(完整版)大学英语精读3课文(第三版)_中英文对照

Unit 1 Some Strategies for Learning EnglishLearning English is by no means easy. It takes great diligence and prolonged effort. Nevertheless, while you cannot expect to gain a good command of English without sustained hard work, there are various helpful learning strategies you can employ to make the task easier. Here are some of them.1. Do not treat all new words in exactly the same way. Have you ever complained about your memory because you find it simply impossible to memorize all the new words you are learning? But, in fact, it is not your memory that is at fault. If you cram your head with too many new words at a time, some of them are bound to be crowded out. What you need to do is to deal with new words in different ways according to how frequently they occur in everyday use. While active words demand constant practice and useful words must be committed to memory, words that do not often occur in everyday situations require just a nodding acquaintance. You will find concentrating on active and useful words the most effective route to enlarging your vocabulary.2. Watch out for idiomatic ways of saying things. Have you ever wondered why we say, “I am interested in English”, but “I am good at French”? And have you ever asked yourself why nati ve English speakers say, “learn the news or secret”, but “learn of someone’s success or arrival”? These are all examples of idiomatic usage. In learning English, you must pay attention not only to the meaning of a word, but also to the way native speakers use it in their daily lives.3. Listen to English every day. Listening to English on a regular basis will not only improve your ear, but will also help you build your speaking skills. In addition to language tapes especially prepared for your course, you can also listen to English radio broadcasts, watch English TV, and see English movies. The first time you listen to a taped conversation or passage in English, you may not be able to catch a great deal. Try to get its general meaning first and listen to it over and over again. You will find that with each repetition you will get something more.4. Seize opportunities to speak.It is true that there are few situations at school where you have to communicate in English, but you can seek out opportunities to practice speaking the language. Talking with your classmates, for example, can be an easy and enjoyable way to get some practice. Also try to find native speakers on your campus and feel free to talk with them. Perhaps the easiest way to practice speaking is to rehearse aloud, since this can be done at any time, in any place, and without a partner. For instance, you can look at pictures or objects around you and try to describe them in detail. You can also rehearse everyday situations. After you have made a purchase in a shop or finished a meal in a restaurant and paid the check, pretend that all this happened in an English-speaking country and try to act it out in English.5. Read widely.It is important to read widely because in our learning environment, reading is the main and most reliable source of language input. When you choose reading materials, look for things that you find interesting, that you can understand without relying too much on a dictionary. A page a day is a good way to start. As you go on, you will find that you can do more pages a day and handle materials at a higher level of difficulty.6. Write regularly. Writing is a good way to practice what you already know. Apart from compositions assigned by your teacher, you may find your own reasons for writing. A pen pal provides good motivation; you will learn a lot by trying to communicate with someone who shares your interests, but comes from a different culture. Other ways to write regularly include keeping a diary, writing a short story and summarizing the daily news.Language learning is a process of accumulation. It pays to absorb as much as you can from reading and listening and then try to put what you have learned into practice through speaking and writing.Unit 2 Sailing Round the WorldBefore he sailed round the world single-handed, Francis Chichester had already surprised his friends several times. He had tried to fly round the world but failed. That was in 1931.The years passed. He gave up flying and began sailing. He enjoyed it greatly. Chichester was already 58 years old when he won the first solo transatlantic sailing race. His old dream of going round the world came back, but this time he would sail. His friends and doctors did not think he could do it, as he had lung cancer. But Chichester was determined to carry out his plan. In August, 1963, at the age of nearly sixty-five, an age when many men retire, he began the greatest voyage of his life. Soon, he was away in this new 16-metre boat, Gipsy Moth.Chichester followed the route of the great nineteenth century clipper ships. But the clippers had had plenty of crew. Chicheater did it all by himself, even after the main steering device had been damaged by gales. Chichester covered 14, 100 miles before stopping in Sydney, Australia. This was more than twice the distance anyone hadpreviously sailed alone.He arrived in Australia on 12 December, just 107 days out from England. He received a warm welcome from the Australians and from his family who had flown there to meet him. On shore, Chichester could not walk without help. Everybody said the same thing: he had done enough; he must not go any further. But he did not listen.After resting in Sydney for a few weeks, Chichester set off once more in spite of his friends' attempts to dissuade him. The second half of his voyage was by far the more dangerous part, during which he sailed round the treacherous Cape Horn.On 29 January he left Australia. The next night, the blackest he had ever known, the sea became so rough that the boat almost turned over. Food, clothes, and broken glass were all mixed together. Fortunately, bed and went to sleep. When he woke up, the sea had become calm the nearest person he could contact by radio, unless there was a ship nearby, Wild be on an island 885 miles away.After succeeding in sailing round Cape Horn, Chichester sent the following radio message to London:" I feel as if I had wakened from a nightmare. Wild horses could not drag me down to Cape Horn and that sinister Southern Ocean again."Just before 9 o'clock on Sunday evening 28 May, 1967, he arrived back in England, where a quarter of a million people were waiting to welcome him. Queen Elizabeth II knighted him with the very sword that Queen Elizabeth I had sailed round the world for the first time. The whole voyage from England and back had covered 28, 500 miles. It had taken him nine months, of which the sailing time was 226 days. He had done what he wanted to accomplish.Like many other adventurers, Chichester had experienced fear and conquered it. In doing so, he had undoubtedly learnt something about himself. Moreover, in the modern age when human beings depend so much on machines, he had given men throughout the world new pride.Unit 3 The PresentIt was the old lady's birthday.She got up early to be ready for the post. From the second floor flat she could see the postman when he came down the street, and the little boy from the ground floor brought up her letters on the rare occasions when anything came.Today she was sure the would be something. Myra wouldn't forget her mother's birthday, even if she seldom wrote at other times. Of course Myra was busy. Her husband had been made Mayor, and Myra herself had got a medal for her work the aged.The old lady was proud of Myra, but Enid was the daughter she loved. Enid had never married, but had seemed content to live with her mother, and teach in a primary school round the corner.One evening, however, Enid said, "I've arranged for Mrs. Morrison to look after you for a few days, Mother. Tomorrow I have to go into hospital--just a minor operation, I'll soon be home."In the morning she went, but never came back--she died on the operating table. Myra came to the funeral, and in her efficient way arranged for Mrs. Morrison to come in and light the fire and give the old lady her breakfast.Two years ago that was, and since then Myra had been to see her mother three times, but her husband never.The old lady was eight today. She had put on her best dress. Perhaps--perhaps Myra might come. After all, eighty was a special birthday, another decade lined or endured just as you chose to look at it.Even if Myra did not come, she would send a present. The old lady was sure of that. Two spots of colour brightened her cheeks. She was excited--like a child. She would enjoy her day.Yesterday Mrs. Morrison had given the flat an extra clean, and today she had brought a card and a bunch of marigolds when she came to do the breakfast. Mrs. Grant downstairs had made a cake, and in the afternoon she was going down there to tea. The little boy, Johnnie, had been up with a packet of mints, and said he wouldn't go out to play until the post had come."I guess you'll get lots and lots of presents," he said, "I did last were when I was six."What would she like? A pair of slippers perhaps. Or a new cardigan. A cardigan would be lovely. Blue's such a pretty colour. Jim had always liked her in blue. Or a table lamp. Or a book, a travel book, with pictures, or a little clock, with clear black numbers. So many lovely things.She stood by the window, watching. The postman turned round the corner on his bicycle. Her heart beat fast. Johnnie had seen him too and ran to the gate.Then clatter, clatter up the stairs. Johnnie knocked at her door."Granny, granny," he shouted, "I've got your post."He gave her four envelopes. Three were unsealed cards from old friends. The fourth was sealed, in Myra's writing. The old lady felt a pang of disappointment."No parcel, Johnnie?""No, granny."Maybe the parcel was too large to come by letter post. That was it. It would come later by parcel post. She must be patient.Almost reluctantly she tore the envelope open. Folded in the card was a piece of paper. Written on the card was a message under the printed Happy Birthday -- Buy yourself something nice with the cheque, Myra and Harold.The cheque fluttered to the floor like a bird with a broken wing. Slowly the old lady stooped to pick it up. Her present, her lovely present. With trembling fingers she tore it into little bits.Unit 4 Turning off TV: a Quiet HourI would like to propose that for sixty to ninety minutes each evening, right after the early evening news, all television broadcasting in the United States be prohibited by law.Let us take a serious, reasonable look at what the results be if such a proposal were accepted. Families might use the time for a real family hour. Without the distraction of TV, they might sit around together after dinner and actually talk to one another. It is well known that many of our problems -- everything, in fact, from the generation gap to the high divorce rate to some forms of mental illness -- are caused at least in part by failure to communicate. We do not tell each other what is disturbing us. The result is emotional difficulty of one kind or another. By using the quiet family hour to discuss our problems, we might get to know each other better, and to like each other better.On evenings when such talk is unnecessary, families could rediscover more active pastimes. Freed from TV, forced to find their own activities, they might take a ride together to watch the sunset. Or they might take a walk together (remember feet?) and see the neighborhood with fresh, new eyes.With free time and no TV, children and adults might rediscover reading. There is more entertainment in a good book than in a month of typical TV programming. Educators report that the generation growing up with television can barely write an English sentence, even at the college level. Writing is often learned from reading. A more literate new generation could be a product of the quiet hour.A different form of reading might also be done, as it was in the past: reading aloud. Few pastimes bring a family closer together than gathering around and listening to mother or father read a good story. The quiet hour could become the story hour. When the quiet hour ends, the TV networks might even be forced to come up with better shows in order to get us back from our newly discovered activities.At first glance, the idea of an hour without TV seems radical. What will parents do without the electronic baby-sitter? How will we spend the time? But it is not radical at all. It has been only twenty-five years since television came to control American free time. Those of us thirty-five and older can remember childhoods without television, spent partly with radio -- which at least involved the listener's imagination -- but also with reading, learning, talking, playing games, inventing new activities. It wasn't that difficult. Honest. The truth is we had a ball.Unit 5 I never write rightWhen I was 15, I announced to my English class that I was going to write and illustrate my own books. Half the students sneered; the rest nearly fell out of their chairs laughing."Don't be silly. Only geniuses can become writers," the English teacher saidsmugly. "And you are getting a D this semester."I was so humiliated I burst into tears. That night I wrote a short, sad poem about broken dreams and mailed it to the Capper's Weekly newspaper. To my astonishment they published it, and sent me two dollars. I was a published and paid writer! I showed my teacher and fellow students. They laughed."Just plain dumb luck," the teacher said.I'd tasted success. I'd sold the first thing I'd ever written. That was more than any of them had done, and if it was "just dumb luck," that was fine with me.During the next two years I sold dozens of poems, letters, jokes and recipes. By the time I graduated from high school (with a C-minus average), I had scrapbooks filled with my published work. I never mentioned my writing to my teachers, friends or my family again. They were dream killers, and if people must choose between their friends and their dreams, they must always choose their dreams.But sometimes you do find a friend who supports your dreams. "It's easy to write a book," that new friend told me. "You can do it.""I don't know if I'm smart enough," I said, suddenly feeling 15 again and hearing echoes of laughter."Nonsense!" she said. "Anyone can write a book if they want to."I had four children at the time, and the oldest was only four. We lived on a goat farm in Oklahoma, miles from anyone. All I had to do each day was take care of four kids, milk goats, and do the cooking, laundry and gardening. No problem.While the children napped, I typed on my ancient typewriter. I wrote what I felt. It took nine months, just like a baby.I chose a publisher at random and put the manuscript in an empty Pampers diapers package, the only box I could find (I'd never heard of manuscript boxes). The letter Ienclosed read: "I wrote this book myself, I hope you like it. I also drew the illustrations. Chapters 6 and 12 are my favorites. Thank you."I tied a string around the diaper box and mailed it without a self-addressed stamped envelope, and without making a copy of the manuscript. A month later I received a contract, an advance on royalties and a request to start working on another book.Crying Wind became a bestseller, was translated into 15 languages and Braille, and sold worldwide. I appeared on TV talk shows during the day and changed diapers at night. I traveled from New York to California and Canada on promotional tours. My first book also became required reading in Native American schools in Canada.It took six months to write my next book. I mailed it in an empty Uncle Wiggley game box (I still hadn't heard of manuscript boxes). My Searching Heart also became a bestseller. I wrote my next novel, When I Give My Heart, in only three weeks.The worst year I ever had as a writer, I earned two dollars (I was 15, remember?). In my best year, I earned $36,000. Most years I earn between $5,000 and $10,000. No, it isn't enough to live on, but it's still more than I'd make working part-time, and it's $5,000 to $10,000 more than I'd make if I didn't write at all.People ask what college I attended, what degrees I have, and what qualifications I have to be a writer. The answer is none. I just write. I'm not a genius, I'm not gifted and I don't write right. I'm lazy, undisciplined, and spend more time with my children and friends than I do writing.I didn't own a thesaurus until four years ago and I use a small Webster's dictionary that I bought at Kmart for 89 cents. I use an electric typewriter that I paid $129 for six years ago. I've never used a word processor. I do all the cooking, cleaning andlaundry for a family of six and fit my writing in a few minutes here and there. I write everything in longhand on yellow tablets while sitting on the sofa with my four kids, eating pizza and watching TV. When the book is finished, I type it and mail it to the publisher.I've written eight books. Four have been published, and three are still out with the publishers. One stinks.To all those who dream of writing, I'm shouting at you, "Yes, you can! Yes, you can! Don't listen to them!" I don't write right, but I've beaten the odds. Writing is easy, it's fun, and anyone can do it. Of course, a little dumb luck doesn't hurt.Unit 6 Sam Adams, Industrial EngineerIf you ask my mother how I happened to become an industrial engineer, she'll tell you that I have always been one.She means that I have always wanted everything to be well organized and neat. When I was still in elementary school, I liked to keep my socks in the upper left-hand drawer of my bureau, my underwear in the upper right drawer, shirts in the middle drawer, and pants, neatly folded, in the bottom drawer.In fact, I was the efficiency expert for the whole family. I used to organize my father's tools, my mother's kitchen utensils, my sister's boyfriends.I needed to be efficient. I wanted to be well organized. For me, there was a place for everything and everything was always in its place. These qualities gave me a good foundation for a career in industrial engineering.Unfortunately, I was also a bit bossy and I wasn't a very good listener. You'll see what I mean when I tell you about the first project I ever did after I finished my bachelor's degree at the university.After graduation I returned home to my small town in Indiana. I didn't have a job yet. Mr. Hobbs, a friend of my father's, owned a small shirt factory in town. Withinthe past five years it had grown from twenty to eighty workers. Mr. Hobbs was worried that his plant was getting too big and inefficient, so he asked me to come in on a short-term basis as a consultant.I went to the plant and spent about a week looking around and making notes. I was really amazed at what I saw.Most curious of all, there was no quality control whatsoever. No one inspected the final product of the factory. As a result some of the shirts that were put in boxes for shipment were missing one or two buttons, the collar, even a sleeve sometimes!The working conditions were poor. The tables where the workers sat were very high and uncomfortable. Except for a half hour at lunchtime, there were no breaks in the day to relieve the boring work. There was no music. The walls of the workrooms were a dull gray color. I was amazed that the workers hadn't gone on strike.Furthermore, the work flow was irregular. There was one especially absent-minded young man in the assembly line who sewed on buttons. After a while I recognized him as "Big Jim," who used to sit behind me in math class in high school. He was very slow and all the shifts were held up at his position. Workers beyond him in line on his shift had to wait with nothing to do; therefore, a great deal of time and efficiency were lost as Big Jim daydreamed while he worked. All week I wondered why he wasn't fired.After I made observations for a week, Mr. Hobbs asked me for an oral report of my findings. I covered my major points by telling him the following: "If you have a quality control inspection, you will greatly improve your finished product.""If the assembly line is redesigned, a smooth work flow can be achieved and time and energy can be saved.""If you decrease the height of the worktables, the machine operators will work more comfortably.""If the management provides pleasant background music and beautifies the dull setting, the factory will be much more productive.""If the workers have a fifteen-minute coffee break in the morning and afternoon,they will be more efficient.""If excellent work results in frequent pay increases or promotions, the workers will have greater incentive to produce."Mr. Hobbs thanked me for this report and told me he would talk over my suggestions with his brother, the co-owner and manager of the factory. "We're interested in progress here," he said. "We want to keep up with the times."He also gave me a check for $ 100 and a box of shirts with his compliments.Unit 7 The SamplerIn a certain store where they sell puddings, a number of these delicious things are laid out in a row during the Christmas season. Here you may select the one which is most to your taste, and you are even allowed to sample them before coming to a decision.I have often wondered whether some people, who had no intention of making a purchase, would take advantage of this privilege. One day I asked this question of the shop girl, and I learned it was indeed the case."Now there's one old gentleman, for instance," she told me, "he comes here almost every week and samples each one of the puddings, though he never buys anything, and I suspect he never will. I remember him from last year before that, too. Well, let him come if he wants it, and welcome to it. And what's more, I hope there are a lot more stores where he can go and get his share. He looks as if he needed it all right, and I suppose they can afford it."She was still speaking when an elderly gentleman limped up to the counter and began looking closely at the row of puddings with great interest."Why, that's the very gentleman I've been telling you about," whispered the shop girl." Just watch him now." And then turning to him:" Would you like to sample them, sir? Here's spoon for you to use."The elderly gentleman, who was poorly but neatly dressed, accepted the spoon and began eagerly to sample one after another of the puddings, only braking off occasionally to wipe his red eyes with a large torn handkerchief."This is quite good.""This is not bad either, but a little too heavy."All the time it was quite evident that he sincerely believed that he might eventually buy one of these puddings, and I am positive that he did not for a moment feel that he was in any way cheating the store. Poor old chap! Probably he had come down in the world and this sampling was all that was left him from the time when he could afford to come and select his favorite pudding.Amidst the crowd of happy, prosperous looking Christmas shoppers, the little black figure of the old man seemed pitiful and out of place, and in a burst of benevolence, I went up to him and said:"Pardon me, sir, will you do me a favor? Let me purchase you one of these puddings. It would give me such pleasure."He jumped back as if he had been stung, and the blood rushed into his wrinkled face."Excuse me," he said, with more dignity than I would have thought possible considering his appearance, "I do not believe I have the pleasure of knowing you. Undoubtedly you have mistaken me for someone else." And with a quick decision he turned to the shop girl and said in a loud voice, "Kindly pack me up this one here. Iwill take it with me." He pointed at one of the largest and most expensive of the puddings.The girl took down the pudding from its stand and started to make a parcel of it, while he pulled out a worn little black pocketbook and began counting out shillings and pennies on to the counter. To save his "honour" he had been forced into a purchase which he could not possibly afford. How I longed for the power to unsay my tactless words! It was too late though, and I felt that the kindest thing I could do now would be walk away."You pay at the desk," the shop girl was telling him, but he did not seem to understand and kept trying to put the coins into her hand. And that was the last I saw or the old man. Now he can never go there to sample pudding any more.Unit 8 A Magician at Stretching a Dollar1.That December, with Christmas approaching, she was out at workand Doris was in the kitchen when I let myself into her bedroom one afternoon in search of a safety pin. Since her bedroom opened onto a community hallway, she kept the door locked, but needing the pin, I took the key from its hiking place, unlocked the door and stepped in.Standing against the wall was a big, black bicycle with balloon tires. I recognized it instantly. It was the same second-hand bike I'd beenadmiring in a Baltimore Street shop window. I'd even asked about the price. It was a shock. Something like $15. Somehow my mother had scraped together enough for a down payment and meant to surprise me with the bicycle on Christmas morning.2.I was deeply moved by the discovery and yet sickened by theknowledge that, bursting into her room like this, I had robbed her of the pleasure of seeing me astonished and delighted on Christmas day. I hadn't wanted to know her lovely secret; still coming upon it like this made me feel as though I'd struck a blow against her happiness. Ibacked out, put the key back in its hiding place, and thought over whatto do.3.I decided that between now and Christmas I must do nothing,absolutely nothing, to reveal the slightest hint of my terribleknowledge. I must avoid the least word that night reveal mypossession of her secret. Nothing must deny her the happiness ofseeing me completely amazed on Christmas day.4.In the privacy of my bedroom I began composing and testingexclamations of delight: “Wow!” “A bike with ballo on tires! I don't believe it!” “I'm the luckiest boy alive!” And so on. They all owed a lot to movies in which boys like Mickey Rooney had seen their wildest dreams come true. I soon realized that, with my lack of acting talent, all of them were going to sound false at the critical moment when I wanted to cry out my love spontaneously from the heart. Maybe it would be better to say nothing but appear to be shocked into such deep pleasure that speech had escaped me/ I wasn't sure, though. I'd seen speechless gratitude in the movies too, and it never really worked until the actors managed to cry a few quiet tears. I doubted I could cry on cue, so I began thinking about other expressions of speechlessamazement. In front of a hand-held mirror in my bedroom I tried the whole range of expressions; mouth open and eyes wide; hands slapped firmly against both cheeks to keep the jaw from falling off; ear-to-ear grin with all teeth fully exposed while hugging myself with both arms.These and more I practiced for several days without acquiringconfidence in any of them. I decided to wait until Christmas morning and see if anything came naturally...5.That Christmas morning she woke up early, “to see what SantaClaus brought,” she said with just the right tone of voice to indicate we were all old enough to know who Santa Claus was. I came out of my bedroom with my present for her and Doris, and Doris came with hers. My mother's has been placed under the tree during the night.There were a few small brightly wrapped packages, a big doll forDoris, but no bicycle. I must have looked disappointed.6.“It looks like Santa Claus didn't do too well by you this year,Buddy,” she said, as I opened packages. A shirt. A necktie. I said。

1.The dinner partyI first heard this tale in India, where is told as if true -- though any naturalist would know it couldn't be. Later someone told me that the story appeared in a magazine shortly before the First World War. That magazine story, and the person who wrote it, I have never been able to track down.The country is India. A colonial official and his wife are giving a large dinner party. They are seated with their guests -- officers and their wives, and a visiting American naturalist -- in their spacious dining room, which has a bare marble floor, open rafters and wide glass doors opening onto a veranda.A spirited discussion springs up between a young girl who says that women have outgrown the jumping-on-a-chair-at-the-sight-of-a-mouse era and a major who says that they haven't."A woman's reaction in any crisis," the major says, "is to scream. And while a man may feel like it, he has that ounce more of control than a woman has. And that last ounce is what really counts."The American does not join in the argument but watches the other guests. As he looks, he sees a strange expression come over the face of the hostess. She is staring straight ahead, her muscles contracting slightly. She motions to the native boy standing behind her chair and whispers something to him. The boy's eyes widen: he quickly leaves the room.Of the guests, none except the American notices this or sees the boy place a bowl of milk on the veranda just outside the open doors.The American comes to with a start. In India, milk in a bowl means only one thing -- bait for a snake. He realizes there must be a cobra in the room. He looks up at the rafters -- the likeliest place -- but they are bare. Three corners of the room are empty, and in the fourth the servants are waiting to serve the next course. There is only one place left -- under the table.His first impulse is to jump back and warn the others, but he knows the commotion would frighten the cobra into striking. He speaks quickly, the tone of his voice so commanding that it silences everyone."I want to know just what control everyone at this table has. I will count three hundred -- that's five minutes -- and not one of you is to move a muscle. Those who move will forfeit 50 rupees. Ready?"The 20 people sit like stone images while he counts. He is saying "...two hundred and eighty..." when, out of the corner of his eye, he sees the cobra emerge and make for the bowl of milk. Screams ring out as he jumps to slam the veranda doors safely shut."You were right, Major!" the host exclaims. "A man has just shown us an example of perfect self-control.""Just a minute," the American says, turning to his hostess. "Mrs. Wynnes, how did you know that cobra was in the room?"A faint smile lights up the woman's face as she replies: "Because it was crawling across my foot."UNIT 2-1一场关于男人是否比女人勇敢的激烈的讨论以一个意外的方式。

大学英语精读（预备级）第三版课后翻译（1-16课）绿色翻译1.这个小男孩最喜欢做的事就是搭积木。

What the boy likes to do most is putting together building block. 2.就先前的工作经验而言，约翰是这个职位的最佳候选人。

In terms of previous working experience john is the best choice for this position. 3.我的物理老师经常使用类比来说明一些较难理解的概念。

My physics teacher often uses analogy to explain some difficult concepts. 4.在家人和朋友的帮助下，汤姆经营店出版企业逐渐兴旺起来。

With the help of his family and friends ,Tom build up his publishing bussiness bit by bit. 5.琳达没能进入那所著名的大学，但他打算重新开始,而不是逃避挑战。

Linda was not able to go to that famous college but she planned to start all over again ratherthan give up the challenge.6. 这个公司有着很好的公众形象，人们总是将他的产品与高质量和优质服务联系在一起。

This company has a good public image. People always associate its product with high quality and good service.1.孩子们很苦恼，因为他们的家长不允许他们在铁道旁玩耍。

The children are pretty annoyed that their parent won ’t allow them to play around the railway track.2.我打赌我只要速度快一点，肯定会比他们先到目的地。

精心整理 Book3Unit1使某人突然意识到1.ItoccurstosbthatItstrikestosbthatItoccursonsbthatItoccurstosbtodosth破晓；（逐渐被人）明白2.dawnon认同危机3.identitycrisis经历4.gothrough5.chanceevent偶然事件轮流；反过来6.inturn独立于7.beindependentfrom依赖于8.bedependenton分开9.separationfrom患得患失10.fearloss把……定义为definesthas11.免于……不受……约束befreedomfrom12.往后站；处在离……较远的地方；不介入standback13.情绪低落14.feellowerorhigher……than……否定+比较级=最高级15.nothingbounceinto 突然闯进；蹦进；胁迫sb做16.爱上sb17.havearomanticrelationshipwith18.无精打采的走’sfeetdragonerelateto有良好关系19.cometorealize逐渐意识到20.为sb做榜样modelfor=makeanexampleforsb21.反抗rebelagainst22.对……有偏见beprejudicedagainst23.beequalto相同；等同24.inadditionto除了25.任命；委派appointtoposition26.inadifferentlight=inadifferentway以另一种不同的观点来看27.forcertain确定地，肯定地28.促成contributeto29.观察30.observev.观察力observationn.善于观察的observantn.触摸；控制；处理handlev.31.applyv.申请；应用；适用于；敷，涂32.需要，包括，影响，involvev.33.牵涉；包含involvesborsthinvolvedoingsth包含把sb卷入sthinvolvesbinsth被卷入beinvolvedinsthinvolveda.复杂的牵扯；财政困难 involvementn.边境问题borderissuen.34.解决争端settledispute35.传输气体transportgasfromsth 36.处理；照顾seetoit37.危险期criticalcondition 38.搁置；不考虑leaveitaside39.未能/忘记带… leavesb/sthbehind停止leaveoff不再穿某物leavesth.off忽略；不提及leaveitout推迟某事leavesthover40.调查lookat=lookinto仰视；改善lookup查阅（字典，参考书中） looksthup看望或接触sblooksbup计划未来lookahead瞧不起lookdownupon…as把……视为lookupon开始精力充沛的做sth41.setto开始做sth setaboutdoingsetouttodo开始做sth陈述sthsetoutsthsentout派遣42.becontentwith知足的43.摆脱befreefrom44.interactwith与……相互作用45.Translation1.她打算申请那个学术工作。

第一课大学时代鲍勃K哈特曼1.你可曾考虑过作为一个大学生你生活中正在发生和即将发生的变化？你可曾想到过大学时代教授们以及其他教职工为了你的成长和发展制定了目标？你可曾注意过你在从青少年渐渐成人的过程中会发生某些变化？尽管大学生很少想这些，但是在大学生时代很可能会发生一些主要的变化。

2.在这段时期，学生们正经受自我认同危机，他们努力要了解自己的身份，掌握自身的优缺点。

当然，优缺点他们兼而有之，且两者都为数不少。

重要的是人们如何看待自己，其他人又如何看待他们。

皮尔斯和兰多曾在一篇文章中探讨了爱立信在《国际社会百科全书》中有关理论，根据他们的观点，性格特征是由先天基因（即父母的遗传物质）所决定，由外部环境而形成，并受偶然事件的影响的。

人们受环境的影响，反过来也影响他们的环境。

人们如何看待自己扮演的这两个角色无疑正是他们性格特征的部分表现。

3.学生们经历自我认同危机的时候，他们也开始渐渐独立，但是可能仍然非常依赖父母。

这种介于独立与依赖之间的冲突常常发生在青少年末期。

事实上，这种冲突很可能因为他们选择继续接受大学教育而愈发激烈。

高中一毕业，一些学生便会立即走入社会开始工作。

这种选择的结果就是他们可能他们在经济上获得独立。

但是大学生已经选择了用几年的时间继续掌握新知并且发展自我，因此他们在一定程度上还要依赖父母。

4.1984年4月杰利弗K A K霍夫曼在《心理咨询杂志》上发表了《即将成人的青年与父母的心理距离》，文章中他提及了人与父母产生心理距离的四个不同方面。

第一，独立处理日常生活的能力，它包括个人独立处理实际事物和自身事务的能力，如理财的能力、选购服装的能力和决定每天工作日程的能力。

第二，态度独立，即个人学会正确看待和接受自己与父母的态度、价值和信仰上的差异。

第三个心理分离过程是情感独立，霍夫曼将这一过程定义为“摆脱父母的认可、亲近、陪伴和情感支持的过分依赖”。

例如，大学生们会随自己所愿自由选择专业，而且并不认为必须征得父母的认同。

大学英语精读第3册第6课课文翻译及课后答案一天的等待他走进我们房间关窗户的时候，我们还未起床。

我见他一副病容，全身哆嗦，脸色苍白，步履缓慢，好像一动就会引起疼痛。

“你怎么啦，宝贝？”“我头痛。

”“你最好回床上去睡。

”“不，我没啥病。

”“你先去睡。

我穿好衣服来看你。

”可是当我来到楼下时，他已穿好衣服，坐在火炉旁。

这个9岁的男孩，看上去病得厉害，一副可怜的模样。

我用手摸了摸他的额头，知道他发烧了。

“你到楼上去睡，”我说，“你病了。

”“我没有病，”他说。

医生来后，量了孩子的体温。

“多少度？”我问医生。

“102度。

”下楼后，医生留下用不同颜色胶囊包装的三种药丸，并嘱咐如何服用。

一种药退烧，另一种润肠、通便，还有一种是去酸。

他解释说，流感细菌只能在酸性环境中生存。

他似乎对流感很内行，并说，如果发烧不超过104度，就用不着担心。

这是轻度流感，只要当心不引起肺炎，就无危险。

我田到房里，记下孩子的体温，并记下各种胶囊的服用时间。

“要不要让我读，点书给你听？”“好的，如果你想读的话，”孩子说。

他的脸色十分苍白，眼窝下方有黑晕。

他躺在床上一动不动，对周围发生的一切漠然置之。

我朗读霍华德·派尔的《海盗故事》，但我看得出他并不在听。

“你感觉怎么样，宝贝？”我问他。

“到目前为止，还是老样子，”他说。

我坐在床的脚端自个儿看书，等着到时间再给他服一粒药丸。

按理，他本该睡着了。

然而，当我抬头看时，他却双眼盯着床的脚端，神情异常。

“你为什么不睡一会儿呢？到吃药时，我会叫醒你的。

”“我宁愿醒着。

”过了一会儿，他对我说：“你不必呆在这里陪我，爸爸，要是这事令你烦恼的话。

”“没有什么可烦恼的。

”“不，我是说，要是这事终将给你带来烦恼的话，你就不必呆在这里。

”我想，或许他有，点儿神志不清了。

11点钟，照规定给他服药后，我便出去了一会儿。

那是个晴朗而又寒冷的日子，地上覆盖着一层已结成冰的冻雨，就像那光秃秃的树木，那灌木丛，那砍下的树枝，以及所有的草坪和空地都用冰漆过似的。

Unit 1Active reading 1抓螃蟹大学最后一年的秋天，我们的心情变了。

刚刚过去的夏季学期的轻松氛围、即兴球赛、查尔斯河上的泛舟以及深夜晚会都不见了踪影，我们开始埋头学习，苦读到深夜，课堂出勤率再次急剧上升。

我们都觉得在校时间不多了，以后再也不会有这样的学习机会了，所以都下定决心不再虚度光阴。

当然，下一年四五月份的期末考试最为重要。

我们谁都不想考全班倒数第一，那也太丢人了，因此同学们之间的竞争压力特别大。

以前每天下午五点以后，图书馆就空无一人了，现在却要等到天快亮时才会有空座，小伙子们熬夜熬出了眼袋，他们脸色苍白，睡眼惺忪，却很自豪，好像这些都是表彰他们勤奋好学的奖章。

还有别的事情让大家心情焦虑。

每个人都在心里盘算着过几个月毕业离校之后该找份什么样的工作。

并不总是那些心怀抱负、成绩拔尖的高材生才清楚自己将来要做什么，常常是那些平日里默默无闻的同学早早为自己下几个阶段的人生做好了规划。

有位同学在位于麦迪逊大道他哥哥的广告公司得到了一份工作，另一位同学写的电影脚本已经与好莱坞草签了合约。

我们当中野心最大的一位同学准备到地方上当一个政党活动家，我们都预料他最终会当上参议员或国会议员。

但大多数同学不是准备继续深造，就是想在银行、地方政府或其他单位当个白领，希望在20 出头的时候能挣到足够多的薪水，过上舒适的生活，然后就娶妻生子，贷款买房，期望升职，过安稳日子。

感恩节的时候我回了一趟家，兄弟姐妹们免不了不停地问我毕业后有什么打算，我不知道该说什么。

实际上，我知道该说什么，但我怕他们批评我，所以只对他们说了别人都准备干什么。

父亲看着我，什么也没说。

夜深时，他叫我去他的书房。

我们坐了下来，他给我们俩各倒了杯饮料。

“怎么样？”他问。

“啊，什么怎么样？”“你毕业后到底想做什么？”他问道。

父亲是一名律师，我一直都认为他想让我去法学院深造，追随他的人生足迹，所以我有点儿犹豫。

过了会儿我回答说：“我想旅行，我想当个作家。

1.The dinner partyI first heard this tale in Ind ia, where is to ld as if true -- tho ug h any naturalistwould know it couldn't be. Later som eone told m e that the story appeared in a magazine shortly before the First World War. That magazine story, and the person who wrote it, I have never been able to track down.The country is Ind ia. A colonial official and his wife are g iving a larg e d innerp arty. They are seated with their g uests -- o fficers and their wives, and a visitingAm e rican n atu ralist -- in the ir sp acio u s d in in g ro o m, which has a b are m arb le flo o r,open rafters and wide glass doors opening onto a veranda.A sp irited d iscussio n sp ring s up b etween a yo ung g irl who says that wo m enhave outgrown the jumping-on-a-chair-at-the-sight-of-a-mouse era and a major who says that they haven't."A wo m an's reactio n in any crisis," the m ajo r says, "is to scream. And while am an m ay fe e l like it, h e h as th at o u n ce m o re o f co n tro l th an a wo m an h as. An d th atlast ounce is what really counts."The American does not join in the argument but watches the other guests. As he looks, he sees a strang e exp ression com e over the face of the hostess. She isstaring straight ahead, her muscles contracting slightly. She motions to the native boy standing behind her chair and whispers something to him. The boy's e ye s widen: he quickly leaves the room.Of the g uests, no ne excep t the Am erican no tices this o r sees the b o y p lace abowl of milk on the veranda just outside the open doors.The Am erican com es to with a start. In Ind ia, m ilk in a b owl m eans only onething -- b ait fo r a snake. He realizes there m ust b e a co b ra in the ro o m. He lo o ksup at the rafters -- the likeliest place -- but they are bare. Three corners of thero o m are e m p ty, an d in th e fo u rth th e se rvan ts are waitin g to se rve th e n e xt co u rse.There is only one place left -- under the table.His first impulse is to jump b ack and warn the others, but he knows the commotion would frighten the cobra into striking. He speaks quickly, the tone of his voice so commanding that it silences everyone."I want to know just what control everyone at this table has. I will count three hund red -- that's five m inutes -- and not one of you is to m ove a m uscle. Thosewho move will forfeit 50 rupees. Ready?"The 20 people sit like stone images while he counts. He is saying "...two h u n d re d an d e ig h ty..." wh e n, o u t o f th e co rn e r o f h is e ye, h e se e s th e co b ra e m e rg eand make for the bowl of milk. Screams ring out as he jumps to slam the veranda doors safely shut."Yo u we re right, Major!" the host exclaims. "A man has just shown us an example of perfect self-control.""Just a minute," the American says, turning to his hostess. "Mrs. Wynnes, how did you know that cobra was in the room?"A faint smile lights up the wo m a n's face as she replies: "Because it was crawling across my foot."UNIT 2-1一场关于男人是否比女人勇敢的激烈的讨论以一个意外的方式。

大学英语精读‎第3册第3课课文翻译及课‎后答案Unit 3我为什么当老‎师你为什么要教‎书呢？当我告诉一位‎朋友我不想谋‎求行政职务时‎，他便向我提出‎这一问题。

所有美国人受‎的教育是长大‎成人后应该追‎求金钱和权力‎，而我却偏偏不‎选择明明是朝‎这个目标“迈进”的工作，他们对此感到‎迷惑不解。

当然，我之所以教书‎并不是因为我‎觉得教书轻松‎。

我做过各种各‎样的工作借以‎谋生：机修工、木工、作家，教书可是其中‎最难的一行。

对我来说，教书是个会令‎人熬红眼睛、掌心出汗、精神沮丧的职‎业。

说熬红眼睛,这是因为我晚‎上不管备课到‎多晚,总觉得准备得‎还不充分。

说掌心出汗，是因为我跨进‎教室之前总是‎非常紧张，自信学生一定‎会发觉我其实‎是个傻瓜笨蛋‎。

说精神沮丧，这是因为我1‎小时后走出教‎室时，确信这堂课上‎得比平常还要‎平淡无味。

我之所以教书‎，也不是因为我‎认为自己能够‎解答问题，或者因为我有‎满腹学问，非与别人分享‎不可。

有时我感到很‎吃惊，学生竟真的把‎我课上讲的东‎西做了笔记！这样说来，我为什么还要‎教书呢？我教书，是因为我喜爱‎校历的步调。

6月、7月和8月提‎供了一个供思‎考、研究和创作的‎机会。

我教书，是因为教学是‎建立在“变化”这一基础上的‎职业。

教材还是原来‎的教材，但我自身却变‎了——更重要的是，我的学生变了‎。

我教书，是因为我喜欢‎有让自己犯错‎误的自由，有自己吸取教‎训的自由，有激励自己和‎激励学生的自‎由。

作为教师，我可以自行做‎主。

如果我想要求‎一年级的学生‎通过自行编写‎课本的办法来‎学习写作，谁能说我不可‎以那样做呢？这样的课程也‎许会彻底失败‎，但我们都可以‎从失败的尝试‎中获得教益。

我教书，是因为我喜欢‎学生提出必须‎绞尽脑汁才能‎回答的问题。

我们这个世界‎有无穷无尽的‎正确答案来对‎付拙劣的问题‎。

何况我在教学‎过程有时也会‎想到一些出色‎的问题。

我教书，是因为我喜欢‎想方设法使自‎己和我的学生‎从象牙塔里走‎出来，进入现实世界‎。