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TEXT D The Death of a Spouse For much of the world, the death of Richard Nixon was the end of a complex public life. But researchers who study bereavement wondered if it didn’t also signify the end of a private grief. Had the former president merely run his allotted fourscore and one, or had he fallen victim to a pattern that seems to afflict long- time married couples: one spouse quickly following the other to the grave Pat, Nixon’s wife of 53 years, died last June ’after *a long illness. No one knows for sure whether her death contributed to his. After all, he was elderly and had a history of serious heart disease. Researchers have long observed that the death of a spouse particularly a wife is sometimes followed by the untimely death of the grieving survivor. Historian Will Durant died 13 days after his wife and collaborator, Ariel; Buckminster Fuller and his wife died just 36 hours apart. Is this more than coincidence "Part of the story, I suspect, is that we men are so used to ladies feeding us and taking care of us," says Knud Helsing, an epidemiologist at the Johns Hopkins School of Public health, "that when we lose a wife we go to pieces. We don’t know how to take care of ourselves." In one of several studies Helsing has conducted on bereavement, he found that widowed men had higher mortality rates than married men in every age group. But, he found that widowers who remarried enjoyed the same lower mortality rate as men who’d never been widowed. Women’s health and resilience may also suffer after the loss of a spouse. In a 1987 study of widows, researchers from the University of California, Los Angeles, and UC, San Diego, found that they had a dramatic decline in levels of important immune - system cells that fight off disease. Earlier studies showed reduced immunity in widowers. For both men and women, the stress of losing a spouse can have a profound effect. "All sorts of potentially harmful medical problems can be worsened, "says Gerald Davison, professor of psychology at the University of Southern California. People with high blood pressure, for example, may see it rise. In Nixon’s case, Davison speculates, "the stroke, although not caused directly by the stress, was probably hastened by it." Depression can affect the surviving spouse’s will to live; suicide are elevated in the bereaved, along with accidents not involving cars. Involvement in life helps prolong it. Mortality, says Duke University psychiatrist Daniel Blazer, is higher in older people without a good social - support - system, who don’t feel they’re part of a group or a family, that they "fit in" somewhere. And that’s a more common problem for men, who tend not to have as many close friendships as women. The sudden absence of routines can also be a health hazard, says Blazer. "A person who loses a spouse shows deterioration in normal habits like sleeping and eating." he says. "They don’t have that other person to orient them, like when do you go to bed, when do you wake up, when do you eat, when do you take your medication, when do you go out to take a walk Your pattern is no longer locked into someone else’s pattern, so it deteriorates." While earlier studies suggested that the first six months to a year - or even the first week -- were times of higher mortality for the bereaved, some newer studies find no special vulnerability in this initial period. Most men and women, of course do not die as a result of the loss of a spouse. And there are ways to improve the odds. A strong sense of separate identity and lack of over - dependency during the marriage are helpful. Adult sons and daughters, siblings and friends need to pay special attention to a newly widowed parent. They can make sure that he or she is socializing, getting proper nutrition and medical care, expressing emotion and, above all, feeling needed and appreciated. One of the results of grief mentioned in the passage is ______.
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TEXT E Mornings at Seven For several years now my newsagent has been spelling my name incorrectly. Every morning I glance hopelessly at the top right - hand corner of my newspaper and wince. There is something vaguely uplifting about seeing one’s own name, one ‘s correct name written out in blue pencil at the top of a newspaper; and there is something litterly degrading about seeing one’s name carelessly distorted. I have mentioned the matter to my newsagent several times, but it makes no difference. He is a surly, militant, independent devil, a monopolist of the worst kind. He does not realise of course that his carelessness causes me endless trouble and no little embarrassment. I take my newspaper to the office, I read it on the train, and the people with whom I travel mispronounce my name because they have only the newsagent’s written instruction to goon. When I fail to recognise my spoken name they look at me suspiciously -- as though I have momentarily forgotten my latest alias. I used to rub out the newsagent’s blue pencillings before I left home, but modern newsprint does not stand up to modern erasers for long and my paper was always very much the worse for wear when I reached the station. For a few weeks I drafted an imaginary dog whenever I unfolded the newspaper in public. My travelling companions and office colleagues remained puzzled, however. Some of them seemed to think that I was leading a double life; the rest, that I was robbing somebody’s letter-60X on my way to work. Later I tried crossing out the newsagent’s mark and writing my correct name underneath it, but even this move was misinterpreted. At the office it was assumed that I made a practice of collecting discarded newspapers from the train and passing them off as my own. No one actually said as much, but action sometimes speak louder than words. Naturally, I could not tell the newsagent of all these things. He would have laughed me out of the shop. I could only repeat my earlier protest... I was at the shop early. He was standing behind the counter, and as soon as I saw him I knew that there would be some unpleasantness. Mr Higson is never at his best unshaven, in slippers atmosphere and braces, and smoking on an empty stomach. The little shop was heavy with the bitter - sweet odour of fresh newsprint and ink: stacks of crisp newspapers and magazines lay neatly on the counter, and Higson and the boy were making up the daily round. "Express, Mirror and Woman," said Higson with his eye on a grubby notebook. The boy collected the newspapers, flicked the magazine between their pages and placed the folded bundle before his master. Higson bent and scrawled a name in the top right - hand comer of the Express -- just to the right of the Crusader in Chains. "Times, Financial Times, Mail, "he barked. "Good morning, "I said, "Just a small point, I wonder..." Higson let his blue pencil clatter to the counter and looked up. "I thought it wouldn’t be long! "be said. "Must be a week or more since you last changed your order." "I don’t think..." "No use denying it, "he broke in. "All here in black and white. "He licked a finger and pushed at the pages of the notebook. "Here we are," he said. "February 14, Mail instead of Chronicle. March 14, Herald instead of Mail and cancel Telegraph for eight days. April I, Worker for Herald. May 26, Times instead of Felegraph, Chronicle instead of Worker. July 21 th.. "Surely, "I said, "I’ve a perfect right to read which papers I like!" "You and old Topham! "he said. "What’s Mr Topham to do with it "I said. "Well he’s another of em. Chop and change, chop and change. Must think I’ve nothing better to do." "As a matter of fact, "I said, "I called on quite another matter. I wanted to draw your attention to the fact that there are two L’s in my name." "You gone and cbanged it again then " he said. "And I should be obliged if you would spell it properly in future." "0. K. , 0. K. , "he said. "Two L’s, anything else while we’re about it How about ordering the Manchester Guardian every other Friday" "No, that’s all, "I said with all the digmity I could master. "Chronicle and Graphic," he yelled. "Come on, boy, wake up! Haven’t got all day!" Half an hour later my newspaper crashed through the letterbox. In the top right-handed corner, heavily underlined, was the word "Topham." According to the text the newsagent last wrote out "Topham’on the top right-handed comer of the author’s paper because ______.
TEXT B The sea lay like an unbroken mirror all around the pine - girt, lonely shores of Orr’s Island. Tall, kingly spruces wore their regal crowns of cones high in air, sparkling with diamonds of clear exuded gum; vast old hemlocks of primeval growth stood darkling in their forest shadows, their branches hung with long hoary moss; while feathery larches, turned to brilliant gold by autumn frosts, lighted up the darker shadows of the evergreens. It was one of those hazy, calm, dissolving days of Indian summer, when everything is so quiet that the faintest kiss of the wave on the beach can be heard, and white clouds seem to faint into the blue of the sky, and soft swathing bands of violet vapor make all earth look dreamy, and give to the sharp, clear - cut outlines of the northern landscape all those mysteries of light and shade which impart such tenderness to Italian scenery. The funeral was over, --the tread of many feet, bearing the heavy burden of two broken lives, had been to the lonely graveyard, and had come back again, -- each footstep lighter and more unconstrained as each one went his way from the great old tragedy of Death to the common cheerful of Life. The solemn black clock stood swaying with its eternal "tick - tock, tick - rock," in the kitchen of the brown house on Orr’s Island. There was there that sense of a stillness that can be felt, -- such as settles down on a dwelling when any of its inmates have passed through its doors for the last time, to go whence they shall not return. The best room was shut up and darkened, with only so much light as could fall through a little heart - shaped hole in the window - shutter, -- for except on solemn visits, or prayer - meetings or weddings, or funerals, that room formed no part of the daily family scenery’. The kitchen was clean and ample, with a great open fireplace and wide stone hearth, and oven on one side, and rows of old - fashioned splint - bottomed chairs against the wall. A table scoured to snowy white-ness, and a little work - stand whereon lay the Bible, the Mixssionary Herald, and the Weekly Christian Mirror, before named, formed the principal furniture. One feature, however, must not be forgotten, -- a great sea-chest, which had been the companion of Zephaniah through all the countries of the earth. Old, and battered, and unsightly it looked, yet report said that there was good store within of that which men for the most part respect more than anything else; and, indeed, it proved often when a deed of grace was to be done -- when a woman was suddenly made a widow in a coast gale, or a fishing-smack Was run down in the fogs off the banks, leaving in some neighboring cottage a family of orphans, -- in all such cases, the opening of this sea-chest was an event of good omen to the bereaved; for Zephaniah had a large heart and a large hand, and was apt to take it out full of silver dollars when once it went in. So the ark of the covenant could not have been looked on with more reverence than the neighbors usually showed to Captain Pennel’s sea-chest. The author describes Orr’s Island in a (n) ______ manner.
TEXT C James Michener In his long writing life, James Michener aimed to donate at least 90 percent of what he earned from his 43 novels. He seems to have more than made his goal; at his death, in October 1997, his assets were estimated at less than US $ 10 million. He had given away US $ 117 million. Michener makes a good example for other philanthropists, not just in how much he gave, but in his style of giving. The writer worked hard at doing good, following up his donations to see how the money was used. He gave to things for which he had a passion, and he had a lot of fun in doing so. Michener was 90, when he died. He was on Fortune magazine’s list of America’s top 25 philanthropists--the only writer in a crowd of tycoons. Asked, shortly before his death, whether he ever wished he had his millions back, he said sure, so that he should have the pleasure of giving them away again. Too often, says Nelson Aldrich, editor of The American Benefactor, a magazine about philanthropists, the rich give without much imagination. "They give to the college they went to, and the hospital where they’ll die," says. "And most of the rich are stingy; few give even as much as 10 percent, the traditional title. They hold on to the myth of not darkness capital." Michener did, in fact, give to his college - US $ 7.2 million to Swarthmore, in Pennsylvania. He called it a repayment for the US $ 2,000 basketball scholarship they gave him in 1925. As he wrote to the college president in 1969," Coming as I did from a family with no income at all, and with no prospects whatever, college was the narrow door that led from darkness into light." His will leaves almost everything to Swarthmore, including fire, re royalties from his books. Michener always described himself as a founding, beta in New York City and raised by Mabel Michener, a Quaker widow, in Doylestown, Pennsylvania. She lived, he said, by taking in other people’s children and other people’s laundry. For his last 15 years, Michener lived modestly in Austin, Texas, where he has moved to write the 1,000 - page saga Texas. Each of his big best sellers, including Texas, Hawaii and Covenant made about US $ 5million. And there were 20 of them. What’s more, he still collected royalties from the musical and movie South Pacific, which was inspired by his first book, Tales of the South Pacific, written when he was 40. Frail from kidney disease in his last years, Michener was pretty much confined to a reclining chair in a small study, simply decorated. There were few personal possessions besides some photos of himself and his last wife, and as unframed faded poster of Tahiti. A source of pleasure and company in those years was the Texas Centre for Writers. His largest gift, to-tailing US $ 64.2 million, went to the University of Texas, with US $ 18 million going to found and support the writers’centre. He got a lot back, he said--" You meet bright people, you can consult with anybody there, and there are 23 libraries on campus." Every year Michener would meet with the 10 incoming students, one by one, and he went out with them every fall to the salt Lick barbecue restaurant, lie often ale at the college cafeteria, centre director James Magnuson recalls. He enjoyed their barbecue chicken special. His gift to the Texas Centre included hundreds of modern American paintings worth a total of US $ 31 million. His US $ 25 million collection of Japanese prints had already been donated to Honolulu’s city art gallery. His next largest gift was $ 11.5 million to two museums and the library in his hometown of Doylestown. Michener’s smaller gifts also reveal a lot about where his affections lay. And they reveal that it was a very good thing to have James Miehener working in your vicinity. While researching Alaska, for example, he lived in a log cabin near the tiny Sheldon Jackson College in Sitka. He used the campus library and sat and talked to students in the cafeteria. After he left, he gave the college US $ 750,000 for scholarships. After living in Houston on write Space, he endowed a college scholarship fund for the children of Nasa employees pursuing careers in science or engineering. Since 1982,73 scholarships have been given out. After writing Centennial, on the settling of the West, Michener donated US $ 50,000 to help pay for the Nebraska National Trails Museum. The University of Miami, where Michener did his research for Caribbean ,got US $ 1 million for a writing programme for graduate students ,especially those from the islands. Similarly, after finishing Poland, Michener established a US $ 400,000 fund to support Polish writers. Michener considered himself a professional. writer, not an author; "author" struck him as a pretentious term. Like his writing, his philanthropy was intended to educate; thus this support of colleges, libraries and museums. Michener was generous to writers, whose books were very different from him. For example, he endowed a US $ 30,000 ------- as year fellowship at the University of Houston named for Donald Barthelme, a notably surreal and sophisticated fiction writer. Michener endowed eight fellowships a year for graduates of the Univeristy of Iowa Writers Workshop, where the books produced tend to be slimmer, subtler and moodier than the typical Michener. The money was to support the young poets and novelists for a year while they struggled to get published. Frank Conroy, work-shop director, remembers, "It wasn’t just a case of, here’s some money, go and do good.’ He was a man who knew it was not easy to do good. You have to think, and think hard, to do good." Which of the following is true according to the text
TEXT C James Michener In his long writing life, James Michener aimed to donate at least 90 percent of what he earned from his 43 novels. He seems to have more than made his goal; at his death, in October 1997, his assets were estimated at less than US $ 10 million. He had given away US $ 117 million. Michener makes a good example for other philanthropists, not just in how much he gave, but in his style of giving. The writer worked hard at doing good, following up his donations to see how the money was used. He gave to things for which he had a passion, and he had a lot of fun in doing so. Michener was 90, when he died. He was on Fortune magazine’s list of America’s top 25 philanthropists--the only writer in a crowd of tycoons. Asked, shortly before his death, whether he ever wished he had his millions back, he said sure, so that he should have the pleasure of giving them away again. Too often, says Nelson Aldrich, editor of The American Benefactor, a magazine about philanthropists, the rich give without much imagination. "They give to the college they went to, and the hospital where they’ll die," says. "And most of the rich are stingy; few give even as much as 10 percent, the traditional title. They hold on to the myth of not darkness capital." Michener did, in fact, give to his college - US $ 7.2 million to Swarthmore, in Pennsylvania. He called it a repayment for the US $ 2,000 basketball scholarship they gave him in 1925. As he wrote to the college president in 1969," Coming as I did from a family with no income at all, and with no prospects whatever, college was the narrow door that led from darkness into light." His will leaves almost everything to Swarthmore, including fire, re royalties from his books. Michener always described himself as a founding, beta in New York City and raised by Mabel Michener, a Quaker widow, in Doylestown, Pennsylvania. She lived, he said, by taking in other people’s children and other people’s laundry. For his last 15 years, Michener lived modestly in Austin, Texas, where he has moved to write the 1,000 - page saga Texas. Each of his big best sellers, including Texas, Hawaii and Covenant made about US $ 5million. And there were 20 of them. What’s more, he still collected royalties from the musical and movie South Pacific, which was inspired by his first book, Tales of the South Pacific, written when he was 40. Frail from kidney disease in his last years, Michener was pretty much confined to a reclining chair in a small study, simply decorated. There were few personal possessions besides some photos of himself and his last wife, and as unframed faded poster of Tahiti. A source of pleasure and company in those years was the Texas Centre for Writers. His largest gift, to-tailing US $ 64.2 million, went to the University of Texas, with US $ 18 million going to found and support the writers’centre. He got a lot back, he said--" You meet bright people, you can consult with anybody there, and there are 23 libraries on campus." Every year Michener would meet with the 10 incoming students, one by one, and he went out with them every fall to the salt Lick barbecue restaurant, lie often ale at the college cafeteria, centre director James Magnuson recalls. He enjoyed their barbecue chicken special. His gift to the Texas Centre included hundreds of modern American paintings worth a total of US $ 31 million. His US $ 25 million collection of Japanese prints had already been donated to Honolulu’s city art gallery. His next largest gift was $ 11.5 million to two museums and the library in his hometown of Doylestown. Michener’s smaller gifts also reveal a lot about where his affections lay. And they reveal that it was a very good thing to have James Miehener working in your vicinity. While researching Alaska, for example, he lived in a log cabin near the tiny Sheldon Jackson College in Sitka. He used the campus library and sat and talked to students in the cafeteria. After he left, he gave the college US $ 750,000 for scholarships. After living in Houston on write Space, he endowed a college scholarship fund for the children of Nasa employees pursuing careers in science or engineering. Since 1982,73 scholarships have been given out. After writing Centennial, on the settling of the West, Michener donated US $ 50,000 to help pay for the Nebraska National Trails Museum. The University of Miami, where Michener did his research for Caribbean ,got US $ 1 million for a writing programme for graduate students ,especially those from the islands. Similarly, after finishing Poland, Michener established a US $ 400,000 fund to support Polish writers. Michener considered himself a professional. writer, not an author; "author" struck him as a pretentious term. Like his writing, his philanthropy was intended to educate; thus this support of colleges, libraries and museums. Michener was generous to writers, whose books were very different from him. For example, he endowed a US $ 30,000 ------- as year fellowship at the University of Houston named for Donald Barthelme, a notably surreal and sophisticated fiction writer. Michener endowed eight fellowships a year for graduates of the Univeristy of Iowa Writers Workshop, where the books produced tend to be slimmer, subtler and moodier than the typical Michener. The money was to support the young poets and novelists for a year while they struggled to get published. Frank Conroy, work-shop director, remembers, "It wasn’t just a case of, here’s some money, go and do good.’ He was a man who knew it was not easy to do good. You have to think, and think hard, to do good." Which title is more appropriate to express the primary idea
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