外國短篇小說500字

A. 急需一個英文短篇小說 500〜800字！求快！要原創型的！

El Sordo was making his fight on a hilltop. He did not like this hill and when he saw it he thought it had the shape of a chancre. But he had had no choice except this hill and he had picked it as far away as he could see it and galloped for it, the automatic rifle heavy on his back, the horse laboring, barrel heaving between his thighs, the sack of grenades swinging against one side, the sack of automatic rifle pans banging against the other, and Joaqu璯 and Ignacio halting and firing, halting and firing to give him time to get the gun in place.
There had still been snow then, the snow that had ruined them, and when his horse was hit so that he wheezed in a slow, jerking, climbing stagger up the last part of the crest, splattering the snow with a bright, pulsing jet, Sordo had hauled him along by the bridle, the reins over his shoulder as he climbed. He climbed as hard as he could with the bullets spatting on the rocks, with the two sacks heavy on his shoulders, and then, holding the horse by the mane, had shot him quickly, expertly, and tenderly just where he had needed him, so that the horse pitched, head forward down to plug a gap between two rocks. He had gotten the gun to firing over the horse's back and he fired two pans, the gun clattering, the empty shells pitching into the snow, the smell of burnt hair from the burnt hide where the hot muzzle rested, him firing at what came up to the hill, forcing them to scatter for cover, while all the time there was a chill in his back from not knowing what was behind him. Once the last of the five men had reached the hilltop the chill went out of his back and he had saved the pans he had left until he would need them.
There were two more horses dead along the slope and three more were dead here on the hilltop. He had only succeeded in stealing three horses last night and one had bolted when they tried to mount him bareback in the corral at the camp when the first shooting had started.
Of the five men who had reached the hilltop three were wounded. Sordo was wounded in the calf of his leg and in two places in his left arm. He was very thirsty, his wounds had stiffened, and one of the wounds in his left arm was very painful. He also had a bad headache and as he lay waiting for the planes to come he thought of a joke in Spanish. It was, "_Hay que tomar la muerte como si fuera aspirina_," which means, "You will have to take death as an aspirin." But he did not make the joke aloud. He grinned somewhere inside the pain in his head and inside the nausea that came whenever he moved his arm and looked around at what there was left of his band.
The five men were spread out like the points of a five-pointed star. They had g with their knees and hands and made mounds in front of their heads and shoulders with the dirt and piles of stones. Using this cover, they were linking the indivial mounds up with stones and dirt. Joaqu璯, who was eighteen years old, had a steel helmet that he g with and he passed dirt in it.
He had gotten this helmet at the blowing up of the train. It had a bullet hole through it and every one had always joked at him for keeping it. But he had hammered the jagged edges of the bullet hole smooth and driven a wooden plug into it and then cut the plug off and smoothed it even with the metal inside the helmet.
When the shooting started he had clapped this helmet on his head so hard it banged his head as though he had been hit with a casserole and, in the last lung-aching, leg-dead, mouth-dry, bulletspatting, bullet-cracking, bullet-singing run up the final slope of the hill after his horse was killed, the helmet had seemed to weigh a great amount and to ring his bursting forehead with an iron band. But he had kept it. Now he g with it in a steady, almost machinelike desperation. He had not yet been hit.
"It serves for something finally," Sordo said to him in his deep, throaty voice.
"_Resistir y fortificar es vencer_," Joaqu璯 said, his mouth stiff with the dryness of fear which surpassed the normal thirst of battle. It was one of the slogans of the Communist party and it meant, "Hold out and fortify, and you will win."
Sordo looked away and down the slope at where a cavalryman was sniping from behind a boulder. He was very fond of this boy and he was in no mood for slogans.
"What did you say?"
One of the men turned from the building that he was doing. This man was lying flat on his face, reaching carefully up with his hands to put a rock in place while keeping his chin flat against the ground.
Joaqu璯 repeated the slogan in his dried-up boy's voice without checking his digging for a moment.
"What was the last word?" the man with his chin on the ground asked.
"_Vencer_," the boy said. "Win."
"_Mierda_," the man with his chin on the ground said.
"There is another that applies to here," Joaqu璯 said, bringing them out as though they were talismans, "Pasionaria says it is better to die on your feet than to live on your knees."
"_Mierda_ again," the man said and another man said, over his shoulder, "We're on our bellies, not our knees."
"Thou. Communist. Do you know your Pasionaria has a son thy age in Russia since the start of the movement?"
"It's a lie," Joaqu璯 said.
"_Qu?va_, it's a lie," the other said. "The dynamiter with the rare name told me. He was of thy party, too. Why should he lie?"
"It's a lie," Joaqu璯 said. "She would not do such a thing as keep a son hidden in Russia out of the war."
"I wish I were in Russia," another of Sordo's men said. "Will not thy Pasionaria send me now from here to Russia, Communist?"
"If thou believest so much in thy Pasionaria, get her to get us off this hill," one of the men who had a bandaged thigh said.
"The fascists will do that," the man with his chin in the dirt said.
"Do not speak thus," Joaqu璯 said to him.
"Wipe the pap of your mother's breasts off thy lips and give me a hatful of that dirt," the man with his chin on the ground said. "No one of us will see the sun go down this night."
El Sordo was thinking: It is shaped like a chancre. Or the breast of a young girl with no nipple. Or the top cone of a volcano. You have never seen a volcano, he thought. Nor will you ever see one. And this hill is like a chancre. Let the volcanos alone. It's late now for the volcanos.
He looked very carefully around the withers of the dead horse and there was a quick hammering of firing from behind a boulder well down the slope and he heard the bullets from the submachine gun thud into the horse. He crawled along behind the horse and looked out of the angle between the horse's hindquarters and the rock. There were three bodies on the slope just below him where they had fallen when the fascists had rushed the crest under cover of the automatic rifle and submachine gunfire and he and the others had broken down the attack by throwing and rolling down hand grenades. There were other bodies that he could not see on the other sides of the hill crest. There was no dead ground by which attackers could approach the summit and Sordo knew that as long as his ammunition and grenades held out and he had as many as four men they could not get him out of there unless they brought up a trench mortar. He did not know whether they had sent to La Granja for a trench mortar. Perhaps they had not, because surely, soon, the planes would come. It had been four hours since the observation plane had flown over them.
This hill is truly like a chancre, Sordo thought, and we are the very pus of it. But we killed many when they made that stupidness. How could they think that they would take us thus? They have such modern armament that they lose all their sense with overconfidence. He had killed the young officer who had led the assault with a grenade that had gone bouncing and rolling down the slope as they came up it, running, bent half over. In the yellow flash and gray roar of smoke he had seen the officer dive forward to where he lay now like a heavy, broken bundle of old clothing marking the farthest point that the assault had reached. Sordo looked at this body and then, down the hill, at the others.
They are brave but stupid people, he thought. But they have sense enough now not to attack us again until the planes come. Unless, of course, they have a mortar coming. It would be easy with a mortar. The mortar was the normal thing and he knew that they would die as soon as a mortar came up, but when he thought of the planes coming up he felt as naked on that hilltop as though all of his clothing and even his skin had been removed. There is no nakeder thing than I feel, he thought. A flayed rabbit is as well covered as a bear in comparison. But why should they bring planes? They could get us out of here with a trench mortar easily. They are proud of their planes, though, and they will probably bring them. Just as they were so proud of their automatic weapons that they made that stupidness. But undoubtedly they must have sent for a mortar too.
One of the men fired. Then jerked the bolt and fired again, quickly.
"Save thy cartridges," Sordo said.
"One of the sons of the great whore tried to reach that boulder," the man pointed.
"Did you hit him?" Sordo asked, turning his head with difficulty.
"Nay," the man said. "The fornicator cked back."
"Who is a whore of whores is Pilar," the man with his chin in the dirt said. "That whore knows we are dying here."
"She could do no good," Sordo said. The man had spoken on the side of his good ear and he had heard him without turning his head. "What could she do?"
"Take these sluts from the rear."
"_Qu?va_," Sordo said. "They are spread around a hillside. How would she come on them? There are a hundred and fifty of them. Maybe more now."
"But if we hold out until dark," Joaqu璯 said.
"And if Christmas comes on Easter," the man with his chin on the ground said.
"And if thy aunt had _cojones_ she would be thy uncle," another said to him. "Send for thy Pasionaria. She alone can help us."
"I do not believe that about the son," Joaqu璯 said. "Or if he is there he is training to be an aviator or something of that sort."
"He is hidden there for safety," the man told him.
"He is studying dialectics. Thy Pasionaria has been there. So have Lister and Modesto and others. The one with the rare name told me."
"That they should go to study and return to aid us," Joaqu璯 said.
"That they should aid us now," another man said. "That all the cruts of Russian sucking swindlers should aid us now." He fired and said, "_Me cago en tal_; I missed him again."
"Save thy cartridges and do not talk so much or thou wilt be very thirsty," Sordo said. "There is no water on this hill."
"Take this," the man said and rolling on his side he pulled a wineskin that he wore slung from his shoulder over his head and handed it to Sordo. "Wash thy mouth out, old one. Thou must have much thirst with thy wounds."
"Let all take it," Sordo said.
"Then I will have some first," the owner said and squirted a long stream into his mouth before he handed the leather bottle around.
"Sordo, when thinkest thou the planes will come?" the man with his chin in the dirt asked.
"Any time," said Sordo. "They should have come before."
"Do you think these sons of the great whore will attack again?"
"Only if the planes do not come."
He did not think there was any need to speak about the mortar. They would know it soon enough when the mortar came.
"God knows they've enough planes with what we saw yesterday."
"Too many," Sordo said.
His head hurt very much and his arm was stiffening so that the pain of moving it was almost unbearable. He looked up at the bright, high, blue early summer sky as he raised the leather wine bottle with his good arm. He was fifty-two years old and he was sure this was the last time he would see that sky.
He was not at all afraid of dying but he was angry at being trapped on this hill which was only utilizable as a place to die. If we could have gotten clear, he thought. If we could have made them come up the long valley or if we could have broken loose across the road it would have been all right. But this chancre of a hill. We must use it as well as we can and we have used it very well so far.
If he had known how many men in history have had to use a hill to die on it would not have cheered him any for, in the moment he was passing through, men are not impressed by what has happened to other men in similar circumstances any more than a widow of one day is helped by the knowledge that other loved husbands have died. Whether one has fear of it or not, one's death is difficult to accept. Sordo had accepted it but there was no sweetness in its acceptance even at fifty-two, with three wounds and him surrounded on a hill.
He joked about it to himself but he looked at the sky and at the far mountains and he swallowed the wine and he did not want it. If one must die, he thought, and clearly one must, I can die. But I hate it.
Dying was nothing and he had no picture of it nor fear of it in his mind. But living was a field of grain blowing in the wind on the side of a hill. Living was a hawk in the sky. Living was an earthen jar of water in the st of the threshing with the grain flailed out and the chaff blowing. Living was a horse between your legs and a carbine under one leg and a hill and a valley and a stream with trees along it and the far side of the valley and the hills beyond.

B. 求巴金的短篇小說，500~600字

《狗》
小時候我害怕狗。記得有一回在新年裡，我到二伯父家去玩。在他那個花園內，一條大黑狗追趕我，跑過幾塊花圃。後來我上了洋樓，才躲過這一場災難，沒有讓狗嘴咬壞我的腿。
以後見著狗，我總是逃，它也總是追，而且屢屢望著我的影子狺狺狂吠。我愈怕，狗愈凶。
怕狗成了我的一種病。
我漸漸地長大起來。有一天不知道因為什麼，我忽然覺得怕狗是很可恥的事情。看見狗我便站住，不再逃避。
我站住，狗也就站住。它望著我狂吠，它張大嘴，它做出要撲過來的樣子。但是它並不朝著我前進一步。
它用怒目看我，我便也用怒目看它。它始終保持著我和它中間的距離。
這樣地過了一陣子，我便轉身走了。狗立刻追上來。
我回過頭。狗馬上站住了。它望著我惡叫，卻不敢朝我撲過來。
「你的本事不過這一點點，」我這樣想著，覺得膽子更大了。我用輕蔑的眼光看它，我頓腳，我對它吐出罵語。
它後退兩步，這次倒是它露出了害怕的表情。它仍然汪汪地叫，可是叫聲卻不像先前那樣地「惡」了。
我討厭這種糾纏不清的叫聲。我在地上拾起一塊石子，就對准狗打過去。
石子打在狗的身上，狗哀叫一聲，似乎什麼地方痛了。它馬上掉轉身子夾著尾巴就跑，並不等我的第二塊石子落到它的頭上。
我望著逃去了的狗影，輕蔑地冷笑兩聲。
從此狗碰到我的石子就逃。 —巴金
很高興為你解答

C. 凡卡的故事梗概500字

『壹』 《凡卡》：概括段意和主要內容

主要內容是：

一個名叫凡卡的小男孩來到了城市裡一個財主家裡幹活，在那裡他受到了許多折磨，一天三餐幾乎都是稀飯，夜晚還要搖老闆兒子的搖籃，徹夜不能眠，要是老闆的兒子哭了，那凡卡就又要被打了。

其他伙計也經常捉弄凡卡，導致他被老闆毒打，在一個夜晚，凡卡趁著老闆出去了，拿起了鋼筆和紙張，給他的爺爺寫信，信中描寫了許多凡卡和爺爺在鄉村裡快樂的生活，最後，凡卡把信投進了郵筒，一個醉醺醺的郵差收走了。但是，這封信永遠不會寄到爺爺手裡，因為凡卡沒有寫地址。

第一段（1～2自然段）：寫聖誕節前夜，凡卡趁老闆去做禮拜的機會，偷偷地給爺爺寫信。

第二段（3～6自然段）：寫凡卡開始給爺爺寫信，想像著爺爺替老爺守夜的情景。

第三段（7～14自然段）：講凡卡在信上寫自己如何挨打受折磨，請求爺爺接他回去，還寫了莫斯科的情況並由聖誕樹上的禮物想起爺爺帶他去砍聖誕樹的趣事。

第四段（15～19自然段）：寫凡卡在信的結尾再次懇求爺爺帶他回去。還講了他認真寫好信封，准備投寄的情形。

第五段（20～21自然段）：講凡卡把信投進郵筒並做了個美麗的夢。

中心思想：

課文寫了沙俄時代，一個從農村到城市做學徒的9歲兒童凡卡給爺爺寫信的事，敘述了他的遭受了種種摧殘，揭露了當時社會統治的黑暗，反映了沙俄時代窮人的悲慘命運，極其對幸福生活的嚮往和追求。

(1)凡卡的故事梗概500字擴展閱讀：

《凡卡》是俄國作家契訶夫創作的短篇小說，寫於1886年。文章按寫信的過程記敘。開始敘述聖誕節前夜凡卡趁老闆、老闆娘和伙計們到教堂做禮拜的機會，偷偷地給爺爺寫信。

接著，通過寫信向慈祥的爺爺傾訴自己在鞋鋪當學徒遭受的令人難以忍受的悲慘生活，再三哀求爺爺帶他離開這兒，回到鄉下去生活，並回憶了與爺爺在一起生活情景。

這篇小說通過凡卡給爺爺寫信這件事，反映了沙皇統治下俄國社會中窮苦兒童的悲慘命運，揭露了當時社會制度的黑暗。《凡卡》已選入人教版六年級下冊教材、北師大版五年級下冊教材。

《凡卡》是契訶夫於1886年寫的。當時沙皇統治的社會十分黑暗，無數破產了的農民被迫流入城市謀生，他們深受剝削，甚至連兒童也不能倖免。契訶夫家的小雜貨店裡有兩個小學徒，就常受他父親的虐待。他自小了解學徒生活，也同情小學徒的不幸命運。

為了把情節表現得真實感人，作者在藝術上進行了周密細致的構思，因為凡卡是一個才九歲的孩子，所以作者把書信和敘事互相穿插起來，使兩者水乳交融，真切動人。

假如這篇小說完全採用書信體，凡卡的悲慘境況，他對家鄉生活的懷念，以及他的希望，全部由他用信寫出來，那麼這封信就要寫得很長，很有條理，這就令人難以相信，一個九歲的孩子會有這么大的本領。

何況他還沒有條件享受正規的文化教養，只不過他的母親在老爺家裡做女僕時小姐沒事做才教他讀書寫字，他現在才能拿起筆來給爺爺寫信，而要這樣一個小孩寫出那種有條有理的信就更是不可能的了。

『貳』 凡卡故事梗概300字、快！！快！！

故事發生在十九世紀的俄國，這段時期是俄國歷史上最黑暗的時期。聖誕節版的前夜，小凡卡權趁著老闆夫婦和師傅們外出禱告的時候偷偷給爺爺寫信。故事中的凡卡沒有父母，唯一的親人便是年邁的爺爺。由於生活的貧困小凡卡被爺爺送到城裡的一個鞋匠家裡當學徒。小凡卡在鞋匠家扮演著很多角色，他要干很多的話，各種類型的活；晚上幫著老闆看孩子，白天幫老闆家打雜，時不時地還要被伙計們呼來喊去。總之凡卡在這里受盡了折磨，折磨到凡卡寫信請求爺爺將他帶走，脫離苦海。
凡卡在信中講述了自己所遭受的種種虐待，不時提起鄉下幸福美好的生活。提心吊膽地將信寫完，凡卡帶著美好的心情進入夢鄉。但遺憾的是，凡卡在最後沒有寫清楚收件人的地址，爺爺根本不可能收到信。而他自己還不知道這一點，心中只有美好的憧憬，在睡夢中還看到了爺爺和廚娘。[2]

『叄』 西遊記中師徒四人經過的國度以及每個過度的故事梗概。

九歲的凡卡·茹科夫，三個月前給送到鞋匠阿里亞希涅那兒做學徒。聖誕節前夜，他沒躺下睡覺。他等老闆、老闆娘和幾個伙計到教堂做禮拜去了，就從老闆的立櫃里拿出一小瓶墨水，一支筆尖生了銹的鋼筆，摩平一張揉皺了的白紙，寫起信來。
在寫第一個字以前，他擔心地朝門口和窗戶看了幾眼，又斜著眼看了一下那個昏暗的神像，神像兩邊是兩排架子，架子上擺滿了楦頭。他嘆了一口氣，跪在作台前邊，把那張紙鋪在作台上。
「親愛的爺爺康司坦丁·瑪卡里奇，」他寫道，「我在給您寫信。祝您過一個快樂的聖誕節，求上帝保佑您。我沒爹沒娘，只有您一個親人了。」
凡卡朝黑糊糊的窗戶看看，玻璃窗上映出蠟燭的模糊的影子；他想像著他爺爺康司坦丁·瑪卡里奇，好像爺爺就在眼前。——爺爺是日發略維夫老爺家裡的守夜人。他是個非常有趣的瘦小的老頭兒，65歲，老是笑眯眯地眨著眼睛。白天，他總是在大廚房裡睡覺。到晚上，他就穿上寬大的羊皮襖，敲著梆子，在別墅的周圍走來走去。老母狗卡希旦卡和公狗泥鰍低著頭跟在他後頭。泥鰍是一條非常聽話非常討人喜歡的狗。它身子是黑的，像黃鼠狼那樣長長的，所以叫它泥鰍。
現在，爺爺一定站在大門口，眯縫著眼睛看那鄉村教堂的紅亮的窗戶。他一定在跺著穿著高筒氈靴的腳，他的梆子掛在腰帶上，他凍得縮成一團，聳著肩膀……
天氣真好，晴朗，一絲風也沒有，乾冷乾冷的。那是個沒有月亮的夜晚，可是整個村子——白房頂啦，煙囪里冒出來的一縷縷的煙啦，披著濃霜一身銀白的樹木啦，雪堆啦，全看得見。天空撒滿了快活地眨著眼的星星，天河顯得很清楚，彷彿為了過節，有人拿雪把它擦亮了似的……
凡卡嘆了口氣，蘸了蘸筆尖，接著寫下去。
「昨天晚上我挨了一頓打，因為我給他們的小崽子搖搖籃的時候，不知不覺睡著了。老闆揪著我的頭發，把我拖到院子里，拿皮帶揍了我一頓。這個禮拜，老闆娘叫我收拾一條青魚，我從尾巴上弄起，她就撈起那條青魚，拿魚嘴直戳我的臉。伙計們捉弄我，他們打發我上酒店去打酒，他們叫我偷老闆的黃瓜，老闆隨手撈起個傢伙就打我。吃的呢，簡直沒有。早晨吃一點兒麵包，午飯是稀粥，晚上又是一點兒麵包；至於菜啦，茶啦，只有老闆自己才大吃大喝。他們叫我睡在過道里，他們的小崽子一哭，我就別想睡覺，只好搖那個搖籃。親愛的爺爺，發發慈悲吧，帶我離開這兒回家，回到我們村子裡去吧！我再也受不住了！……我給您跪下了，我會永遠為您禱告上帝。帶我離開這兒吧，要不，我就要死了！……」
凡卡撇撇嘴，拿臟手背揉揉眼睛，抽噎了一下。
「我會替您搓煙葉，「他繼續寫道，「我會為您禱告上帝。要是我做錯了事，您就結結實實地打我一頓好了。要是您怕我找不著活兒，我可以去求那位管家的，看在上帝面上，讓我擦皮鞋；要不，我去求菲吉卡答應我幫他放羊。親愛的爺爺，我再也受不住了，只有死路一條了！……我原想跑回我們村子去，可是我沒有鞋，又怕冷。等我長大了，我會照應您，誰也不敢來欺負您。
「講到莫斯科，這是個大城市，房子全是老爺們的，有很多馬，沒有羊，狗一點兒也不凶。聖誕節，這里的小孩子並不舉著星星燈走來走去，教堂里的唱詩台不準人隨便上去唱詩。有一回，我在一家鋪子的櫥窗里看見跟釣竿釣絲一塊出賣的釣鉤，能釣各種各樣的魚，很貴。有一種甚至約得起一普特重的大鯰魚呢。我還看見有些鋪子賣各種搶，跟我們老闆的槍一樣，我想一桿槍要賣一百個盧布吧。肉店裡有山鷸啊，鷓鴣啊，野兔啊……可是那些東西哪兒打來的，店裡的伙計不肯說。
「親愛的爺爺，老爺在聖誕樹上掛上糖果的時候，請您摘一顆金胡桃，藏在我的綠匣子里頭。」
凡卡傷心地嘆口氣，又獃獃地望著窗口。他想起到樹林里去砍聖誕樹的總是爺爺，爺爺總是帶著他去。多麼快樂的日子呀！凍了的山林喳喳地響，爺爺冷得吭吭地咳，他也跟著吭吭地咳……要砍聖誕樹了，爺爺先抽一斗煙，再吸一陣子鼻煙，還跟凍僵的小凡卡逗笑一會兒。……許多小樅樹披著濃霜，一動不動地站在那兒，等著看哪一棵該死。忽然不知從什麼地方跳出一隻野兔來，箭一樣地竄過雪堆。爺爺不由得叫起來，「逮住它，逮住它，逮住它！嘿，短尾巴鬼！」
爺爺把砍下來的樹拖回老爺家裡，大家就動手打扮那棵樹。
「快來吧，親愛的爺爺，」凡卡接著寫道，「我求您看在基督的面上，帶我離開這兒。可憐可憐我這個不幸的孤兒吧。這兒的人都打我。我餓得要命，又孤零零的，難受得沒法說。我老是哭。有一天，老闆拿楦頭打我的腦袋，我昏倒了，好容易才醒過來。我的生活沒有指望了，連狗都不如！……我問候阿遼娜，問候獨眼的艾果爾，問候馬車夫。別讓旁人拿我的小風琴。您的孫子伊凡·茹科夫。親愛的爺爺，來吧！」
凡卡把那張寫滿字的紙折成四折，裝進一個信封里，那個信封是前一天晚上花一個戈比買的。他想了一想，蘸一蘸墨水，寫上地址。
「鄉下 爺爺收」
然後他抓抓腦袋，再想一想，添上幾個字。
「康司坦丁·瑪卡里奇」
他很滿意沒人打攪他寫信，就戴上帽子，連破皮襖都沒披，只穿著襯衫，跑到街上去了……前一天晚上他問過肉店的伙計，伙計告訴他，信應該丟在郵筒里，從那兒用郵車分送到各地去。郵車上還套著三匹馬，響著鈴鐺，坐著醉醺醺的郵差。凡卡跑到第一個郵筒那兒，把他那寶貴的信塞了進去。
過了一個鍾頭，他懷著甜蜜的希望睡熟了。他在夢里看見一鋪暖炕，炕上坐著他的爺爺，搭拉著兩條腿，正在念他的信……泥鰍在炕邊走來走去，搖著尾巴……
可是夢畢竟是要醒的。聖誕節的大街上，偶爾會穿過一輛馬車，那是貴族家的少爺小姐們去賣禮物，或是到貴族學校去聚會吧。一輛馬車緩緩朝店門口駛來，那匹馬不像市長大人家的馬車那樣，凡卡見過市長大人家的馬。那是前年，沙皇路過這座城市，冬天裡，人們大部分還穿不暖衣服，可在警察的脅迫下，不得不光著腳板拿著發給的花束和綵帶到街上去，去在寒風刺骨中歡迎他們偉大的沙皇。
沙皇和皇後穿著從西伯利亞獵來的北極熊做成的絨袍，皇後脖頸上還圍著用北極狐的皮毛做成的圍脖。老卡加的店裡賣的圍巾於這個比起來可是差遠了，不過他還是捋捋自己滿是油污且皺皺褶褶的襯衣領子，硬是把第二個扣子及到第一個扣眼裡——第一個扣子實在和小琳娜她媽吵架的時候被撕掉的——然後他用沾滿鈔票味的手抹了抹自己的臉。他不明白沙皇和皇後為什麼這么早來，害的他早起未洗臉就得起來迎接。不過老卡家還是挺激動的，因為那畢竟是沙皇呀，他特希望沙皇或是皇後能看他一眼，就像希望城裡人都到他店裡來買東西那樣渴望。
對了，該說說市長大人的馬了，它緊緊跟著沙皇坐的福特轎車——俄國盡管有工廠，可造的轎車就是不如美國的好，有人說皇後帶的首飾就是用造轎車的錢買來的——那是一匹白馬，渾身上下都是肉——凡卡不知道「豐滿「這個詞，所以只能用這個句子來形容——它身上的毛白的像雪，相凡卡家鄉的雪，鬃毛和尾毛大概是馬浮早上剛刷的吧，被風一吹，從那馬身上飄來陣陣熟悉的香味，哦，那是老闆娘用的洗發水的味道——她經常說那洗發水是最好的最貴的，至少在城裡是這樣的，不知她聞見馬身上的味道會怎麼說——在馬那頓涅茨的草原一樣寬廣的肚皮上，從上到下都為著中國產的絲綢——這是他從一個進過圓明園的英國上尉那裡高價買來的——而這都是為的是它的馬顯得更高貴，更有身份，可是他大可不必，因為這城裡有多少人有馬呢？
凡卡伺候的老闆家恰好有一匹，它不如市長大人家的馬肥，也不如那馬香，更不如那馬高貴，可老闆認為他的馬還是不錯的，就像他的人品一樣。那匹瘦骨嶙峋的馬，用它那像凡卡的爺爺拐杖一樣的腿把老闆坐的車拉到了店門口。
凡卡醒了，他醒的很及時，因為老闆回來了。他透過窗子看到那馬的尾巴——尾巴是這馬最顯眼的位置，正所謂「馬瘦毛長」——被編成了一條美麗的花辮子，還夾著一條彩繩。這當然是對花辮子的形容，可是如果這花辮子是馬尾巴，而且是老闆家馬的尾巴，那就大事不妙了。這就像鄰家小琳娜媽媽那小山似的身體穿上緊身衣，就是芭蕾舞演員穿的那種，那是什麼樣子就可想而知了。可門前這馬就是這樣，但以老闆的審美觀來看——他經常把老闆娘比作蒙娜麗莎——是非常好看的。那尾巴是老闆為了在聖誕前夜去教堂做禮拜而特地佔用他平常點錢的時間親手編的。因為他認為，雖然自己的店小了一點，雖然自己的馬差了一點，但為了面子還是要盡力呀，就譬如說把馬尾巴編成花辮子，這樣就可以在老爺太太們面前誇耀了——不過如果讓沒上過多少學的凡卡聽見老闆以自己的馬的尾巴發表的演講（其實是在那些少有修養的人眼裡，那其實是一篇錯別字連篇但又可以得獎的大笑話），凡卡會認為那比談論豬屁股還惡心。
老闆蠕動著自己的身體——他平時不是這樣蠕動，而是扭動——走過來走進店裡。終於凡卡知道為什麼老闆會這樣異常，當店門被推開時，一股烈性伏爾加的味道撲面而來，老闆搖搖晃晃差點倒在凡卡身上，可是看來卧室對他的吸引力更大些，一個身影就這樣撲通一聲倒了下去，到在床上。這時門又開了，是老闆娘，一股龍舌蘭的味道撲面而來，她也差點到在凡卡身上，可最後她還是倒在了床上。就這樣，一陣腳步聲後，店裡又恢復了寂靜。凡卡在一陣提心吊膽之後也又平靜下來，本該在這時忙著擦地的他現在這坐著不動，這若在平常可是找死的呀。
現在，凡卡心想，自己坐著也沒事了，又沒人知道，而這地板擦不擦都一個樣。他漸漸放鬆起來，又想起給爺爺的那封信了。正當凡卡倚著檯子想爺爺時，一雙眼睛盯上了凡卡，這雙眼睛的主人不算是成人，可他卻以一顆成人的心想著一件罪惡的事。
伙計也回來了，他本想把老爺太太附近屋裡，可沒成想他們比兔子還快，根本不用伙計扶，自己就像蘋果落地似的朝著床走了過去。看老闆和老闆娘都走了，睡覺去了，伙計自己也深感疲乏，昨天在第三大街弗拉基米爾家的聚會真是鬧騰極了，現在一想起來就頭疼，所以伙計決定自己還是去睡覺吧。正當他把馬安頓好，從後門進屋准備去睡覺時，他從過道里卻看見一個人，那是凡卡。盡管同樣是從異鄉來的，同樣都還不是大人，可伙計卻對凡卡沒有一點好印象。因為在他那顆雖然只有十六七歲的心上，卻已生出許多心眼，這使他提前成了一個虛偽，充滿欺詐與嫉妒的人。伙計不允許店裡出老闆及其家人以外有任何人敢違抗他，凡卡就這樣成了他暴政下一個不受歡迎的人。是的，作為學徒的凡卡盡管不被老闆喜歡，可他的聰明與靈巧卻讓伙計耿耿於懷。伙計一直把凡卡當作眼中釘肉中刺，生怕凡卡哪一天取代了他的位置。這也就是伙計心裡生成罪惡計劃的原因——他想除掉競爭對手。
老闆和老闆娘雖然喝多了，可畢竟還好好的，他們到下午就醒了過來。當老闆從房裡出來，伸伸胳膊，抽抽褲腰然後又打個哈嘁，最後終於清醒過來後，發現店裡和往常沒有什麼兩樣，便去點錢了，而老闆娘則不像老闆那樣有那麼多壞毛病，剛從床上起來便一溜煙沖出店門，出去了。凡卡呢？他正擦地板呢，來回來去的腳步聲並沒有擾亂他的心，他心中依然想著爺爺。
伙計終於開始他的計劃了。老闆點錢時的神情專注的很，就是此時此刻天塌下來也不能使他挪挪地方。伙計進來了，他是來幫忙記賬的。於是，鈔票過手的聲音與筆尖滑動的聲音此起彼伏。老闆果然是老手，他的工作尤其是與錢有關的，絕對是速度加質量。老闆靠在椅子上，發現今天伙計幹活認真許多，還為自己沏好了茶。這小子今天不錯呀，老闆心想，於是對伙計說，你今天和我們一起來吃飯吧，隨後自己便出去了。而伙計呢，也正暗自心喜，他終於獲得一個想老闆和老闆娘進言的機會了。
畢竟是聖誕節，老闆似乎也鬆了許多。只要凡卡不停的幹活，老伴也就不搭理他，也就不像以往那樣雞蛋里頭挑骨頭了。這使凡卡輕松許多，他雖然坐了不少事，但對於平常來說，這實在是太輕鬆了。終於熬到晚上了，凡卡不盼著老闆價會給他什麼好吃的，不過睡覺時就可以夢見爺爺了。他依然對它的信充滿希望。凡卡喝著稀粥，啃著麵包，而在里過道不遠的餐廳里，老闆，老闆娘還有伙計正大魚大肉的吃呢。就在這當兒，伙計開口了，把他看見凡卡偷懶不幹活再加上許多醋啊油啊，一塊兒回了一鍋，給了老闆和老闆娘。後果可想而知，老闆和老闆娘哪裡還吃飯呀，火氣頓時沖天，老闆娘會屋去拿鞭子，而老闆更是從桌子上抄起一把叉子就沖了出去。伙計自然很高興，只挽挽袖子便跟了出去，因為他並不想一下之凡卡於死地。
在昏暗的燈光下，凡卡因為身上正挨著鞭打而嚎叫，而他心中卻納悶為什麼當時醉醺醺的老闆和老闆娘會知道他偷懶，而他決沒想到會是伙計告的密。老闆一邊抽打著一邊穿著粗氣，還罵凡卡：「叫你個狗崽子偷懶，不幹活，還敢偷麵包，真是反了你了。」對於偷懶凡卡無法否認，但哪來的偷麵包，凡卡真是覺得自己冤枉。他忍住疼，說：「老—老闆，我—沒有偷—偷麵包。」老闆一聽，停下手中的鞭子，「真的沒偷？「「真的。就是您給我是個膽子我也不敢偷麵包去呀。」老闆聽後，氣喘的越來越粗了，凡卡以為老闆累了，可老闆突然揮起手臂，照著凡卡腿上就是一下，凡卡開始還以為是給了他一拳，沒想到一拳下去，凡卡感到揪心的疼，鮮血一下子沁透了凡卡的單褲。原來老闆把叉子刺進了凡卡的肉里，「真是反了，還敢狡辯......"老闆有點累了，他也不管凡卡的傷口，對伙計說：「把他關進馬棚里。」伙計假裝關心凡卡的樣子，說：「老闆，你看，凡卡這個樣子，外面有這么冷，您看......""叫你怎麼辦，你就怎麼辦！」老闆依舊很生氣但也很累，於是就回屋去了。
老闆走了，伙計回過頭來看凡卡，好像昏過去了，看著凡卡鮮血淋淋的腿，伙計露出一絲*笑。心想：凡卡再見了，誰叫你這么倒霉呢？說完，他拖著凡卡，走了。並不是走去馬棚的後門，而是去前門，去大街上。
伙計是這樣打算的，凡卡身上有傷，外面又這么冷，把他仍到外面去，也活不成了。要是老闆過問起來，就說他逃走了，自己凍死在大街上了。於是凡卡被伙計扔在幾個街區外的一個垃圾箱旁。看著凡卡虛弱的身影，伙計又笑了，他沒想到他的計劃這么快就成功了。
而凡卡，他只有九歲的生命正一步步地走向死神。在他顫抖的小嘴中，吐露著兩個字——爺爺。
天漸漸亮了，凡卡也慢慢地睜開了他那疲倦的雙眼。可他還不知道，老闆和老闆娘已經全副武裝地等他醒來呢。凡卡一睜開雙眼，老闆便怒氣沖沖地對凡卡吼道：「小子！你竟敢偷懶不做工了！想造反嗎？今天我非抽死你不可！」
老闆這邊開始「地震」了，老闆娘那邊的「火山」也爆發了。這一對惡夫婦一齊上前打那毫無抵抗能力的凡卡，直到把他打得遍體鱗傷，皮開肉綻為止方才罷休。
被打後的凡卡心裡非常悲憤，他想：「我不能在這里再呆下去了，爺爺可能一時半刻還收不到我的信，我只能靠自己的力量回村子裡去了……好！明天晚上就走！」
第二天晚上，凡卡做完工，他看店裡的老闆、老闆娘、伙計熟睡以後，悄悄地拿了店裡一雙鞋，趕緊逃出了莫斯科。
他走了整整三天，離村子已經不遠了，可他又冷又餓，在離村子還有一公里的地方，他終於倒下了。
說來也巧，這時泥鰍剛好出來覓食，它看見了闊別已久的小主人，馬上把他拖回了家裡，讓爺爺照料小凡卡，想讓小主人快點好起來。
凡卡回到了自己的家，心裡激動不已，因為，他又可以和爺爺在一起生活了。
過了兩個鍾頭，凡卡醒了，老闆和老闆糧怒氣沖沖地看著他，老闆操著一根木棒就打起來，打得凡卡皮開肉綻，嘴裡還不住地罵著：「你吃了熊心豹子膽了，竟然在睡覺。不錯啊，知道偷懶了，敢戲弄我了，開始學壞了啊。」老闆的聲音提高了八度。
頓時，老闆娘的「火山」也噴發了，揪著凡卡的頭發，拿皮帶揍著骨瘦如柴、弱不禁風的凡卡，凡卡昏倒了。
他好不容易才醒過來，拿臟手背揉揉傷口，傷口像刀割了一樣。凡卡傷心地哭了，哭得那麼傷心，就是石頭也會被他感動的。
他的眼淚哭幹了，他決心逃出去。他快速地奔出店門，直往村子趕。正當他跑到離村子不遠的地方時，忽然，看見一張非常面熟凶神惡煞的臉。啊！是老闆！老闆揪著他的頭發回到店裡，把弱小的凡卡綁在一根樹枝上使勁地抽打，凡卡怎麼忍受得了如此的虐待呢？他的眼睛模糊了，淚水涌了出來，哭得那麼傷心，哭得那麼悲痛。這時，他眼前一黑，什麼也看不見，只看見爺爺——康司坦丁·瑪卡里奇帶著公狗泥鰍和老母狗卡希旦卡來救他了，爺爺一紙訴狀將阿里亞希涅告上法庭，阿里亞希涅這個惡魔被當場絞死，讓被他欺凌的人來找他報仇……
凡卡多麼希望回到爺爺的身邊，他盼啊，吩啊……
「砰——」老闆把門踢開，看到凡卡躲在一個角落裡，正在睡覺，頓時火冒三丈，拿起一桶水往凡卡身上潑。凡卡睜開蒙朦朧朧的睡眼，他還以為是爺爺來接他來了，便大叫道：「爺爺！」「爺爺？誰是你爺爺，臭小子！趁我出門，到睡起覺來了，翅膀長硬了是吧，想飛出去了！老子今天非好好教訓教訓你！」凡卡這才知道，是狠毒的老闆回來了。老闆大喝：「伙計，拿我的皮帶來。今天我真得好好教訓這臭小子！」伙計們立刻呈上一條硬硬的皮帶，老闆雙手緊緊捏住這條皮帶，眼睛裡充滿了憤怒，他一步一步地向凡卡走來，凡卡的危險也將一步一步地逼近。凶神惡煞的老闆一把將小凡卡按倒在地，剝下了他的褲子，用皮帶狠狠地抽凡卡的屁股。凡卡一陣劇痛，但他沒有哭，因為他知道，一旦他哭起來，老闆下手會更重的，一旁的伙計非但不來幫幫凡卡，還嘲笑可憐的小凡卡：「瞧他那樣兒，真是鄉巴佬，不知天高地厚！」
接著，凡卡還得忍著被皮帶鞭打的劇烈疼痛，又干起活來：擦地板、擦玻璃、收拾青魚……身子本來就虛的凡卡哪兒經得住這番折騰，差一點兒，凡卡就累得趴下去了……
到吃午飯的時候了，凡卡揉了揉被老闆用皮帶鞭打的屁股，捶了捶累得發疼的腰，端起一碗稀得見低的粥，咕咚咕咚直往喉嚨里倒。而老闆和老闆娘呢！則在客廳里大吃大喝，餐桌上的豐盛的午餐，香氣四溢，一看就讓人流口水。看，就連老闆養的狗都吃上了香噴噴的大鯰魚呢！凡卡看看老闆那兒，又瞧瞧自己的午餐：那碗一口就能喝得精光的粥，不由得嘆了一口氣。他又回想起了以前在鄉下和爺爺一起度過的美好時光……
「臭小子，吃完飯還楞著，是不是想找打，死性不改！還不給我去幹活！」怒氣沖沖的老闆破口大罵，又一次揚起了皮帶……
凡卡又忙碌起來了，他不斷地想：爺爺，你怎麼還不來接我？
夜幕降臨了，凡卡摸了摸餓得飢腸轆轆的肚子，寒顫顫地望著窗外紛紛揚揚的大雪出神。
「哇，哇，哇……」小崽子的哭聲使凡卡清醒過來，老闆聞聲而來：「你這臭小子，偷懶是吧！把我的小崽子弄哭了，高興了是吧！」「沒有，沒有……」老闆不容小凡卡分辨，如同瘋狗似的，用皮帶無情地拍打在凡卡虛弱的身體上。
再一次被狠心的老闆毒打，使凡卡清楚地知道，自己不能再呆在鞋匠鋪里受苦了，要不，總有一天，會被老闆打死的！他想到了逃！他毅然起身，沖進了茫茫大雪之中。
寒風呼呼地刮著，大街上的人都裹著厚厚的棉襖，而凡卡呢，穿著一件單薄，有5、6個補丁的破衣裳；褲子呢，只有半條。因為，老闆覺得凡卡有時太不聽話了，打他也不能消氣，便叫他心愛的狗來扯凡卡的褲子，久而久之，凡卡的褲子就被扯得只剩下半條了；凡卡沒有襪子、鞋子，他只能赤著一雙被大雪凍得通紅的腳走在冷冰冰的大街上。時不時，凡卡還得緊一緊腰帶……
突然，凡卡對面飛來一輛馬車，凡卡沒注意，頓時倒在了血泊之中。「吁——」馬車停了下來。原來是喝得醉醺醺的郵差駕著馬車撞到了凡卡，郵差非但不下馬車救凡卡，而是輕蔑地對凡卡說：「窮小子，撞死活該！寫封信——不貼郵票，不寫收信人地址，誰給你寄！」說完，便用手一撕，再一撕，再撕，再撕……手一揚，風一吹，凡卡給爺爺寫的信變成千萬只蝴蝶，漫天飛舞……凡卡用剩下的最後一口氣，輕輕地叫了一聲：「爺——爺……」用剩下的最後一點力氣，撿了一張碎片，放在胸前，慢慢地死去了……
太陽升起來了，柔和的陽光照在凡卡瘦小的身子上，他嘴唇發白，嘴角卻掛著一絲微笑：他可能在想，爺爺一定會來接他脫離苦海的……

D. 關於馬克 ' 吐溫的短篇小說《百萬英鎊》的故事概括！500字以上

故事發生在上世紀初的英國。一對富豪兄弟用一張面值百萬英鎊的現鈔打賭，看這張鈔票究竟會給人帶來無盡的財富還是只是一張一文不值的「小紙片」。 很快，從美國來的亞當進入了富豪兄弟的視線。這個人的船在海上觸礁沉沒，他靠給其他船隻做工來抵押船票才到了英國。現在他身無分文、飢餓難忍，這樣一個窮人是再適合不過的人選了。於是亞當被請進了富豪家中。 富豪兄弟給了亞當百萬鈔票，並和他約定在一個月的時間里，亞當可以任意使用。但一個月後他必須把鈔票原樣不動地還給富豪，這樣他可以得到富豪們為他提供的任何一份他想從事的工作。亞當糊里糊塗地接受了約定。 亞當無論去吃飯、購買服裝都會因衣衫襤褸遭到人們的白眼。但當他拿出這張鈔票時，人們不但向他大獻殷勤，甚至連相關的費用都可以減免，因為在他們看來亞當是富豪，而且根本沒有人可以給一張百萬面值的鈔票找零。 很快報紙上刊登出美國一位有著著裝怪癖的百萬富翁光臨英國的消息，一時間亞當成為上流社會的焦點，無論是公爵、富商都以和亞當交際為榮，年輕姑娘們更是為了吸引亞當的注意而彼此間爭風吃醋，亞當成為英國盡人皆知的人物。 但很快亞當陷入困境中。先是他欠下的債越來越多，之後飯店服務員和他開玩笑，將百萬鈔票藏了起來，瞬間股市大跌，人們相傳亞當是騙子，要債的人擠滿了整個飯店…… 好在一個月的期限終於到了，亞當如釋重負地將鈔票還給了富豪兄弟。但亞當並沒有接受他們為他安排工作，因為經歷了大起大落，亞當早已厭倦了人們對金錢的追逐。盡管失去了金錢，但他卻得到了許多。

E. 歐亨利短篇小說讀後感500字

【第1篇】

每次讀完他的小說，眼前總會浮現出一雙深邃的眼睛，緊盯桌子上的稿件，行書如行雲流水一般，筆鋒一轉，畫龍點睛。戛然而止，他捧起稿件，輕輕地讀，微微笑出聲來，————他便是「美國的莫泊桑」歐亨利。

1862年1月11日美國北卡羅來納州一個小鎮上，一個嬰兒「呱呱」地哭著出生。「是個男孩！」他的醫生父親興奮地在旁搓著手，走過去安慰臉色蒼白而洋溢著快樂的妻子，——威廉?西德尼?波特誕生了，他便是未來的歐亨利。

身體虛弱的母親沒能給他太多的母愛，便在他幼年時撒手人寰，次後他便與父兄移居祖母和姑媽家。姑媽激發了幼小的他對文學的興趣，父親傳授他醫學知識，他很快在親人的關愛中長大，並在19歲獲得葯劑師搜氏的行業執照。

20歲，他移居到西部，感受到西部的風土人情，在他的記憶和小說里刻下重重的一筆。22歲後他因工作交替而奔波7年,終於當上銀行出納員，有了妻子和孩簡漏汪子。好景不長，僅僅三年後，他便被法院離奇傳訊。次年，他潛入拉丁美洲避難。可兩年後，因妻子病重便回到妻子身邊並受到傳訊。妻子死後，他離開孩子，進入監獄，並在醫務室工作。

工作之餘，他開始寫短篇小說貼補孩子生活費用。期間，他使用筆名歐?亨利，從此，歐?亨利這顆新星冉冉升起，在文學的夜幕中劃出了一道璀璨的星痕！

【第2篇】

歐亨利這位小說家我早有耳聞，假期一直在拜讀他的作品。

他的作品耐人尋味，只有細細品讀，才能體會到作者的情感。並且一些常常被人遺忘的詞語中其實暗藏著作品對其的深刻的評價，雖然我水平有限但是仍然能叢中窺其一二，作品可以說是一個作家的思想結晶，這一點在他的身上得到了集中的體現，他一生所著的作品雖然稱不上很多。但卻都可以稱的上是精華之物。

每一篇短的文章中，都蘊含著一個道理，人與人的精神層面不同，對其文章的理解更是不同。每一次的閱讀，都會讓你感受頗深，明白頗多。

《麥琪的禮物》是歐·亨利寫的一篇有趣的文章。它主要講述了聖誕節的前一天，住在公寓里的貧窮的德拉想給丈夫吉姆一個驚喜，可是她只有一元八角七，她知道這點錢根本不夠買什麼好的禮物，於是她把引以自豪的褐色瀑布似的秀發剪下來，賣了，換來了20美元。找遍了各家商店，德拉花去21美元，終於買到一條樸素的白金錶鏈，這可以配上吉姆的那塊金錶。而吉姆也想給老婆一個驚喜，他同樣賣掉了引以自豪的金錶，買了德拉羨慕渴望已久的全套漂亮的梳子作聖誕禮物。

看似戲劇性的結果，但卻讓我明白的許多，他們兩各自犧牲自己的心愛之物，為的是博取另一半的歡心。兩個人彼此深愛，可以放棄一切。而他們做這些事的時候，都是為了對方攔仔著想，根本沒有考慮自己。正是因為他們互相愛著，而且是深深地愛著對方，才會有這樣有趣的結局。讀完這篇文章，我懂得了我們要去關愛別人，這樣別人才會愛我們，正是有了愛，人與人之間才會相互理解，人與人之間才有溫情。

F. 求一篇500字左右的英文短篇小說 關於生命與死亡主題的

My Brother』s Suicide Is Helping Save Lives

住在美國阿肯色州的妮基18歲，之前從沒有聽別人談論過自殺這回事。但當這事發生在自己家人身上時，她覺得不能再沉默了。
My little brother, Tyler, and I were extremely close growing up. We』d make up top-secret handshakes after watching our favorite show. We spent hours talking about music: I play the clarinet[單簧管], and Ty was a true band geek[怪胎] whose trumpet[小號] was never far out of his reach. Sure, we bickered[鬥嘴] over stupid stuff—it drove me crazy when he』d leave up the toilet seat in the bathroom! But we told each other everything. Or so I』d thought.
我和弟弟泰勒自幼就非常親近。我們會在看完最喜歡的節目後來個秘密握手;我們會花很長時間討論音樂：我吹奏單簧管，泰則是一個不折不扣的樂隊怪胎，小號從不離手。當然，我們也會為一些無聊小事爭吵——每次他在浴室上完廁所卻沒有把廁所板放下我就抓狂!然而我們無話不說——或者我原以為是這樣吧。
Dazed [茫然的] and Confused
茫然與困惑
There was nothing particularly memorable about the cold midwinter Arkansas day when Ty killed himself. Ty, 14, got home from band practice and did the usual: cheerfully greeted everyone, then went straight to his room to practice his trumpet. Once dinner was ready, he joined my mom, my dad, and me to eat barbecued[烤肉] chicken while watching TV. I noticed then that Ty wasn』t talking much—typically[通常] he and my dad joked around the whole time. But it didn』t seem like anything was wrong, and after taking out the trash, Ty went back to his room. I had no idea it would be the last time I』d see him.
泰自殺的那個仲冬天，寒冷的阿肯色一切如常，沒有發生什麼印象特別深刻的事情。14歲的泰參加完樂隊訓練後回到家，像平常那樣高興地向各人問好，然後徑直走回自己房間練習小號。晚餐准備好後，他跟爸爸媽媽和我一邊吃烤雞，一邊看電視。我發現泰沒怎麼說話——通常他和爸爸會不停地開玩笑。但沒什麼不對勁兒的。倒完垃圾後，泰回到自己的房間。我沒想到這是我最後一次見他。
It was nearly 8 o』 clock when I heard what sounded like glass breaking coming from Ty』s room. My dad went to find out what happened, then my mom checked too before dragging[拖，拉] me into their bedroom. 「What』s going on?」 I asked. She was crying so hard, she couldn』t answer. Then my dad showed up with all of our shoes and coats and screamed, 「He』s still got a pulse[脈搏]. We』re going to the emergency room[急救室]!」
差不多8點的時候，我聽見泰的房間里傳出類似玻璃破碎的聲音。爸爸過去看看發生什麼事。媽媽也去查看了，之後她把我拉到他們房間。「發生什麼事了?」我問。她哭得很厲害，根本無法作答。爸爸隨後拿著我們的鞋子和外套出現了，他叫道：「他還有脈搏。我們要去急救室!」
「Oh, my God, I don』t get it! What happened?」 I yelled. But no one answered me. All of a sudden, an ambulance[救護車] was at my house, and we got into the car and sped off behind it. When we arrived at the hospital, Mom and I were put in a private room while my dad checked on Ty. 「What』s going on?!」 I asked again. Mom was hyperventilating[強力呼吸], but she was able to catch her breath enough to say, 「Ty tried to kill himself.」
「噢，我的天啊，我不明白!發生什麼事了?」我叫道。但沒有人回答我。突然，一輛救護車來到我家。我們也上了車，驅車緊跟其後。到達醫院後，媽媽和我被安排在一個單間，爸爸則去查看泰的情況。「到底怎麼回事?!」我再次問到。媽媽竭力地呼吸，但終於能夠緩過氣說話：「泰試圖自殺。」
I was in total denial[否認]. 「That』s not funny!」 I yelled. Then my dad returned, looked at my mom, and shook his head as if to say, 「Ty didn』t make it.」 My mom passed out[昏倒]. I didn』t have any emotion. I wasn』t even crying. NOTHING made sense[有意義].
我一點也不相信。「開什麼玩笑!」我叫道。爸爸回來了。他看著媽媽搖了搖頭，彷彿在說：「泰沒活過來。」媽媽暈倒了。我一點感覺也沒有，甚至沒有哭。一切都顯得毫無意義。
Feeling Lost
悵然若失
After Ty shot himself, my family alternated[交替，輪流] between tears and silence, barely leaving the house. I didn』t go to school for more than four months. I just couldn』t understand why he』d done it—he』d never said that anything was wrong, and it wasn』t until after Ty died that his friend told us that my brother had confessed[承認，坦白] to having thoughts of suicide[自殺]. I went to therapy[治療], but I didn』t like talking to a stranger. Thankfully my best friend was always there for me, but she never pushed me to share my feelings.
泰開槍自殺後，我們一家總是在眼淚和沉默之間徘徊，幾乎沒有離開過房子。我有四個多月沒去上學。我實在不明白他為什麼要這樣做——他從未說過有什麼問題。泰死後，他的朋友才告訴我們泰曾經承認有自殺的念頭。我接受過治療，但始終不喜歡跟陌生人說話。幸好我最好的朋友一直在我左右，不過她從來不會強迫我說出自己的感覺。
When I returned to school, I was surprised that most people treated me normally. That helped because I wanted to act as if it hadn』t happened. But just because nobody mentioned the word suicide didn』t make it disappear. I felt so alone with my feelings, and I didn』t really have anyone I could turn to who had real experience with suicide.
重返學校後，我很驚訝地發現大多數人像平常那樣對我。那很有用，因為我希望一切如常，好像那件事沒有發生過。雖然沒有人提「自殺」這個詞，但並不代表它就消失了。我感到很孤獨，也找不到誰有過涉及自殺的真實經歷可以幫我。
The following spring, I had to do a project for a community-service class, and I realized my topic should be suicide awareness[意識]. I thought if more people talked about it, maybe it wouldn』t happen to another teen. I called the Arkansas Crisis Center, the group who』d spoken to kids at my brother』s school right after his death. I told them I wanted to raise awareness and keep my brother』s memory alive, and when I asked if I could help organize a walkathon注, they said yes! I was so comforted when I saw hundreds of people show up to support my family and other survivors who』d lost loved ones to suicide—I knew then that I wasn』t alone.
第二年春天，我要為社會服務課做一個方案，我意識到應該以「自殺意識」為主題。我想如果多些人討論它，也許自殺就不會發生在其他青少年身上。我打電話給阿肯色危機中心，也就是在我弟弟死後到他學校跟孩子們交談的團體。我對他們說我希望提高人們對自殺的關注，並希望大家記住我弟弟。當我問能否幫忙組織一場步行馬拉松時，他們說可以!看到數以百計的人到來支持我們家，看到那些因自殺而失去至愛的人，我倍感欣慰——我知道自己並不是孤身作戰。
Shedding Some Light
一點希望
Being open about suicide rather than treating it like a secret felt so incredible that I started to speak at school assemblies[集會]. Sharing Ty』s story is helping me heal, and so far I』ve had two people confess that they had thoughts of suicide. I directed them to help right away. It is so amazing to know that another family wouldn』t have to go through what mine did. If Ty were here, I think he』d be really proud of me and happy to know his life is having such a positive[積極的] effect on others.
坦然面對自殺，而不是將它當作一個秘密，這感覺真好。所以我開始在學校的集會上發言。分享泰的故事幫助我治癒(創傷)。至今已經有兩個人向我坦白說他們想過自殺。我馬上指引他們接受幫助。知道另一個家庭不用經歷我們所經歷的一切，真是太好了。如果泰還在，我想他會為我感到十分自豪，也一定會為自己的生命給別人帶來積極的影響而高興。
伸出援手
如果你認識的人想不開，你可以試試以下方法：
發現自殺信號。留意情緒是否有變化——你的朋友已經有兩個星期表現得很沮喪;平時喜歡做的事情現在都不做了;情緒起伏不定;或者突然離群獨居。
告訴其他人。不要把自殺當成秘密。如果你的朋友承認曾經傷害自己，你要告訴家長或老師——即使他/她要你發誓保密。你或許可以挽救一個生命!
聽取意見。你可以咨詢當地的防止自殺組織，聽取他們的意見。
註：尤指在美國和加拿大為特定事業籌款而進行的步行馬拉松。

記得採納，親

G. 求一篇短篇小說（英文的，字數500-1000詞）

Many artists lived in the Greenwich Village area of New York. Two young women named Sue and Johnsy shared a studio apartment at the top of a three-story building. Johnsy's real name was Joanna. In November, a cold, unseen stranger came to visit the city. This disease, pneumonia, killed many people. Johnsy lay on her bed, hardly moving. She looked through the small window. She could see the side of the brick house next to her building. One morning, a doctor examined Johnsy and took her temperature. Then he spoke with Sue in another room. "She has one chance in -- let us say ten," he said. "And that chance is for her to want to live. Your friend has made up her mind that she is not going to get well. Has she anything on her mind?" "She -- she wanted to paint the Bay of Naples in Italy some day," said Sue. "Paint?" said the doctor. "Bosh! Has she anything on her mind worth thinking twice -- a man for example?" "A man?" said Sue. "Is a man worth -- but, no, doctor; there is nothing of the kind." "I will do all that science can do," said the doctor. "But whenever my patient begins to count the carriages at her funeral, I take away fifty percent from the curative power of medicines." After the doctor had gone, Sue went into the workroom and cried. Then she went to Johnsy's room with her drawing board, whistling ragtime. Johnsy lay with her face toward the window. Sue stopped whistling, thinking she was asleep. She began making a pen and ink drawing for a story in a magazine. Young artists must work their way to "Art" by making pictures for magazine stories. Sue heard a low sound, several times repeated. She went quickly to the bedside. Johnsy's eyes were open wide. She was looking out the window and counting -- counting backward. "Twelve," she said, and a little later "eleven"; and then "ten" and "nine;" and then "eight" and "seven," almost together. Sue looked out the window. What was there to count? There was only an empty yard and the blank side of the house seven meters away. An old ivy vine, going bad at the roots, climbed half way up the wall. The cold breath of autumn had stricken leaves from the plant until its branches, almost bare, hung on the bricks. "What is it, dear?" asked Sue. "Six," said Johnsy, quietly. "They're falling faster now. Three days ago there were almost a hundred. It made my head hurt to count them. But now it's easy. There goes another one. There are only five left now." "Five what, dear?" asked Sue. "Leaves. On the plant. When the last one falls I must go, too. I've known that for three days. Didn't the doctor tell you?" "Oh, I never heard of such a thing," said Sue. "What have old ivy leaves to do with your getting well? And you used to love that vine. Don't be silly. Why, the doctor told me this morning that your chances for getting well real soon were -- let's see exactly what he said ¨C he said the chances were ten to one! Try to eat some soup now. And, let me go back to my drawing, so I can sell it to the magazine and buy food and wine for us." "You needn't get any more wine," said Johnsy, keeping her eyes fixed out the window. "There goes another one. No, I don't want any soup. That leaves just four. I want to see the last one fall before it gets dark. Then I'll go, too." "Johnsy, dear," said Sue, "will you promise me to keep your eyes closed, and not look out the window until I am done working? I must hand those drawings in by tomorrow." "Tell me as soon as you have finished," said Johnsy, closing her eyes and lying white and still as a fallen statue. "I want to see the last one fall. I'm tired of waiting. I'm tired of thinking. I want to turn loose my hold on everything, and go sailing down, down, just like one of those poor, tired leaves." "Try to sleep," said Sue. "I must call Mister Behrman up to be my model for my drawing of an old miner. Don't try to move until I come back." Old Behrman was a painter who lived on the ground floor of the apartment building. Behrman was a failure in art. For years, he had always been planning to paint a work of art, but had never yet begun it. He earned a little money by serving as a model to artists who could not pay for a professional model. He was a fierce, little, old man who protected the two young women in the studio apartment above him. Sue found Behrman in his room. In one area was a blank canvas that had been waiting twenty-five years for the first line of paint. Sue told him about Johnsy and how she feared that her friend would float away like a leaf. Old Behrman was angered at such an idea. "Are there people in the world with the foolishness to die because leaves drop off a vine? Why do you let that silly business come in her brain?" "She is very sick and weak," said Sue, "and the disease has left her mind full of strange ideas." "This is not any place in which one so good as Miss Johnsy shall lie sick," yelled Behrman. "Some day I will paint a masterpiece, and we shall all go away." Johnsy was sleeping when they went upstairs. Sue pulled the shade down to cover the window. She and Behrman went into the other room. They looked out a window fearfully at the ivy vine. Then they looked at each other without speaking. A cold rain was falling, mixed with snow. Behrman sat and posed as the miner. The next morning, Sue awoke after an hour's sleep. She found Johnsy with wide-open eyes staring at the covered window. "Pull up the shade; I want to see," she ordered, quietly. Sue obeyed. After the beating rain and fierce wind that blew through the night, there yet stood against the wall one ivy leaf. It was the last one on the vine. It was still dark green at the center. But its edges were colored with the yellow. It hung bravely from the branch about seven meters above the ground. "It is the last one," said Johnsy. "I thought it would surely fall ring the night. I heard the wind. It will fall today and I shall die at the same time." "Dear, dear!" said Sue, leaning her worn face down toward the bed. "Think of me, if you won't think of yourself. What would I do?" But Johnsy did not answer. The next morning, when it was light, Johnsy demanded that the window shade be raised. The ivy leaf was still there. Johnsy lay for a long time, looking at it. And then she called to Sue, who was preparing chicken soup. "I've been a bad girl," said Johnsy. "Something has made that last leaf stay there to show me how bad I was. It is wrong to want to die. You may bring me a little soup now." An hour later she said: "Someday I hope to paint the Bay of Naples." Later in the day, the doctor came, and Sue talked to him in the hallway. "Even chances," said the doctor. "With good care, you'll win. And now I must see another case I have in your building. Behrman, his name is -- some kind of an artist, I believe. Pneumonia, too. He is an old, weak man and his case is severe. There is no hope for him; but he goes to the hospital today to ease his pain." The next day, the doctor said to Sue: "She's out of danger. You won. Nutrition and care now -- that's all." Later that day, Sue came to the bed where Johnsy lay, and put one arm around her. "I have something to tell you, white mouse," she said. "Mister Behrman died of pneumonia today in the hospital. He was sick only two days. They found him the morning of the first day in his room downstairs helpless with pain. His shoes and clothing were completely wet and icy cold. They could not imagine where he had been on such a terrible night. And then they found a lantern, still lighted. And they found a ladder that had been moved from its place. And art supplies and a painting board with green and yellow colors mixed on it. And look out the window, dear, at the last ivy leaf on the wall. Didn't you wonder why it never moved when the wind blew? Ah, darling, it is Behrman's masterpiece ¨C he painted it there the night that the last leaf fell."

H. 求《歐亨利短篇小說》讀後感，500-600字

讀《麥琪的禮物》有感
《麥琪的禮物》是歐·亨利寫的一篇有趣的文章。它主要講述了聖誕節的前一天，住在公寓里的貧窮的德拉想給丈夫吉姆一個驚喜，可是她只有一元八角七，她知道這點錢根本不夠買什麼好的禮物，於是她把引以自豪的褐色瀑布似的秀發剪下來，賣了，換來了20美元。找遍了各家商店，德拉花去21美元，終於買到一條樸素的白金錶鏈，這可以配上吉姆的那塊金錶。而吉姆也想給老婆一個驚喜，他同樣賣掉了引以自豪的金錶，買了德拉羨慕渴望已久的全套漂亮的梳子作聖誕禮物。
從這篇文章里，雖然表面上看他們極不明智地為了對方而犧牲了他們家各自最寶貴的東西，但我深深地感到，他們彼此深愛著對方。他們能犧牲自己最貴重的物品，為的是給對方買來最好的禮物。可是雙方賣掉了自己貴重的物品，那麼對方的禮物已經不適合自己了，而他們做這些事的時候，都是為了對方著想，根本沒有考慮自己。正是因為他們互相愛著，而且是深深地愛著對方，才會有這樣有趣的結局。
讀完這篇文章，我懂得了我們要去關愛別人，這樣別人才會愛我們，正是有了愛，人與人之間才會相互理解，人與人之間才有溫情。人與動物之間也是因為有了愛，動物才會信任人類，不傷害人類，與人類和平相處。愛的力量真的是很偉大的，有一首歌裡面就唱到了：只要人人都獻出一點愛，世界將變成美好的人間。在去年印度洋海嘯發生的時候，就有全世界各國的人民伸出援助之手，捐款捐物幫助受難的災民重建家園，使失散的親人團聚，從這件事中，我感受到了各國人民之間的純潔友誼。我相信：只要我們心中充滿愛，我們的世界會有更加美好的明天

最後一片葉子》讀後感
因這我想看到最後一片葉子掉下來，我等得不耐煩了，也想得不耐煩了，我想擺脫一切飄下去，飄下去，像一片可憐的，疲倦了的葉子那樣。
——引自《最後一片葉子》
其實，我想對你們說，別再這樣無聊下去了，學點吧，至少讓你們覺得並非無事可做。我想對你們說，抓住青春吧，別讓它從你身邊飄走。
初中三年，應該是殘酷的三年，因為它只來一次，而它來的時候，我們還不懂得人生，還沒有做好迎接它的准備。我不想你們在走出這個大門後，回首的瞬間，有著太多的失落、後悔與心酸。
或許因為一次次地失敗，你們對學習失去了信心，你們認為這一切太難太難。但即使如此，我們就可以放棄嗎？
不，為什麼要放棄！一直以來，我就以為自己的命運就得自己來主宰；一直以來，我就認為這世上的每一個生命都有權力活出自己的精彩；一直以來，我就把自己當作一個勇士，任何的驚險，我都要去嘗試；一直以來，在每一次失落、失敗後，我命令自己勇敢地站起來！
對自己的未來負責，你們想過嗎？不需要別人來畫上那一片葉子，讓我們自己對自己說：永遠都不放棄，在任何時刻！
選擇：給我自己
貝爾門，一個偉大的畫家。雖然他的大半生都窮困潦倒，走得是一條失敗之路。但他始終有個響亮的目標——畫一幅「偉大的傑作」。四十年，他都沒有因自己的失敗而放棄作畫，他一直等待著時機。
與把自己的生命寄託於一片飄搖的葉子瓊西相比，貝爾門更像一個失敗的英雄。面對他，和他用生命畫成的「傑作」，我們任何人都不得不肅然起敬。
然而，如果冷靜地思考一下，像貝爾門這樣幾乎盲目的執著卻並非可取。若沒有最後的偶然，他將是一個徹頭徹尾的可憐蟲。在這個世界上，物競天擇，適者生存，既然他在畫畫方面沒有什麼天賦，不可能有更大的發展，那就應該明智些，在活下來的前提下，更換一種新的生存方式
，努力使自己活得更出色，而不必拘泥於那沒有發展的繪畫。

學習，就像一棵樹——或許生活也是。我們不可能將每片葉子、每件事都做得很好。就像我，不可能完全地參加所有競賽，不可能把我曾經喜愛的笛子、二胡練得樣樣精通，也不可能和每一個同學交成好朋友。於是，我選擇放棄，我放棄了許多的葉子，放棄了二胡、笛子，放棄了我不能取得成功的數學競賽，但我不放棄自己。放棄一些葉子，只是為了讓有限的水分和養料開出我想要的花，結出我想要的果，只是為了讓自己的根枝長得更粗壯，讓自己有一個更有發展餘地的未來。
於是，我放棄我應該放棄的，但絕不放棄自己。
《警察與贊美詩》讀後感
當人們真正想要努力去做了，上帝偏偏又開始吝嗇了，反悔了，賴皮了。
不可否認，機遇是不等人的，它不是被動的，不會等著你去分析這，分析那，考慮這，考慮那等一系列瑣碎的事件後，再決定去做。或許它本身就是個稍縱即逝的「精靈」，它考驗的是我們的勇氣與膽量，智慧與靈魂。但也不是說，所有的事都不應該經過深思熟慮，周密安妥的進行，如果是這樣，那麼我們與遠古時代又有何分別？ 當然機遇也是需要珍惜的，需要好好利用的，碰到機遇已經是很「困難」的，要充分地徹底地去利用，卻是「難上加難」。怎樣去更好地「完善」它，是個重點。
那位警察，不是已經給了索比多次機會嗎？而索比並沒有為此去認識到什麼，只是一味地無休止地不停地為著他心中所謂的「目標」繼續扮演著生命的「小丑」，樂此不疲。而幸運的他，總在「舞台」上有寫「失足」，但終究被當作「笑料」，一笑置之。
一場「戲劇」的結束，意味著另一場「戲劇」的開演。對警察而言，只是去例行公事；對讀者而言，只是將近結尾；對生活而言，只是個小插曲；對編劇而言，是個不錯的情節；對觀眾而言，只是對得起一張票；對索比而言，是對生命的新想法地靠近，是為他先前的「無知」付出的代價，是為他不懂的珍惜從他手中逃脫，也許可以扭轉他命運的「機遇」而對其藐視所得到的教訓的最終結果。
如果他會怪任何人，那麼證明他的確活該；如果他只怪自己，那麼他就能大聲地對自己說：「三個月，也不算太久，我會珍惜並且把握住每一天的光陰。幸福，其實並沒走遠，只是我忽略了。等著吧……」
幸福，其實並沒走遠。沒錯，主宰幸福的有很多，機遇是其中的一個。不要等到上帝不耐煩了，畢竟他也有喜怒哀樂，給你個下馬威，到那時，就好象太沒「人情味」了。受苦的可是自己。
珍惜周遭的人或物，它們每天都在改變，只是我們太忙，沒看見。機遇，就好比是遇到的機會，是件好事。好好把握，將它的好處發揮至極，則是一件「美」事。一個人的生命中會有形形色色的狀況，每一個狀況所具有的意義卻是截然不同，大相徑庭。選擇不同的狀況，就會有不同的人生，不同的命運，不同的變化……所以，我們要將機遇「透明化」，完全看清，這樣，才不會誤入歧途啦。
倘若相反，結局就會如同索比：驚恐地醒悟到自己已經墜入了深淵，墮落的歲月，可恥的慾念，悲觀失望，才窮智竭，動機卑鄙。
機遇遇到卻不把握，是蠢材；不遇機遇卻懂得把握，是人才；既遇機遇又懂得把握，是天才。
《我的叔叔於勒》是莫泊桑的經典短篇小說之一，描寫了一個破落家族寄希望於遠走美國的「於勒叔叔」能夠衣錦還鄉帶來財富，然而卻在一次郊遊中偶然發現，這位親戚已經成了一名在遊船上賣牡蠣的流浪漢，從而夢幻破滅的故事。莫泊桑以嫻熟的諷刺筆法，描摹了19世紀法國社會的市井百態，文字精煉而又頗為傳神。

《兩位感恩節的紳士》故事講了兩位美國紳士——其中一人根本不能稱之為紳士，他只能說是一個常年受飢餓折磨的窮人。在他們之間有個奇怪的約定——每年感恩節，窮人便會坐在聯邦廣場噴水池對面人行道旁邊東入口右面的第三條長凳上，等待著老紳士的到來。老紳士來了之後，會帶這位飢腸轆轆的窮人飽餐一頓。這就是他們之間神聖的約定。對老紳士而言，一頓飯錢簡直微不足道，但是，他卻從其中找到了助人的樂趣。而窮人的目的也並不完全是在於那頓豐盛的飯菜，更重要的是能使一位老人如自己所願。
這個傳統延續了九年之久，第十年的感恩節，窮人照慣例走在去約會地點的路上。可出乎意料的事發生了。半路上，窮人被一幢住宅的管家請進了門，並可以享受一頓豐盛的大餐。原來住宅的主人——兩位老太太，也有一個奇怪的傳統——在正午把第一個飢餓的路人請進門，讓他大吃大喝，飽餐一頓。飢餓的窮人抵擋不住事物的誘惑，暢開肚子，吃了起來。當他心滿意足地走出住宅時，才想起了和老紳士的約定。但他還是如約與老紳士碰了面。老紳士將他帶到了一處餐廳，窮人為了不掃老紳士的興，只能裝作飢餓難奈地狼吞虎咽起來。盡管窮人那時只剩下挪動身子和呼吸的確力氣了。窮人吃完後，老紳士付了帳，兩人便道了別。
故事的結局是——兩人在回家的路上都暈了過去，被送進了醫院。窮人是因為吃得太撐，幾乎撐破了胃，而老紳士，一位在前些日子還家財萬貫的富翁則是因為三天三夜沒有吃東西，身體脫虛，而在路上倒了下來。
讀這篇文章就好像是在嚼一隻橄欖，甜味中帶了一絲酸澀，讓人在漠然一笑之後，思索良久。
文中的主人公，充其量不過是兩個「小人物」，然而反映初等推己及人，相濡以沫的人性魅力卻是那些「大人物」，「權貴們」所無法匹敵的。
那位老紳士在身上只剩下一點錢的情況下，完全可以不去赴約，但是他看重的不是金錢，而是誠信，他寧可餓死也不願意食言。相比如今社會上一些只要自己利益受到損害就不擇手段的人來說，老紳士的人性魅力顯露無遺。再看那個窮人，盡管吃不飽穿不暖，沒有受什麼教育，但是他比任何受過良好教育的「權貴」都充滿魅力 ——那是人性的魅力，他可以對老紳士說自己已經飽了，可他為了圓老紳士的心願，咬緊牙關，把飯菜吃得乾乾凈凈。也許這很可笑，可是卻是不是多麼偉大，多麼令人欽佩！
讀了這篇文章，我知道了人性的偉大力量，我也立志要像那兩個紳士一樣，不求活得轟轟烈烈，但求真真實實，充滿意義，有所追求！！！

I. 用英文寫一篇短篇愛情小說

In the autumn of my last year at college，I got into the habit of studying at the Radcliffe library ．I didn't do it just to admire the girls，though I agree I liked that too．The place was quiet，nobody knew me，and there was less demand for the books I needed for my studies．The day before one of my midterm history exams，I still hadn't found time to read the first book on the reading list．（That，of course，is a very common disease at Harvard．） I walked over to the reservations desk to get one of the books which would save me from failing me exam the next day．There were two girls working there．One was a tall，sporty type．The other was the quiet kind，in glasses．I choseher-Middle Four Eyes．

『Do you have English Society in the Middle Ages？』

She looked at me．It was a sharp，unfriendly look．『Don't you have your own library at Harvard？』she asked．

『Listen，Harvard students are allowed to use the Radcliffe library．』

『I'm not talking about what you're allowed to do，Preppie．I'm talking about what's right and fair．You fellows have five million books．We only have a few thousand．』

My god，I thought．I wish I'd spoken to the sporty one！This girl's the type that thinks that，because there are five times as many men at Harvard as there are girls at Radcliffe，the girls gave to be five times as smart．Ican usually make those types feel pretty．But just then I badly needed that damn book．

『Listen，I need that damn book．』

『Would you please watch your language，Preppie．』

『What makes you so sure I went to prep school？』

『You look stupid and rich，』she said，removing her glasses．

『You're wrong，』I said．『I'm smart and poor．』

『Oh，no，Preppie，』she said．『I'm smart and poor．』

She was looking straight at me．Her eyes were brown．All right，maybe I look rich，but I wouldn't let a Radcliffe girl-even one with pretty eyes-call me stupid．

『What makes you so smart？』I asked．

『I wouldn't go for coffee with you，』she replied．

『Listen-I wouldn't ask you．』

『That，』she replied，『is what makes you stupid．』

Let me explain why I took her for coffee．By al－lowing her to think I wanted to，I got that book．And， because she couldn't leave the library until closing time，I had plenty of time to study it．I learned some useful facts about the church and the law in the eleventh century．As a result，I got an A in my history exam．That，bythe way，was the mark I gave to Jenny's legswhen she first walked out from behind that desk．I can't say I gave her high marks for her clothes，however．They were rather strange，to say the least．I specially hated that In-dian thing that she used for a handbag．Fortunately I didn't mention this，as I later discovered that she had made that herself．

We went to a coffee shop near by．I ordered coffee for both of us，and a chocolate ice-cream for her．

『I'm Jennifer Cavilleri，』she said．『I'm American，but my family came from Italy．』I had guessed that al－ready．『And I'm studying music，』she added．
sorry~太長了!!!

J. 短篇小說500

純種德國黑格爾
與其做一株綠洲中的小草，不如做一棵禿丘上的橡樹
——題記

有一條流浪的純種純種德國黑格爾，剛出生就被父母拋棄，因為純種的德國黑格爾天生就要受到磨練。這可憐的傢伙甚至不知道自己的父母是誰，他甚至認為自己是一隻被父母雜種狗。他只能靠著揀別人的殘羹剩飯來維持生活，盡遭別人的白眼，它痛苦極了，它受夠了這樣的生活，它詛咒這個世界，它感到自己是世上最不幸的狗。
直到有一天，它攢夠5根骨頭的學費到狗學院報名。學院的老師教它去找一個富有的人家做他們的寵物，教會它怎樣討好主人，讓它無論自己是否高興都要搖著尾巴，裝出一副很高興的樣子，主人不管說什麼，一定要百分百的服從……
他的夫人來到寵物店，這條流浪狗抓住了這個機會，趕忙迎上去，一個勁地搖尾巴，果然，學校里的功課起了作用，這一對夫妻看中了就這樣，一年之後這條流浪狗畢業了。畢業後，學校把它送進了寵物店。寵物店裡的人上上下下給他打扮了一番，給他穿了一件好看的紅毛衣——盡管夏天裡穿毛衣讓他感到很不舒服；又給它噴上了高檔香水——雖然他對這香味過敏。一周後，一位西裝革履的人領著這條流狗。把鈔票一放，抱著他回了家。他靠著在學校里的本事在家裡站住了腳。
這個家裡的主人有錢有勢，他生活地十分幸福：有好吃的、有好喝的、有主人買來的寵物玩具玩……他過著夢寐以求的生活，他得到了其他狗羨慕的眼神。當然這全靠學院里的「技能」：看見主人就搖尾巴，並表現得十分高興，無論主人叫你怎樣，要百分百服從，即使那有多難或多麼傷尊嚴。主人喜歡的人，再邪惡也要向他表示友好，主人厭惡的人，再善良也得狗眼看人低……
該有的全有了，可他總覺得少了點什麼，不，是少了一些很重要的東西！他一天比一天苦惱，他覺得他生活得很窩囊，他受不了這種低三下四的生活，他受夠了！好象有一種信念再呼喚他，他不能這么活下去了！他醒悟了！他終於明白他失去了尊嚴和自由！他再也受不了了，他頭也不回地離開了那個叫做「家」的「家」，那不是他要的生活…。
後來，他選擇了過無憂無慮的生活。再後來他做了一隻警犬，再進行警犬訓練時，訓練員吃驚地告訴他，他是一隻種純種德國黑格爾！他聽了不禁吃了一驚，他發誓今後再也不做那寄生在有錢人家的窩囊廢！他覺得他對不起他那高貴的血統！
他當了一隻警犬，雖然很艱苦，沒有好吃、好喝、好玩的，沒有閑適的生活。但他覺得日子過得很充實。因為他覺得這么活著有意義；這么活著是真正地「活著」，就這樣在艱苦的訓練下，他成為了一隻優秀的警犬，多次解決大案，因表現神勇被人們尊稱為「神犬」他驕傲極了，他覺得雖然失去了優越的生活條件但去得到他認為最重要的東西——尊嚴。
但，在一次案子中……有一次，他在追一個罪犯時，奮不顧身地跑在最前面，他勇猛地咬住罪犯的腳，罪犯吃痛，憤怒地大聲叫嚷，並抽出腰邊的尖刀。這時，這流浪狗，不！這只「神犬」卻毫不畏懼地撲向歹徒。他想就是送了命也要盡到警犬的責任；就是送了命也要對得起「神犬」這個稱號……可不容他想下去罪犯那罪惡的尖刀便插入了「神犬」的胸膛。頓時。血涌……但神犬卻緊緊咬住罪犯的腿，毫不放鬆，喪心病狂的罪犯又向「神犬」的身體連捅了好幾刀。這時，我們的英雄——「神犬」終於支持不住了，他倒下了……
臨死的一瞬間，「神犬」心想：這么死，值了……