try entirely absorbed in yourself you can not help liking， cannot help wanting to be kind to.
Our mere acquaintance developed early into a warm friendship and we had numerous walks together. His was ever a silent friendship and only by his manner were you sure he was enjoying the beauty and freedom of the country roads， the lush meadows， the cooling waters of the brooks we met. I used to enjoy watching his enjoyment， his feeling of companionship， his sense of being in friendly company， and I find myself responding to his moods and cheerful abandonment to the joy of the present moment. There was no guile in his heart， evidently， and with him I often forgot the pressing cares of the years， the youth that I’d left along those same roads， along those same brooks. I， too， could walk with a lighter step， feel the impulse to run and jump and let cold care go hang. When sad eyes sparkles and every step betrays enjoyment it’s hard to be a clam and not hear singing voices， feel new thrills in old veins. At least this is the way it always seemed to me when I walked with my friend.
I’ve seen him sitting quietly， pensively， as if trying to look beyond the distant blue hills， and I wished I could read his thoughts， and fathom the soul in those sad brown eyes. They were always appealing， the eyes of a trusting helpless one， one dependent on human kindness， and I couldn’t think of anyone wanting to be rude to him， or being unwilling to share a friendly meal if he happened to be around when the dinner bell rang. He was so appreciative of attention， though he never overdid it， or made you feel that he was only nice for what there was in it. So many can be nice when they are looking for some profit. This fellow was more thankful for a kind word than for any other gift. He simply couldn’t be happy without believing the human world was a friendly one. You have met this kind. I don’t mean the whiners， the fellows that beg， but the genuinely kind soul that gives himself and his friendship and love and only asks a return in kind.
My friend was ever a wanderer and I thought his wanderings were chiefly in search of sympathetic and friendly companionship. He was quick to see when his advances were understood and then his whole manner changed from one of sadness to one of joy and animation. I confess I liked his friendship. It flattered me. I was glad I was one of his sort， and that we could meet and exchange greetings， walk the roads together， and without a word on his part， be conscious we were enjoying each other’s society.
I was from the first in doubt as to his exact nationality. He appeared to be of mixed races， with predominating characteristics that pointed back somewhere to British ancestors. There was a remainder of John Bull in the squareness of his jaw and in his sturdy body， and on one or two occasions I discovered that he was entirely capable of defending himself from uncalled for rudeness. He eventually lived on the Shakespearian principle of：
Beware of entrance to a quarrel；
but being in Bear that the opposed may beware of three.
He never walked by my old home without stopping to exchange greetings， never passed me on the road that he was not ready to wigwag kindly a sentiment. He was known to many passer-bys and few but had a kind word for him. I have left the old town and the old boyhood home I loved， but I shall hope as the years go by and my friend reaches the middle years and beyond， that he may always have some place to call home， some place to end his days in comfort.
The older years are so full of sad memories for all of us. True friends are few and the honest simple souls are easily forgotten in the stress of life these modern days.
Of course Mike is only a dog， but somehow I can’t help believing that dogs have souls and that our own are made better by our response to their honest love and faith.
我第一次看见它，就被它蒙胧的眼神吸引住了。那是一双忧郁的眼睛，会使你想到古老的哀痛，古老的梦境，以及古老的生命秘密。毫无疑问，那就是它灵魂的窗口。我们很快成了熟客，我注意到，它对亲和的语言会有很快的反应，而且对任何小事都抱有热切的兴趣。我确定，对于这种类型，除非你完全把自己投入进去，否则你无法不欣赏、无法不亲近它。
我们很快就从熟客发展成了好朋友，经常一起散步。在任何时候，它都沉默寡言，但仅仅能从它的行为举止可以确定它在享受着乡村小道的美景和无拘无束，青葱的草地，我们在这清凉的溪水边相遇。我习惯欣赏它的快乐，它的友谊，它那成为一位朋友的感觉，我发现自己对它的心情、快乐地享受着此时喜悦的状态有了回应。很明显，它的心里没有诡计，有它的陪伴，我多年来的压抑都会消失，会忘却在这条小路和小溪所走过的年轻时代。我也可以放缓步伐，感受奔跑和跳跃的刺激，让一切苦闷随风而逝。当哀伤的眼睛闪烁着光芒时，每一个步伐都出卖了喜悦时，很难平静，也听不到歌声，年老的皱纹体会着新的颤动。至少这是在我和我的朋友一起散步时候的情形。
我看到它安静地、忧虑地坐在那里，好像是在眺望远处蓝色山岗以外的东西，我希望我能够读懂它的想法，希望能从它忧郁的蓝色眼神中探究它的心思。它们一直很吸引人，那双信赖而又无助的眼神，它依赖人类的仁慈，我不认为有谁会粗鲁地对待它，或是在进餐时，有它在旁边，而不愿与它共享。它常怀感激，虽然从不夸大，也不让你觉得它仅仅是因为有好处才表示友善。其实许多人在它们寻找好处时都会很和善。它们对待亲和言语的感激程度超过了得到任何其他礼物。它因相信人类是友好的而感到幸福。你们一定遇到过这样的人。我并不是特指那些哀诉者和乞求者，而是那些真诚仁慈的人，他们奉献出自己的友谊和爱，却只要求一个同样仁慈的回应。
我的朋友曾经是一个流浪者，我认为它的旅程主要是寻找富有同情心和友好的伙伴。它很快就可以注意到它的接近得到了理解，于是它的整个状态从哀伤转到喜悦和朝气。我坦白对它友谊的依赖，这让我很满意。我很高兴我跟它同属一个类别，我们能够相遇和互致祝福，一起散步，不用它的语言，我们都意识到我们满意于对方的世界。
起初，我就对它过去所处的环境表示怀疑。它作为一种混合物种出现，其主要特征表明它的祖先是属英国。它会让人联想到方形下巴的约翰？布尔，还有其强健的体魄，在一两次场合中，我发现他完全有能力抵御无礼的粗暴行为来保护它自己。最终，它生存在莎士比亚的法则中：
谨慎争吵；
但是争吵一旦爆发，就要让对方怕你三分。
它只要经过我的老房，就一定会驻足与我互致祝福，只要在路上与我碰面，它都会友好地摇着尾巴来对我表示敬意。它被许多路人所熟知，没有人不跟它搭话。我离开了老镇和我爱的童年时的老屋，但是我希望随着时光的流逝，我的朋友已年至或已超过中年，我祝愿它总是有许多称为家的地方，最终使它舒适地度过余生。
过去的日子对于我们来说，充斥着哀伤的回忆。真正的朋友很少，在这个现代化生活的重压下，正直、率真的灵魂很容易被遗忘。
当然，麦克仅仅是一只狗，但是我不得不相信狗是有灵魂的，我们通过对它们那样真诚的爱和信任的回应，我们自己也会越来越好。
心灵小语
我习惯欣赏它的快乐，它的友谊。有它的陪伴，我可以放缓步伐，让一切苦闷随风而逝。至少这是在我和我的朋友一起散步的时候。一个人和一条狗，你们知道这是因为什么——爱和信任把我们连接在了一起。
记忆填空
1. When sad eyes sparkles and every step betrays enjoyment it’s to be a clam and not hear singing voices， feel thrills in old veins. At least this is the way it always seemed to me when I with my friend.
2. He never walked by my old home without stopping to greetings， passed me on the road that he was not to wigwag kindly a sentiment.
3. True friends are few and the simple souls are easily forgotten in the of life these days.
佳句翻译
1. 至少这是在我和我的朋友一起散步时候的情形。
译
2. 我们都意识到我们满意于对方的世界。
译
3. 过去的日子对于我们来说，充斥着哀伤的回忆。
译
短语应用
1. My friend was ever a wanderer and I thought his wanderings were chiefly in search of sympathetic and friendly companionship.
in search of：寻找
造__________________
2. ... if he happened to be around when the dinner bell rang.
happen to be：恰巧是，碰巧是
造__________________
患难见真情
A Friend in Need Is a Friend Indeed
佚名 / Anonymous
Brownie and Spotty were neighbor dogs who met every day to play together. Like pairs of dogs you can find in most any neighborhood， these two loved each other and played together so often that they had worn a path through the grass of the field between their respective houses.
One evening， Brownie’s family noticed that Brownie hadn’t returned home. They went looking for him with no success. Brownie didn’t show up the next day， and， despite their efforts to find him， by the next week he was still missing.
Curiously， Spotty showed up at Brownie’s house alone. Barking， whining and generally pestering Brownie’s human family. Busy with their own lives， they just ignored the nervous little neighbor dog.
Finally， one morning Spotty refused to take“no” for an answer. Ted，Brownie’s owner， was steadily harassed by the furious， adamant little dog. Spotty followed Ted about， barking insistently， then darting toward a nearby empty lot and back， as if to say， “Follow me！ It’s urgent！”
Eventually， Ted followed the frantic Spotty across the empty lot as Spotty paused to race back and bark encouragingly. The little dog led the man under a tree， past clumps of trees， to a desolate spot， a half mile from the house. There Ted found his beloved Brownie alive， one of his hind legs crushed in a steel leg hold trap. Horrified， Ted now wished he’d taken Spotty’s earlier appeals seriously. Then Ted noticed something quite remarkable.
Spotty had done more than simply led Brownie’s human owner to his trapped friend. In a circle around the injured dog， Ted found an array of dog food and table scraps—which were later identified as the remains of every meal Spotty had been fed that week！
Spotty had been visiting Brownie regularly， in a single-minded quest to keep his friend alive by sacrificing his own comfort. Spotty had evidently stayed with Brownie to protect him from predators， snuggling with him at night to keep him warm and nuzzling him to keep his spirits up.
Brownie’s leg was treated by a veterinarian and he recovered. For many years thereafter， the two families watched the faithful friends frolicing and chasing each other down that well-worn path between their houses.
布朗尼和斯波蒂是邻居，它们每天都会在一起玩耍。与几乎能在任何邻里间找到的成对的狗一样，它们互相倾慕，常在一起，以至于两家之间的草地上已经被它们踏出了一条小路。
一天傍晚，布朗尼的主人发现它没有回家，找了一番也没找到。第二天，依然没有见到布朗尼。尽管人们还在努力寻找，可直到第二周，还是没有找到。
让人不解的是，斯波蒂独自跑到布朗尼的主人家，吠叫、哀嚎，还总是缠着布朗尼的主人们，但他们忙于自己的事，根本不理会邻居家这只精神有点儿问题的小狗。
一天早上，斯波蒂再也不满意被拒绝。这只暴怒的、不依不饶的小狗围着布朗尼的主人特德叫个不停。斯波蒂死死跟着特德，汪汪地叫着，然后冲到近处的空地上，又跑回来，似乎在说：“跟我来！有情况！”
最后，特德跟着这只发疯似的小狗穿过空地，小狗停步奔回，吼叫着，催特德快点儿。他领着特德从一棵树下穿过，经过树丛，最后在离房子半英里远的一处荒地停了下来。在那里，特德发现他心爱的布朗尼还活着，只是一条后腿被一个钢制捕捉器夹着。特德很吃惊，为当初没有认真对待斯波蒂的求助而感到后悔。随后，他看到了惊人的一幕。
斯波蒂不仅把布朗尼的主人带到了它被困的朋友跟前，而且在受伤的布朗尼的身旁，特德还发现了一圈狗食和餐桌上的残羹剩饭——后来证实那是那个星期他们每餐喂斯波蒂吃剩下的食物！
斯波蒂一直定时来看望布朗尼，下决心要让它的朋友活下去，为了朋友，它不辞劳苦。显然，斯波蒂陪伴着布朗尼，以免其他捕食动物侵袭它，夜里偎依着它，把温暖送给它，用鼻子拱它使它振作精神。
兽医把布朗尼的腿伤治好了。此后多年中，两家邻居不时会看到这对忠实的朋友嬉戏玩耍，在两家房子之间的小路上你追我赶。
心灵小语
在布朗尼被困的日子里，斯波蒂陪伴着它，以免其他动物侵袭它，夜里偎依着它，把温暖送给它，用鼻子拱它使它振作精神。患难见真情。当你需要他，他就在身边，不离不弃，这才是真正的朋友。
记忆填空
1. One evening， Brownie’s family noticed that Brownie hadn’t home. They went looking for him with success. Brownie didn’t show up the next day， and， despite their efforts to him， by the next week he was still missing.
2. Horrified， Ted now wished he’d Spotty’s earlier appeals seriously. Then Ted noticed quite remarkable.
3. Spotty had stayed with Brownie to protect him from predators， snuggling with him at to keep him warm and nuzzling him to keep his spirits .
佳句翻译
1. 这只暴怒的、不依不饶的小狗围着布朗尼的主人特德叫个不停。
译
2. 斯波蒂一直定时来看望布朗尼。
译
3. 此后多年中，两家邻居不时会看到这对忠实的朋友嬉戏玩耍。
译
短语应用
1. Finally， one morning Spotty refused to take“ no”for an answer.
refuse to：拒绝做某事
造__________________
2. ... snuggling with him at night to keep him warm and nuzzling him to keep his spirits up.
keep up：保持；继续；维持；跟上（时代）
造__________________
老农夫的卡车
That Old Black Dog
基姆·格尔登 / Jim Golden
Once upon a time in my life， way up on this great big hill there lived this really old farmer. That old man didn’t have any cows， horses， pigs or chickens， in fact， that old famer didn’t even have an old farm wife to help take care of him. Everyone around town knew that this old guy was a very mean person. He was so mean that he could hardly wait for the rain to stop so he could run outside and chase all the birds away who were coming out to sing and eat grain on his farm. That is just how mean this old farmer really was.
“Ain’t gonna shoot you right here because it’s too big a mess， ” said the farmer， as he lowered his shot gun. Then he reached down and grabbed the scared old female dog by the back of the neck and drug her on her side all the way over to his pick-up truck. The old dog was just a-crying and a-whining the whole time. But that did not matter to that mean old farmer. He just took the old black dog and flung her， as hard as he could， into the back of his old run down pick-up. Then hit her in the rump a couple of times with the butt of his shot gun until she laid down. Then he jumped in the truck and headed as fast as he could down the long winding dirt road， towards the woods.
Faster and faster the old farmer drove， just a talking and cursing out loud the entire time. That beat up old truck was a-slipping and a-sliding all over the wet dirt road. First sliding this away and then sliding that away. Then all of a sudden the truck slid sideways and ran completely off the dirt road， hit the ditch and began rolling over and over. There were bushs， leaves， dirt and all kinds of stuff being flung everywhere. Finally everything became very still and quiet， except for the crackle of a small fire that was coming out from underneath the old pick-up truck.
“Please， somebody help me！” yelled the old farmer. But there was nobody to help him， not even that old black dog who had now ran away in order to save herself.
Once again， the old man was all alone， just like he had been for the past thirty years on his farm. The fire was getting hotter and hotter and closer and closer. The old man finally laid his head back down into the dirt， softly cursing， crying to himself and trying to fling a little dirt with his fingers onto the fire. His hands were burnt and dirty and his overalls were singed and smoking. Finally he just gave up， gave one last cough and slowly lowered his face into the dirt and ash.
All of a sudden he heard voices coming from the road behind him. Very slowly he raised his blackened face and looked back towards the road， as best he could being up side down. Here came that old black dog hobbling as fast as she could towards him. Behind that dog were five or six people running towards the burning truck.
I really do not know much about what happened after that because I moved away several days later because my small clothing store in Brunswick， Georgia， had been broken into so many times that I had to shut it down. But as I was in the Hazlehurst area， where my distributor was located and after being gone for three years， I decided to stop at the local diner for a cup of coffee. As I sat there quietly， looking out the window， I noticed this burnt old black pick-up truck with it’s side caved in sitting across the street at the local feed store. Two young boys were loading bales of hay into the back. I looked down the long wooden loading ramp to where there were three or four old weather beaten rocking chairs and to my surprise I saw this one legged，laughing old farmer man， his crutches leaning against the wall， hugging this three legged， one eared， dirty old black dog who was licking him in the face， as though she liked him！
在我的生命里，我曾遇到一个居住在这座大山上的老农夫。这个老人既没有奶牛、马匹、猪，也没有鸡群。实际上，这个农夫甚至没有一个老农妇来照顾他。镇上的每一个人都知道这个老人是个很吝啬的家伙。雨还没停，他就迫不及待地跑出去驱赶那些在他的农场上唱歌、吃谷粒的小鸟。你看，这个老农夫是多么吝啬。
“我无法全部射中你们，因为你们是一大群。”农夫说着放下了他的枪。接着，他把手伸到那只被吓坏的老母狗的脖子后面，把它一路侧身拖到他那辆小型运货卡车的旁边。那只老狗发出阵阵哀嚎。然而那个吝啬的老农夫对这些不管不顾，只是拖着这只老黑狗，使出全身的力气，将它扔到那辆破旧的货车上。接着，他用枪托在它的屁股上打了几下，让它躺下。然后，他跳上卡车，以最快的速度在曲折泥泞的路上朝树林冲去。
农夫越开越快，嘴里不停地唠叨，时不时地高声咒骂几句。那辆破旧的老卡车在肮脏而泥泞的路上颠簸着。最初在这条路上滑行，不一会儿又滑到那条路上。突然，卡车向路边滑去，完全滑出了泥泞的大路，一下撞在了排水沟上，接连翻滚了好几下。那里全是灌木丛、树叶、烂泥和各种各样的被扔掉的垃圾。最后，一切都异常安静，只有那辆破旧货车底部的那一小团火焰发出了劈啪的声响。
“有没有人呀？谁来帮帮我！”老农夫大声地喊叫着。然而没有一个人过来帮他，甚至连那只老黑狗为了活命也跑掉了。
老人再一次孤零零的了，就像他在农场度过的30年。那团火变得越来越大，离他越来越近。最终，老人一头倒在泥泞中，无力地咒骂着，叫喊着，试着用手指抓些小泥块扔向火团。大火烧到了他的双手，变得异常肮脏，他的外衣也被烧焦了，冒着烟。最终，他只好放弃了，他最后咳了一下，缓缓地把脸埋入烂泥和灰土中。
突然，他听到身后的路上传来了声音。他极其缓慢地抬起他那又脏又黑的脸，尽力撑起来向身后的那条路望去。不远的地方，那只老黑狗正一瘸一拐地尽快向他跑过来。那只狗的后面还跟着五六个人，也向燃烧的卡车跑来。
我不太清楚后来发生了什么事情，因为没过几天，我就从那里搬走了。我在佐治亚州布伦斯威克的小服装店多次遭窃，我只好关门停业。然而3年后，我回到里兹尔赫斯特地区——我的销售点就在那里，我决定停下来，在当地路边的小餐馆喝一杯咖啡。当我静静地坐在那里，向窗外望去时，我看到这辆被烧过的又黑又旧的运货卡车，此时它就停在当地饮料商店前的街上，一侧已经塌陷坏掉。两个小伙子正在往它后面装成捆的干草。我顺着长长的木制装载坡道看去，那里有三四把破旧的椅子，经过风吹日晒，已经摇摆不定。令我备感吃惊的是，我看到了那个只有一条腿、满脸笑容的老农夫，他的拐杖靠在墙上，他则紧紧地抱着那只剩下三条腿、一只耳朵的肮脏的老黑狗，老黑狗正舔着他的脸，仿佛很喜欢他似的！
心灵小语
在这个自私的世界里，一个人唯一不自私的朋友，唯一不抛弃他的朋友，唯一不忘恩负义的朋友，就是他的狗。不论主人是贫穷还是富有，高贵还是卑贱，狗，都会守在主人的身边，忠贞不渝，直至死亡。
记忆填空
1. Once ， the old man was all alone， just he had been for the past thirty years on his farm. The fire was getting and hotter and closer and closer.
2. All of a he heard voices coming from the road behind him. Very slowly he raised his blackened and looked back towards the road， as best he being up side down.
3. As I sat there ， looking out the window， I noticed this burnt old black pick-up with it' s side caved in sitting across the street at the feed store.
佳句翻译
1. 我曾遇到一个居住在这座大山上的老农夫。
译
2. 老人再一次孤零零的了，就像他在农场度过的 30年。
译
3. 令我备感吃惊的是，我看到了那个只有一条腿、满脸笑容的老农夫。
译
短语应用
1. ... he could run outside and chase all the birds away who were coming out to sing and eat grain on his farm.
chase away：赶走；驱逐
造__________________
2. ... Georgia， had been broken into so many times that I had to shut it down.
shut down：关闭；停工
造__________________
乔的奇遇记
The Adventure of a Little Dog
马歇尔·桑德斯 / Marshall Sauders
The first winter I was at the Morrises， I had an adventure. It was a week before Christmas， and we were having cold， frosty weather. On that day， I was lying beside the fire， getting tired.
When the door opened， and a young girl called Bessie Drury came in.
She had a cap on and a shawl thrown over her shoulders， and she had just run across the street from her father’s house. “Oh， Mrs. Morris，” she said， “will you let Laura come over and stay with me tonight？ Mamma has just gotten a telegram from Bangor， saying that her aunt， Mrs. Cole， is very ill， and she wants to see her， and papa is going to take her there by tonight’s train， and she is afraid I will be lonely if I don’t have Laura.”
“Very well，” said Mrs. Morris， “I think Laura would like to go.”
“Yes， indeed，” said Miss Laura， smiling at her friend. “I will come over in half an hour.”
“Thank you， so much，” said Miss Bessie. And she hurried away.
After she left， Mr. Morris looked up from his paper. “There will be some one in the house besides those two girls？”
“Oh， yes，” said Mrs. Morris， “ Mrs. Drury has her old nurse， who has been with her for twenty years， and there are two maids besides， and Donald， the coachman， who sleeps over the stable. So they are well protected.”
“Very good，” said Mr. Morris. And he went back to his paper.
When Miss laura came down stairs with her little satchel on her arm， I got up and stood beside her. “Dear， old Joe，” she said， “you must not come.” Then she shut the door and went out.
I had to step back then， but I cried and whined， I felt dreadfully. I walked up and down the floor and ran to the window， and howled.
“Mother，” Mr. morris said， turning to his wife， “let the dog go.”
“Very well，” she said， in a puzzled way. “Jack， just run over with him.”
Jack and I were soon at the front door, and he rang the bell and gave me in charge of the maid who opened it. I walked softly into a front room, and there I found my dear Miss Laura.
“Hadn’t we better go to bed?” said Miss Laura, when the hall clock struck eleven.
“Yes, I suppose we had.” said Miss Bessie.
“Where is this animal to sleep?”
“I don’t know,” said Miss Laura, “he sleeps in the stable at home, or in the kennel with Jim.”
“Suppose Susan makes him a nice bed by the kitchen stove?” said Miss Bessie.
Susan made the bed, but I was not willing to sleep in it. I barked so loudly when they shut me up alone, that they had to let me go upstairs with them.
Miss Laura was almost angry with me, but I could not help it. I had come over there to protect her, and I wasn’t going to leave her, if I could help it.
The two girls talked for a long time, and then they fell asleep. Just before Miss Laura dropped off, she forgave me, and put down her hand for me to lick as I lay on a fur rug close by her bed.
I was very tired, and I had a very soft and pleasant bed, so I soon fell into a heavy sleep. But I waked up at the slightest noise. Once Miss Laura turned in bed, and another time Miss Bessie laughed in her sleep, and again, there were queer crackling noises in the frosty limbs of the trees outside, that made me start up quickly out of my sleep.
There was a big clock in the hall, and every time it struck I waked up. Once, just after it had struck some hour, I jumped up out of a sound nap. I had been dreaming about my early home. Jenkins was after me with a whip, and my limbs were quivering and trembling as if I had been trying to get away from him.
I sprang up and shook myself. Then I took a turn around the room. The two girls were breathing gently; I could scarcely hear them. I walked to the door and looked out into the hall. There was a dim light burning there. The door of the nurse’s room stood open. I went quietly to it and looked in. She was breathing heavily and muttering in her sleep.
I went back to my rug and tried to go to sleep, but I could not. Such an uneasy feeling was upon me that I had to keep walking about. I went out into the hall again and stood at the head of the staircase. I thought I would take a walk through the lower hall, and then go to bed again.
The Drurys’ carpets were all like velvet, and my paws did not make a rattling on them as they did on the oil cloth at the Morrises. I crept down the stairs like a cat, and walked along the lower hall, smelling under all the doors, listening as I went. There was no night light burning down here, and it was quite dark, but if there had been any strange person about I would have smelled him.
I was surprised when I got near the farther end of the hall, to see a tiny gleam of light shine for an instant from under the dining-room door. Then it went away again. The dining-room was the place to eat. Surely none of the people in the house would be there after the supper we had.
I went and sniffed under the door. There was a smell there; a strong smell like beggars and poor people. It smelled like Jenkins. It was.
What was the wretch doing in the house with my dear Miss Laura? I thought I would go crazy. I scratched at the door, and barked and yelped. I sprang up on it, and though I was quite a heavy dog by this time, I felt as light as a feather.
It seemed to me that I would go mad if I could not get that door open. Every few seconds I stopped and put my head down to the doorsill to listen. There was a rushing about inside the room, and a chair fell over, and some one seemed to be getting out of the window.
This made me worse than ever. I did not stop to think that I was only a medium-sized dog, and that Jenkins would probably kill me, if he got his hands on me. I was so furious that I thought only of getting hold of him.
In the midst of the noise that I made, there was a screaming and a rushing to and fro upstairs. I ran up and down the hall, and half-way up the steps and back again. I did not want Miss Laura to come down, but how was I to make her understand? There she was, in her white gown, leaning over the railing, and holding back her long hair, her face a picture of surprise and alarm.
“The dog has gone mad,” screamed Miss Bessie. "Nurse, pour a pitcher of water on him."
The nurse was more sensible. She ran downstairs, her night-cap flying, and a blanket that she had seized from her bed, trailing behind her. “There are thieves in the house,” she shouted at the top of her voice, “and the dog has found it out.”
She did not go near the dining-room door, but threw open the front one, crying, “Policeman! Policeman! Help, help, thieves, murder!”
Such a screaming as that old woman made! She was worse than I was. I dashed by her, out through the hall door, and away down to the gate, where I heard some one running. I gave a few loud yelps to call Jim, and leaped the gate as the man before me had done.
There was something savage in me that night. I think it must have been the smell of Jenkins. I felt as if I could tear him to pieces. I have never felt so wicked since. I was hunting him, as he had hunted me and my mother, and the thought gave me pleasure.
Old Jim soon caught up with me, and I gave him a push with my nose, to let him know I was glad he had come. We rushed swiftly on, and at the corner caught up with the miserable man who was running away from us.
I gave an angry growl, and jumping up, bit at his leg. He turned around, and though it was not a very bright night, there was light enough for me to see the ugly face of my old master.
He seemed so angry to think that Jim and I dared to snap at him. He caught up a handful of stones, and with some bad words threw them at us. Just then, away in front of us, was a queer whistle, and then another one like it behind us. Jenkins made a strange noise in his throat, and started to run down a side street, away from the direction of the two whistles.
I was afraid that he was going to get away, and though I could not hold him, I kept springing up on him, and once I tripped him up. Oh, how furious he was! He kicked me against the side of a wall, and gave me two or three hard blows with a stick that he caught up, and kept throwing stones at me.
I would not give up, though I could scarcely see him for the blood that was running over my eyes. Old Jim got so angry whenever Jenkins touched me, that he ran up behind and nipped his calves, to make him turn on him.
Soon Jenkins came to a high wall, where he stopped, and with a hurried look behind, began to climb over it. The wall was too high for me to jump. He was going to escape. What shall I do? I barked as loudly as I could for some one to come, and then sprang up and held him by the leg as he was getting over.
I had such a grip, that I went over the wall with him, and left Jim on the other side. Jenkins fell on his face in the earth. Then he got up, and with a look of deadly hatred on his face, pounced upon me. If help had not come, I think he would have dashed out my brains against the wall, as he dashed out my poor little brothers’ against the horse’s stall. But just then there was a running sound. Two men came down the street and sprang upon the wall, just where Jim was leaping up and down and barking in distress.
I saw at once by their uniform and the clubs in their hands, that they were policemen. In one short instant they had hold of Jenkins. He gave up then, but he stood snarling at me like an ugly dog. “If it hadn’t been for that cur, I’d never been caught. Why—” and he staggered back and uttered a bad word, “it’s my own dog.”
“More shame to you,” said one of the policemen, sternly; “what have you been up to at this time of night, to have your own dog and a quiet minister’s spaniel dog a chasing you through the street?”
Jenkins began to swear and would not tell them anything. There was a house in the garden, and just at this minute some one opened a window and called out, “Hallo, there, what are you doing?”
“We’re catching a thief, sir,” said one of the policemen, “leastwise I think that’s what he’s been up to. Could you throw us down a bit of rope? We’ve no handcuffs here, and one of us has to go to the lock-up and the other to Washington street, where there’s a woman yelling blue murder; and hurry up, please, sir.”
The gentleman threw down a rope, and in two minutes Jenkins’ wrists were tied together, and he was walked through the gate, saying bad words as fast as he could to the policeman who was leading him. “Good dogs,” said the other policeman to Jim and me. Then he ran up the street and we followed him.
As we hurried along Washington street, and came near our house, we saw lights gleaming through the darkness, and heard people running to and fro. The nurse’s shrieking had alarmed the neighborhood. The Morris boys were all out in the street only half clad and shivering with cold, and the Drurys’ coachman, with no hat on, and his hair sticking up all over his head, was running about with a lantern.
The neighbors’houses were all lighted up, and a good many people were hanging out of their windows and opening their doors, and calling to each other to know what all this noise meant.
When the policeman appeared with Jim and me at his heels, quite a crowd gathered around him to hear his part of the story. Jim and I dropped on the ground panting as hard as we could, and with little streams of water running from our tongues. We were both pretty well used up. Jim’s back was bleeding in several places from the stones that Jenkins had thrown at him, and I was a mass of bruises.
Presently we were discovered, and then what a fuss was made over us. “Brave dogs! Noble dogs!” everybody said, and patted and praised us. We were very proud and happy, and stood up and wagged our tails, at least Jim did, and I wagged what I could. Then they found what a state we were in. Mrs.Morris cried, and catching me up in her arms, ran in the house with me, and Jack followed with old Jim.
We all went into the parlor. There was a good fire there, and Miss Laura and Miss Bessie were sitting over it. They sprang up when they saw us, and right there in the parlor washed our wounds, and made us lie down by the fire.
“You saved our silver, brave Joe,” said Miss Bessie, “just wait till my papa and mamma come home, and see what they will say. Well, Jack, what is the latest?” as the Morris boys came trooping into the room.
“The policeman has been questioning your nurse, and examining the dining-room, and has gone down to the station to make his report, and do you know what he has found out?” said Jack, excitedly.
“No,what?” asked Miss Bessie.
“Why that villain was going to burn your house.”
Miss Bessie gave a little shriek. “Why, what do you mean?”
“Well,” said Jack, “they think by what they discovered, that he planned to pack his bag with silver, and carry it off; but just before he did so he would pour oil around the room, and set fire to it, so people would not find out that he had been robbing you.”
“Why we might have all been burned to death,” said Miss Bessie. “He couldn’t burn the dining-room without setting fire to the rest of the house.”
“Certainly not，” said Jack， “that shows what a villain he is.”
“Do they know this for certain， Jack？” asked Miss Laura.
“Well， they suppose so； they found some bottles of oil along with the bag he had for the silver.”
“How horrible！ You darling old Joe， perhaps you saved our lives，” and pretty Miss Bessie kissed my ugly， swollen head. I could do nothing but lick her little hand， but always after that I thought a great deal of her.
The next day the Drurys came home， and everything was found out about Jenkins. He was made to confess all this. Then for his wickedness he was sent to prison for ten years， and I hope he will get to be a better man there， and be one after he comes out.
在莫里斯家的第一个冬天，我经历了一场惊心动魄的冒险。那是圣诞节的前一个星期，天气有雾又寒冷。那天，我懒懒地躺在火炉旁，累极了。
门突然打开了，一个叫贝西？德鲁里的年轻女孩走了进来。
她从马路对面她父亲的屋子里跑出来，头上戴着帽子，脖子上围着围巾。“哦，莫里斯夫人，”她说，“你可以今晚让劳拉过来陪陪我吗？妈妈刚才接到从班格传来的电报，说她的姨妈，也就是科尔夫人重病，她要去看她，爸爸今晚陪她一起乘火车去，妈妈怕我没有劳拉陪伴会孤单。”
“好吧，” 莫里斯夫人说道， “我想劳拉很乐意陪你的。”
“那当然了，”劳拉小姐笑着对她的朋友说道，“半小时后我到你那里。”
“太谢谢你了。” 说完，贝西匆忙走了。
她走后，莫里斯先生从报纸里探出头来，说道：“除了这两个女孩子，屋子里还有其他人吗？”
“哦，当然，” 莫里斯夫人说道，“德鲁里夫人有个老奶妈，已经跟随她20年了，还有两个女仆，车夫唐纳德就睡在马厩里，他们会保护好她的。”
“很好。”莫里斯先生说完，又把头埋进报纸里了。
当劳拉小姐挎着小包下楼时，我起身跟上了她。“乔，你得回去。”她说道，然后关上门走了。
我不得不回去，但是我觉得糟糕透了，大声叫着，呜咽着。我在地板上走来走去，又跑到窗户边，大声咆哮着。
“天哪！”莫里斯先生对妻子说，“让这只狗去吧。”
“好吧。”莫里斯夫人疑惑地说，“杰克，带它过去。”
我和杰克很快来到了德鲁里家，他按了门铃，把我交给了开门的女仆。我蹑手蹑脚地走到前面的屋子里，在那里我找到了亲爱的劳拉小姐。
大厅的钟指向了11点。“我们是不是该睡觉了？”劳拉小姐问道。
“是该睡了。”贝西小姐说道。
“乔睡哪里呢？”
“不知道，”劳拉小姐说道，“在家时，它睡马厩里，或者跟吉姆睡自己的窝里。”
“要不让苏珊在厨房火炉边准备个舒服的床，它睡那里。”贝西小姐说。
苏珊把床准备好了，但我不愿睡那里，我大叫着，于是他们不得不在劳拉小姐的床边铺了块柔软的毯子，让我睡在上面。
劳拉小姐几乎要对我发火了，但是我不能控制自己。我来这里是要保护她的，我必须和她在一起。
两个女孩聊了很久后睡了。劳拉小姐在睡前原谅了我，她把手放下来，让我舔了舔。
我累了，躺在柔软而又舒适的床上，很快入睡了。不过，丝丝的嘈杂声把我吵醒了，一次是劳拉小姐在床上翻身，一次是贝西小姐的梦中笑声。结着霜的树叶被风吹打着，发出奇怪的沙沙声。很快，我睡意全无。
大厅里有只大钟，它一敲响，我就醒来。有一次，不知它敲响了多少次，我从深睡中被惊醒。我梦到我又回到了以前的家，詹金斯拿鞭子追赶我，我吓得腿发抖，好像正想方设法逃脱。
我跳了起来，把自己摇醒，绕着房间转了一圈。几乎听不到两个女孩那轻盈的呼吸声。我走到门外，看了看大厅，那里有盏在燃烧的微弱的灯。奶妈的房门开着，我轻轻地走进去看了看。她睡得很沉，嘴里嘟嘟囔囔不知在说什么。
我又回到我的毯子上睡觉，但睡不着了。一种不祥之感笼罩着我。我被迫站了起来，重新走到楼梯上站着。我觉得该到大厅里转转，然后再睡。
与莫里斯家的地毯不同，德鲁里家的如天鹅绒般柔软，我走在上面，不会发出咯吱咯吱的响声。我像猫一样溜到楼下，在大厅转悠了一会儿，又把所有的门闻了个遍，仔细听了听周围的动静。这里非常黑，没有灯，但要是有陌生人在周围，我肯定能察觉。
当我晃悠到大厅尽头那扇最远的门边时，我发现餐厅的门缝里透出一丝微弱的灯光，忽然灯光又立即消失了。我吃惊极了，餐厅是大家吃饭的地方，这家所有的人都吃过晚餐了，应该没有人的啊！
我走上前去，在门底下闻了闻，有一股强烈的气味，像是从乞丐身上散发出来的，闻起来好像是詹金斯的，没错，是詹金斯！
这个卑鄙的人要对我亲爱的劳拉小姐做什么？我快发疯了。我用爪子抓着门，我咆哮着，叫喊着。我跳起来，用身体撞着门，尽管我已是一只很重的狗了，但是我仍然感到自己像羽毛一样轻盈。
当时我觉得如果我不把门撞开，我就会发疯。每隔几秒钟，我都停下来把头靠在门槛上，听听里面的动静。屋子里一片混乱，椅子被撞倒了，好像有人正试图从窗户跳出去。
这使我比以前叫得更疯狂。当时我来不及想我只是一只中等身材的狗，如果他抓住我，很可能会杀了我。我愤怒极了，只想抓住他。
在我制造 出如此大的噪音时，一声尖叫从楼上传来，接着有人的走动声，我在大厅里来回跑动，一会儿跑上楼梯，一会儿又下来。我不想让劳拉小姐跑下来，但我怎能让她理解我当时的心情呢？她站在那里，穿着白色的睡衣，靠在栏杆上，用手抚摸着自己的长发，脸上露出既惊讶又恐惧的表情。
“这只狗已经疯了，”贝西小姐尖叫道，“奶妈，往它身上泼点儿水。”
但奶妈当时要清醒得多。她跑下楼，头上的睡帽已经飞了，身后拖着一条她从床上抓到的毯子。“屋里有贼，”她扯着嗓子叫着，“是这只狗发现的。”
她没有走到餐厅的门旁，而是打开前面的门，叫道：“警察！警察！救命，救命，有贼，有人行凶！”
她的尖叫声如此之大，以至于让人无法相信这是一个老妇人发出的！我急急忙忙地跟在她后面，穿过大厅的门，来到大门口，这时我听到有人在跑。我大叫了几声，唤来吉姆，跳到门口，赶在那个人前面。
那天晚上我真的是疯了。我确信那是詹金斯的气味。我觉得自己好想要把他撕成碎片，我从来没有这样强烈的复仇感。我紧紧地追赶着他，就像他当年追赶着我和妈妈那样，我当时真是兴奋极了。
老吉姆很快赶上了我，我用鼻子拱了它一下，让它明白我很高兴它来了。我们飞奔着，在拐角处我们抓到了这个倒霉蛋，他竟然想逃脱我的爪子！
我愤怒地咆哮着，跳上前去咬住他的腿。他转过身来，尽管那个夜晚不是很亮，但我依然能看到旧日主人那张丑陋的脸。
看到吉姆和我竟然咬他，他好像恼怒极了。他抓起一把石子，掷向我们，嘴里还骂骂咧咧的。正在那时，我们前面传来一声奇怪的口哨声，接着身后又传来一声类似的声音。詹金斯的喉咙里发出一声奇怪、含糊不清的声音，然后他跑到了旁边的街上，远离了那两声口哨声的方向。
我怕他逃走，尽管我抓不住他，但还是一次又一次地跳起来，跟上他，有一次竟然把他绊倒了。当时他是多么恼怒啊！他把我踢到墙上，然后抓起一根棍子，使劲地打了我几下，接着又把石头扔向我。
尽管鲜血模糊了我的双眼，我几乎看不到他，但还是没有放弃。而只要詹金斯碰到我，老吉姆就狂怒不止，扑到他的身后，死死咬住他的小腿，和他拼起来。
詹金斯很快逃到高墙边上，停在那里，他急急忙忙地看了看身后，开始往墙上爬。墙太高了，我爬不上去。他要逃走了。怎么办？我放开嗓子，大声叫着，希望有人来帮我。他企图爬到墙上，但我跳了起来，抱住了他的腿。
我死死咬住他，竟然被他拖到了墙的另一边，而老吉姆被留在墙的另一边。詹金斯的脸撞到了地上，然后他爬起来，一脸的仇恨，朝我冲来。要是没有人来帮忙，我想他一定会把我的头靠在墙上撞得粉碎，就像在马厩里他把我那些可怜的兄弟的脑浆撞得四处飞溅一样。但是就在那时，传来一阵跑步声，两个男人跑到了这条街上，跃过了高墙，吉姆那会儿正上窜下跳，在绝望中咆哮。
从他们的制服和手中握的警棍，我立刻看出他们是警察。他们很快抓住了詹金斯。他放弃了逃跑，但还像只丑陋的狗那样冲我骂道：“要是没有那条狗，我就不会被抓到。噢——”他摇晃着，后退了几步，嘴里骂道，“这是我自己的狗。”
“你真无耻，”其中一个警察严厉地说道，“这么晚了，你在干什么，惹得自家狗和牧师家温顺的狗满大街追你？”
詹金斯什么都没说，只是嘴里开始诅咒。正在那时，花园的房子里的窗户打开了，一个人叫道：“嗨，你们在干吗呢？”
“我们正在抓小偷，先生，”一个警察说道，“至少我觉得他是小偷，能扔下来根绳子吗？我们没带手铐。我们一个去监狱，一个还要去华盛顿街，有个妇女说那里有人行凶。请快点儿，先生。”
那位绅士扔下来根绳子，不到两分钟，詹金斯的手腕就被绑得牢牢的。“好狗啊。”他被领到门另一侧，边走还边冲领着他的警察快速咒骂。另一个警察对我和吉姆说道。而后，他跑到了街上，我们尾随他过去了。
正当我们急急忙忙沿着华盛顿街走着，快靠近我们自己的房子时，我们看到从黑暗里闪出一丝亮光，接着听到人们来回跑的声音。邻居们已被奶妈的尖叫声惊醒了。莫里斯家的男孩子们全都跑到了街上，他们只穿了一点儿衣服，在寒风中冻得发抖。德鲁里家的车夫没戴帽子，头发都朝上竖着，拿着个灯笼四处跑着。
附近人家的房子全亮灯了，很多人把窗帘拉起，打开自家门，互相打听发生了什么事。
当警察还有我和吉姆出现在人们面前时，一大群人立刻围到警察周围，打探出了什么事。吉姆和我倒在地上，使劲儿地喘气，口水如泉水般从喉咙里流了出来。我们俩都累晕了。吉姆的背上有好几处都流血了，那是被詹金斯的石头砸的，而我也被砸得遍体鳞伤。
人们立即发现了我们，他们发出了阵阵骚动声。“勇敢的狗！高贵的狗！”大家如此称赞着，抚摸着我们。我们既骄傲又开心，站起来摇着尾巴，至少吉姆可以，我呢，则尽我所能地摇着。后来人们发现我们受了重伤。莫里斯夫人大叫着，一把抱起我，冲进了屋子，杰克和老吉姆跟了进来。
我们到了大厅。那边的火很旺，劳拉小姐和贝西小姐都坐在那里。看见我们，她们跳了起来，迅速地清洗了我们的伤口，让我们躺在火炉边。
“你保护了我们的银制餐具，勇敢的乔，”贝西小姐说道，“等我爸爸妈妈回来，他们一定会夸奖你们的。好了，杰克，有什么最新消息？”这时，莫里斯家的男孩子们都挤进了屋。
“警察正在询问你家的奶妈，检查餐厅，他们已经到警察厅做笔录了，你知道他发现了什么？”杰克兴奋地说道。
“不知道，发现了什么？”贝西小姐问道。
“那个恶棍要烧掉你们的房子。”
贝西小姐尖叫了起来，“为什么，你的意思是——”
“哦，”杰克说，“警察调查后认为，他打算把银制餐具装到袋子里带走，在这之前，他要把房子周围泼上汽油，点上一把火，这样人们就不会发现他的罪恶行径了。”
“那样我们所有人都会被烧死的，”贝西小姐说道，“他不可能只烧餐厅，而让别的房间免于火灾。”
“当然了，”杰克说道，“这正说明了他是个十足的恶棍。”
“他们证实这些了吗，杰克？”劳拉小姐问道。
“哦，他们只是猜测，因为他们在他装银器的袋子周围发现了几滴汽油。”
“多恐怖啊！可爱的乔，你救了我们。”漂亮的贝西小姐吻了吻我难看而又红肿的头。我只是舔了舔她的小手，但每次过后我总想多舔她几下。
第二天，德鲁里夫妇回家了，詹金斯的案子也水落石出。詹金斯被迫交代了一切，他被判处10年监禁。我希望他在那里好好改造，出来后做个好人。
心灵小语
你要知道，我做的所有一切都是为了你，即使前面有千难万险我也不怕。你有你的生活，你的朋友，你的工作和娱乐，而我，只有你。
记忆填空
1. When Miss laura came stairs with her little satchel on her arm， I got up and beside her.“Dear， old Joe，”she said，“you must not come.”Then she the door and went out.
2. We were pretty well used up. Jim’s back was bleeding in several places from the stones that Jenkins had thrown him， and I was a of bruises.
3. I could do nothing lick her little hand， but always after that I thought a great deal of her. The day the Drurys came home， and everything was out about Jenkins.
佳句翻译
1. 在莫里斯家的第一个冬天，我经历了一场惊心动魄的冒险。
译
2. 我累了，躺在柔软而又舒适的床上，很快入睡了。
译
3. 我希望他在那里好好改造__________________，出来后做个好人。
译
短语应用
1. I was so furious that I thought only of getting hold of him.
get hold of：抓住；掌握
造__________________
2. I felt as if I could tear him to pieces.
tear... to pieces：撕碎
造__________________
霍莉今天上班吗？
Is Holly Working Today？
佚名 / Anonymous
For Holly and me， it started with a stray kitten. Abandoned in the harsh winter weather， she huddled in a ball on the front steps of our building， an elementary school for emotionally disturbed children where I provided therapy three days a week.
That morning， I kept the kitten in my office while the principal figured out where to take it.
It started as the children soberly traipsed into my office that day for their therapy. When they spotted the kitten， their faces suddenly brightened. Their reticence and tenseness seemed to melt away as they petted the stray， and our sessions were relaxed and open. The kitten’s effect was astounding and， by the end of the day， I was hatching a plan. My dog， Holly， was a gentle， gregarious， well-behaved seven-year-old of mixed parentage. Couldn’t she have the same relaxing effect on the children I counseled？ Enthused， I began paperwork requesting permission to bring Holly to school with me， providing documentation of the benefits of companion animals.
The project was approved， but my supervisor clearly let me know that Holly and I were on trial. The responsibility for any problems with the “dog experiment” would land squarely on my shoulders.
Optimistic nonetheless， I smiled at the signs pasted on my office door as I unlocked it on Holly’s first morning with me at school. “Holly is happy to be here，” the children had carefully stenciled. Already the children were responding positively to the idea of a dog counselor. Holly sniffed out my office， and we settled in for a day of work.
A small boy entered， and he and Holly stared at each other warily. “Does that dog bite？”
“No，” I assured him. “Why don’t you give her a treat？” I handed him a bag of multicolored doggie treats. “Pick any color you like，” I said. The boy chose a red treat and tentatively held it out to Holly. She neatly and gently took the treat， swallowed it quickly and licked the boy’s hand. The boy smiled. Holly’s critical debut had been a success.
After the bell rang， a succession of little visitors came to our door， wing to see Holly. As they took turns handing treats to Holly， she wagged her tail and licked their hands， showing her approval. It was no wonder the children were drawn to her： For many of them， it was their first encounter with unconditional acceptance.
During the days that followed， Holly learned not to bark at the children’s knocks on my office door. I set up a comer for her in my office on a piece of carpet remnant. The children eagerly came to me for their counseling visits， sitting on the floor by Holly and petting， brushing， playing with and confiding in her. As they relaxed with Holly， they let down their defenses. Our counseling sessions became smooth and productive.
Little by little， Holly’s influence reached beyond her little comer of my office. Absences at school began to drop， and the children’s disruptive behaviors softened. Even the teachers ducked in for some pet therapy throughout the day， giving Holly a short pat and restoring their spirits in her presence.
I didn’t realize how loved Holly was， though， until I missed two days of work with strep throat. When I called in sick the first day， expecting a touch of sympathy， I was immediately asked if that meant Holly would have to stay home， too. The second day， I was seriously asked if I could at least send Holly to work in a cab. Apparently， the teachers were tired of answering the question，“Is Holly working today？”
One morning before school， nine-year-old LeMar， a third-grader who visited Holly regularly， was shot and killed in a domestic dispute. His classmates learned of the tragedy while they were still on the school bus， and by the time they arrived at school， they were terrified and in tears.
I hurried to LeMar’s home classroom， Holly trailing behind me. LeMar’s teacher stood there with tears streaming down her face. "My degree didn’t prepare me to handle something like this，" she sobbed. I mustered all my sources and expertise to come up with the right words to soothe them.
“Crying is okay for adults and children，” I began， “especially when something like this happens.” Still seeing the pain on their faces， I continued to tell them that it was okay to be scared， that fear is a natural response. For a while， we talked about how we would miss LeMar. It was at this point that I realized what Holly was doing.
She was working her way around the room， going from child to child—and the teacher—putting her front paws on their laps and stretching up to lick the tears from their faces. Unconsciously， the children hugged her back， running their fingers through her fur with such intensity that she would have gone bald if they’d done it all day. She called no significant attention to herself， but quietly expressed love and consolation. She diligently kept up her silent comfort throughout that long， difficult day.
As I slid into the front seat of my car that afternoon， I leaned back， exhausted from the emotional trauma. I just wanted to be home. Glancing briefly into the backseat， I was surprised to see that Holly had already fallen asleep. She was just as drained as I was， if not more so， and， not for the first time， I felt a pang of guilt. Was a fair to ask my dog to take on the emotional responsibilities of troubled children？Shouldn’t she be allowed to stay home and enjoy the carefree life of a house pet？
Those doubts may be why， even now， I occasionally stop in my rush to leave for school in the morning and，instead of ordering Holly into the car， look at her， asking， “Do you want to go to school today？” When she leaps up eagerly， all wags and excitement， I figure she’s answered that burning question for all of us. Yes， Holly is working today.
对我和霍莉来说，一切源于一只被遗弃的猫。严寒中，它被遗弃在校舍楼前台阶上，冻得身子缩成一团。这所小学是为心理不正常的儿童开设的，我每周在那里提供三天的心理治疗。
那天早上，那只猫留在了我的办公室里，而校长则在考虑如何安置它。
那天，当孩子们神情严肃，带着倦意走进我的办公室开始接受治疗时，故事便开始了。一看到小猫，他们个个眼前一亮。他们抚摸着这只被遗弃的猫，往日的缄默和紧张似乎也随之消失。治疗过程进行得轻松而顺利，这令我很吃惊。那天下班时，我便开始酝酿一项计划。我的霍莉7岁，是只性情温和而又合群、有礼貌的混血狗。它也可以使我的孩子们轻松地接受治疗吗？我满怀热情地打报告，在报告中我引用文献，列举以动物为伴的好处，请求允许我把霍莉带到学校。
虽然我的计划获准了，但校长交代得很清楚，先让我和霍莉试试。对于有关“狗试验”出现的任何问题，我要承担全部责任。
即便这样，我还是很看好这件事。带霍莉到学校的第一天早上，打开办公室门时，我看到了门上的告示，我笑了。孩子们很认真地写道：“霍莉高兴来这里。”他们很高兴让狗充当辅导员。一天的工作开始之前，霍莉把办公室闻了个遍。
一个小男孩走进来，他和霍莉都警惕地注视着对方。“它咬人吗？”他问道。
“不，”我安慰他说，“为什么不喂它吃点东西？”我把一袋各种颜色的狗饼干递给他。“拣个你喜欢的颜色。”我说道。男孩拿了块红色的饼干，试探性地朝霍莉伸出手。霍莉利索而又轻巧地叼住饼干，很快咽了下去，然后舔了舔男孩的手。男孩笑了。霍莉的初次登场表现得十分出色。
铃响后，一群小参观者纷纷来到门前，争着瞧霍莉。孩子们轮流喂它饼干，它摇着尾巴，舔着他们的手，以示感谢。它如此受孩子们欢迎，这一点儿也不奇怪，因为从一开始，霍莉就无条件地接纳了他们。
渐渐地，当听到孩子们的敲门声时，霍莉也不再狂叫不止。为了霍莉，我在屋角铺了块地毯碎头。孩子们积极地来我这里进行心理治疗，他们坐在霍莉身旁，抚摸它，给它梳理毛发，逗它，向它倾诉心声。在与霍莉相处的日子，孩子们身心轻松，而他们的心理界限也完全消失。心理障碍疗程进展顺利，取得了明显效果。
霍莉的影响逐渐地从屋内扩展到办公室外。孩子们的缺勤率开始下降，并且他们也不再那么调皮。甚至教师们也时不时地到我的办公室，想接受宠物治疗，轻拍它一下，在它面前变得精神焕发。
直到我因脓毒性咽喉炎两天没去学校的那一刻，我才知道人们是多么爱霍莉。第一天我打电话请病假，本以为他们会安慰我，谁知对方立刻问我，是不是霍莉也不来了，要待在家里。第二天，学校来电话问我，能否至少让霍莉搭出租车到学校。显然，老师们已烦于回答同样的问题：“霍莉今天上班吗？”
一天早上上课前，定时来看霍莉的9岁的三年级学生勒马尔在家庭争吵中被枪击后死去。同学们在校车上听到了这个噩耗，都很恐惧，以至于到了学校后，个个眼里噙着泪水。
霍莉跟着我匆忙赶到勒马尔的教室。勒马尔的老师泪流满面地站在那里。“我的学位没有教我怎么处理这类事件。”她抽噎着说道。我竭尽全力，想找些恰当的话来安慰他们。
“哭对成年人和孩子来说是应该的，”我说道，“尤其是这种事情发生了的时候。”看到悲痛仍旧浮在他们脸上，我接着告诉他们恐惧也是正常、自然的。我们就勒马尔谈论了一会儿。就在这时，我才注意到霍莉在干什么。
它绕着教室走，从一个孩子到另一个孩子，也到老师那里，它把前爪贴在他们膝上，探身舔去他们脸上的泪珠。孩子们不由地抱住它的背，使劲地用手指揉搓它的毛，要是一天都这样的话，霍莉准会成秃毛狗了。它并不要求受到极大的关注，只是默默把爱和安慰送给人们。在那漫长而又痛苦的一天里，霍莉不知疲倦地默默安慰着人们。
那天下午，我钻进汽车前座坐下来，感情的创伤令我身心憔悴。我只想回家。我回过头，惊奇地发现霍莉已经在后座睡着了。它即使不比我更累，也和我一样筋疲力尽。我的良心再一次受到谴责。让自己的爱犬承担陷入痛苦的孩子们感情上的责任，这公平吗？它是不是该待在家里，享受宠物那悠闲的生活呢？
这些疑惑，可能说明了为什么有时我早上匆忙准备去学校时，要停下来，不是叫霍莉上车，而是看着它，问道：“今天你想去学校吗？”当它急切地跳起，摇着尾巴，激动不已时，我想它已经回答了我们急于想要的答案。是的，霍莉今天上班。
心灵小语
它并不要求受到极大的关注，只是默默把爱和安慰送给人们。在那漫长而又痛苦的一天里，霍莉不知疲倦地默默安慰着人们。但是这些对它是否公平呢，让一只狗承担人类的痛苦？好吧，我得说，霍莉今天上班。
记忆填空
1. Already the children were responding positively to the of a dog counselor. Holly sniffed out my ， and we settled in for a day of work.
2. Little by ， Holly’s reached beyond her little comer of my office. Absences at began to drop， and the children’s disruptive behaviors softened.
3. She was just as drained I was， if not more so， and， not for the first time， I felt a pang of . Was a fair to ask my dog to take on the responsibilities of troubled children？
佳句翻译
1. 它被遗弃在校舍楼前台阶上，冻得身子缩成一团。
译
2. 他们抚摸着这只被遗弃的猫，往日的缄默和紧张似乎也随之消失。
译
3. 在与霍莉相处的日子，孩子们身心轻松，而他们的心理界限也完全消失。
译
短语应用
1. Couldn’t she have the same relaxing effect on the children I counseled？
have effect on：对……有影响
造__________________
2. ... sitting on the floor by Holly and petting， brushing， playing with and confiding in her.
confide in：信任；信赖
造__________________
哑巴盖拉辛
Mumu
伊凡·谢尔盖耶维奇·屠格涅夫 / Tvan S.Turgenev
It was getting towards evening. He walked slowly， watching the water.
All of a sudden he fancied something was floundering in the mud close to the bank. He stooped over， and saw a little white-and-black puppy， who， in spite of all its efforts， could not get out of the water； it was struggling， slipping back， and trembling all over its thin wet little body.
Gerasim picked up the unlucky little dog with one hand， put it into the bosom of his coat， and hurried with long steps homewards.
He went into his garret， put the rescued puppy on his bed， covered it with his thick overcoat， ran first to the stable for straw， and then to the kitchen for a cup of milk. Carefully folding back the overcoat， and spreading out the straw， he set the milk on the bedstead.
The poor little puppy was not more than three weeks old, its eyes were just open—one eye still seemed rather larger than the other; it did not know how to lap out of a cup, and did nothing but shiver and blink. Gerasim took hold of its head softly with two fingers, and dipped its little nose into the milk. The pup suddenly began lapping greedily, sniffing, shaking itself, and choking.
All night long he was waiting on it, keeping it covered, and rubbing it dry. He fell asleep himself at last, and slept quietly and happily by its side.
No mother could have looked after her baby as Gerasim looked after his little nursling. At first she—for the pup turned out to be a bitch—was very weak, feeble, and ugly, but by degrees she grew stronger and improved in looks, and, thanks to the unflagging care of her preserver, in eight months’ time she was transformed into a very pretty dog of the spaniel breed, with long ears, a bushy spiral tail, and large, expressive eyes.
She was devotedly attached to Gerasim, and was never a yard from his side; she always followed him about wagging her tail. He called her Mumu. All the servants in the house liked her, and called her Mumu, too.
She was very intelligent, she was friendly with everyone, but was only fond of Gerasim. Gerasim, on his side, loved her passionately, and he did not like it when other people stroked her; whether he was afraid for her, or jealous—God knows!
She used to wake him in the morning, pulling at his coat; she used to take the reins in her mouth, and bring him up the old horse that carried the water, with whom she was on very friendly terms.
With a face of great importance, she used to go with him to the river; she used to watch his brooms and spades, and never allowed any one to go into his garret.
He cut a little hole in his door on purpose for her, and she seemed to feel that only in Gerasim’s garret she was completely mistress and at home; and directly she went in, she used to jump with a satisfied air upon the bed. At night she did not sleep at all, but she never barked without sufficient cause, like some stupid house-dog, who, sitting on its hind-legs, blinking, with its nose in the air, barks simply from dullness, at the stars, usually three times in succession. No! Mumu’s delicate little voice was never raised without good reason; either some stranger was passing close to the fence, or there was some suspicious sound or rustle somewhere... In fact, she was an excellent watch-dog.
Mumu never went into the mistress’s house; and when Gerasim carried wood into the rooms, she always stayed behind, impatiently waiting for him at the steps, pricking up her ears and turning her head to right and to left at the slightest creak of the door...
One fine summer day the old lady was walking up and down the drawing-room with her dependants. She was in high spirits; she laughed and made jokes. When she came to the window, the lady caught sight of her busily gnawing a bone.
“Mercy on us!” she cried suddenly, “what dog is that? But it’s a charming little dog! Order it to be brought in. Order it to be brought in.”
The companion flew at once into the hall. “Boy, boy!” she shouted, “bring Mumu in at once! Make haste, Stepan!”
Gerasim, who was at that instant in the kitchen, knocking out and cleaning a barrel, turning it upside down in his hands like a child’s drum. Stepan hurriedly explained to him by signs that the mistress wanted the dog brought in to her. Gerasim was a little astonished; he called Mumu, however, picked her up, and handed her over to Stepan.
Stepan carried her into the drawingroom, and put her down on the parquet floor. The old lady began calling the dog to her in a coaxing voice.
Mumu, who had never in her life been in such magnificent apartments, was very much frightened, and made a rush for the door, but, being driven back by the obsequious Stepan, she began trembling, and huddled close up against the wall.
“Mumu, Mumu, come to me, come to your mistress,” said the lady, “come, silly thing... don’t be afraid.”
But Mumu looked round her uneasily, and did not stir. Stepan brought in a saucer of milk, and set it down before Mumu, but Mumu would not even sniff at the milk, and still shivered, and looked round as before.
“Ah, what a silly you are!” said the lady, and going up to her, she stooped down, and was about to stroke her, but Mumu turned her head abruptly, and showed her teeth. The lady hurriedly drew back her hand.
“Take her away,” said the old lady in a changed voice. “Wretched little dog! What a spiteful creature!”
Next morning she ordered steward to be summoned an hour earlier than usual. “Tell me, please,” she said, “what dog was that barking all night in our yard? It wouldn’t let me sleep! We have a yard dog, haven’t we? Well, why more? what do we want more dogs for? And what does the dumb man want with a dog? Who gave him leave to keep dogs in my yard? Yesterday I went to the window, and there it was lying in the flower-garden; it had dragged in nastiness it was gnawing, and my roses are planted there...”
“Yes, Mistress.” The steward whispered some instructions to Stepan, to which Stepan responded with something between a yawn and a laugh.
Five minutes had not passed before Gerasim made his appearance with a huge bundle of hewn logs on his back, accompanied by the inseparable Mumu. Gerasim turned sideways before the door, shoved it open with his shoulder, and staggered into the house with his load. Mumu, as usual, stayed behind to wait for him. Then Stepan, seizing his chance, suddenly pounced on her, like a kite on a chicken, held her down to the ground, gathered her up in his arms, and without even putting on his cap, ran out of the yard with her, got into the first fly he met, and galloped off to a market-place. There he soon found a purchaser, to whom he sold her for a shilling, on condition that he would keep her for at least a week tied up; then he returned at once.
On coming out of the house Gerasim had at once missed Mumu. He never remembered her failing to wait for his return, and began running up and down, looking for her, and calling her in his own way... He rushed up to his garret, up to the hay-loft, ran out into the street, this way and that...
She was lost!
He turned to the other serfs, with the most despairing signs, questioned them about her, pointing to her height from the ground, describing her with his hands... Then Gerasim ran right away out of the yard. It was dark by the time he came back. From his worn-out look, his unsteady walk, and his dusty clothes, it might be surmised that he had been running over half Moscow.
Everyone looked after him, but no one smiled or said a word, and the inquisitive postilion Antipka reported next morning in the kitchen that the dumb man had been groaning all night.
It was the third morning when Gerasim came out of his garret. He came in to his dinner, ate it, and went out again, without a greeting to anyone. His face, which had always been lifeless, as with all deaf-mutes, seemed now to be turned to stone. After dinner he went out of the yard again, but not for long; he came back, and went straight up to the hay-loft.
Night came on, a clear moonlight night. Gerasim lay breathing heavily, and incessantly turning from side to side.
Suddenly he felt something pull at the skirt of his coat. He started, but did not raise his head, and even shut his eyes tighter. But again there was a pull, stronger than before; he jumped up before him, with an end of string round her neck, was Mumu, twisting and turning. A prolonged cry of delight broke from his speechless breast; he caught up Mumu, and hugged her tight in his arms, she licked his nose and eyes, and beard and moustache, all in one instant... He stood a little, thought a minute, crept cautiously down from the hay-loft, looked round, and having satisfied himself that no one could see him, made his way successfully to his garret.
Gerasim had guessed before that his dog had not got lost by her own doing, that she must have been taken away by the mistress’s orders; the servants had explained to him by signs that his Mumu had snapped at her, and he determined to take his own measures. First he fed Mumu with a bit of bread, fondled her, and put her to bed, then he fell to meditating, and spent the whole night long in meditating how he could best conceal her.
At last he decided to leave her all day in the garret, and only to come in now and then to see her, and to take her out at night.
The hole in the door he stopped up effectually with his old overcoat, and almost before it was light he was already in the yard, as though nothing had happened, even—innocent guile!
The dumb man had never shown such energy as on that day; he cleaned and scraped the whole courtyard, pulled up every single weed with his own hand, tugged up every stake in the fence of the flower-garden. In fact, he toiled and labored so that even the old lady noticed his zeal.
Twice in the course of the day Gerasim went stealthily in to see his prisoner; when night came on, he lay down to sleep with her in the garret, not in the hay-loft, and only at two o’clock in the night he went out to take her a turn in the fresh air.
On that day,after walking about the courtyard a good while with her, he was just turning back, when suddenly a rustle was heard behind the fence on the side of the back street. Mumu pricked up her ears, growled—went up to the fence, sniffed, and gave vent to a loud shrill bark. At that very time the old lady had just fallen asleep, the sudden bark waked her up, her heart palpitated, and she felt faint. “Again, that dog, again! The dog, the dog again! Oh!”
Steward in a fury ordered the whole household to get up.
Meanwhile the luckless Mumu had gone on barking, while Gerasim tried in vain to call her away, from the fence. Gerasim turned round, saw lights and shadows moving in the windows, and with an instinct of coming trouble in his heart, put Mumu under his arm, ran into his garret, and locked himself in.
On the narrow staircase leading to the garret sat one guard; at the door were standing two more with sticks. They went up to the door, knocked with his fist, shouting, “Open the door!”
Gerasim stood without stirring in his doorway. Steward took a step forward. And he began to explain to him by signs that the mistress insists on having his dog; that he must hand it over at once, or it would be the worse for him. Gerasim looked at him, pointed to the dog, made a motion with his hand round his neck, as though announcing he would take upon himself the task of killing Mumu.
“Yes, yes,” the latter assented, nodding,“ yes, just so.”
Mumu, who was all the while standing beside him, innocently wagging her tail and pricking up her ears inquisitively. Gerasim looked at him, smiled scornfully, struck himself again on the breast, and slammed to the door.
An hour after all this hubbub the garret door opened， and Gerasim showed himself. He had on his best coat； he was leading Mumu by a string. All the small boys in the yard stared at him in silence.
He asked for cabbage soup with meat in the cookshop， and sat down with his arms on the table. Mumu stood beside his chair， looking calmly at him with her intelligent eyes. Her coat was glossy； one could see she had just been combed down. He crumbled some bread into it， cut the meat up small， and put the plate on the ground.
Mumu began eating in her usual refined way， her little muzzle daintily held so as scarcely to touch her food. Gerasim gazed a long while at her； two big tears suddenly rolled from his eyes； one fell on the dog’s brow， the other into the soup. He shaded his face with his hand.
Gerasim walked without haste， still holding Mumu by a string. On the half-way he carried away two bricks under his arm.
He turned along the bank， went to a place where there were two little rowing-boats fastened to stakes， and jumped into one of them with Mumu. Gerasim rowed on and on. Moscow was soon left behind.
He threw down his oars， bent his head down to Mumu， who was sitting facing him on a dry cross seat.
At last Gerasim drew himself up hurriedly， with a sort of sick anger in his face， he tied up the bricks he had taken with string， made a running noose， put it round Mumu’s neck， lifted her up over the river， and for the last time looked at her. She watched him confidingly and without any fear， faintly wagging her tail.
He turned away， frowned， and wrung his hands...
Gerasim heard nothing， neither the quick shrill whine of Mumu as she fell， nor the heavy splash of the water； for him the noisiest day was soundless and silent as even the stillest night is not silent to us.
When he opened his eyes again， little wavelets were hurrying over the river， chasing one another； as before they broke against the boat’s side， and only far away behind wide circles moved widening to the bank.
Directly Gerasim had vanished from Eroshka’s sight， the latter returned home and reported what he had seen.“Well， then，” observed Stepan， “he’ll drown her. Now we can feel easy about it. If he once promises a thing ...”
Meanwhile， at that very time， a gigantic figure with a bag on his shoulders and a stick in his hand， was eagerly and persistently stepping out along the road. It was Gerasim.
He was hurrying on without looking round； hurrying homewards， to his own village， to his own country.
He walked， his shoulders thrown back and his chest expanded； his eyes were fixed greedily straight before him.
天将黄昏，哑巴盖拉辛沿着河边慢慢走着。
突然，他发现靠近河岸的泥潭里有一只斑点狗在拼命挣扎，它用力想爬出来，幼小的身子已经湿透，浑身发抖。
盖拉辛用手托起这只不幸的小狗，把它揣在怀里，急急忙忙地往回赶。
他回到自己住的顶楼，把小狗放在床上，用自己的厚大衣把它盖好，先取了一些稻草，又到厨房拿来一杯牛奶。他小心翼翼地展开大衣，铺好稻草，最后把牛奶放在床上。
这只可怜的小狗生下来才3个星期，眼睛刚刚能睁开——一只眼睛好像比另一只大好多，还不知道从杯子里舔牛奶，只是一个劲儿地发抖和眨眼。盖拉辛轻轻地抚摸着小狗的头，把它的嘴巴贴近牛奶。小狗突然嘴馋地舔起来，一面把鼻子伸入牛奶里，一面抖动着小小的身体，有时还让奶呛着了。
整个晚上，盖拉辛一直照顾着它，一次又一次地给它铺稻草，擦干身体，最后他紧挨着小狗睡着了，睡得安静、快活而又香甜。
可以说，世界上无论哪个母亲照顾婴儿，也没有像盖拉辛照顾这个小狗那样仔细。开始它的身体软弱无力，模样也难看，但是它渐渐强壮起来，样子也好看多了。8个月之后，这只小狗就变成了一只非常漂亮的西班牙种狗。它长着一对长耳朵，一条毛茸茸、喇叭似的尾巴和一双晶莹的大眼睛。
这只小狗和盖拉辛结下了不解之缘，彼此相依为命，形影不离。它总是跟在盖拉辛后面，摇着尾巴。盖拉辛给它取了一个名字，叫木木。屋子里其他的仆人也都很喜欢她，叫她木木。
木木聪明伶俐，对谁都很友善，但是它最喜欢的还是盖拉辛。盖拉辛也是如此，如果别人逗木木玩，他就会不高兴，这其中既有替它担心的原因，也有嫉妒的成分——天知道！
每天早上，木木就会扯盖拉辛的衣服，把他弄醒，它和大院里的老马关系也不错，还常常用嘴衔着缰绳，把马带到盖拉辛的身边。
它总爱摆一副神气的派头，陪着盖拉辛到河边去。她还时常为他看护各种劳动工具，绝不允许任何人擅自闯入他的顶楼。
为了方便它出入，盖拉辛在门上开了一个小洞，它也似乎感到唯有在顶楼上，才可以自由自在地当家做主，它一进来就会心满意足地跳到床上。晚上，它似乎从来不睡觉，从来不会无故地乱叫，不像那些愚蠢的家狗一样，坐在自己的后腿上，眨着眼，响着鼻子，迟钝地至少要叫三下才停，不！木木从不神经质地乱叫，除非有什么生人走近围墙，或者听到有可疑的响动。它真是一只了不起的看家狗。
木木从来不进女主人的房间，盖拉辛送木柴到女主人的房中去时，它就会留在外面，在台阶上等着他，只要稍有一点开门的响动，它就会竖起耳朵，把头转来转去。
一个晴朗的夏天，老太太正和客人在客厅里走着。她的兴致很高，有说有笑。当她走到窗前时，一眼就看见木木正忙着啃一块骨头。
“哎呀呀，那是只什么狗呀？”女主人突然惊叫着，“这只小狗倒是怪好玩的，让人把它弄进来吧，让我看看。”
女仆立刻跑到外边大声说：“快来人，把木木弄进来。快点儿呀，斯杰班！”
这时，盖拉辛正在厨房里，敲打着一只水桶里面的污垢，就像儿童玩弄小鼓一样。斯杰班用手势告诉盖拉辛，女主人叫自己把这只狗抓住给她送去。盖拉辛未免有些吃惊，但还是把木木叫过来，亲热地抱起来，把它交给斯杰班。
斯杰班将木木抱到客厅里，轻轻地放在地板上。老太太开始用讨好的声音，叫小狗到她的面前去。
木木从来没有见过如此豪华的房间，因此十分害怕，它向门口冲，试图逃跑，但被想讨好主人的斯杰班站在门口挡住了去路，于是它只好颤抖着缩成一团。
“木木，木木，过来，宝贝，别担心。”女主人叫道，“过来，小傻瓜，别担心。”
但是木木还是局促不安地四处张望，一动也不敢动。斯杰班拿来一碟牛奶，放在木木的面前，但是它不敢靠近，仍然恐惧地四处张望。
“你这个小傻瓜！”女主人伸出手来想摸她的头，没想到，木木突然回过头来，还露出了牙齿。女主人慌忙把手缩了回去。
她发怒了：“把这只不知好歹的狗轰出去，它真是太讨厌了。”
第二天早晨，女主人一反常态地提前一个小时把管家叫了过来。“那只狗整夜汪汪乱叫，还让我睡觉吗？我们不是有一只狗看院子吗？怎么还要这么多的狗呢？哑巴养只狗干吗？谁允许他在院子里养狗的？我昨天就看见那条肮脏的狗，在那里啃什么脏东西，我的玫瑰花就栽在那里啊！今天就把那条狗弄走，听见了吗？”
“是，太太。“于是管家对斯杰班吩咐了几句，斯杰班笑着走了。
一会儿，盖拉辛肩扛一大捆木柴过来了，身边还是跟着形影不离的木木。他走到门口，侧侧身子，走了进去。木木照常在外等候主人。斯杰班就是趁这个机会，突然向木木扑去，像老鹰抓小鸡似的把它摁在草地上，双手抱了起来，连帽子都没来得及戴，一溜烟地跑向家禽市场。在那里，他很快就将木木以1个先令的价钱卖了出去，并叮嘱买主一定将木木拴一周以上。然后他立即返回了。
而可怜的盖拉辛从屋中出来，马上就发现木木不见了。在他的印象中，木木从来都是在屋外等着他的，怎么这次却不见了！于是他四处乱找，那种神情就如同自己的孩子丢了一样。他冲到楼顶，又跑到放干草的地方，还到街上四处张望……
木木不见了！
他向别的仆人打听木木的消息，非常沮丧地用手比画着木木的身高、模样……最后他跑了出去。当他回来的时候，天已经黑了。从他那踉跄的脚步、疲惫不堪的神态和满身的灰尘来看，他可能已经跑遍了半个莫斯科了。
人们望着他的背影，没有人说一句话，也没有人发出笑声。第二天，与他毗邻而居的马车夫安季普卡告诉大家：“哑巴整整一夜都在唉声叹气啊！”
盖拉辛从顶楼出来，已经是第三天早晨了。吃饭的时候，他没和任何人打招呼，本来毫无生气的脸，现在更像一块冷峻的石头了。吃完饭，他又出去了一次，但很快就回到了顶楼。
夜晚，皎洁的月光洒下来，盖拉辛哀伤地躺在草堆上叹气，还不时地翻身。
突然，他感觉有什么东西在扯他的衣服，他吃了一惊，但并没起来看，而是把眼睛闭得更紧了，但是那个东西又扯了他一下，而且比上一次的劲头更大了，盖拉辛惊愕地跳了起来。他清楚地看到，木木在他面前打着转，脖子上还留着一段绳子，面对木木，他那不能说话的胸膛里，长长地发出了一声深沉的欢呼。他万分激动地将木木紧紧搂在怀里，并亲吻它的鼻子和眼睛。之后，他站在那里想了一会儿，又向四处张望了一阵，当确信没有人看见后，才抱起木木回到顶楼上。
其实，盖拉辛也已经猜到，木木决不是因为迷路而失踪，一定是女主人让人把木木送人了，因为仆人们用手势告诉他木木咬伤了它。盖拉辛打定主意，要想尽办法来对付这个麻烦。他先拿了一块面包喂了木木，又抚爱了它一阵，才把它放在床上睡觉。盖拉辛自己则陷入了深思，整整一夜，他都在考虑如何将木木隐藏起来。
后来他决定白天就让木木待在顶楼上，自己偶尔去看看它，到了晚上再带它出去。
天还没亮，他就起来了，用旧大衣把门上的洞塞得紧紧的，然后像什么事情也没发生似的走到院子里去了。
木木回来之后，盖拉辛干起活来更卖力了，他把院子打扫得干干净净，并亲手将杂草一根根拔光，甚至把花园篱笆上的树桩一个个拖走了。就连女主人也夸奖他能干，是个好人。
就这样，他白天偷偷地到顶楼上去看木木两次，到了晚上，就和它一起在阁楼里，而不是在干草棚里睡觉。只有到了深夜，他才带着它出去，在新鲜的空气里散步。
那天，他领着木木走了很久，正打算回去的时候，身后传来一阵沙沙声。木木竖起耳朵，咆哮着，跑到篱笆前，嗅了嗅，接着发出了尖利的吠声。也就在这时，女主人刚刚睡着，突然的狗叫声把她惊醒了，她吓得心怦怦直跳，几乎昏过去了：“又是那只狗，你们听听，那狗还在叫呢。”
管家大吃一惊，他恼羞成怒，立即吩咐把整个院子的人都叫起来，来处理这件事情。
这时，不幸的木木还在继续叫着，盖拉辛一直叫它离开，可它就是不听。盖拉辛回过头，看见屋里有灯光和人影晃动，感到出了大事，大祸临头了。于是他抱起木木跑到顶楼上，把自己和木木反锁在屋里。
在通往盖拉辛顶楼的狭窄楼梯上，坐着一个守卫，门口还有两个，手中拿着棍子。他们用拳头砸门，并叫嚷道：“开门！”
突然，门开了，盖拉辛站在那里，一动不动地望着他们。管家向前走了一步。他开始用手解释说是女主人坚持要把那狗弄走，叫哑巴立刻把狗交出来，否则他就要倒霉。盖拉辛用手指了指小狗，用手比画着，在自己的脖子上绕了一圈，好像是把一根绳索勒紧似的。这是声明他愿意自己担负处死木木的任务。
“好吧，行，”管家一面看，一面点着头，“也就这样吧。”
盖拉辛轻蔑地笑了笑，又拍了拍胸膛，然后“砰”地一声把门关上了。木木一直都在他身边站着，天真地摇着尾巴，露出一种询问的表情。
过了一个钟头，盖拉辛出来了，他穿上了最好的衣服，用一根绳子牵着木木。院子里所有的人，都默默地看着他。
盖拉辛带着木木，走进了一个小饭馆，要了一份带肉的菜汤，支着胳膊在桌子跟前坐下。木木在他的椅子旁边站着，用它那双机灵的眼睛，默默地望着自己的主人。它身上的毛是光溜溜的，谁都能看出，盖拉辛刚给它梳过。他捏了一点面包放在汤里，把肉弄碎，然后将盘子放在地上。
木木还是用它往常的那种姿势开始吃东西，它的嘴刚好只挨到食物。盖拉辛深情地望着它，望了很久，突然，他的眼泪滑落下来，一颗掉在木木的额头上，一颗掉在汤里，他痛苦地用手挡住了脸。
盖拉辛仍用绳子牵着木木，不慌不忙地走着。在半路上，他捡了两块砖头挟在腋下。
盖辛拉沿着河边走着，然后在两只绑在树桩的船前停了下来，他带着木木跳到一条船上，然后就开始拼命地划，一会儿就划出了几百米远，将莫斯科远远地甩在了后边。
他丢下桨，低头去靠近木木，木木也面对着他，坐在一块横板上。
最后，盖拉辛站了起来，脸上露出一种痛苦而愤怒的神色，将两块砖用绳子拴上，又打了一个活结，套在木木的脖子上，然后抱起木木，举到河面上，最后望了它一眼。木木信任地望着自己最亲近的主人，不但没有畏惧，还轻轻地摇着尾巴。
他把脸转过去，痛苦地皱着眉头，放开了手……
他既听不见木木掉入水中时那短促的惨叫，也听不见河水溅起的声音，对于他，所有的一切都是寂静无声的。
当他把眼睛睁开时，只见小小的浪花在河面上奔腾，碰在船弦上，飞溅开来，只有在船后面很远的地方，才有一个大圆圈，快速地向岸边扩散。
监视盖拉辛的园丁跑回家，向管家报告了所看到的一切。“他果然把它淹死了，太好了，现在可以放心了。”管家说。
深夜，一个高大的人影，背上扛着一个包袱，手里拿着一根棍子，匆匆往城外走去，他就是哑巴盖拉辛。
他义无反顾地，急急忙忙地走着，走向家的方向，走向自己的村庄，自己的祖国。
他挺起胸膛迈着大步，一双眼睛忧怨地注视着前方……
心灵小语
读一个哑奴和一只狗生死相依，无言而情深的故事，看他们如何相依相偎，相守相望，却又不得不在困境中挣扎，沉沦，你会知道，即使在绝望之境，爱依然不舍不弃。
记忆填空
1. She used to him in the morning， pulling at his coat； she used to take the reins in her ， and bring him up the old horse that carried the water， with she was on very friendly terms.
2. He turned along the ， went to a place where there were two little rowing-boats fastened to stakes， and jumped into one of them Mumu. Gerasim rowed on and on. Moscow was soon left behind.
3. Meanwhile， at that very time， a gigantic figure with a on his shoulders and a stick in his ， was eagerly and persistently stepping out the road. It was Gerasim.
佳句翻译
1. 他回到自己住的顶楼，把小狗放在床上，用自己的厚大衣把她盖好。
译
2. 这只小狗和盖拉辛结下了不解之缘，彼此相依为命，形影不离。
译
3. 他既听不见木木掉入水中时那短促的惨叫，也听不见河水溅起的声音。
译
短语应用
1. She was in high spirits； she laughed and made jokes.
in high spirits：喜气洋洋，兴高采烈
造__________________
2. Then Stepan， seizing his chance， suddenly pounced on her， like a kite on a chicken.
pounce on：突然袭击，扑向
造__________________
回？家
Go Home
佚名 / Anonymous
A freezing downpour washed the black asphalt street in front of the small town bar. I sat gazing into the watery darkness， alone as usual. Across the rain-drenched roadway was the town park：five acres of grass， giant elm trees and， tonight， an ankle-deep covering of cold water.
I had been in that battered old pub for half an hour， quietly nursing a drink， when my thoughtful stare finally focused on a medium-sized lump in a grassy puddle a hundred feet away. For another ten minutes， I looked out through the tear-streaked windowpane trying to decide if the lump was an animal or just a wet and inanimate something.
The night before， a German shepherd looking mongrel had come into the bar begging for potato chips. He was mangy and starving and just the size of the lump in question. Why would a dog lie in a cold puddle in the freezing rain？ I asked myself. The answer was simple： either it wasn’t a dog， or if it was， he was too weak to get up.
The shrapnel wound in my right shoulder ached all the way down to my fingers. I didn’t want to go out in that storm. Hey， it wasn’t my dog， it wasn’t anybody’s dog. It was just a stray on a cold night in the rain， a lonely drifter. So was I， I thought， as I tossed down what was left of my drink and headed out the door.
He was lying in three inches of water. When I touched him， he didn’t move. I thought he was dead. I put my hands around his chest and hoisted him to his feet. He stood unsteadily in the puddle， his head hung like a weight at the end of his neck. Half his body was covered with mange. His floppy ears were just hairless pieces of flesh dotted with open sores.
“Come on.” I said， hoping I wouldn’t have to carry his infected carcass to shelter. His tail wagged once and he plodded weakly after me. I led him to an alcove next to the bar， where he lay on the cold cement and closed his eyes.
A block away I could see the lights of a late night convenience store. It was still open. I bought three cans of Alpo and stuffed them into my leather coat. I was wet and ugly and the clerk looked relieved as I left. The race-type exhausts on my old Harley Davidson rattled the windows in the bar as I rode back to the bar.
The barmaid opened the cans for me and said the dog’s name was Shep. She told me he was about a year old and that his owner had gone to Germany and left him on the street. He ate all three cans of dog food with an awe-inspiring singleness. of purpose. I wanted to pet him， but he smelled like death and looked even worse. “Good luck，” I said. Then got on my bike and rode away.
The next day I got a job driving a dump truck for a small paving company. As I hauled a load of gravel through the center of town， I saw Shep standing on the sidewalk near the bar. I yelled to him and thought I saw his tail wag. His reaction made me feel good.
After work I bought three more cans of Alpo and a cheeseburger. My new friend and I ate dinner together on the sidewalk. He finished his first.
The next night， when I brought his food， he welcomed me with wild enthusiasm. Now and then， his malnourished legs buckled and he fell to the pavement. Other humans had deserted him and mistreated him， but now he had a friend and his appreciation was more than obvious.
I didn’t see him the next day as I hauled load after load up the main street past the bar. I wondered if someone had taken him home.
After work I parked my black Harley on the street and walked down the sidewalk looking for him. I was afraid of what I would find. He was lying on his side in an alley nearby. His tongue hung out in the dirt and only the tip of his tail moved when he saw me.
The local veterinarian was still at his office， so I borrowed a pickup truck from my employer and loaded the limp mongrel into the cab. “Is this your dog？” the vet asked after checking the pitiful specimen that lay helplessly on his examining table.
“No，” I said， “he’s just a stray.”
“He’s got the beginnings of distemper，”the vet said sadly， “If he doesn’t have a home， the kindest thing we can do is put him out of his misery.”
I put my hand on the dog’s shoulder. His mangy tail thumped weakly against the stainless steel table. I sighed loudly. “He’s got a home.” I said.
For the next three nights and two days， the dog—I named him Shep—lay on his side in my apartment. My roommate and I spent hours putting water in his mouth and trying to get him to swallow a few scrambled eggs. He couldn’t do it， but whenever I touched him， his tail wagged slightly at the very tip.
At about 10：00 a.m. on the third day， I went home to open the apartment for the telephone installer. As I stepped through the door， I was nearly flattened by a jumping， wiggling mass of euphoric mutt. Shep had recovered.
With time， the mangy starving dog that nearly died in my living room grew into an eighty-pound block of solid muscle， with a massive chest and a super thick coat of shiny black fur. Many times， when loneliness and depression have nearly gotten the best of me， Shep has returned my favor by showering me with his unbridled friendship until I had no choice but to smile and trade my melancholy for a fast game of fetch-the-stick.
When I look back， I can see that Shep and I met at the low point of both of our lives. But we aren’t lonely drifters anymore. I’d say we’ve both come home.
冰冷的倾盆大雨冲刷着小城酒吧前面的柏油马路。与往常一样，我孤零零地坐在那里，凝望着雨中的昏暗。穿过积满雨水的马路就是小城的公园，那里有5英亩的草坪，还有巨大的榆树，今晚，又增添了一片到脚踝那么高的冰冷雨水。
我在那间破旧的酒吧里停留了半个小时，一口一口地品着酒。我沉思的目光终于停留在100英尺以外的一个绿色的水坑里的一团东西上。有10分钟的时间，我一直穿过落满雨水的窗户向外看，我想看看那究竟是一只动物还是一堆被雨打湿的没有生命的东西。
前一天晚上，一只看上去很像德国牧羊犬的狗来到酒吧里讨土豆片吃。它的身上长满了疥癣，肚子饿得咕咕叫，从大小来看，和那团湿乎乎的东西很相像。我心想，这只狗为什么会冒着寒冷的雨水躺在冰冷的水坑里呢？很显然，或者它不是一只狗，要是狗的话，它一定是虚弱得没有力气站起来了。
榴弹在我的右肩留下的伤口隐隐作痛，一直延伸到手指。我不想冒着暴风雨走出去。再加上它不属于我，也不属于任何人。它只是一只流浪狗，在一个寒冷的夜晚独自漂泊的狗。然而我感觉自己和它的处境相同，我把剩下的酒一口喝光，起身向门外走去。
它在3英寸深的水里躺着。我碰了碰它，它却一动不动。我感觉它已经死了。我用双手抓着它的胸部，将它扶了起来。它摇摇晃晃地站在水里，耷拉着的脑袋仿佛是吊在它的脖子上的重物。它的半边身体全是疥癣，耷拉着的耳朵简直就像长满烂疮的、没有毛的两片肉。
“跟我来。” 我对它说道，但愿我不用抱着它长满疮的身体去寻找避雨的地方。它摇了摇尾巴，拖着虚弱的身体，拖着沉重的脚步跟在我的身后。我带着它走到酒吧的吧台旁边，它在冰凉的水泥地上躺了下来，闭上了眼睛。
我看到隔着一个街区的一家便利店还亮着灯，尚未关门。我买了三罐狗粮，把它们全部塞进皮衣口袋。我浑身湿透了，样子丑陋，在我离开的时候，售货员仿佛松了口气。我骑上我的哈雷？戴维森摩托车回到酒吧，酒吧的玻璃窗被赛车用的排气管震得咔哒直响。
酒吧女招待替我把罐头打开，并告诉我这只狗叫谢普，大概一岁左右，它的主人去德国了，它就被扔到了街上。那只狗专心致志地吃光了所有狗粮。我想摸摸它，然而它的身上散发出死狗的恶臭味，模样更是令人恐惧。“祝你好运。”我对它说道，接着跨上摩托车走了。
第二天，我找到一份工作——为一家小筑路公司开卸料卡车。正当我拉着一车砾石穿过小城中心时，我看到谢普站在离酒吧很近的人行道上。我对着它大叫，仿佛看到它摇了摇尾巴。我为它的反应感到高兴。
下班后，我又买了三罐狗粮和一块奶酪汉堡包。我和我的“新朋友”在人行道上共进晚餐，它先吃完了自己的那份。
第二天晚上，当我给它带来食物时，它用极大的热情欢迎我。因为缺乏营养，它的腿支撑不住身体而不时地跌倒在地上。别人抛弃了它，虐待它，然而如今它有了朋友，它对我的感激难以言表。
第三天，我拉着一辆车子沿着主干道途经酒吧时，却没有看见那只狗。我猜测或许有人将它带回家了。
下班之后，我把我的那辆黑色摩托车停在街上，沿着人行道寻找它。我害怕我找到的谢普不知会变成什么模样。在附近的小巷里，它身体的一侧倒在地上，舌头被尘土淹没了，它看到我时只动了一下尾巴尖。
当地的兽医尚未下班，因此我从雇主那里借来了客货两用车，将这只瘸拐的狗装进驾驶室。在为躺在桌子上有气无力、令人心生怜爱的狗检查完之后，兽医问道：“这是你的狗吗？”
“不是，”我回答说，“它是只野狗。”
“它已经开始出现犬热病的症状了，”兽医忧伤地说，“假如它没有家，最好的办法就是结束它的生命，让它摆脱痛苦。”
我把手搭在它的肩上，它那长满疥癣的尾巴有气无力地拍了拍不锈钢检查桌。我长叹了一口气，说：“它有家。”
之后的三个晚上、两个白天，这只狗(我称它为谢普)就侧卧在我公寓的地板上。我和室友利用几个小时的时间给它喂水，试图让它吃一点炒鸡蛋。尽管它无法下咽，但是每当我碰它的时候，它都会轻轻地动一下尾巴尖。
在它来到我家的第三天早上10点左右，我返回家中为装电话的人开门。一进门，差一点儿被那只又蹦又跳的野狗撞倒在地。谢普康复了！
时间一天天过去，那浑身疥癣、肚子饿得咕咕叫、差点死在我面前的野狗，现在可是肌肉健壮，重达80磅。它有着宽大的胸脯，身上的黑毛浓密而有光泽。有好几次，当我的身心被孤独和沮丧快要摧垮的时候，谢普为了报答我的恩情，都会把它那无拘无束的友情传达给我，直至我别无选择，重新露出笑脸，和它玩起“丢棒拾棒”的游戏。
回首往夕，我与谢普相识时，我们都处于生活的低谷，但是如今我们不会感到孤单，也不再流浪。我想说的是：我们两个都回家了。
心灵小语
在风雨之夜独自漂泊的人和狗，就那么相互搀扶着，走过了落魄。他们都回家了。
记忆填空
1. He stood unsteadily in the puddle， his hung like a weight at the end of his neck. Half his body was covered mange. His floppy ears were hairless pieces of flesh dotted with open sores.
2. I was of what I would find. He was lying on his side in an alley nearby. His hung out in the dirt and only the tip of his tail when he saw me.
3. With time， the mangy dog that nearly died in my living room grew into an eighty-pound block of muscle， with a massive chest and a super coat of shiny black fur.
佳句翻译
1. 冰冷的倾盆大雨冲刷着小城酒吧前面的柏油马路。
译
2. 别人抛弃了它，虐待它，然而如今它有了朋友，它对我的感激难以言表。
译
3. 回首往夕，我与谢普相识时，我们都处于生活的低谷，但是如今我们不会感到孤单，也不再流浪。
译
短语应用
1. ... Half his body was covered with mange.
be covered with：满是；被……覆盖
造__________________
2. Now and then， his malnourished legs buckled and he fell to the pavement.
now and then：时而；不时
造__________________
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