染雾高一必修英语课文原文 篇一
The Gift of the Magi
One dollar and eighty-seven cents. That was all. And sixty cents of it was in pennies. Pennies saved one and two at a time by bulldozing the grocer and the vegetable man and the butcher until one's cheeks burned with the silent imputation of parsimony that such close dealing implied. Three times Della counted it. One dollar and eighty-seven cents. And the next day would be Christmas.
There was clearly nothing to do but flop down on the shabby little couch and howl. So Della did it. Which instigates the moral reflection that life is made up of sobs, sniffles, and smiles, with sniffles predominating.
While the mistress of the home is gradually subsiding from the first stage to the second, take a look at the home. A furnished flat at $8 per week. It did not exactly beggar description, but it certainly had that word on the lookout for the mendicancy squad.
In the vestibule below was a letter-box into which no letter would go, and an electric button from which no mortal finger could coax a ring. Also appertaining thereunto was a card bearing the name "Mr. James Dillingham Young."
The "Dillingham" had been flung to the breeze during a former period of prosperity when its possessor was being paid $30 per week. Now, when the income was shrunk to $20, the letters of "Dillingham" looked blurred, as though they were thinking seriously of contracting to a modest and unassuming D. But whenever Mr. James Dillingham Young came home and reached his flat above, he was called "Jim" and greatly hugged by Mrs. James Dillingham Young, already introduced to you as Della. Which is all very good.
Della finished her cry and attended to her cheeks with the powder rag. She stood by the window and looked out dully at a gray cat walking a gray fence in a gray backyard. Tomorrow would be Christmas Day, and she had only $1.87 with which to buy Jim a present. She had been saving every penny she could for months, with this result. Twenty dollars a week doesn't go far. Expenses had been greater than she had calculated. They always are. Only $1.87 to buy a present for Jim. Her Jim. Many a happy hour she had spent planning for something nice for him. Something fine and rare and sterling—something just a little bit near to being worthy of the honor of being owned by Jim.
There was a pier-glass between the windows of the room. Perhaps you have seen a pier-glass in an $8 flat. A very thin and very agile person may, by observing his reflection in a rapid sequence of longitudinal strips, obtain a fairly accurate conception of his looks. Della, being slender, had mastered the art.
Suddenly she whirled from the window and stood before the glass. Her eyes were shining brilliantly, but her face had lost its color within twenty seconds. Rapidly she pulled down her hair and let it fall to its full length.
Now, there were two possessions of the James Dillingham Youngs in which they both took a mighty pride. One was Jim's gold watch that had been his father's and his grandfather's. The other was Della's hair. Had the Queen of Sheba lived in the flat across the airshaft, Della would have let her hair hang out the window some day to dry just to depreciate Her Majesty's jewels and gifts. Had King Solomon been the janitor, with all his treasures piled up in the basement, Jim would have pulled out his watch every time he passed, just to see him pluck at his beard from envy.
So now Della's beautiful hair fell about her, rippling and shining like a cascade of brown waters. It reached below her knee and made itself almost a garment for her. And then she did it up again nervously and quickly. Once she faltered for a minute and stood still while a tear or two splashed on the worn red carpet.
On went her old brown jacket; on went her old brown hat. With a whirl of skirts and with the brilliant sparkle still in her eyes, she fluttered out the door and down the stairs to the street.
Where she stopped the sign read: "Mne. Sofronie. Hair Goods of All Kinds." One flight up Della ran, and collected herself, panting. Madame, large, too white, chilly, hardly looked the "Sofronie."
"Will you buy my hair?" asked Della.
"I buy hair," said Madame. "Take yer hat off and let's have a sight at the looks of it."
Down rippled the brown cascade.
"Twenty dollars," said Madame, lifting the mass with a practised hand.
"Give it to me quick," said Della.
Oh, and the next two hours tripped by on rosy wings. Forget the hashed metaphor. She was ransacking the stores for Jim's present.
She found it at last. It surely had been made for Jim and no one else. There was no other like it in any of the stores, and she had turned all of them inside out. It was a platinum fob chain simple and chaste in design, properly proclaiming its value by substance alone and not by meretricious ornamentation—as all good things should do. It was even worthy of The Watch. As soon as she saw it, she knew that it must be Jim's. It was like him. Quietness and value—the description applied to both.
Twenty-one dollars they took from her for it, and she hurried home with the 78 cents. With that chain on his watch Jim might be properly anxious about the time in any company. Grand as the watch was, he sometimes looked at it on the sly on account of the old leather strap that he used in place of a chain.
When Della reached home her intoxication gave way a little to prudence and reason. She got out her curling irons and lighted the gas and went to work repairing the ravages made by generosity added to love. Which is always a tremendous task, dear friends—a mammoth task.
Within forty minutes her head was covered with tiny, close-lying curls that made her look wonderfully like a truant schoolboy. She looked at her reflection in the mirror long, carefully, and critically.
"If Jim doesn't kill me," she said to herself, "before he takes a second look at me, he'll say I look like a Coney Island chorus girl. But what could I do—oh! what could I do with a dollar and eighty-seven cents?"
At 7 o'clock the coffee was made and the frying-pan was on the back of the stove hot and ready to cook the chops.
Jim was never late. Della doubled the fob chain in her hand and sat on the corner of the table near the door that he always entered. Then she heard his step on the stair away down on the first flight, and she turned white for just a moment. She had a habit of saying little silent prayers about the simplest everyday things, and now she whispered: "Please God, make him think I am still pretty."
The door opened and Jim stepped in and closed it. He looked thin and very serious. Poor fellow, he was only twenty-two—and to be burdened with a family! He needed a new overcoat and he was without gloves.
Jim stopped inside the door, as immovable as a setter at the scent of quail. His eyes were fixed upon Della, and there was an expression in them that she could not read, and it terrified her. It was not anger, nor surprise, nor disapproval, nor horror, nor any of the sentiments that she had been prepared for. He simply stared at her fixedly with that peculiar expression on his face.
Della wriggled off the table and went for him.
"Jim, darling," she cried, "don't look at me that way. I had my hair cut off and sold it because I couldn't have lived through Christmas without giving you a present. It'll grow out again—you won't mind, will you? I just had to do it. My hair grows awfully fast. Say 'Merry Christmas!' Jim, and let's be happy. You don't know what a nice—what a beautiful, nice gift I've got for you."
"You've cut off your hair?" asked Jim, laboriously, as if he had not arrived at that patent fact yet even after the hardest mental labor.
"Cut it off and sold it," said Della. "Don't you like me just as well, anyhow? I'm me without my hair, ain't I?"
Jim looked about the room curiously.
"You say your hair is gone?" he said, with an air almost of idiocy.
"You needn't look for it," said Della. "It's sold, I tell you—sold and gone, too. It's Christmas Eve, boy. Be good to me, for it went for you. Maybe the hairs of my head were numbered," she went on with sudden serious sweetness, "but nobody could ever count my love for you. Shall I put the chops on, Jim?"
Out of his trance Jim seemed quickly to wake. He enfolded his Della. For ten seconds, let us regard with discreet scrutiny some inconsequential object in the other direction. Eight dollars a week or a million a year—what is the difference? A mathematician or a wit would give you the wrong answer. The magi brought valuable gifts, but that was not among them. This dark assertion will be illuminated later on.
Jim drew a package from his overcoat pocket and threw it upon the table.
"Don't make any mistake, Dell," he said, "about me. I don't think there's anything in the way of a haircut or a shave or a shampoo that could make me like my girl any less. But if you'll unwrap that package, you may see why you had me going a while at first."
White fingers and nimble tore at the string and paper. And then an ecstatic scream of joy; and then, alas! a quick feminine change to hysterical tears and wails, necessitating the immediate employment of all the comforting powers of the lord of the flat.
For there lay The Combs—the set of combs, side and back, that Della had worshipped long in a Broadway window. Beautiful combs, pure tortoise-shell, with jewelled rims—just the shade to wear in the beautiful vanished hair. They were expensive combs, she knew, and her heart had simply craved and yearned over them without the least hope of possession. And now, they were hers, but the tresses that should have adorned the coveted adornments were gone.
But she hugged them to her bosom, and at length she was able to look up with dim eyes and a smile and say: "My hair grows so fast, Jim!"
And then Della leaped up like a little singed cat and cried, "Oh, oh!"
Jim had not yet seen his beautiful present. She held it out to him eagerly upon her open palm. The dull precious metal seemed to flash with a reflection of her bright and ardent spirit.
"Isn't it a dandy, Jim? I hunted all over town to find it. You'll have to look at the time a hundred times a day now. Give me your watch. I want to see how it looks on it."
Instead of obeying, Jim tumbled down on the couch and put his hands under the back of his head and smiled.
"Dell," said he, "let's put our Christmas presents away and keep 'em a while. They're too nice to use just at present. I sold the watch to get the money to buy your combs. And now suppose you put the chops on."
The magi, as you know, were wise men—wonderfully wise men—who brought gifts to the Babe in the manger. They invented the art of giving Christmas presents. Being wise, their gifts were no doubt wise ones, possibly bearing the privilege of exchange in case of duplication. And here I have lamely related to you the uneventful chronicle of two foolish children in a flat who most unwisely sacrificed for each other the greatest treasures of their house. But in a last word to the wise of these days let it be said that of all who give gifts these two were the wisest. Of all who give and receive gifts, such as they are wisest. Everywhere they are wisest. They are the magi.
高一必修英语课文原文 篇二
The Last Leaf
In a little district west of Washington Square, the streets have run crazy and broken themselves into small strips called "places." These "places" make strange angles and curves. One Street crosses itself a time or two. An artist once discovered a valuable possibility in this street. Suppose a collector with a bill for paints, paper, and canvas should, in traversing this route, suddenly meet himself coming back, without a cent having been paid on account!
So, to quaint old Greenwich Village, the art people soon came prowling, hunting for north windows and eighteenth-century gables and Dutch attics and low rents. Then they imported some pewter mugs and a chafing dish or two from Sixth Avenue, and became a "colony."
At the top of a squatty, three-story brick Sue and Johnsy had their studio. "Johnsy" was familiar for Joanna. One was from Maine; the other from California. They had met at the table d'h?te of an Eighth Street "Delmonico's," and found their tastes in art, chicory salad, and bishop sleeves so congenial that the joint studio resulted.
That was in May. In November a cold, unseen stranger, whom the doctors called Pneumonia, stalked about the colony, touching one here and there with his icy fingers. Over on the east side this ravager strode boldly, smiting his victims by scores, but his feet trod slowly through the maze of the narrow and moss-grown "places."
Mr. Pneumonia was not what you would call a chivalric old gentleman. A mite of a little woman with blood thinned by California zephyrs was hardly fair game for the red-fisted, short-breathed old duffer. But Johnsy he smote; and she lay, scarcely moving, on her painted iron bedstead, looking through the small Dutch window-panes at the blank side of the next brick house.
One morning the busy doctor invited Sue into the hallway with a shaggy, gray eyebrow.
"She has one chance in—let us say ten," he said, as he shook down the mercury in his clinical thermometer. "And that chance is for her to want to live. This way people have of lining-u on the side of the undertaker makes the entire pharmacopoeia look silly. Your little lady has made up her mind that she's not going to get well. Has she anything on her mind?"
"She—she wanted to paint the Bay of Naples some day," said Sue.
"Paint?—bosh! Has she anything on her mind worth thinking twice—a man, for instance?"
"A man?" said Sue, with a jew's-harp twang in her voice. "Is a man worth— but, no, doctor; there is nothing of the kind."
"Well, it is the weakness, then," said the doctor. "I will do all that science, so far as it may filter through my efforts, can accomplish. But whenever my patient begins to count the carriages in her funeral procession I subtract 50 per cent from the curative power of medicines. If you will get her to ask one question about the new winter styles in cloak sleeves I will promise you a one-in-five chance for her, instead of one in ten."
After the doctor had gone, Sue went into the workroom and cried a Japanese napkin to a pulp. Then she swaggered into Johnsy's room with her drawing-board, whistling ragtime.
Johnsy lay, scarcely making a murmur under the bedclothes, with her face toward the window. Sue stopped whistling, thinking she was asleep.
She arranged her board and began a pen-and-ink drawing to illustrate a magazine story. Young artists must pave their way to Art by drawing pictures for magazine stories that young authors write to pave their way to Literature.
As Sue was sketching a pair of elegant horseshow riding trousers and a monocle on the figure of the hero, an Idaho cowboy, she 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 solicitously out of the window. What was there to count? There was only a bare, dreary yard to be seen, and the blank side of the brick house twenty feet away. An old, old ivy vine, gnarled and decayed at the roots, climbed half way up the brick wall. The cold breath of autumn had stricken its leaves from the vine until its skeleton branches clung, almost bare, to the crumbling bricks.
"What is it, dear?" asked Sue.
"Six," said Johnsy, in almost a whisper. "They're falling faster now. Three days ago there were almost a hundred. It made my head ache to count them. But now it's easy. There goes another one. There are only five left now."
"Five what, dear? Tell your Sudie."
"Leaves. On the ivy vine. 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 nonsense," complained Sue, with magnificent scorn. "What have old ivy leaves to do with your getting well? And you used to love that vine so, you naughty girl. Don't be a goosey. Why, the doctor told me this morning that your chances for getting well real soon were—let's see exactly what he said— he said the chances were ten to one! Why, that's almost as good a chance as we have in New York when we ride on the street cars or walk past a new building. Try to take some broth now, and let Sudie go back to her drawing, so she can sell the editor man with it, and buy port wine for her sick child, and pork chops for her greedy self."
"You needn't think of me, dear. I'm all right. But what would I do with my drawing, I wonder," and she drew a stick figure of J. P. in the margins of her paper.
"Tell me as soon as you have finished," said Johnsy, closing her eyes, and lying white and still as a fallen statue.
Sue sat down at the foot of the bed.
At the end of a long hour she heard a low sound, which she at first thought was the rustling of the ivy leaves. Then she heard a faint, scratching at the door. She went to it and opened it, and there was Johnsy with a big, round-bottomed basket.
"Where's the old man?" asked Sue.
"Upstairs. Dr. Welling gave him to me. He was sitting by the ivy vine.
高一必修英语课文原文 篇三
高一必修英语课文原文
在英语翻译过程中，理解是表达的前提，不能正确理解就谈不上正确表达。因此，首先要略读全文，从整体上把握整篇文章的内容，并理解划线部分与文章其他部分之间的语法与逻辑关系，这样才能更好地翻译文章。下面是高一必修英语课文原文，欢迎参考阅读！
U1
Hello Tony, what are you doing? Hello, Daming. I'm doing a model of space station. What do you think?
Very good! Is this your homework for your cosmos travel? I haven't started yet.
Don't be nervous, Ms. J will be there next week. Have you heard the latest news? Some scientists have sent a spaceship to Mars. It will take a few months to get there. Has the spaceship arrived? Yes, it is, that's the reason for the news. Has the astronauts found life on Mars? No, no, no. There are no astronauts on the spaceship. But the astronauts have been to the moon.
But no one has ever been there recently. But many astronauts have been working at the space station, and they travel between the earth and space in a spaceship.
You know a lot about cosmic travel. Can I show your space station model to my parents?
But I heard they went to Shanghai on a business trip. Oh, they come back this evening. I want to show them to them.
Well, you can take it away, but bring it back tomorrow.
U2
Scientists believe that millions of years ago there had been life on the earth. In any case, we can't find life on other planets. Isn't it?
The earth is a planet and it revolves around the sun. The other 7 planets also revolve around the sun. There is no air in one of them, so people and creatures can't grow. The sun and his stars are called the solar system. The solar system is a small part of our galaxy.
We can see stars in the evening, the other stars in the solar system. There are more than 200 million stars in our galaxy, called the Milky way, and our sun is one of them. But scientists have found other galaxies in the universe. They are far away from us and their light will take many years to arrive at us. It's hard to imagine how big the universe is.
Scientists have sent a spaceship to other planets in our solar system, and some of the spacecraft have also been to the solar system. In any case, no one has found any life in space. But no one sends messages to other planets? Do they try to send messages to us? So many stars are in the universe, are we alone? Is there life in space? We don't know yet.
U3
Do you like that zoo? Like it! I've seen the Panda at last - it's so exciting! It's interesting to know about the Wolong panda reserve. But it's sad to think of those endangered animals. It makes me angry! It's amazing to hear that so many animals are in danger. We need to better protect them. It's just too bad to catch whales or elephants to get their meat. It's true, but it's hard to stop it. Many animals have no place to live - our villages and farms are getting bigger and bigger, and we are taking over the land and forests that they live on. Also, their water is often undrinkable because we are polluting. It's awful! We're going to help animals live in a peaceful environment. But a lot of people don't think about it. What can we do? Think about what we can do to save them.
U4
Pandas are one of the most endangered animals, and now there are about 1000 pandas living in the nature reserve. The zoo and the research center take care of about 160 pandas, and scientists are studying how they live and how to make more babies born in the zoo.
Pandas live in forests and mountains in Southwest China. They mainly eat bamboo, and every panda needs to eat a lot of bamboo every day. For many reasons, the area of bamboo becomes smaller and smaller, so the panda can survive less and less. Pandas can't have many babies, and baby pandas often die, and the situation is becoming very serious.
Our government is trying to protect pandas, there are 30 extra nature reserves to protect pandas, but this is not enough. The government has made new plans to help the pandas, the nature reserves will become bigger and the bamboos will get better. The pandas will then have more enough food to eat, more enough to live, and the pandas born in the zoo will be able to return to the nature reserve.
原文翻译：
u1
你好tony，你在干什么? 你好daming，我正在做一个宇宙空间站的模型，你觉得怎么样?
非常好!这是你的宇宙旅行的家庭作业么?我还没开始呢。
别紧张，J女士下周才要呢，你听说最新的消息了么?一些科学家已经向火星发送了一艘宇宙飞船，它将要花费几个月的时间到那。飞船已经到了么?是的，到了，那就是成为消息的'原因。宇航员已经在火星上发现生命了么?不，没有。在宇宙飞船上没有宇航员。但是宇航员已经到过月球了。
但是最近没有人到过。但是许多宇航员已经在宇宙空间站上工作，他们乘坐宇宙飞船往返于地球和太空之间，
你知道许多关于宇宙旅行的事情，我能把你的宇宙空间站的模型展示给我的父母看么?
但是我听说他们去上海出差了。 噢，他们这个晚上回来，我想要把这些展示给他们看
好吧，你能带走它，但是明天要带回来。
u2
科学家们认为几百万年前在地球上有过生命。无论如何，我们还不能在其他行星上找到生命。不是么?
地球是一个行星并且它围绕太阳转动。其他7个行星也围着太阳转。他们中没有一个环境里有空气，所以人们和生物不能生长。太阳和他的星星们被称作太阳系。太阳系是我们星系中的一小部分。
我们能在晚上看到星星的是太阳系中的其他星星。有多于200亿万颗星星在我们的星系中，称作银河，我们的太阳是其中之一。 但是科学家们曾在宇宙中发现了其他星系。他们离我们很远并且他们的光要旅行很多年才到达我们。很难想象宇宙有多大。
科学家曾送飞船去在我们太阳系的其他行星，并且一些飞船还去过太阳系以外。无论如何，还没有人在太空中发现任何生命。 但是没人从其他行星上发信息给我们?他们试图发信息给我们么?有如此多的星星在宇宙中，我们是孤独的么，是否有生命在太空中?我们还不知道。
u3
你喜欢那个动物园吗?喜欢!我终于见到熊猫了--太激动了!了解一些关于卧龙熊猫保护区的情况很有意思。可是一想到那些濒危动物就令人伤心。太让我气愤了!令人吃惊的是听到那么多动物都处于濒危状态。我们需要更好地保护它们。捕杀鲸或象来获取它们的肉简直太不应该了。确实如此，但要制止却很难。很多动物无处生存--我们的村庄和农场变得越来越大，我们正在占据它们(赖以生存)的土地和森林。还有，它们的水常常不宜饮用--因为我们给污染了。真是太糟糕了!我们要帮助动物生活在安宁的环境里。但很多人却不考虑这些。我们到底能做些什么呢?想一想为了挽救它们，我们能做些什么。。。
u4
熊猫是最濒危动物之一，现在大约有1000只熊猫住在自然保护区。动物园和研究中心照顾大约160只大熊猫，科学家正在研究它们怎么生活，怎么让更多的熊猫宝宝在动物园出生。
熊猫住在中国西南的森林和山里，它们主要以竹子为食，每只熊猫每天都需要吃很多竹子，因为许多原因竹子的区域变的越来越小，所以熊猫能够生存的地方也越来越少。熊猫不能有许多的宝宝，熊猫宝宝经常死亡，这种情况正在变得非常严重。
我们的政府正在努力保护熊猫，有多余30个自然保护区去保护熊猫，但是这还不够，政府已经制定新计划去帮助熊猫，自然保护区将变得更大，竹子将变得更好。然后熊猫将会有更足够的食物去吃，更足够的地方去生存，在动物园出生的熊猫能够回到自然保护区里居住。
