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教你怎么听3 Lesson23

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https://online2.tingclass.net/lesson/shi0529/0008/8082/23.mp3
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UNIT TWENTY-THREE


Story 3
1.Look at the question briefly and listen to the story. Then circle the correct answer.
The Umbrella Man
Yesterday afternoon,
my mother took me up to London to see the dentist.
He found one hole.
It was in a back tooth and he filled it without hurting me too much.
After that, we went to a cafe.
I had a banana split and my mother had a cup of coffee.
By the time we got up to leave, it was about six o'clock.
When we came out of the cafe it had started to rain.
"We must get a taxi", my mother said.
We were wearing ordinary hats and coats, and it was raining quite hard.
Just then, a man came up to us.
He was a small man and he was pretty old,
probably seventy or more.
He raised his hat politely and said to my mother.
"Excuse me. I do hope you will excuse me ..."
He had a fine white moustache and bushy white eyebrows and a wrinkly pink face.
He was sheltering under an umbrella which he held high over his head.
"Yes'?" my mother said, very cool and distant.
"I wonder if I could ask a small favour of you", he said.
"It is only a very small favour.
I saw my mother looking at him suspiciously.
With strange men, she has a golden rule which says,
"the nicer the man seems to be, the more suspicious you must become."
This little old man was particularly nice.
He was polite.
He was well- spoken. He was well-dressed.
He was a real gentleman.
The reason I knew he was a gentleman was because of his shoes.
"You can always spot a gentleman by the shoes he wears",
was another of my mother's favourite sayings.
This man had beautiful brown shoes.
"The truth of the matter is," the little man was saying,
"I've got myself into a bit of a scyape.
I need some help. Not much, I assure you.
It's almost nothing, in fact, but I do need it.
You see, madam, old people like me often become terribly forgetful ...'
My mother's chin was up and she was stating down at him along the full length of her nose.
The little man shifted his umbrella from one hand to the other.
"I've never forgotten it before', he said.
"You've never forgotten what? ' my mother asked sternly.
"My wallet," he said. "I must have left it in my other jacket.
Isn't that the silliest thing to do.'?"
"Are you asking me to give you money?" my mother said.
"Oh, good gracious me, no!" he cried.
"Heaven forbid I should ever do that!"
"Then what are you asking?" my mother said.
"Do hurry up. We're getting soaked to the skin standing here,"
"I know you are," he said.
"And that is why I'm offering you this umbrella of mine to protect you,
and 'to keep forever, if...if only..."
"If only what?" my mother said.
"If only you would give me in return a pound for my taxi-fare just to get me home."
My mother was stillsuspicious.
"If you had no money in the first place," she said,
"then how did you get here?"
"I walked", he answered.
"Every day I go for a lovely long walk and then I summon a taxi to take me home.
I do it every day of the year."
"Why don't you walk home now?" my mother asked.
"Oh, I wish I could," he said. "I do wish I could.
But I don't think I could manage it on these silly old legs of mine.
I've gone too far already."
My mother stood there chewing her lower lip.
she was beginning to melt a bit, I could see that.
And the idea of getting an umbrella to shelter under must have tempted her a good deal.
"It's a lovely umbrella," the little man said.
"So I've noticed", my mother said.
"It's silk," he said.
"I can see that."
"Then why don't you take it, madam," he said.
"It cost me over twenty pounds, I promise you.
But that's of no importance so long as I can get home and rest these old legs of mine."
I saw my mother's hand feeling for the clasp on her purse.
Then she said to the little man,
"I don't think it's quite right thatI should take a silk umbrella from you worth twenty pounds.
I think I'd just better give you the taxi-fare and be done with it."
"No,no.no!"
 he cried. "It's out of the question! I wouldn't dream of it!
Not in a million years'!
I would never accept money from you like that!
Take the umbrella, dear lady', and keep the rain off your shoulders!"
She fished into her purse and took out a pound note.
She held it out to the little man.
He took it and handed her the umbrella.
He pocketed the pound, raised his hat,
gave a quick bow from the waist,and said,
"Thank you, madam, thank you."
Then he was gone.
We watched the little man as he dodged nimbly in and out of the traffic.
When he reached the other side on the street, he turned left, walking very fast.
"He doesn't look very tired to me, does he to you, mummy?"
My mother didn't answer.
"He doesn't look as though he's trying to get a taxi, either," I said.
"He's up to something," my mother said, stony-faced.
"But what ?"
"I don't know," my mother snapped.
"But I'm going to find out. Come with me."
She took my ann and we crossed the street together.
Then we turned left.
We came to the comer and turned right.
The little man was about twenty yards ahead of us.
He was scuttling along like a rabbit and we had to walk fast to keep up with him.
The rain was pelting down harder than ever now
and I could see it dripping from the brim of his hat onto his shoulders.
At the next crossing, the little man turned right again.
Then he turned left.
Then right.
"He went in that door!" my mother said. "I saw him!
Into that house! Great heavens, it's a pub!"
We stood huddled together outside the pub windows.
The mom we were looking into was full of people and cigarette smoke,
and our little man was in the middle of it all.
He was now without his hat or coat,
and he was edging his way through the crowd towards the bar.
When he reached it, he placed beth hands on the bar itself and spoke to the barman.
I saw his lips moving as he gave his order.
The barman turned away from him for a few seconds and came back
with a smallish rambler filled to the brim with light brown liquid.
The little man placed a pound note on the counter.
"That's my pound!" my mother hissed, "By golly, he's got a nerve!"
"What's in the glass?" I asked.
"Whisky," my mother said.
The little man picked up the glass and put it to his lips.
He tilted it gently.
Then he tilted it higher...and higher...and higher...
and very soon all the whisky had disappeared down his throat in one long pour.
Slowly, he turned away from the bar and edged back through the crowd to
where his hat and coat were hanging.
Heput on his hat. He put on his coat.
Then, in a mariner so superbly cool and casual
that you hardly noticed anything at all, he lifted from the coat-rack
one of the many wet umbrellas hanging there, and off he went.
"So that's his little game!" my mother said.
We followed him back to the main street where we had first met him,
and we watched him as he proceeded,
with no trouble at all, to exchange his new umbrella for another pound note.
This time it was with a tall thin fellow who didn't even have a coat or hat.
And as soon as the transaction was completed,
our little man trotted off down the street and was lost in the crowd.
But this time he went in the opposite direction.
"You see how clever he is!" my mother said.
"He never goes to the same pub twice!"
"He could go on doing this all night," I said.
"Yes," my mother said, "Of course.
But I'll bet he prays like mad for rainy days."

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