Just a few hours ago , the Italian ship Andrea Doria was sailing through thick fog toward the city of New York . Captain Piero Calamai kept watch . He knew that many other ships were nearby . He should have slowed down because of the fog but he decided not to . He wanted to arrive on time the next morning .

At about 11:00 P.M. , another ship , the Stockholm , suddenly hit the Andrea Doria . It made a huge hole in the Italian ship . Some people were badly hurt . Others fell into the sea . But one girl was saved by the Stockholm .

Linda Morgan was fourteen . She lived in Spain with her mother and her little sister . She was going to visit her father in New York . She was excited about seeing her father .

Linda had loved the trip . She wanted to have dinner with the captain on the last night at sea . The captain did not sit at his table that night , though . He was busy guiding the ship through the fog . Linda did not get to talk to him .

When Linda went to bed , everything seemed fine . Her mother turned off the lights . Linda talked to her little sister . She thought about seeing her father the next morning .

What happened next was a terrible surprise . Linda woke up not knowing where she was . She was not in her bed . When she called to her family , no one answered . Both her knees were broken .

Linda had been saved by an amazing accident . When the Stockholm made a hole in the side of the Andrea Doria , it lifted Linda out of her bed . She landed on the deck（甲板）of the Stockholm instead of falling into the ocean . A sailor heard her cries and found her .

Right now , the girl is in the hospital . She is expected to get better . Her father is at her side , glad that his little girl saved . The Andrea Doria lies under the waves at the bottom of the sea .

61. Why didn’t Captain Piero Calamai reduce the speed ?

A. He thought the fog was not serious .    B. He went crazy because of the bad weather .

C. He didn’t want to be late .            D. He had rich experience .

62. Linda didn’t have dinner with the captain because       .

A. he was busy with his work        B. she was sick in bed

C. she forgot it                    D. he hadn’t been told about it

63. When the accident happened ,       .

A. the day was about to break        B. Linda was asleep

C. few people were killed           D. the Andrea Doria hit a hole in the Stockholm

64. What can we learn from the text ?

A. Linda hated the trip very much .       B. The Andrea Doria wasn’t badly damaged .

C. Linda lived with her father in Spain .   D. Linda was saved by the Stockholm .

65. What’s the main idea of the passage ?

A. A little girl’s braveness moved people .

B. A fourteen-year-old girl was saved by accident after the crash .

C. The Italian ship Andrea Doria was hit by Stockholm .

D. Andrea Doria sailed through thick fog .

About this time every year, I get very nostalgic(懷舊的). Walking through my neighborhood on a fall afternoon reminds me of a time not too long ago when sounds of children filled the air, children playing games on a hill, and throwing leaves around in the street below. I was one of those children, carefree and happy. I live on a street that is only one block long. I have lived on the same street for sixteen years. I love my street. One side has six houses on it, and the other has only two houses, with a small hill in the middle and a huge cottonwood tree on one end. When I think of home, I think of my street. Only I see it as it was before. Unfortunately things change. One day, not long ago, I looked around and saw how different everything has become. Life on my street will never be the same because neighbors are quickly grown old, friends are growing up and leaving, and the city is planning to destroy my precious hill and sell the property to contractors.
It is hard for me to accept that many of my wonderful neighbors are growing old and won’t be around much longer. I have fond memories of the couple across the street, who sat together on their porch swing almost every evening, the widow next door who yelled at my brother and me for being too loud, and the crazy old man in a black suit who drove an old car. In contrast to those people, the people I see today are very old neighbors who have seen better days. The man in the black suit says he wants to die, and another neighbor just sold his house and moved into a nursing home. The lady who used to yell at us is too tired to bother any more, and the couple across the street rarely go out to their front porch these days. It is difficult to watch these precious people as they near the end of their lives because at once I thought they would live forever.
The “comings and goings” of the younger generation of my street are now mostly “goings” as friends and peers move on. Once upon a time, my life and the lives of my peers revolved around home. The boundary of our world was the gutter at the end of the street. We got pleasure from playing night games or from a breathtaking ride on a tricycle. Things are different now, as my friends become adults and move on. Children who rode tricycles now drive cars. The kids who once played with me now have new interests and values as they go their separate ways. Some have gone away to college like me, a few got married, two went into the army, and one went to prison. Watching all these people grow up and go away makes me long for the good old days.
Perhaps the biggest change on my street is the fact that the city is going to turn my precious hill into several lots for new homes. For sixteen years, the view out of my kitchen window has been a view of that hill. The hill was a fundamental part of my childhood life; it was the hub of social activity for the children of my street. We spent hours there building forts, sledding, and playing tag. The view out of my kitchen window now is very different; it is one of tractors and dump trucks tearing up the hill. When the hill goes, the neighborhood will not be the same. It is a piece of my childhood. It is a visual reminder of being a kid. Without the hill, my street will be just another pea in the pod.
There was a time when my street was my world, and I thought my world would never change. But something happened. People grow up, and people grow old. Places changes, and with the change comes the heartache of knowing I can never go back to the times I loved. In a year or so, I will be gone just like many of my neighbors. I will always look back to my years as a child, but the place I remember will not be the silent street whose peace is interrupted by the sounds of construction. It will be the happy, noisy, somewhat strange, but wonderful street I knew as a child.
【小題1】The writer calls up the memory of the street _____________.

About this time every year, I get very nostalgic(懷舊的). Walking through my neighborhood on a fall afternoon reminds me of a time not too long ago when sounds of children filled the air, children playing games on a hill, and throwing leaves around in the street below. I was one of those children, carefree and happy. I live on a street that is only one block long. I have lived on the same street for sixteen years. I love my street. One side has six houses on it, and the other has only two houses, with a small hill in the middle and a huge cottonwood tree on one end. When I think of home, I think of my street. Only I see it as it was before. Unfortunately things change. One day, not long ago, I looked around and saw how different everything has become. Life on my street will never be the same because neighbors are quickly grown old, friends are growing up and leaving, and the city is planning to destroy my precious hill and sell the property to contractors.
It is hard for me to accept that many of my wonderful neighbors are growing old and won’t be around much longer. I have fond memories of the couple across the street, who sat together on their porch swing almost every evening, the widow next door who yelled at my brother and me for being too loud, and the crazy old man in a black suit who drove an old car. In contrast to those people, the people I see today are very old neighbors who have seen better days. The man in the black suit says he wants to die, and another neighbor just sold his house and moved into a nursing home. The lady who used to yell at us is too tired to bother any more, and the couple across the street rarely go out to their front porch these days. It is difficult to watch these precious people as they near the end of their lives because at once I thought they would live forever.
The “comings and goings” of the younger generation of my street are now mostly “goings” as friends and peers move on. Once upon a time, my life and the lives of my peers revolved around home. The boundary of our world was the gutter at the end of the street. We got pleasure from playing night games or from a breathtaking ride on a tricycle. Things are different now, as my friends become adults and move on. Children who rode tricycles now drive cars. The kids who once played with me now have new interests and values as they go their separate ways. Some have gone away to college like me, a few got married, two went into the army, and one went to prison. Watching all these people grow up and go away makes me long for the good old days.
Perhaps the biggest change on my street is the fact that the city is going to turn my precious hill into several lots for now homes. For sixteen years, the view out of my kitchen window has been a view of that hill. The hill was a fundamental part of my childhood life; it was the hub of social activity for the children of my street. We spent hours there building forts, sledding, and playing tag. The view out of my kitchen window now is very different; it is one of tractors and dump trucks tearing up the hill. When the hill goes, the neighborhood will not be the same. It is a piece of my childhood. It is a visual reminder of being a kid. Without the hill, my street will be just another pea in the pod.
There was a time when my street was my world, and I thought my world would never change. But something happened. People grow up, and people grow old. Places changes, and with the change comes the heartache of knowing I can never go back to the times I loved. In a year or so, I will be gone just like many of my neighbors. I will always look back to my years as a child, but the place I remember will not be the silent street whose peace is interrupted by the sounds of construction. It will be the happy, noisy, somewhat strange, but wonderful street I knew as a child.
【小題1】The writer calls up the memory of the street _____________.

It was not a good day today. Everything went wrong. First, I slept late and Mom shouted at me to wake up. When I went to the kitchen for breakfast, there was no cereal. I decided to have some toast instead, but I burned it. I had to eat it anyway because there was no more bread. There was no juice, either. I just had a glass of water.

When I was almost at the bus stop, I realized that I had forgotten my wallet, so I had to go back home and get it. Of course, I missed the bus and had to wait for the next bus.

I was late for school and the teacher told me to stay in the classroom at lunchtime to catch up on（彌補）the schoolwork I had missed.

After lunch, it was the time to give the teacher our homework. I reached into my bag to get it but it wasn’t there. I had left it at home. I was in trouble again.

When I got home, I went straight to my room to catch up on my homework. Mom cooked fish for dinner. She knows I don’t like fish, but she thinks it is good for her son. It was a horrible day. I hope tomorrow will be better.

1.What happened to the writer on this bad day?

2.When did the writer’s bad day begin?

3.What did the writer do after he went home?

4. When you “burn” something, you ___________________.

5.According to the passage, we can know _______________.