英国语文(英文原版·插图典藏本)(第3册)(txt+pdf+epub+mobi电子书下载)

作者：英国托马斯-尼尔森公司

出版社：中国城市出版社

格式: AZW3, DOCX, EPUB, MOBI, PDF, TXT

英国语文(英文原版·插图典藏本)(第3册)试读：

“WHAT ailsyou, lad?”said DameBell to a little boy, who sat near a wall at the back of her house. He had a book in his hand, and tears were in his eyes.

“We have all got a poem called Little Jim to learn,”said the boy, whose name was Tom Blair;“and the one who says it best is to get a prize from the master. But I don't think I can learn it.”

“Why not?”said the dame.

“The boys say that I can't, and that I need not try,”said Tom in a sad tone.

“Don't mind what the boys say. Let them see that you can learn it,”said his friend.

“But I don't think I can,”said Tom;“it is so long, and some of the words are so hard. I know I need not try for the prize. But I should like to learn the poem as well as I can; for the boys laugh at me, and call me‘Slow Tom.’”

“Well, dear,”said the dame, in a kind voice,“if you are slow, and can't help it, try to be‘slow and sure,’as they say. Look at that snail on the wall; how slow it is! And yet, if you watch it, you will see it will get to the top in time. So just try to learn a few lines each day, and you may gainthe prize in the end. And when you are like to lose heart, think of the snail on the wall.”

When Dame Bell had said this, she went on her way. And Tom thought that (though he could not keep up with the boys) he might run a race with the snail. So he resolvedto try to learn his task, by the time the snail got to the top of the wall.

At last, the day came on which the master was to give the prize, and he called up the boys to repeat the poem.

When five or six had recited, it came to Tom's turn. There was a laugh when he got up; for most of the boys thought he would fail. But he did not miss a word; and his heart was full of joy when the master said,“Well done. Tom Blair!”

When the rest of the class had tried, the master said Tom had done best; and he gave him the prize.

“And now tell me,”said the master,“how you learned the poem so well.”

“Please, sir, it was the snail on the wall that taught me how to do it,”said Tom.

There was a loud laugh when Tom said this. But the master said,“You need not laugh, boys; for we may learn much from such things as snails. — How did the snail teach you, Tom?”

“Please, sir, I saw it crawl up the wall bit by bit. It did not stop, nor turn back, but went on, and on. And I thought I would do the same with my task. So I learned it bit by bit, and did not give up. And by the time the snail had got to the top of the wall, I had learned it all.”

“Well done, Tom!”said the master. —“Now, boys, let us give a good cheer for Tom Blair and the snail on the wall.”And the old house rang with a loud, long cheer. For all were glad that“Slow Tom”had got a prize at last.Questions

Why did Tom cry? What did the other boys call him? What did Dame Bell tell him to watch? What did Tom then make up his mind to do? Who got the prize? When was there a loud laugh? Why did the boys at last give a loud cheer?Pronunciation

lit'-tle　po'-em　mas'-ter　laugh　re-peat'　crawl

eyes　friend　thought　prize　please　learnedWrite

eyes　prize　crawl

poem　friend　please

little　master　learnedLesson 2LITTLE JIMTHE cottage was a thatchedone,The outside old and mean;Yet everything within that cotWas wondrousneat and clean.The night was dark and stormy,The wind was howlingwild;A patientmother knelt besideThe deathbed of her child:A little worn-out creature —His once bright eyes grown dim;He was a collier's only child —They called him little Jim.And oh, to see the brinytearsFast hurrying down her cheek,As she offered up a prayer in thought;She was afraid to speak,Lest she might waken one she lovedFar better than her life;For there was all a mother's loveIn that poor collier's wife.With hands uplifted, see, she kneelsBeside the suff'rer's bed;And prays that He will spare her boyAnd take herself instead!She gets her answer from the child;Soft fell these words from him:“Mother, the angels do so smile,And beckonlittle Jim!“I have no pain, dear mother, now;But oh, I am so dry!Just moistenpoor Jim's lips again;And, mother, don't you cry.”With gentle, trembling haste she heldThe tea-cup to his lips;He smiled, to thank her, as he tookThree tiny little sips.“Tell father, when he comes from work,I said good-night to him;And, mother, now I'll go to sleep”—Alas! poor little Jim!She saw that he was dying —The child she loved so dearHad uttered the last words that sheMight ever hope to hear.The cottage door was opened,The collier's step was heard;The mother and the father met,Yet neither spoke a word!He knew that all was over —He knew his child was dead;He took the candle in his hand,And walked towards the bed.His quiveringlips gave tokenOf grief he'd fainconceal;And see! his wife has joined him —The strickencouple kneel!With hearts bowed down with sadness,They humbly ask of Him,In heaven once more to meet againTheir own poor little Jim.— Edward FarmerQuestions

Where was the mother kneeling? In what state was the boy? Why did she offer up her prayer in thought? From whom did she get her answer? What were Jim's last words? What did his mother do when he came in? What did both father and mother then do?Pronunciation

cot'-tage　col'-lier　an'-swer　ut'-tered　coup'-le

ev'-er-y-thing　hur'-ry-ing　trem'-bling　nei'-ther　up-lift'-ed

storm'-y　pray'-er　dy'-ing　hum'-bly　an'-gelsWrite

patient　uttered　couple

moisten　neither　stricken

hurrying　trembling　quiveringLesson 3THE TEA-FARMER

ONCE upon a time there was no tea at all in our country. In England, in the olden time, people used to drink ale, and a sweet kind of wine called mead. Great tankardsof ale stood on the breakfast table. Now we use tea and coffee.

When tea was first brought to England, an old man and woman had some sent to them as a great treat. But when they got it, they did not know how it ought to be used. At length they boiled the leaves, and strewedthem on a piece of bacon which they were going to have for dinner. They ate the leaves, and threw the tea away!

In those days, a pound of tea cost so much money that only the rich could buy it. Now it is so cheap that even the poorest can enjoy it.

Tea is the leaf of a plant which grows plentifullyin China, Japan, and other Eastern lands. The Chinese drink their tea without either milk or sugar. Whenever a visitor comes into a house, a servant always brings him a cup of tea.

Every cottager in China has his little tea-garden. He sells what he does not use, and can thus buy food and clothing for his family.

When a man has a large piece of ground, and grows a great many tea-plants, he is called a tea farmer. When the tea-leaves are ready to be gathered, the farmer and his family are very busy. They pull off the leaves and throw them into baskets. When the baskets are full, they are carried into the house.

The leaves are dried in iron pans over a fire. While they are drying, men and women keep turning them about. As soon as they begin to crack, they are taken out and spread upon a table. Then the work-people roll them up in their hands, and press all the juice they can out of them.

After being once more dried in the air, the leaves have to go into the pan again over the fire. There they begin to curl and twist; and at last they look as we see them in this country.

The farmer then picks out the best leaves, and gets them ready for market. He may be seen marching off to the town, with his chest of tea slung over his shoulder, on a pole made of bamboo.

He goes to a tea merchantand offers the chest of tea for sale. The merchant looks at it, and if he thinks it good he buys it. Then the farmer marches home again, with his money slung over his shoulder. His money consists of a number of strings of brass coins, of so little value that a great many of them make but a small sum.Questions

What was used in England for breakfast before tea and coffee were known? What mistake did an old man and woman make, when tea first came in? What is tea? Where does it come from? What is a man called who grows a great many tea-plants? What is the first thing done with the leaves when they are pulled? What next? and next? How does the grower carry his tea to market? What does he bring back?Pronunciation

cot'-ta-ger　vis'-it-or　en-joy'　val'-ue　march'-es

shoul'-der　bas'-kets　dry'-ing　East'-ern　mar'-ket

break'-fast　fam'-i-ly　con-sists'　when-ev'-er　read'-yWrite

boiled　enjoy　bamboo

length　strewed　shoulder

tankards　cottager　merchantLesson 4TIT FOR TAT

A BOY was one day sitting on the steps of a door. He had a broom in one hand, and in the other a large piece of bread and butter, which somebody had kindly given him. While he was eating it, and merrilyhumminga tune, he saw a poor little dog quietly sleeping not far from him. He called out to him,“Come here, poor fellow!”

The dog, hearing himself kindly spoken to, rose, pricked up his ears, and wagged his tail. Seeing the boy eating, he came near him. The boy held out to him a piece of his bread and butter. As the dog stretched out his head to take it, the boy hastily drew back his hand and hit him a hard rap on the nose. The poor dog ran away, howling most dreadfully, while the cruelboy sat laughing at the mischiefhe had done.

A gentleman, who was looking from a window on the other side of the street, saw what the wicked boy had done. Opening the street door, he called him to cross over; at the same time holding up a sixpence between his finger and thumb.

“Would you like this?”said the gentleman.

“Yes, if you please, sir,”said the boy, smiling; and he hastily ran over to seizethe money.

Just at the moment that he stretched out his hand, he got so severea rap on the knuckles, from a cane which the gentleman had behind him, that he roared out like a bull!

“What did you do that for?”said he, making a very long face, and rubbing his hand.“I didn't hurt you, nor ask you for the sixpence.”

“What did you hurt that poor dog for just now?”said the gentleman.“He didn't hurt you, nor ask you for your bread and butter. As you servedhim I have served you. Now, rememberdogs can feel as well as boys, and learn to behave kindly towards dumb animals in future.”Questions

What did the dog think he was going to get? What did the boy do to him? How was the boy punished? What did he say? What did the gentleman tell him to remember?Pronunciation

eat'-ing　fe'-low　smil'-ing　be-tween'　to'-wards

qui'-et-ly　has'-ti-ly　o'-pen-ing　be-have'　an'-i-mals

laugh'-ing　six'-pence　knuck'-les　kind'-ly　gen'-tle-manWrite

seize　fellow　merrily

eating　knuckles　between

laughing　mischief　stretchedPROVERBS

The following are all the words required in this Exercise.

glit'-ters　need'-y　may　per-form'

com-mand'　quar'-rel　num'-ber　 tongue

It takes two to make a　　　.

All is not gold that　　　.

Be slow to promise, but quick to　　　.

A young man idle, an old man　　　.

Do what you ought, come what　　　.

Keep good company, and be one of the　　　.

Better to slip with the foot than with the　　　.

Command your temper, lest it　　　you.Lesson 5THE HUMMING-BIRD (I)

UNDER the shade of a tree, at the end of one of the twigs, hangs a tiny little nest. It swings in the air, and is as light as a feather; for it is made chiefly of moss and down. It is very snug; and within it lie two tiny eggs, of the size of peas, and as white as snow.

Watch a moment, and we shall see what bird it is that has built the nest; for she has only gone to have a sip of honey. It is a lovely place to watch in. Flowers scentthe air. Yonder is a deep wood; and strange flowers of every shape and size grow all about. Some are like monkeys, some like bees, some like butterflies. These flowers are called orchids. They grow in England, only not nearly so large as in warm countries.

Hark! the bird is coming. It is the smallest bird in the whole world. Its body is no bigger than a hazel-nut. But its feathers are more lovely than I can describe. It has a green crest on its head, which sparkleslike a little star. The colours on its body are green, and gold, and purple. You can scarcely tell where one ends and another begins.

If you look about, you will see more of these little creatures. They are called humming-birds, and live in hot countries, — in India, as well as in America. The woods and groves are alive with them. They flash about here and there, clad in all the colours of the rainbow. The eye is never tired of watching them.

The humming-bird in the picture is sitting on its eggs, to hatch its young ones. When the mother bird is tired, her matecomes and takes her place. Then up she springs, and darts away into the woods, where she choosessome flower that has honey in it.

As she hoversin the air, she moves her wings about so quickly that you can hardly see them. Her wings make a humming sound as she hovers over the flower; and it is from this that she gets her name.

But she is thinking now about the insects. There are a great many of these, hidden at the bottom of the flower. She soon spies them out, and she darts her long tongue into the midst of them. Some insects stick to it; for the tongue is sticky, as if it had been rubbed with glue. The insects are drawn into her mouth; she swallows them, and then darts out her tongue for more.

All this time, she is hovering over the flower, and humming with her wings. When she has had enough of insects, she sips a little honey, and flies back to her nest.Questions

Of what is the nest of the humming-bird made? Where does it hang? What is the size of the bird? In what kind of countries do they live? What is the humming-bird in the picture doing? Who takes her place when she is tired? What causes the humming? What do these birds feed upon?Pronunciation

feath'-er　monk'-eys　scarce'-ly　rain'-bow　hid'-den

chief'-ly　but'-ter-flies　crea'-tures　pic'-ture　swal'-lows

flow'-ers　or'-chids　col'-ours　quick'-ly　e-nough'Write

scent　quickly　insects

scarcely　watching　enough

butterflies　creatures　hoveringLesson 6THE HUMMING-BIRD (II)The humming-bird! the humming-bird!So fairy-like and bright;It lives amongst the sunny flowers,A creature of delight!In the radiantislands of the East,Where fragrantspices grow,A thousand thousand humming-birdsGo glancingto and fro.Like living fires they flit about,Scarce larger than a bee,Amongst the broad palmettoleaves,And through the fan-palmtree.There builds her nest the humming-bird,Within the ancientwood,Her nest of silky cotton-down,And rears her tiny brood.She hangs it to a slendertwig,Where it waves light and free,As the campanerotolls his songWhile rocks the mighty tree.All crimson is her shining breast,Like to the red, red rose;Her wing is the changeful green and blueThat the neck of the peacock shows.Thou happy, happy humming-bird,No winter round thee lowers;Thou never saw'st a leafless tree,Nor Land without sweet flowers:A reign of summer joyfulnessTo thee for life is given;Thy food the honey from the flower,Thy drink the dew from heaven!— MARY HOWITTPronunciation

fai'-ry-like　thou'-sand　change'-ful　sum'-mer　spic'-es

sun'-ny　crim'-son　pea'-cock　joy'-ful-ness　liv'-ing

isl'-ands　shin'-ing　leaf'-less　hon'-ey　hap'-pyWrite

radiant　ancient　summer

fragrant　slender　joyfulness

glancing　leafless　flowerLesson 7THE BOY WHO WAS ALWAYS TOO LATE

SOLOMON SLOW was the son of a gentleman, who lived on the borderof the New Forest. His mother called him Solomon,“Because,”she said,“he is a wise child;‘slow and sure’is sure to do well.”

“Yes,”said his father;“but he is too slow; and unless he become a little more quick, and a little less lazy, I shall never make a man of him.”

When he was about ten years old, his father and some friends planned a picnicin the Forest, and hireda large van to take them there. They were to set out at seven in the morning. Solomon knew this, as he had heard his father say so the night before.

The sun was shining very brightly when he awoke at six the next morning; but he was as lazy as ever.“If I get up about ten minutes before seven,”said he,“I shall be down in plenty of time.”So he lay still in bed, and heard all the party pass his door as they went down stairs.

They even called to him; but he gave no answer, and only lazily rolled himself up in the clothes. At last, up he jumped, dressed, and ran down stairs; but he found the breakfast-room empty, and the van gone!

Snatchingup his hat, he ran as fast as he could down the road; but there was a high wind, and the dust was in clouds everywhere. He screamed and bawled for the van to stop; but all in vain. No one could hear him; and at last, tired with running, and half choked with dust, he walked sulkily home.

But even this did not cure him. He was a lazy boy, and grew up to be a lazy man; and when in business, though the coach passed his door every day, he was seldom ready. Just look at him, in the picture, running up the hill, and bawling“Stop! stop!”Questions

What was the boy's name? Where did he live? What did his mother say of him? What did his father say of him? At what time was the picnic party to start? When did Solomon awake? What did he say to himself? What did he find when he did come down stairs? What did he then do? Did he succeed? What kind of man did he turn out?Pronunciation

bright'-ly　an'-swer　sulk'-i-ly　Sol'-o-mon　plen'-ty

la'-zi-ly　run'-ning　bus'-iness　min'-utes　emp'-tyWrite

heard　lazily　sulkily

planned　answer　running

brightly　snatching　businessLesson 8THE SAILOR AND THE MONKEYS

A SAILOR once went ashore on the coast of South America. He had with him a number of red woollen caps for sale. On his way to a town at some distance from the coast, he had to pass through a forest, in which troopsof monkeys were everywhere seen climbing among the trees.

At noon, as the sun was right overhead, the sailor had to take shelterfrom its burning rays. He lay down to rest under the shade of a large tree.

Taking one of the caps out of his bundle, he put it on his head, and soon fell fast asleep.

When he awoke, he found, to his utteramazement, that the caps were all gone! A most unusualchattering among the densebranches above him drew his attention. Looking up, he saw the trees alive with troops of monkeys, and on the head of each monkey was a red woollen cap!

The little mimicshad watched his proceedings; and, having stolen his caps while he slept, had adorned their black pates with their booty. The monkeys gave no heed to his shouts, but only grinned at his rage.

Finding every attemptto get back his caps fruitless, he pulled off the one which he had put on his head, and threw it on the ground, crying out,“Here, you little thieving rogues, if you will keep the rest, you may take this one too!”

No sooner had he done this, than, to his great surprise, the little animals at once did the same. Each snatched the cap from his head and threw it on the ground! The sailor regainedall his caps, and marched off in triumph.Questions

Who is that lying on the ground? What is he doing? What do you see on the trees? What have they got on their heads? What is the monkey on the ground doing? Where did the others get their caps? How were they made to give them up again?Pronunciation

A-mer'-i-ca　bun'-dle　at-ten'-tion　climb'-ing　fruit'-less

dis'-tance　branch'-es　a-dorned'　chat'-ter-ing　thiev'-ingWrite

unusual　attempt　triumph

climbing　fruitless　thieving

amazement　chattering　snatchedLesson 9THE VOICE OP SPRINGI am coming, little maiden!With the pleasant sunshine laden,With the honey for the bee,With the blossom for the tree,With the flower and with the leaf: —Till I come, the time is brief.I am coming, I am coming!Hark! the little bee is humming;See! the lark is soaringhighIn the bright and sunny sky;And the gnatsare on the wing.Wheeling round in airy ring.See! the yellow catkinscoverAil the slender willows over;And on banks of mossy greenStar-like primroses are seen;And, their clustering leaves belowWhite and purple violets blow.Hark! the new-born lambs are bleating;And the cawing rooks are meetingIn the elms — a noisy crowd!All the birds are singing loud;And the first white butterflyIn the sunshine dances by.Look around thee — look around!Flowers in all the fields abound;Every running stream is bright;All the orchardtrees are white,And each small and waving shootPromises sweet flowers and fruit.Turn thine eyes to earth and heaven!God for thee the Spring has given;Taught the birds their melodies,Clothed the earth, and cleared the skies,For thy pleasure or thy food: —Pour thy soul in gratitude?— MARY HOWITT

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