题目内容
TEXT B It was said by Sir George Bernard Shaw that "England and America are two countries separated by the same language." My first personal experience of this was when I worked as a camp counselor for two months in 2000 in Summer Camp run by the Boy Scouts of America, as part of an international leader exchange scheme. Before I went, all the participants in the scheme were given a short list of words that are in common use in the UK which Americans would either be confused by or would even offend them. I memorized the words and thought "I’ll cope". When I finally arrived in the States three months later, I realized that perhaps a lifetime of watching American television was not adequate preparation for appreciating and coping with the differences between American and British speech. In the first hour of arriving at the camp I was exposed to High School American English, Black American English and American English spoken by Joe Public, all every different to each other. Needless to say, I did cope in the end. The Americans I met were very welcoming and helpful, and I found they were patient with me when I made a social faux pas when I used an inappropriate word or phrase. Upon my return I began to wonder whether anyone had documented the differences between American and British English. I found several books on the subject but often these were written in a dry and academic way. I felt that I could do better and use my sense of humor and personal experiences to help people from both sides of Atlantic to communicate more effectively when they meet. My research into the subject led me to several conclusions. Firstly, American English and British English are coveting, thanks to increased transatlantic travel and the media. The movement of slang words is mostly eastwards, though a few words from the UK have been adopted by the Ivy League fraternities, This convergent trend is a recent one dating from the emergence of Hollywood as the predominant film making center in the world and also from the Second World War when large numbers of American GIs were stationed in the UK. This trend was consolidated by the advent of television. Before then, it was thought that American English and British English would diverge as the two languages evolved. In 1789, Noah Webster stated that: "Numerous local causes, such as a new country, new associations of people, new combinations of ideas in the arts and some intercourse with tribes wholly unknown in Europe will introduce new words into the American tongue." He was right, but his next statement has since been proved to be incorrect. "These causes will produce in the course of time a language in North America as different from the modern Dutch, Danish and Swedish are from the German or from one another." Webster had underrated the mount of social intercourse between England and her former colony. Even before Webster had started to compile his dictionary, words and expressions from the America had already infiltrated the British language, for example "canoe" and "hatchet". Secondly, there are some generalizations that can be made about American and British English which can reveal the nature of the two nations and their peoples. British speech tends to be less general, and directed more, in nuances of meaning, attendant murmurings and pauses, carries a wealth of shared assumptions and attitudes. In other words, the British are preoccupied with their social status within society and speak and act accordingly to fit into the social class they aspire to. This is particularly evident when talking to someone from "the middle class" when he points out that he is "upper middle class" rather than "middle class" or "lower middle class". John Major (the former UK Prime Minister) may have said that we are now living in a "classless society" but the class system still prevails. At that moment both he and the Leader of the Opposition, Tony Blair, were talking about capturing the "middle England", " middle class vote" as the key to winning the next general election. American speech tends to be influenced by the over-heated language of much of the media, which is designed to attach an impression of exciting activity to passive, if sometimes insignificant events. Yet, curiously, really violent activity and life-changing events are hidden in blind antiseptic tones that serve to disguise the reality. Two examples come readily to mind—the US Military with their "friendly fire" and "collateral damages" and the business world with their "downsizing". British people tend to understatement whereas Americans towards hyperbole. A Briton might respond to a suggestion with a word such as "Terrific!" only if he is expressing rapturous enthusiasm, whereas an American might use the word merely to signify polite assent. Thirdly, The American language has less regard than the British for grammatical form, and will happily bulldoze its way across distinctions rather than steer a path between them. American English will casually use one form of a word for another, for example turning nouns into verbs or verbs and nouns into adjectives. The British people, as is revealed by their language
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TEXT D I know now that the man who sat with me on the old wooden stairs that hot summer night over thirty-five years ago was not a tall man. But to a five-year-old, he was a giant. We sat side by side, watching the sun go down behind the old Texaco service station across the busy street, a street that I was never allowed to cross unless accompanied by an adult, or at the very least, an older sibling. Cherry-scented smoke from Grandpa’s pipe kept the hungry mosquitoes at bay while gray, wispy swirls danced around our heads. Now and again, he blew a smoke ring and laughed as I fried to target the hole with ray finger. I, clad in a cool summer night, and Grandpa, his sleeveless T-shirt, sat watching the traffic. We counted cars and tried to guess the color of the next one to turn the corner. Once again, I was caught in the middle of circumstances. The fourth born of six children, it was not uncommon that I was either too young or too old for something. This night I was both. While my two baby brothers slept inside the house, my three older siblings played with friends around the comer, where I was not allowed to go. I stayed with Grandpa, and that was okay with me. I was where I wanted to be. My grandfather was babysitting while my mother, father and grandmother went out. "Thirsty" Grandpa asked, never removing the pipe from his mouth. "Yes," was my reply. "How would you like to nm over to the gas station there and get yourself a bottle of Coke" I couldn’t believe my ears. Had I heard it right Was he talking to me On my family’s modest income, Coke was not a part of our budget or diet. A few tantalizing sips was all I had ever had, and certainly never my own bottle. "Okay," I replied shyly, already wondering how I would get across the street. Surely Grandpa was going to come with me. Grandpa stretched his long leg out straight and reached his huge hand deep into the pocket. I could hear the familiar jangling of the loose change he always carded. Opening his fist, he exposed a mound of silver coins. There must have been a million dollars there, He instructed me to pick out a dime. After he deposited the rest of the change back into his pocket, he stood up. "Okay," he said, helping me down the stairs and to the curb, "I’m going to stay here and keep an ear out for the babies. I’ll tell yon when it’s safe to cross. You go over to the Coke machine, get your Coke and come back out. Wait for me to tell you when it’s safe to cross back." My heart pounded. I clutched my dime tightly in my sweaty palm. Excitement took my breath away. Grandpa held my hand tightly. Together we looked up the street and down, and back up again. He stepped off the curb and told me it was safe to cross. He let go of my hand and I ran. I ran faster than I had ever run before. The street seemed wide. I wondered if I would make it to the other side. Reaching the other side, I turned to fred Grandpa. There he was, standing exactly where I had left him, smiling proudly. I waved. "Go on, hurry up," he yelled. My heart pounded wildly as I walked inside the dark garage. I had been inside the garage before with my father. My surroundings were familiar. I heard the Coca-Cola machine motor humming even before I saw it. I walked directly to the big old red-and-white dispenser. I knew where to insert my dime. I had seen it done before and had fantasized about this moment many times. The big old monster greedily accepted my dime, and I heard the bottles shift. On tiptoes I reached up and opened the heavy door. There they were: one neat row of thick green bottles, necks staring directly at me, and ice cold from the refrigeration. I held the door open with my shoulder and grabbed one. With a quick yank, I pulled it free from its bondage. Another one immediately took its place. The bottle was cold in my sweaty hands. I will never forget the feeling of the cool glass on my akin With two hands, I positioned the bottleneck under the heavy brass opener that was bolted to the wall. The cap dropped into an old wooden box, and I reached in to retrieve it. I was cold and bent in the middle, but I knew I needed to have this souvenir. Coke in hand, I prondly marched back out into the early evening dusk Grandpa was waiting patiently. He smiled. "Stop right there," he yelled. One or two cars sped by me, and once again, Grandpa stepped off the curb. "Come on, now," he said, "run." I did. Cool brown foam sprayed my hands. "Don’t ever do that alone," he warned. I held the Coke bottle tightly; fearful he would make me pour it into a cup, ruining this dream come true. He didn’t, One long swallow of the cold beverage cooled my sweating body. I don’t think I ever felt so proud. By saying "I was caught in the middle of circumstances" in the third paragraph, the author means
商业银行稳健发展的基础是妥善管理风险。商业银行所面临的风险主要有哪些种类商业银行管理利率风险的方法主要有哪些
TEXT D I know now that the man who sat with me on the old wooden stairs that hot summer night over thirty-five years ago was not a tall man. But to a five-year-old, he was a giant. We sat side by side, watching the sun go down behind the old Texaco service station across the busy street, a street that I was never allowed to cross unless accompanied by an adult, or at the very least, an older sibling. Cherry-scented smoke from Grandpa’s pipe kept the hungry mosquitoes at bay while gray, wispy swirls danced around our heads. Now and again, he blew a smoke ring and laughed as I fried to target the hole with ray finger. I, clad in a cool summer night, and Grandpa, his sleeveless T-shirt, sat watching the traffic. We counted cars and tried to guess the color of the next one to turn the corner. Once again, I was caught in the middle of circumstances. The fourth born of six children, it was not uncommon that I was either too young or too old for something. This night I was both. While my two baby brothers slept inside the house, my three older siblings played with friends around the comer, where I was not allowed to go. I stayed with Grandpa, and that was okay with me. I was where I wanted to be. My grandfather was babysitting while my mother, father and grandmother went out. "Thirsty" Grandpa asked, never removing the pipe from his mouth. "Yes," was my reply. "How would you like to nm over to the gas station there and get yourself a bottle of Coke" I couldn’t believe my ears. Had I heard it right Was he talking to me On my family’s modest income, Coke was not a part of our budget or diet. A few tantalizing sips was all I had ever had, and certainly never my own bottle. "Okay," I replied shyly, already wondering how I would get across the street. Surely Grandpa was going to come with me. Grandpa stretched his long leg out straight and reached his huge hand deep into the pocket. I could hear the familiar jangling of the loose change he always carded. Opening his fist, he exposed a mound of silver coins. There must have been a million dollars there, He instructed me to pick out a dime. After he deposited the rest of the change back into his pocket, he stood up. "Okay," he said, helping me down the stairs and to the curb, "I’m going to stay here and keep an ear out for the babies. I’ll tell yon when it’s safe to cross. You go over to the Coke machine, get your Coke and come back out. Wait for me to tell you when it’s safe to cross back." My heart pounded. I clutched my dime tightly in my sweaty palm. Excitement took my breath away. Grandpa held my hand tightly. Together we looked up the street and down, and back up again. He stepped off the curb and told me it was safe to cross. He let go of my hand and I ran. I ran faster than I had ever run before. The street seemed wide. I wondered if I would make it to the other side. Reaching the other side, I turned to fred Grandpa. There he was, standing exactly where I had left him, smiling proudly. I waved. "Go on, hurry up," he yelled. My heart pounded wildly as I walked inside the dark garage. I had been inside the garage before with my father. My surroundings were familiar. I heard the Coca-Cola machine motor humming even before I saw it. I walked directly to the big old red-and-white dispenser. I knew where to insert my dime. I had seen it done before and had fantasized about this moment many times. The big old monster greedily accepted my dime, and I heard the bottles shift. On tiptoes I reached up and opened the heavy door. There they were: one neat row of thick green bottles, necks staring directly at me, and ice cold from the refrigeration. I held the door open with my shoulder and grabbed one. With a quick yank, I pulled it free from its bondage. Another one immediately took its place. The bottle was cold in my sweaty hands. I will never forget the feeling of the cool glass on my akin With two hands, I positioned the bottleneck under the heavy brass opener that was bolted to the wall. The cap dropped into an old wooden box, and I reached in to retrieve it. I was cold and bent in the middle, but I knew I needed to have this souvenir. Coke in hand, I prondly marched back out into the early evening dusk Grandpa was waiting patiently. He smiled. "Stop right there," he yelled. One or two cars sped by me, and once again, Grandpa stepped off the curb. "Come on, now," he said, "run." I did. Cool brown foam sprayed my hands. "Don’t ever do that alone," he warned. I held the Coke bottle tightly; fearful he would make me pour it into a cup, ruining this dream come true. He didn’t, One long swallow of the cold beverage cooled my sweating body. I don’t think I ever felt so proud. From the first three paragraphs, we can infer that
In this section you will hear everything ONCE ONLY. Listen carefully and then answer the questions that follow. Mark the correct answer to each question on your coloured answer sheet. What should the children do to ensure the possession of their sites
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