Flu (which is short for influenza) is a highly 1 disease, the cause of which is a very tiny organism known as a virus. Several types of flu are 2, depending on the type of virus that causes the disease.When people catch flu, they often 3 of a headache or a sore throat. They usually have a fever and their temperature rises from the normal 37℃ (98.6F) to about 39.5℃ (103F). Sometimes a person has a dry hacking cough and aching joints.Today many doctors 4 drugs that fight the disease. And scientists have also developed vaccines that help to prevent it. If the patient has proper 5, and complete rest in bed, the virus is normally beaten within a week to ten days.How does flu 6 so quickly? When the infected person breathes out, sneezes or coughs, he gives out droplets of moisture in the breath from his mouth or nose. These remain in the air for some time. Flu viruses are present in these droplets. If a person sneezes in a crowed or poorly 7 place, such as a lift, viruses can easily be carried from an infected person to a healthy person. This is known as 8 infection. The healthy person will breathe in the viruses given out by the infected person.Flu can often cause complications in breathing, and general infection of the lung. With elderly and weak people, these added complications often 9 serious results. The virus, if not 10 treated, can weaken the body so that the patient may develop more serious illnesses, such as pneumonia(肺炎) and bronchitis(支气管炎).
A. affection B. aware C. befriend D. blindly E. directly
F. drives G. dumb H. dwell I. enormous J. murder
K. observe L. produce M. sense N. slide O. various
When the job market worsens, many students figure they can't indulge in an English or a history major.
They have to study something that will lead【C1】________to a job. So it is almost inevitable that over the next few years, as labor markets struggle, the humanities will continue their long【C2】________. The labs are more glamorous than the libraries.
However, let me stand up for the history, English and art classes, even in the face of today's economic realities. Studying the humanities improves your ability to read and write. You will have【C3】________power if you are the person in the office who can write a clear and concise memo.
Studying the humanities will give you a familiarity with the language of emotion. In an information economy, many people have the ability to【C4】________a technical innovation. Very few people have the ability to create a great brand. Branding involves the location and arousal of 【C5】________, and you can't do it unless you are conversant in the language of romance.
Finally, and most importantly, studying the humanities helps you【C6】________"The Big Shaggy".
Over the past century or so, people have built【C7】________ systems to help them understand human behavior: economics, political science, game theory and evolutionary psychology. But none completely explain behavior because deep down people have passions and【C8】________that don't lend themselves to systemic modeling. They have yearnings and fears that【C9】________in an inner beast you could call "The Big Shaggy". If you're【C10】________about "The Big Shaggy", you'll probably get eaten by it.
The human nose is an underrated tool. Humans are often thought to be 1 smellers compared with animals, but this is largely because, 2 animals, we stand upright. This means that our noses are limited to perceiving those smells which float through the air, 3 the majority of smells which stick to surfaces. In fact, though, we are extremely sensitive to smells, even if we do not generally realize it. Our noses are capable of detecting human smells even when these are 4 to far below one part in one million.5, some people find that they can smell one type of flower but not another, whereas others are sensitive to the smells of both flowers. This may be because some people do not have the genes necessary to generate particular smell receptors in the nose. These receptors are the cells which sense smells and send 6 to the brain. However, it has been found that even people insensitive to a certain smell at first can suddenly become sensitive to it when 7 to it often enough.The explanation for insensitivity to smell seems to be that brain finds it 8 to keep all smell receptors working all the time but can create new receptors if necessary. This may also explain why we are not usually sensitive to our own smells—we simply do not need to be. We are not aware of the usual smell of our own house but we 9 new smells when we visit someone else's. The brain finds it best to keep smell receptors available for unfamiliar and emergency 10 such as the smell of smoke, which might indicate the danger of fire.
When Barack Obama first ran for president, Emma Hamilton was part of the working class. Ms. Hamilton worked as a loader at a factory in Sumter, a(n) 1 city of 40,000 in east-central South Carolina. In July 2008, however, after seven years on the factory floor, she mangled her hand between two heavy rollers. The 2 was to leave her unable to work.She lost her house three years later, in April 2011. She, her 20-year-old son and her dog moved into her teal Chevy van, where they have been living ever since, 3 metal cans during the day and sleeping in a grocery-store car park at night.The assistant, who 4 Ms. Hamilton in hospital, was named Patricia Dunham. Ms. Dunham works at the Excelsior for 37.5 hours each week. At night she works behind the 5 at a fast-food restaurant. She would earn $32,137.50 for working 61.5 hours a week, 50 weeks a year, before tax withholdings.Ms. Dunham has three school-age children and a husband who is unable to work. Mr. Dunham has a prison 6, and since 2010 he has had periodic seizures that leave him bedridden for days 7.She and her husband are still paying off a $2,100 8 they had to take out in 2010 to bury Mr. Dunham's mother, and car payments are also a concern. Her medical office is within walking distance of her home, and her shift ends late and the streets are not the safest.These are two snapshots of life on the American margins. Some 15% of Americans live below the 9 line, as Ms. Hamilton does. Many more, like Ms. Dunham, have incomes above the poverty line but nevertheless cannot meet their families' basic 10 needs, and there are signs that their number is growing.
In the early 1800's, over 80 percent of the United States labor force was engaged in agriculture. Machinery and 1 technology were not existent. People who were not directly involved in trade often 2 in small cottage industries making handcrafted goods. Blacksmiths, silversmiths, candle makers, and other artisans worked in their homes or barns, relying on help of family.Perhaps no single phenomenon brought more widespread and lasting change to the United States society than the rise of 3. Industrial growth depended on several economic factors. First, industry requires an abundance of natural resources, especially coal, iron ore, water, petroleum, and timber—all readily available on the North American Continent. Second, factories demand a large labor 4. Between the 1870's and the First World War (1914-1918), approximately 23 million immigrants 5 to the United States, settled in cities, and went to work in factories and mines. They also helped build the vast network of canals and railroads that linked important trade centers essential to industrial growth.Factories also offered a stop from the backbreaking work and financial unpredictability associated with farming. Many adults, poor and disillusioned with farm life, were attracted to the cities by promises of 6 employment, regular paychecks, increased access to goods and services. Inventions like mechanized harvesters allowed one farmhand to perform work that 7 had required several, thus making farming capital-intensive rather than labor- intensive.The United States economy underwent a massive transition and the nature of work was permanently altered. Whereas cottage industries 8 on a few highly skilled craft workers who slowly and carefully converted raw materials into finished products from start to finish, factories relied on specialization. While factory work was less creative and more 9, it was also more efficient and allowed mass production of goods at less 10.
(1) Ralph felt a kind of affectionate reverence for the conch (海螺), even though he had fished the thing out of the lagoon himself. He faced the place of assembly and put the conch to his lips. The others were waiting for this and came straight away. The place of assembly filled quickly; Jack, Simon, Maurice, most of the hunters, on Ralph's right; the rest on the left, under the sun. Piggy came and stood outside the triangle. This indicated that he wished to listen, but would not speak; and Piggy intended it as a gesture of disapproval.
(2) "The thing is: We need an assembly. "
(3) No one said anything but the faces turned to Ralph were intent. He flourished the conch. He had learnt as a practical business that fundamental statements like this had to be said at least twice, before everyone understood them. One had to sit, attracting all eyes to the conch, and drop words like heavy round stones among the little groups that crouched or squatted. He was searching his mind for simple words so that even the littluns would understand what the assembly was about.
(4) "We need an assembly. Not for fun. But to put things straight. "
(5) He paused for a moment and automatically pushed back his hair. Piggy tiptoed to the triangle, his ineffectual protest made, and joined the others. Ralph went on.
(6) "We have lots of assemblies. Everybody enjoys speaking and being together. We decide things. But they don't get done. We were going to have water brought from the stream and left in those coconut shells under fresh leaves. So it was, for a few days. Now there's no water. The shells are dry. People drink from the river. "
(7) There was a murmur of assent. He licked his lips.
(8) "Then there's huts. Shelters. "
(9) The murmur swelled again and died away.
(10) "You mostly sleep in shelters. Tonight, except for Samneric up by the fire, you'll all sleep there. Who built the shelters?"
(11) Clamor rose at once. Everyone had built the shelters. Ralph had to wave the conch once more.
(12) "Wait a minute! I mean, who built all three? We all built the first one, four of us the second one, and me'n Simon built the last one over there. That's why it's so tottery (摇摇欲坠的). No. Don't laugh. That shelter might fall down if the rain comes back. We'll need those shelters then. "
(13) Piggy held out his hands for the conch but Ralph shook his head. His speech was planned, point by point. He paused, feeling for his next point. "And another thing. "
(14) Someone called out. "Too many things. "
(15) There came a mutter of agreement. Ralph overrode them.
(16) "And another thing. We nearly set the whole island on fire. And we waste time, rolling rocks, and making little cooking fires. Now I say this and make it a rule, because I'm chief. We won't have a fire anywhere but on the mountain. Ever. "
(17) There was a row immediately. Boys stood up and shouted and Ralph shouted back.
(18) "Because if you want a fire to cook fish or crab, you can jolly well go up the mountain. That way we'll be certain. "
(19) Hands were reaching for the conch in the light of the setting sun. He held on and leapt on the trunk.
(20) "All this I meant to say. Now I've said it. You voted me for chief. Now you do what I say. "
(21) They quieted, slowly, and at last were seated again. Jack stood up, scowling in the gloom, and held out his hands.
(22) "I haven't finished yet. "
(23) "But you've talked and talked!"
(24) "I've got the conch. "
(25) Jack sat down, grumbling.
(26) "Then the last thing. This is what people can talk about. "
(27) He waited till the platform was very still.
(28) "Things are breaking up. I don't understand why. We began well; we were happy. And then—Then people started getting frightened. "
(29) A murmur, almost a moan, rose and passed away. Ralph went on, abruptly.
(30) "But that's littluns' talk. We'll get that straight. We've got to talk about this fear and decide there's nothing in it. I'm frightened myself, sometimes; only that's nonsense! Like bogies. Then, when we've decided, we can start again and be careful about things like the fire. " A picture of three boys walking along the bright beach flitted through his mind. "And be happy. "
(31) Ceremonially, Ralph laid the conch on the trunk beside him as a sign that the speech was over. What sunlight reached them was level.
(1) A conventional teacher's license usually requires a university degree in education plus an unpaid term of practice teaching. This has never made much sense. It excludes bright students who take degrees in other subjects, and might teach those subjects; it is costly and time-consuming for career-switchers, who must wait a year or more before they can enter a classroom; it is so rigid that private-school teachers or university professors with years of experience have to jump through hoops before they can start teaching in a state school. And there is virtually no evidence that it creates better teachers. For all that, it is strongly backed by schools of education, which have a monopoly of teacher-training, and by teachers' unions, whose members make more money when it is artificially hard for others to get into the profession.
(2) Now, some 45 states and the Districts of Columbia offer an "alternative route" to a teacher's license, up from only a handful in the 1980s. Alternative certification (AC) generally allows individuals with a university degree to begin teaching immediately after passing an entrance examination. These recruits, watched over by a mentor teach the subject they studied at university, and take education courses at a sponsoring university while drawing their salaries.
(3) The traditional sort of American teacher is likely to be young, white and female. Alternative certification attracts more men and more non-whites. In Texas, for instance, roughly 90% of public-school teachers are white, but 40% of those who have joined through alternative certification are non-whites. The AC route also draws teachers willing to go where they are most needed. A survey of Troops to Teachers, a program that turns ex-soldiers into public-school teachers ("Proud to serve again"), found that 39% of those taking part are willing to teach in inner-city schools, and 68% in rural areas.
(4) Are they good teachers? Officialdom is reluctant to release the details which might answer that question for certain. But anecdotal evidence suggests they do well. In New Jersey, which has been running this sort of program since 1984, rich districts, which can afford to be choosy, consistently hire more AC teachers than poor districts do. In Houston, Texas, where the Teach of America program (TFA) puts recent university graduates into poor communities as teachers, the most effective teachers are generally the TFA ones. "School principals are our biggest fans," Wendy Kopp, TFA's president, says proudly.
(5) So why not scrap the cumbersome teacher-licensing laws? Frederick Hess, a professor at the University of Virginia, has written a paper for the Progressive Policy Institute arguing that teacher-licensing ought to be stripped to the bare essentials Prospective teachers should be required only to hold a college degree, pass a test of essential skills, and be checked to make sure they do not have a criminal background. Other training is important, argues Mr. Hess, but the market, not state legislators, should decide what that training looks like. This notion of "competitive certification" has drawn favorable attention from the administration.
(1) People in the United States in the nineteenth century were haunted by the prospect that unprecedented change in the nation's economy would bring social chaos. In the years following 1820, after several decades of relative stability, the economy entered a period of sustained and extremely rapid growth that continued to the end of the nineteenth century. Accompanying that growth was a structural change that featured increasing economic diversification and a gradual shift in the nation's labor force from agriculture to manufacturing and other nonagricultural pursuits.
(2) Although the birth rate continued to decline from its high level of the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, the population roughly doubled every generation during the rest of the nineteenth century. As the population grew, its makeup also changed. Massive waves of immigration brought new ethnic groups into the country. Geographic and social mobility—downward as well as upward—touched almost everyone. Local studies indicate that nearly three-quarters of the population—in the North and South, in the emerging cities in the Northeast and in the restless rural counties of the West—changed their residence each decade. As a consequence, historian David Donald has written, "Social atomization affected every segment of society, and it seemed to many people that all the recognized values of orderly civilization were gradually being eroded."
(3) Rapid industrialization and increased geographic mobility in the nineteenth century had special implications for women because these changes tended to magnify social distinctions. As the roles of men and women played in society became more rigidly defined, so did the roles they played in the home. In the context of extreme competitiveness and dizzying social change, the household lost many of its earlier functions and the home came to serve as a haven of tranquility and order. As the size of families decreased, the roles of husband and wife became more clearly differentiated than ever before. In he middle class especially, men participated in the productive economy while women ruled the home and served as the custodians of civility and culture. The intimacy of marriage that was common in earlier periods was rent, and a gulf that at times seemed unbridgeable was created between husbands and wives.
We live in a society where there is a lot of talk about science, but I would say that there are not 5 percent of the people who are equipped with school, including college, to understand scientific 1. We are more ignorant of science than people with 2 education in Western Europe.There are a lot of kids who know everything about computers—how to build them, how to take them 3, and how to write programs for games. But if you ask them to explain the principles of physics that have gone into 4 the computer, they don't have the 5 idea. The failure to understand science leads to such things as the neglect of human creative power. It also gives rise to the 6 of the distinction between science and technology. Lots of people don't 7 between the two. Science is the production of new knowledge that can be applied or not, and technology is the application of knowledge to the production of some products, machinery or the like. The two are really different, and people who have the faculty of one very 8 have that for the other. Science in itself is 9, more or less. But as soon as it can provide technology, it's not 10 harmless. No society has yet learned to forecast the consequences of new technology, which can be enormous. And, therefore, nobody can give a definite answer to the question whether science itself is safe.
Medicine today focuses primarily on drugs and surgery, genes and germs. Yet love and intimacy are at the root of what makes us sick and what makes us well. If a new medication had the same impact, failure to 1 it would be malpractice. Connections with other people affect not only the quality of our lives but also our survival. Study after study finds that people who feel lonely are many times more likely to get cardiovascular(心血管的)disease than those who have a strong sense of connection and2In one study at Yale, men and women who felt the most loved and supported had 3 less blockage in their coronary arteries(冠状动脉). Similarly, researchers from Case Western Reserve University studied almost 10,000 married men and found that those who answered "yes" to this simple question—"Does your wife show you her love?"—had significantly less chest pain. And when researchers at Duke surveyed men and women with heart disease, those who were single and lacked close friends were three times as likely to have died after five years. In all three studies, the 4 effects of love were independent of other risk factors.Awareness is the first step in healing. When we understand the connection between how we live and how long we live, it's easier to make different choices. Instead of 5 the time we spend with friends and family as luxuries, we can see that these relationships are among the most powerful determinants of our well-being and survival.Science is 6 the healing values of love, intimacy, etc.—values that are part of almost all 7 traditions as well as many secular ones. Being unselfish may be the most self-serving approach to life, for it helps free both the giver and 8 from suffering, disease and premature death. Rediscovering the wisdom of love and 9 may help us survive at a time when an 10 isolated world so badly needs it.
We all see and hear about extraordinary people around us and wonder why we can't be more like them. Sometimes we chuck that notion as absurd and unachievable. I would say not so fast. It's not the big things that make someone 1. It's the small things.Things over a period of time have the power to 2 change your life. They become extraordinary by making a difference in someone's life. Here are some of the things extraordinary people do every day:They are open to criticism. Just because you're the boss, doesn't mean you are right every time. It doesn't mean you have the best ideas. Learn to 3 up your ideas or decisions with reason. Use 4 to explain things, not authority. By doing this your decisions might invite criticism, but you will also get an opportunity to improve.They admit their mistakes. My friend's boss made a huge mistake by tying up with an event management company. The whole purpose of the tie-up was to promote his company but it failed 5. Instead of defending his idea and carrying on as if nothing happened, he 6 to the team for not including them in the decision making. It's OK to admit you were wrong. You will not only gain the respect of your team mates, you will also gain 7.They are 8 with compliments. Remember the time, say in school or at work when you worked really hard but got nothing in return. It hurts when your efforts are not 9. So every chance you get to praise someone, do it. A simple, "That was some great work. Keep it up." can go a long way in making the employee feel great about themselves. A compliment can have a positive 10 on their lives.
A.principalB.lubricatingC.yieldD.CrudeE.substituteF.collectingG.surplusH.impracticalI.smeltingJ.gatheringK.produceL.rivaledM.competedN.petroleumO.CoarseAn important new industry, oil refining, grew after the Civil War. 1 oil, or petroleum, a dark, thick ooze from the earth had been known for hundreds of years, but little use had ever been made of it. In thel850s, Samuel M. Kier, a manufacturer in western Pennsylvania, began 2 the oil and refining it into kerosene. Refining, like 3 , is a process of removing impurities from a raw material.Kerosene was used to light lamps. It was a cheap 4 for whale oil, which was becoming harder to get. Soon there was a large demand for kerosene. People began to search for new supplies of 5.The first oil well was drilled by E. L. Drake, a retired railroad conductor. In 1859 he began drilling in Titusville, Pennsylvania. The whole venture of drilling seemed so 6 and foolish that onlookers called it "Drake's Folly". But when he had drilled down about 70 feet (21 meters), Drake struck oil. His well began to 7 20 barrels of crude oil a day.News of Drake's success brought oil prospectors to the scene. By the early 1860s these wildcatters were drilling for "black gold" all over western Pennsylvania. The boom 8 the California gold rush of 1848 in its excitement and Wild West atmosphere. And it brought far more wealth to the prospectors than any gold rush.Petroleum could be refined into many products. For some years kerosene continued to be the 9 one. It was sold in grocery stores and door-to-door. In the1880s and 1890s refiners learned how to make other petroleum products such as waxes and 10 oil. Petroleum was not then used to make gasoline or heating oil.
(1) I had known for a long time that the people around me used a method of communication different from mine; and even before I knew that a deaf child could be taught to speak, I was conscious of dissatisfaction with the means of communication I already possessed. One who is entirely dependent upon the manual alphabet has always a sense of restraint, of narrowness. My thoughts would often rise and beat up like birds against the wind, and I persisted in using my lips and voice. Friends tried to discourage this tendency, fearing lest it would lead to disappointment. But I persisted, and an accident soon occurred which resulted in the breaking down of mis great barrier—I heard the story of Ragnhild Kaata.
(2) In 1890 Mrs. Lamson, who had been one of Laura Bridgman's teachers, and who had just returned from a visit to Norway and Sweden, came to see me, and told me of Ragnhild Kaata, a deaf and blind girl in Norway who had actually been taught to speak. Mrs. Lamson had scarcely finished telling me about this girl's success before I was on fire with eagerness. I resolved that I, too, would learn to speak. I would not rest satisfied until my teacher took me, for advice and assistance, to Miss Sarah Fuller, principal of the Horace Mann School. This lovely, sweet-natured lady offered to teach me herself, and we began the twenty-sixth of March, 1890.
(3) Miss Fuller's method was this: She passed my hand lightly over her face, and let me feel the position of her tongue and lips when she made a sound. I was eager to imitate every motion and in an hour had learned six elements of speech: M, P, A, S, T, I. Miss Fuller gave me eleven lessons in all. I shall never forget the surprise and delight I felt when I uttered my first connected sentence, "It is warm. " True, they were broken and stammering syllables; but they were human speech. My soul, conscious of new strength, came out of bondage, and was reaching through those broken symbols of speech to all knowledge and all faith.
(4) No deaf child who has earnestly tried to speak the words which he has never heard—to come out of the prison of silence, where no tone of love, no song of bird, no strain of music ever pierces the stillness— can forget the thrill of surprise, the joy of discovery which came over him when he uttered his first word. Only such a one can appreciate the eagerness with which I talked to my toys, to stones, trees, birds and dumb animals, or the delight I felt when at my call Mildred ran to me or my dogs obeyed my commands. It is an unspeakable boon to me to be able to speak in winged words that need no interpretation. As I talked, happy thoughts fluttered up out of my words that might perhaps have struggled in vain to escape my fingers.
(5) But it must not be supposed that I could really talk in this short time. I had learned only the elements of speech. Miss Fuller and Miss Sullivan could understand me, but most people would not have understood one word in a hundred. Nor is it true that, after I had learned these elements, I did the rest of the work myself. But for Miss Sullivan's genius, untiring perseverance and devotion, I could not have progressed as far as I have toward natural speech. In the first place, I laboured night and day before I could be understood even by my most intimate friends; in the second place, I needed Miss Sullivan's assistance constantly in my efforts to articulate each sound clearly and to combine all sounds in a thousand ways. Even now she calls my attention every day to mispronounced words.
(6) All teachers of the deaf know what this means, and only they can at all appreciate the peculiar difficulties with which I had to contend. In reading my teacher's lips I was wholly dependent on my fingers: I had to use the sense of touch in catching the vibrations of the throat, the movements of the mouth and the expression of the face; and often this sense was at fault. In such cases I was forced to repeat the words or sentences, sometimes for hours, until I felt the proper ring in my own voice. My work was practice, practice, practice. Discouragement and weariness cast me down frequently; but the next moment the thought that I should soon be at home and show my loved ones what I had accomplished, spurred me on, and I eagerly looked forward to their pleasure in my achievement.
(1) Mamzelle Aurlie possessed a good strong figure, ruddy cheeks, hair that was changing from brown to gray, and a determined eye. She wore a man's hat about the farm, and an old blue army overcoat when it was cold, and sometimes top-boots.
(2) Mamzelle Aurlie had never thought of marrying. She had never been in love. At the age of twenty she had received a proposal, which she had promptly declined, and at the age of fifty she had not yet lived to regret it.
(3) So she was quite alone in the world, except for her dog Ponto, and the fowls, a few cows, a couple of mules, her gun (with which she shot hawks), and her religion.
(4) One morning Mamzelle Aurlie stood upon her gallery, contemplating, with arms akimbo (双手叉腰的), a small band of very small children who, to all intents and purposes, might have fallen from the clouds. They were the children of her nearest neighbor, Odile, who was not such a near neighbor, after all.
(5) The young woman had appeared but five minutes before, accompanied by these four children. In her arms she carried little Lodie; she dragged Ti Nomme by an unwilling hand; while Marcline and Marclette followed with irresolute steps.
(6) Her face was red and disfigured from tears and excitement. She had been summoned to a neighboring parish by the dangerous illness of her mother; her husband was away in Texas—it seemed to her a million miles away; and Valsin was waiting with the mule-cart to drive her to the station.
(7) "It's no question, Mamzelle Aurlie; you jus' got to keep those youngsters fo' me tell I come back. Dieu sait, I wouldn' botha you with ' em if it was any otha way to do! Make ' em mine you, Mamzelle Aurlie; don' spare 'em. Me, there, I'm half crazy between the chil'ren, an' Lon not home, an' maybe not even to fine po' maman alive encore!"—a harrowing possibility which drove Odile to take a final hasty and convulsive leave of her disconsolate family.
(8) She left them crowded into the narrow strip of shade on the porch of the long, low house. Mamzelle Aurlie stood contemplating the children. She looked with a critical eye upon Marcline, who had been left staggering beneath the weight of the chubby Lodie. She surveyed with the same calculating air Marclette mingling her silent tears with the audible grief and rebellion of Ti Nomme. During those few contemplative moments she was collecting herself, determining upon a line of action which should be identical with a line of duty. She began by feeding them.
(9) If Mamzelle Aurlie's responsibilities might have begun and ended there, they could easily have been dismissed; for her larder (食品柜) was amply provided against an emergency of this nature. But little children are not little pigs: They require and demand attentions which were wholly unexpected by Mamzelle Aurlie, and which she was ill prepared to give.
(10) She was, indeed, very inapt in her management of Odile's children during the first few days. How could she know that Marclette always wept when spoken to in a loud and commanding tone of voice? It was a peculiarity of Marclette's. She became acquainted with Ti Nomme's passion for flowers only when he had plucked all the choicest gardenias and pinks for the apparent purpose of critically studying their botanical construction.
(11) Marcline instructed Mamzelle Aurlie to tie Ti Nomme in a chair as their mother would when he's bad. And the chair in which she tied Ti Nomme was roomy and comfortable, and he seized the opportunity to take a nap in it, the afternoon being warm.
(12) At night, when she ordered them one and all to bed as she would have shooed the chickens into the hen-house, they stayed uncomprehending before her. What about the little white nightgowns that had to be shaken? What about the tub of water which had to be brought and set in the middle of the floor, in which the little tired, dusty, sun-browned feet had every one to be washed sweet and clean? And it made Marcline and Marclette laugh merrily—the idea that Mamzelle Aurlie should for a moment have believed that Ti Nomme could fall asleep without being told the story of Croque-mitaine or Loup-garou, or both; or that Lodie could fall asleep at all without being rocked and sung to.
(1) Drought is a slow emergency. It does not swoop down out of the skies like a tornado or pull the earth apart like an earthquake. A drought of the kind the Eastern seaboard in the United States is suffering now, the worst of this century in at least four states, is the product not of one summer's failed rains but of chronic dryness over several seasons—compounded by routine profligacy in our use of water. It is the result of what we have all been taught to call good weather—hot, it is true, but blue skies day after day, mild winters, and little snow. It is also the result of what we have come to call normal water use.
(2) The drought of 1999 has become severe enough to bring about a flurry of administrative actions intended to mitigate its effects on farms, businesses and communities. On Friday, President Clinton ordered to organize timely drought relief. New Jersey's Governor, Christine Todd Whitman, and the Governors of Maryland, Delaware and West Virginia have all imposed mandatory restrictions on water use. Secretary of Agriculture Dan Glickman has declared West Virginia and 33 counties in 5 surrounding states a disaster area. Meanwhile, the Senate approved $7.4 billion in aid to farmers, to which a drought disaster relief package will need to be added.
(3) This is all to the good, and it may also reconcentrate for a moment, our attention on this nation's patterns of water usage. Drought is nothing new, and dealing with it does not require radically new ideas. Many organizations have been set up in recent years in order to monitor drought conditions and respond to them as the long-term events they are. According to the National Drought Mitigation Center nearly every encounter with water scarcity leads to a set of recommendations—essentially the ones invoked in a drought emergency—meant to discourage consumption and encourage recycling. But once the rains begin again and controls are lifted, water use tends to rebound to previous levels. Drought dramatizes an epistemological problem that has real, practical effects. There is something almost intangible about the causes of drought, something as abstract and as forceful as fate. It is hard to tie any single drought unequivocally to the solid evidence of global warming, but that too lurks in many people's minds as the ultimate cause of this summer's drought.
(4) Against such a grand array of forces, it can be hard to imagine how taking a shorter shower or watering the lawn less frequently makes a difference. But individual action—conserving water—is the basis for collective action, and collectively, the residents of drought-stricken states can make an enormous difference in their own welfare, both now, when stream levels are at record lows, and in the future, when rain returns.
(5) Farmers, of course, are forced to take the weather as it comes. Farms, like many other forms of industry, require water for economic survival, which is exactly what is at risk again this year. The reserves of water in reservoirs have been steadily diminishing. So have the economic reserves of American farmers, who find themselves bringing their products to market, if they survive this dry season at all, at depressed prices. Neither of these problems, drought or farm income can be solved with a sudden flurry of attention.
(6) They require long-term commitment and the changing of habits that are so persistent we have come to call them normal.
(1) When a customer fell deathly ill, waitress Jessica Grant called on a skill she never thought she'd need.
(2) The man eating chicken chimichangas at table 25 asked for more tortillas and a Dr Pepper. Jessica Shafer Grant, eight hours into a 12-hour double shift at Abuelo's restaurant in Abilene, Texas, checked on her other customers, then made her way downstairs to the kitchen to place the order. Grant, 29, called "Jay," was well liked at work. The starting shortstop on the restaurant's softball team, she had recently moved to Abilene with her five-year-old daughter and was supplementing the income she earned as a dental assistant by waiting tables on weekends.
(3) In the restaurant's courtyard, Walter Wheat, 74, had just polished off a plate of enchiladas. A former sergeant major in the U.S. Army, the grandfather of four had taken on a job as a substitute teacher at an elementary school. "I've been doing that for ten years," he'd recently quipped. "I've been quitting for nine." Wheat signed his credit card bill and stood up to leave. He dropped his jacket and staggered. His wife, Doris, 67, and the dinner companion grabbed Wheat's arms and brought him carefully to the floor. Then Wheat, who'd survived a heart attack eight years earlier, stopped breathing and stared up vacantly.
(4) Doris fell to her knees and leaned over her husband. "Daddy, breathe! Breathe! " A man who identified himself as a doctor shot up from a nearby table and rushed to Wheat's side. Wheat's skin was pale, and his lips were turning blue. A crowd of patrons gathered as the man placed his fingers on Wheat's neck. He looked up and shook his head. Wheat had no detectable pulse. Doris turned to a nearby waitress. "Help my husband! " she cried. "Please!
(5) Grant was coming down the stairs when she saw a crowd in the courtyard, with Doris sitting on the floor near the center of the group. Then Grant saw Wheat on the ground. She pushed her way in.
(6) "What's going on?" she asked.
(7) "He doesn't have a pulse," the doctor said.
(8) Grant had learned CPR as part of her dental training, though she'd never had to use it before. "Can I give him mouth-to-mouth?" she asked Doris.
(9) "Please! "
(10) The doctor backed away and left the restaurant before anyone got his name. Grant knelt by Wheat's head and bent close to listen for his breath. Then she felt for his pulse. Nothing. He looks pretty bad, she thought. He's not going to make it. She began CPR anyway—I need to do that for him, she thought—alternating between two consecutive bursts of mouth-to-mouth breathing and a series of chest compressions.
(11) Within a couple of minutes, bartender Jeff Womble was at Grant's side. He had been mixing margaritas when the restaurant's manager alerted him to the crisis downstairs. A nursing student, Womble wordlessly took over the chest compressions on Wheat.
(12) Soon the two workers had synchronized their efforts: Grant breathed into Wheat's mouth, then counted as Womble launched into compressions. "One one-thousand, two one-thousand…"
(13) The restaurant was nearly silent. Some patrons prayed softly. Doris twisted a napkin in her hands, repeating to herself, "God, please don't take him from me yet."
(14) Grant and Womble persisted for nearly ten minutes. Then Wheat gasped. Grant sat back and told Womble to stop. "Keep going! " someone shouted. "Why are you stopping?"
(15) But Grant followed her instincts. "Let's not mess with this," she instructed. "He's breathing."
(16) The restaurant erupted into applause.
(17) But Grant was already upstairs delivering tortillas and a Dr Pepper to table 25, apologizing profusely to the patrons for the delay. After she explained the situation, the customers tipped her $100. It took Grant an hour to realize the magnitude of the incident, and she trembled from head to toe. Meanwhile, doctors determined that Wheat had suffered a ruptured aortic aneurysm, which kills 90 percent of its victims. A few days later, Grant and her daughter paid a visit to Wheat in the hospital, where he was recovering from surgery. She hugged him carefully, and Wheat managed a cheerful greeting. "I couldn't believe he was actually talking," Grant says. Doris sat by Wheat's bedside, and everyone in the room held hands, cried, and prayed together. "It was amazing," says Grant. "They treated us like family."
The idea that some groups of people may be more intelligent than others is one of those 1 that dare not speak its name. But Gregory Cochran is prepared to say it anyway. He is that rare bird, a scientist who works independently of any institution. He helped popularize the idea that some diseases not 2 thought to have a bacterial cause were actually infections, which aroused much controversy when it was first suggested.3 he, however, might tremble at the thought of what he is about to do. Together with another two scientists, he is publishing a paper which not only 4 that one group of humanity is more intelligent than the others, but explains the process that has brought this about. The group in question are a particular people 5 central Europe. The process is natural selection.This group generally do well in IQ test, 6 12~15 points above the mean value of 100, and have contributed disproportionately to the intellectual and cultural life of the West, as the careers of their 7, including several world-renowned scientists, affirm. They also suffer more often than most people from a number of nasty genetic diseases, such as breast cancer. These facts, however, have previously been thought 8. The former has been put down to social effects, such as a strong tradition of valuing education. The latter was seen as a(n) 9 of genetic isolation. Dr. Cochran suggests that the intelligence and diseases are intimately linked. His argument is that the unusual history of these people has subjected them to unique evolutionary pressures that have resulted in this 10 state of affairs.
(1) It has long been believed that the smartphones in our pockets are actually making us dumber; but now there is evidence for it.
(2) The constant presence of a mobile phone has a "brain drain" effect that significantly reduces people's intelligence and attention spans, a study has found.
(3) Researchers at the University of Texas discovered that people are worse at conducting tasks and remembering information if they have a smartphone within eyeshot. In two experiments they found phones sitting on a desk or even in a pocket or handbag would distract users and lead to worse test scores even when it was set up not to disturb test subjects.
(4) The effect was measurable even when the phones were switched off, and was worse for those who were deemed more dependent on their mobiles.
(5) "Although these devices have immense potential to improve welfare, their persistent presence may come at a cognitive cost," said Dr. Adrian Ward, the lead author of the study. "Even when people are successful at maintaining sustained attention—as when avoiding the temptation to check their phones—the mere presence of these devices reduces available cognitive capability. "
(6) The researchers tested 520 university students on their memory and intelligence when in the presence of a smartphone to see how it affected them.
(7) Participants were told to complete tests in mathematics, memory and reasoning with their smartphones either on their desk, in their bag or pockets, or in another room, and with alerts turned off so as not to distract students.
(8) Those who had their phones on the desk recorded a 10 percent lower score than those who left them in a different room on operational span tasks, which measures working memory and focus. Those who kept their phones further out of sight in their pockets or their bags scored only slightly better than when phones were placed on desks.
(9) The researchers found that the negative effect of having a phone within eyeshot was significantly greater among those who said they were dependent on their smartphones. Participants who had expressed sympathy with phrases such as "I would have trouble getting through a normal day without my cellphone" and "using my cellphone makes me feel happy" performed as well as others when their phone was in a different room, but worse when it was placed on their desk.
(10) The study also found reaction speeds to be affected, with students who had their phone on the desk responding more sluggishly in high-pace tests.
(11) It even found that phones can even distract users even when they are turned off and placed face down. Those with phones outside of the room "slightly outperformed" those with switched off devices.
(12) The researchers said the effect arises because part of a smartphone users' mind is dedicated to trying to not think about distractions such as whether they have any messages when the handset is in their line of sight.
(13) " We see a linear trend that suggests that as the smartphone becomes more noticeable, participants' available cognitive capacity decreases," said Ward. "Your conscious mind isn't thinking about your smartphone, but that process—the process of requiring yourself not to think about something—uses up some of your limited cognitive resources. It's a brain drain. "
(14) Similar research has previously showed smartphones can have a "butterfly brain effect" on users that can cause mental blunders.
(1) Pageants (露天演出) are usually conceived on a fairly large scale, often under the auspices of some local or civic authority or at any rate in connection with local groups of some kind. This sometimes means that there is an allocation of funds available for the purpose of mounting the production, though unfortunately this will usually be found to be on the meagre side and much ingenuity will have to be used to stretch it so that all performers can be adequately clothed.
(2) Most pageants have a historical flavor as they usually come about through the celebration of the anniversary of some event of historic importance, or the life or death of some local worthy. Research among archives and books in the public library will probably prove very useful and produce some workable ideas which will give the production an especially local flavor. From the first economy will have to be practised because there are usually a great number of people to dress. Leading characters can be considered individually in the same way as when designing for a play; but the main body of the performers will need to be planned in groups and the massed effect must be always borne in mind.
(3) Many pageants take place in daylight in the open air. This is an entirely different problem from designing costumes which are going to be looked at under artificial lighting; for one thing, scenes viewed in the daylight are subject to many more distractions. No longer is everything around cut out by the surrounding darkness, but instead it is very easy to be aware of disturbing movement in the audience or behind the performers. Very theatrically conceived clothes do not always look their best when seen in a daylight setting of trees, verdant lawns and old ivy-covered walls; the same goes for costumes being worn in front of the mellow colors of stately homes. The location needs to be studied and then a decision can be made as to what kinds of colors and textures will harmonize best with the surroundings and conditions and then to carry this out as far as possible on the funds available.
(4) If money is available to dress the performers without recourse to their own help in the provision of items, it is best to arrange for all the cutting and pinning together of the costumes to be done by one or two experienced people than to be given out to the groups and individuals for completion. When there is little or no money at all, the garments need to be reduced to the basic necessities. Cloaks and shawls become invaluable, sheets and large bath towels and bath sheets are admirable for draping. Unwanted curtains and bedspreads can be cut to make tunics, robes and skirts. These are particularly valuable if they are of heavy fabrics, such as velvet or chenille.
(5) Colors should be massed together so that there are contrasting groups of dark and light, this will be found to help the visual result substantially. Crowds of people gathered together in a jumble of colors will be found to look quite purposeless and will lack dramatic impact.
(1) Culture is only a relatively recent invention in the history of the human species. It seems that we first developed the ability to acquire knowledge, beliefs, and practices from others about 160,000 to 200,000 years ago. Our predecessors roamed the African savannah for at least a million years as hunter- gatherers in small family groups, whereas our more recent ancestors homo sapiens sapiens lived in larger tribal societies where people worked together. In these larger groups, they developed common systems of customs, beliefs, and cultural identities, and learnt new skills, technologies, and languages from each other. Broadly defined as the evolution of "culture", this enabled humans to cooperate with and learn from people from outside their immediate family group. Culture gave humans the critical advantage they needed to survive and expand out across the world, becoming the dominant species on the planet.
(2) Culture has become our species' strategy for survival, and our genes have adapted to make best use of their new social environment. In other words, we are all "wired" for culture, inheriting something similar to a software operating system which enables us to acquire cultural identities and to cooperate and thrive in social environments. This is unique to the human species, and influences every aspect of our behaviour and psychology. It's what makes us all truly social animals.
(3) So why, if culture and language are so fundamental to our survival, do we have so many separate ones? It's certainly not a case of geographical distance. In the tribes of Papua New Guinea, a different language is spoken every few miles. New Guinea, just one island in the Australasian archipelago, is home to 800—or some 15%—of the world's languages. There are no obvious explanations for this in terms of political barriers. In fact, it appears that these tribes deliberately alter their languages to maintain their separation from their neighbours. Under this hypothesis, linguistic diversity is a result of our social psychology, which values and preserves distinct languages as a key marker of the cultural identity we rely upon for survival. Separate languages also act as a form of basic intellectual property protection, reducing the ability from those outside of the group to steal the ideas you are communicating within it. Our enduring linguistic diversity reflects one key lesson from the cultural history of evolution: the inherent and unique propensity (倾向) of humans to form separate social and cultural identities.
(4) This brings us to an inherent tension. Our cultural instincts have given us an unmatched ability to get along with each other. They drive us to do all kinds of things not found in the animal kingdom towards those to whom we are not related—to be charitable to strangers, to look after old people and the sick, to support our local sports team, and to work together to innovate and create knowledge, technology, and spectacular works of art. However, these instincts are a double-edged sword linked to a much darker side of our nature. For most of their existence humans have faced a continuous struggle to survive, with competition from other humans one of the main threats. As a result, these societies developed hostile attitudes to outsiders, which has left a legacy on our behaviour today, in the form of xenophobia, parochialism, racism and, in some cases, a drive to carry out violence and war. The same instinct can also drive violence against group members who are seen to violate group norms. This is because their actions are seen as threatening the sense of togetherness on which the group's survival depends.
(5) Our cultural psychology, developed over millennia living in (relatively) distinct cultural groups with shared values and allegiances, is adapting to the new age of globalization and the emergence of multicultural societies. On the surface, such societies have a lower sense of cultural relatedness than has been true for the much of humans' evolutionary history. This puts under strain social rules which have been developed for different cultures. To maintain cohesion these societies will depend upon the clear enforcement of cultural or democratically derived rules. And they will face pressure as individualistic and self-interested behaviour grows and groups seek to break away from the whole. However, our unique social talent for cooperation with others will ultimately overcome our narrow instincts and find new ways to build a sense of shared culture and purpose.
