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课文翻译Unit 1TextA young man finds that strolling along the streets without an obvious purpose can lead to trouble with the law. One misunderstanding leads to another until eventually he must appear in court for trial……一个青年发现，在大街上毫无明显目的地游逛会招致警方的责罚。
误会一个接一个发生，最终他只得出庭受审……A Brush with the Law与警察的一场小冲突I have only once been in trouble with the law. 我平生只有一次跟警方发生纠葛。
The whole process of being arrested and taken to court was a rather unpleasant experience at the time, but it makes a good story now. 被捕和出庭的整个过程在当时是一件非常不愉快的事，但现在倒成了一篇很好的故事。
What makes it rather disturbing was the arbitrary circumstances both of my arrest and my subsequent fate in court. 这次经历令人可恼之处在于围绕着我的被捕以及随后庭上审讯而出现的种种武断专横的情况。
It happened in February about twelve years ago. 事情发生在大约12年前，其时正是2月。
I had left school a couple of months before that and was not due to go touniversity until the following October. 几个月前我中学毕业了，但上大学要等到10月。
大学英语精读第三版第四册课文及课文翻译Unit 1TextTwo college-age boys, unaware that making money usually involves hard work, are tempted by an advertisement that promises them an easy way to earn a lot of money. The boys soon learn that if something seems to good to be true, it probably is.BIG BUCKS THE EASY W AYJohn G. Hubbell"You ought to look into this," I suggested to our two college-age sons. "It might be a way to avoid the indignity of having to ask for money all the time." I handed them some magazines in a plastic bag someone bad hung on our doorknob. A message printed on the bag offered leisurely, lucrative work ("Big Bucks the Easy Way!") of delivering more such bags."I don't mind the indignity," the older one answered."I can live with it," his brother agreed."But it pains me," I said，"to find that you both have been panhandling so long that it no longer embarrasses you."The boys said they would look into the magazine-delivery thing. Pleased, I left town on a business trip. By midnight I was comfortably settled in a hotel room far from home. The phone rang. It was my wife. She wanted to know how my day had gone."Great!" I enthused. "How was your day?" I inquired."Super!" She snapped. "Just super! And it's only getting started. Another truck just pulled up out front.""Another truck?""The third one this evening. The first delivered four thousand Montgomery Wards. The second brought four thousand Sears, Roebucks. I don't know what this one has, but I'm sure it will be four thousand of something. Since you are responsible, I thought you might like to know what's happening.What I was being blamed for, it turned out, was a newspaper strike which made it necessary to hand-deliver the advertising inserts that normally are included with the Sunday paper. The company had promised our boys $600 for delivering these inserts to 4,000 houses by Sunday morning."Piece of cake!" our older college son had shouted." Six hundred bucks!" His brother had echoed, "And we can do the job in two hours!""Both the Sears and Ward ads are four newspaper-size pages," my wife informed me. "There are thirty-two thousand pages of advertising on our porch. Even as we speak, two big guys are carrying armloads of paper up the walk. What do we do about all this?""Just tell the boys to get busy," I instructed. "They're college men. They'll do what they have to do."At noon the following day I returned to the hotel and found an urgent message to telephone my wife. Her voice was unnaturally high and quavering. There had been several more truckloads of ad inserts. "They're for department stores, dime stores, drugstores, grocery stores, auto stores and so on. Some are whole magazine sections. We have hundreds of thousands, maybe millions, of pages of advertising here! They are crammed wall-to-wall all through the house in stacks taller than your oldest son. There's only enough room for people to walk in, take one each of the eleveninserts, roll them together, slip a rubber band around them and slide them into a plastic bag. We have enough plastic bags to supply every takeout restaurant in America!" Her voice kept rising, as if working its way out of the range of the human ear. "All this must be delivered by seven o'clock Sunday morning.""Well, you had better get those guys banding and sliding as fast as they can, and I'll talk to you later. Got a lunch date.When I returned, there was another urgent call from my wife."Did you have a nice lunch?" she asked sweetly. I had had a marvelous steak, but knew better by now than to say so."Awful," I reported. "Some sort of sour fish. Eel, I think.""Good. Your college sons have hired their younger brothers and sisters and a couple of neighborhood children to help for five dollars each. Assembly lines have been set up. In the language of diplomacy, there is 'movement.'""That's encouraging.""No, it's not," she corrected. "It's very discouraging. They're been as it for hours. Plastic bags have been filled and piled to the ceiling, but all this hasn't made a dent, not a dent, in the situation! It's almost as if the inserts keep reproducing themselves!""Another thing," she continued. "Your college sons must learn that one does not get the best out of employees by threatening them with bodily harm.Obtaining an audience with son NO. 1, I snarled, "I'll kill you if threaten one of those kids again! Idiot! You should be offering a bonus of a dollar every hour to the worker who fills the most bags."But that would cut into our profit," he suggested."There won't be any profit unless those kids enable you to make all the deliveries on time. If they don't, you two will have to remove all that paper by yourselves. And there will be no eating or sleeping until it is removed."There was a short, thoughtful silence. Then he said, "Dad, you have just worked a profound change in my personality.""Do it!""Yes, sir!"By the following evening, there was much for my wife to report. The bonus program had worked until someone demanded to see the color of cash. Then some activist on the work force claimed that the workers had no business settling for $5 and a few competitive bonuses while the bossed collected hundreds of dollars each. The organizer had declared that all the workers were entitled to $5 per hour! They would not work another minute until the bosses agreed.The strike lasted less than two hours. In mediation, the parties agreed on $2 per hour. Gradually, the huge stacks began to shrink.As it turned out, the job was completed three hours before Sunday's 7 a.m. deadline. By the time I arrived home, the boys had already settled their accounts: $150 in labor costs, $40 for gasoline, and a like amountfor gifts—boxes of candy for saintly neighbors who had volunteered station wagons and help in delivery and dozen roses for their mother. This left them with $185 each — about two-thirds the minimum wage for the 91 hours they worked. Still, it was "enough", as one of them put it, to enable them to "avoid indignity" for quite a while.All went well for some weeks. Then one Saturday morning my attention was drawn to the odd goings-on of our two youngest sons. They kept carrying carton after carton from various corners of the house out the front door to curbside. I assumed their mother had enlisted them to remove junk for a trash pickup. Then I overheard them discussing finances."Geez, we're going to make a lot of money!""We're going to be rich!"Investigation revealed that they were offering " for sale or rent" our entire library."No! No!" I cried. "You can't sell our books!""Geez, Dad, we thought you were done with them!""You're never 'done' with books," I tried to explain."Sure you are. You read them, and you're done with them. That's it. Then you might as well make a little money from them. We wanted to avoid the indignity of having to ask you for……"一个大学男孩，不清楚赚钱需要付出艰苦的劳动，被一份许诺轻松赚大钱的广告吸引了。
大学英语精读第三版第二册Unit 1The dinner party 晚宴I first heard this tale in India, where is told as if tru e -- though any naturalist would know it couldn't be. Later someone told me that the story appeared in a magazine sho rtly before the First World War. That magazine story, and t he person who wrote it, I have never been able to track d own.我最初听到这个故事是在印度，那儿的人们今天讲起它来仍好像实有其事似的——尽管任何一位博物学家都知道这不可能是真的。
后来有人告诉我，在第一次世界大战之后不久就出现在一本杂志上。
但登在杂志上的那篇故事, 以及写那篇故事的人，我却一直未能找到。
The country is India. A colonial official and his wife are giving a large dinner party. They are seated with their g uests -- officers and their wives, and a visiting American naturalist -- in their spacious dining room, which has a ba re marble floor, open rafters and wide glass doors opening onto a veranda.故事发生在印度。
某殖民官员和他的夫人举行盛行的晚宴。
跟他们一起就座的客人有——军官和他人的夫人，另外还有一位来访的美国博物学家——筵席设在他们家宽敞的餐室里，室内大理石地板上没有铺地毯；屋顶明椽裸露；宽大的玻璃门外便是阳台。
![[实用参考]大学英语精读第三版第四册课文及课文翻译](https://img.taocdn.com/s1/m/f9282e2f02020740be1e9b3c.png)
Unit1Twocollege-ageboPs,unawarethatmakingmonePusuallPinvolveshardwork,aretemptedbPanadvertis ementthatpromisesthemaneasPwaPtoearnalotofmoneP.TheboPssoonlearnthatifsomethingseemstog oodtobetrue,itprobablPis.一个大学男孩，不清楚赚钱需要付出艰苦的劳动，被一份许诺轻松赚大钱的广告吸引了。
男孩们很快就明白，如果事情看起来好得不像真的，那多半确实不是真的。
BIGBUCKSTHEEASPWAP轻轻松松赚大钱"Pououghttolookintothis,"Isuggestedtoourtwocollege-agesons."ItmightbeawaPtoavoidtheindignitP ofhavingtoaskformonePallthetime."Ihandedthemsomemagazinesinaplasticbagsomeonebadhungon ourdoorknob.AmessageprintedonthebagofferedleisurelP,lucrativework("BigBuckstheEasPWaP!")o fdeliveringmoresuchbags.“你们该看看这个，”我向我们的两个读大学的儿子建议道。
“你们若想避免因为老是向人讨钱而有失尊严的话，这兴许是一种办法。
”我将挂在我们门把手上的、装在一个塑料袋里的几本杂志拿给他们。
塑料袋上印着一条信息说，需要招聘人投递这样的袋子，这活儿既轻松又赚钱。
（“轻轻松松赚大钱!”）"Idon'tmindtheindignitP,"theolderoneanswered.“我不在乎失不失尊严，”大儿子回答说。
UNIT 1课文翻译一位青年男子发现,漫无目的的逛街也会惹官司。
误会一场接一场，直到最终他必须出庭受审……法律小冲突我平生就一次陷入法律困境。
当时被捕并被传上法院的全过程是件相当不愉快的经历，但现在可用此编个好故事。
让人非常烦恼的是我被抓和接着在法庭的命运中那些主观武断的情景。
此事大约发生在十二年前的二月份。
那里我已中学毕业了几个月，并要等到该年十月份才能上大学。
那段时间，我仍住在家中。
一天早晨，我去了里士满，那是离我的地址不远的伦敦郊区。
我正在找一份临时工作以便攒点钱去旅行。
由于天气晴朗，且无急事，我便悠闲自得地看看商店橱窗，逛逛公园，甚至有时只是呆站着到处观望。
很可能是这种明显的无所事事的样子导致了我的不幸。
事情发生的时间是大约十一点半。
我正从地方图书馆走出来，本想在那里找一份工作而一无所获。
此时看到一位男士从街对面走来，显然打算和我讲话。
我猜想他是向我问时间。
然而，他说他是警官并要逮捕我。
起初，我想这是在开玩笑，但接着又来了一位警察，并穿着警服。
我便深信不疑了。
“但为什么呢？”我问。
“到处遛达，有作案嫌疑。
”他说。
“作什么案？”我问。
“偷窃，”他说。
“偷什么？”我问。
“牛奶瓶，”他说，还做出非常严肃的样子！“噢，”我说。
事情的缘由是那一带有许多小窃贼，特别是有从门前台阶上盗奶瓶的小偷。
接着，我犯了一个大错误。
那时我正十九岁，头发长而蓬乱，并把自己当作六十年代“逆文化年轻人”的一员。
因此，我装着一副冷漠的毫不在乎的样子。
所以我说“你们跟踪我多久啦？”说话的腔调尽量装出无所谓有样子，就象随便谈话一样。
于是在他们看来我是十分熟悉此类事情，这使他们更加坚信我彻头彻尾是个名声不好的人。
几分钟后，一辆警车来了。
“坐到后排去，”他们说：“把手放在前排椅背上，不要挪动。
”他俩坐在我的两边。
这倒不是开玩笑的。
在警察局他们审问了我几个小时。
我继续尽力做出深谙世故并对此事习以为常的样子。
当他们问我一直在干什么时，我告诉他们我一直在找工作。
Two college-age boys, unaware that making money usually involves hard w ork, are tempted by an advertisement that promises them an easy way to earn a lot of money。
The boys soon learn that if something seems to good to be true， it probably is。
两个上大学的男孩,不知道通常涉及努力工作赚钱，是受到广告的诱惑,承诺他们一个简单的方法来赚一大笔钱。
男孩们很快发现如果似乎好得让人难以置信的东西,它可能是。
BIG BUCKS THE EASY WAY"You ought to look into this，" I suggested to our two college-age sons. "It might be a w ay to avoid the indignity of having to ask for money all th e time。
”I handed them some magazines in a plastic bag som eone bad hung on our doorknob. A message printed on the bag offered leisurely, lucrative work ("Big Bucks the Easy Way!”) of delivering more such bags.“你应该看看这个，”我建议我们两个上大学的儿子.“这可能是一种避免必须要钱的侮辱。
”我给了他们一些杂志在塑料袋有人坏消息挂在门把手.印在袋子里悠闲的,有利可图的工作（“大钱好走的路!”）提供更多这样的袋子.“我不介意侮辱，”年长的人回答。
大学英语精读第三版第四册课文及课文翻译Unit 1TextTwo college-age boys, unaware that making money usually involves hard work, are tempted by an advertisement that promises them an easy way to earn a lot of money. The boys soon learn that if something seems to good to be true, it probably is.BIG BUCKS THE EASY W AYJohn G. Hubbell"You ought to look into this," I suggested to our two college-age sons. "It might be a way to avoid the indignity of having to ask for money all the time." I handed them some magazines in a plastic bag someone bad hung on our doorknob. A message printed on the bag offered leisurely, lucrative work ("Big Bucks the Easy Way!") of delivering more such bags."I don't mind the indignity," the older one answered."I can live with it," his brother agreed."But it pains me," I said，"to find that you both have been panhandling so long that it no longer embarrasses you."The boys said they would look into the magazine-delivery thing. Pleased, I left town on a business trip. By midnight I was comfortably settled in a hotel room far from home. The phone rang. It was my wife. She wanted to know how my day had gone."Great!" I enthused. "How was your day?" I inquired."Super!" She snapped. "Just super! And it's only getting started. Another truck just pulled up out front.""Another truck?""The third one this evening. The first delivered four thousand Montgomery Wards. The second brought four thousand Sears, Roebucks. I don't know what this one has, but I'm sure it will be four thousand of something. Since you are responsible, I thought you might like to know what's happening.What I was being blamed for, it turned out, was a newspaper strike which made it necessary to hand-deliver the advertising inserts that normally are included with the Sunday paper. The company had promised our boys $600 for delivering these inserts to 4,000 houses by Sunday morning."Piece of cake!" our older college son had shouted." Six hundred bucks!" His brother had echoed, "And we can do the job in two hours!""Both the Sears and Ward ads are four newspaper-size pages," my wife informed me. "There are thirty-two thousand pages of advertising on our porch. Even as we speak, two big guys are carrying armloads of paper up the walk. What do we do about all this?""Just tell the boys to get busy," I instructed. "They're college men. They'll do what they have to do."At noon the following day I returned to the hotel and found an urgent message to telephone my wife. Her voice was unnaturally high and quavering. There had been several more truckloads of ad inserts. "They're for department stores, dime stores, drugstores, grocery stores, auto stores and so on. Some are whole magazine sections. We have hundreds of thousands, maybe millions, of pages of advertising here! They are crammed wall-to-wall all through the house in stacks taller than your oldest son. There's only enough room for people to walk in, take one each of the eleveninserts, roll them together, slip a rubber band around them and slide them into a plastic bag. We have enough plastic bags to supply every takeout restaurant in America!" Her voice kept rising, as if working its way out of the range of the human ear. "All this must be delivered by seven o'clock Sunday morning.""Well, you had better get those guys banding and sliding as fast as they can, and I'll talk to you later. Got a lunch date.When I returned, there was another urgent call from my wife."Did you have a nice lunch?" she asked sweetly. I had had a marvelous steak, but knew better by now than to say so."Awful," I reported. "Some sort of sour fish. Eel, I think.""Good. Your college sons have hired their younger brothers and sisters and a couple of neighborhood children to help for five dollars each. Assembly lines have been set up. In the language of diplomacy, there is 'movement.'""That's encouraging.""No, it's not," she corrected. "It's very discouraging. They're been as it for hours. Plastic bags have been filled and piled to the ceiling, but all this hasn't made a dent, not a dent, in the situation! It's almost as if the inserts keep reproducing themselves!""Another thing," she continued. "Your college sons must learn that one does not get the best out of employees by threatening them with bodily harm.Obtaining an audience with son NO. 1, I snarled, "I'll kill you if threaten one of those kids again! Idiot! You should be offering a bonus of a dollar every hour to the worker who fills the most bags."But that would cut into our profit," he suggested."There won't be any profit unless those kids enable you to make all the deliveries on time. If they don't, you two will have to remove all that paper by yourselves. And there will be no eating or sleeping until it is removed."There was a short, thoughtful silence. Then he said, "Dad, you have just worked a profound change in my personality.""Do it!""Yes, sir!"By the following evening, there was much for my wife to report. The bonus program had worked until someone demanded to see the color of cash. Then some activist on the work force claimed that the workers had no business settling for $5 and a few competitive bonuses while the bossed collected hundreds of dollars each. The organizer had declared that all the workers were entitled to $5 per hour! They would not work another minute until the bosses agreed.The strike lasted less than two hours. In mediation, the parties agreed on $2 per hour. Gradually, the huge stacks began to shrink.As it turned out, the job was completed three hours before Sunday's 7 a.m. deadline. By the time I arrived home, the boys had already settled their accounts: $150 in labor costs, $40 for gasoline, and a like amountfor gifts—boxes of candy for saintly neighbors who had volunteered station wagons and help in delivery and dozen roses for their mother. This left them with $185 each — about two-thirds the minimum wage for the 91 hours they worked. Still, it was "enough", as one of them put it, to enable them to "avoid indignity" for quite a while.All went well for some weeks. Then one Saturday morning my attention was drawn to the odd goings-on of our two youngest sons. They kept carrying carton after carton from various corners of the house out the front door to curbside. I assumed their mother had enlisted them to remove junk for a trash pickup. Then I overheard them discussing finances."Geez, we're going to make a lot of money!""We're going to be rich!"Investigation revealed that they were offering " for sale or rent" our entire library."No! No!" I cried. "You can't sell our books!""Geez, Dad, we thought you were done with them!""You're never 'done' with books," I tried to explain."Sure you are. You read them, and you're done with them. That's it. Then you might as well make a little money from them. We wanted to avoid the indignity of having to ask you for……"一个大学男孩，不清楚赚钱需要付出艰苦的劳动，被一份许诺轻松赚大钱的广告吸引了。
现代大学英语精读3D i o g e n e s a n dA l e x a n d e r原文-CAL-FENGHAI.-(YICAI)-Company One1Diogenes and Alexander Lying on the bare earth, shoeless, bearded, half-naked, he looked like a beggar or a lunatic(神经病,疯子). He was one, but not the other. He had opened his eyes with the sun at dawn (拂晓), scratched, done his business like a dog at the roadside, washed at the public fountain, begged a piece of breakfast bread and a few olives, eaten them squatting on the ground, and washed them down with a few handfuls of water scooped from the spring. (Long ago he had owned a rough wooden cup, but he threw it away when he saw a boy drinking out of his hollowed hands.) Having no work to go to and no family to provide for, he was free. As the market place filled up with shoppers and merchants and slaves and foreigners, he had strolled through it for an hour or two. Everybody knew him, or knew of him. They would throw sharp questions at him and get sharper answers. Sometimes they threw bits of food, and got scant thanks; sometimes a mischievous pebble, and got a shower of stones and abuse(漫骂). They were not quite sure whether he was mad or not. He knew they were mad, each in a different way; they amused him. Now he was back at his home.It was not a house, not even a squatter's hut. He thought everybody lived far too elaborately, expensively, anxiously. What good is a house No one needs privacy: natural acts are not shameful; we all do the same thing, and need not hide them. No one needs beds and chairs and such furniture: the animals live healthy lives and sleep on the ground. All we require, since nature did not dress us properly, is one garment to keep us warm, and some shelter from rain and wind. So he had one blanket—to dress him in the daytime and cover him at night—and he slept in a cask. His name was Diogenes. He was the founder of the creed called Cynicism ; he spent much of his life in the rich, lazy, corrupt Greek city of Corinth, mocking and satirizing its people, and occasionally converting one of them.His home was not a barrel made of wood: too expensive. It was a storage jar made of earthenware, no doubt discarded because a break had made it useless. He was not the first to inhabit such a thing,But he was the first who ever did so by choice, out of principle.Diogenes was not a maniac(疯子). He was a philosopher who wrote plays and poems and essays expounding(解释) his doctrine; he talked to those who cared to listen; he had pupils who admired him. But he taught chiefly by example. All should live naturally, he said, for what is natural is normal and cannot possibly be evil or shameful. Live without conventions, which are artificial and false; escape complexities and extravagances: only so can you live a free life. The rich man believes he possesses his big house with its many rooms and its elaborate furniture, his expensive clothes, his horses and his servants and his bank accounts. He does not. He depends on them,he worried about them,he spends most of his energy looking after them;the thought of losing them makes him sick with anxiety.They process them,He is their slave. In order to procure a quantity of false, perishable goods hehas sold the only true, lasting good, his own independence.There have been many men who grew tired of human society with its complications, and went away to live simply—on a small farm, in a quiet village, in a hermit's cave. Not so Diogenes. He was a missionary. His life's aim was clear to him: it was "to restamp the currency “ : to take the clean metal of human life, to erase the old false conventional markings, and to imprint it with its true values.The other great philosophers of the fourth century BC,such as Plato and Aristotle, taught mainly their own private pupils.But for Diogenes, laboratory and specimens and lecture halls and pupils were all to be found in a crowd of ordinary people. Therefore, he chose to live in Athens or Corinth, where travelers from all over the Mediterranean world constantly came and went. And, by design, he publicly behaved in such ways as to show people what real life was.He thought most people were only half-alive, most men only half-men. At bright noonday he walked through the market place carrying a lighted lamp and inspecting the face of everyone he met. They asked him why. Diogenes answered, "I am trying to find a man."To a gentleman whose servant was putting on his shoes for him, Diogenes said, "You won't be really happy until he wipes your nose for you: that will come after you lose the use of your hands."Once there was a war scare so serious that it stirred even the lazy, profit-happy Corinthians. They began to drill, clean their weapons, and rebuild their neglected fortifications. Diogenes took his old cask and began to roll it up and down, back and forward. "When you are all so busy," he said, "I felt I ought to do something!"And so he lived—like a dog, some said, because he cared nothing for conventions of society, and because he showed his teeth and barked at those he disliked. Now he was lying in the sunlight, contented and happy, happier than the Shah of Persia. Although he knew he was going to have an important visitor, he would not move.The little square began to fill with people. Page boys , soldiers,secretaries, officers, diplomats, they all gradually formed a circle centered around Diogenes. He looked them over as a sober man looks at a crowd of tottering drunks, and shook his head. He knew who they were. They were the servants of Alexander, the conqueror of Greece, the Macedonian king, who was visiting his new realm.Only twenty, Alexander was far older and wiser than his years. Like all Macedonians he loved drinking, but he could usually handle it; and toward women he was nobly restrained and chivalrous. Like all Macedonians he loved fighting; he was a magnificent commander, but he was not merely a military automaton. He could think. At thirteen he had become a pupil of the greatest mind in Greece,Aristotle. who gave him the best of Greek culture. He taught Alexander poetry; the young prince slept with the Iliad under his pillow and longed to emulate Achilles, who brought the mighty power of Asia to ruin. He taught him philosophy, in particular the shapes and uses of political power and he taught him the principles of scientific research, and shipped hundreds of zoological specimens back to Greece for study. Indeed, it was from Aristotle that Alexander learned to seek out everything strange which might be instructive.Now, Alexander was in Corinth to take command of the League of Greek States which his father Philip created. He was welcomed and honored and flattered. He was the man of the hour, of the century; he was unanimously appointed commander-in-chief of a new expedition against old, rich, corrupt Asia. Nearly everyone crowded to Corinth in order to congratulate him, to seek employment with him.Only Diogenes, although he lived in Corinth, did not visit the new monarch. With that generosity which Aristotle had taught him, Alexander determined to call upon Diogenes.With his handsome face, his fiery glance, his strong supple body, his purple and gold cloak, and his air of destiny, he moved through the parting crowd, toward the Dog's kennel. When a king approaches, all rise in respect. Diogenes merely sat up on one elbow. When a monarch enters a place, all greet him with a bow or an acclamation. Diogenes said nothing.There was a silence. Alexander spoke first, with a kindly greeting. Looking at the poor broken cask, the single ragged garment, and the rough figure lying on the ground, he said, "Is there anything I can do for you, Diogenes""Yes," said the Dog. "Stand to one side. You're blocking the sunlight."There was an amazed silence. Slowly, Alexander turned away. A titter broke out from the elegant Greeks. The Macedonian officers, after deciding that Diogenes was not worth the trouble of kicking, were starting to guffaw and nudge one another. Alexander was still silent. To those nearest him he said quietly, "If I were not Alexander, I should be Diogenes." They took it as a paradox.But Alexander meant it. He understood Cynicism as the others could not.He was what Diogenes called himself, a "citizen of the world." Like Diogenes, he admired the heroic figure of Hercules, who labored to help mankind while all others toiled and sweated only for themselves. He knew that of all men then alive in the world only Alexander the conqueror and Diogenes the beggar were free.。
外教社大学英语精读第三册unit3原文+翻译+课后翻译第一篇：外教社大学英语精读第三册unit3原文+翻译+课后翻译Unit3一、课文Every teacher probably asks himself time and again: Why am I a teacher? Do the rewards of teaching outweigh the trying moments? Answering these questions is not a simple task.Let's see what the author says.也许每位教师都一再问过自己：为什么选择教书作为自己的职业？教书得到的回报是否使老师的烦恼显得不值得多谈？回答这些问题并非易事。
让我们看看本文的作者说了些什么。
Why I TeachPeter G.BeidlerWhy do you teach? My friend asked the question when I told him that I didn't want to be considered for anposition.He was puzzled that I did not want what was obviously a “" toward what all Americans are taught to want when they grow up: money and power.我为什么当教师彼得·G·贝德勒你为什么要教书呢? 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，而我却偏偏不要明明是朝这个目标“迈进”的工作，他为之大惑不解。
.Teaching is the most difficult of the various ways I have attempted to earn my living: , carpenter, writer.For me, teaching is a red-eye,-, sinking-stomach.Red-eye, because I never feel ready to teach no matter how late Ipreparing.Sweaty-palm, because I'm always nervous before I enter the classroom,.Sinking-stomach, because.当然，我之所以教书不是因为我觉得教书轻松。
Lesson Four ：Wisdom of Bear WoodMichael Welzenbach1. When I was 12 years old， my family moved to England, the fourthmajor move in my short life。
My father's government job demanded that he go overseas every few years, so I was used to wrenching myself away from friends。
2. We rented an 18th—century farmhouse in Berkshire. Nearby wereancient castles and churches。
Loving nature, however, I was most delighted by the endless patchwork of farms and woodland that surrounded our house。
In the deep woods that verged against our back fence， a network of paths led almost everywhere, and pheasants rocketed off into the dense laurels ahead as you walked。
3. I spent most of my time roaming the woods and fields alone,playing Robin Hood, daydreaming， collecting bugs andbird—watching。
It was heaven for a boy —but a lonely heaven。
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。
