路小佳路过
经典的英语文章适合我们闲时练习英语阅读，下面我为大家带来，希望大家喜欢! 篇一： I am an art student and I paint a lot of pictures. Many people pretend that they understand modern art. They always tell you what a picture is 'about'. Of course, many pictures are not 'about' anything. They are just pretty patterns. We like them in the same way that we like pretty curtain material. I think that young children often appreciate modern pictures better than anyone else. They notice more. My sister is only seven, but she always tells me whether my pictures are good or not. She came into my room yesterday. 'What are you doing?' she asked. 'I'm hanging this picture on the wall,' I answered. 'It's a new one. Do you like it?' She looked at it critically for a moment. 'It's all right,' she said, 'but isn't it upside down?' I looked at it again. She was right! It was! 我是个学艺术的学生，画了很多画。有很多人装成很懂现代艺术。他们总是告诉你一幅画的。当然，有很多画是什么意思也没有的。他们只不过是漂亮的图案。我们喜欢它们就像我们喜欢漂亮的窗帘布。我觉得小孩子们往往比任何人都更能欣赏现代绘画。他们观察到的东西更多。我的妹妹只有七岁，但她总能说出我的画是好还是不好。昨天她到我房里来了。"你干什么呢。她问。"我把这幅画挂到墙上，我回答。"这是一个新的。你喜欢吗。她用挑剔的目光一会儿。"这都是正确的，"她说，"但这不是颠倒的吗?"我又看。她是对的!这是! 篇二： Late in the afternoon, the boys put up their tent in the middle of a field. As soon as this was done, they cooked a meal over an open fire. They were all hungry and the food *** elled good. After a wonderful meal, they told stories and sang songs by the campfire. But some time later it began to rain. The boys felt tired so they put out the fire and crept into their tent. Their sleeping bags were warm and fortable, so they all slept soundly. In the middle of the night, two boys woke up and began shouting. The tent was full of water! They all leapt out of their sleeping bags and hurried outside. It was raining heavily and they found that a stream had formed in the field. The stream wound its way across the field and then flowed right under their tent! 在下午晚些时候，男孩子们把帐篷搭在一个领域中。一旦这是，他们在篝火上烧起了饭。他们都饿了，而且食物闻起来很香。一顿美餐之后，他们讲故事、唱歌的篝火。但过了些时候开始下雨了。孩子们感到累了，所以他们扑灭了火，爬进了帐篷。睡袋既暖和又舒适，所以他们都睡得很香。在半夜里，两个男孩醒来了，开始喊。帐篷里全是水!他们全都跳出睡袋，跑到外面。雨下得很大，他们发现地上已经形成了一个流。那小溪弯弯曲曲穿过田野，然后正好从他们的帐篷! 篇三： Editors of newspapers and magazines often go to extremes to provide their readers with unimportant facts and statistics. Last year a journalist had been instructed by a well-known magazine to write an article on the president's palace in a new African republic. When the article arrived, the editor read the first sentence and then refused to publish it. The article began: 'Hundreds of steps lead to the high wall which surrounds the president's palace.' The editor at once sent the journalist a fax instructing him to find out the exact number of steps and the height of the wall. The journalist immediately set out to obtain these important facts, but he took a long time to send them. Meanwhile, the editor was getting impatient, for the magazine would soon go to press. He sent the journalist two urgent telegrams, but received no reply. He sent yet another telegram rming the journalist that if he did not reply soon he would be fired. When the journalist again failed to reply, the editor reluctantly published the article as it had originally been written. A week later, the editor at last received a telegram from the journalist. Not only had the poor man been arrested, but he had been sent to prison as well. However, he had at last been allowed to send a cable in which he rmed the editor that he had been arrested while counting the 1084 steps leading to the 15-foot wall which surrounded the president's palace. 报刊杂志的编辑常常为了向读者提供成立一些关紧要的事实和统计数字而走向极端。去年，一位记者受一家有名的杂志的委托写一篇关于非洲某个新成立共和国总统府的文章。稿子寄来后，编辑看第一句话就拒绝予以发表。文章的开头是这样的："几百级台阶通向环绕总统的高墙。"编辑立即给那位记者发去传真，要求他核实一下台阶的确切数字和围墙的高度。 记者立即出发去核实这些重要的事实，但过了好长时间不见他把数字寄来，在此期间，编辑等得不耐烦了，因为杂志马上要付印。他给记者先后发去两份传真，但对方毫无反应。于是他又发了一份传真，通知那位记者说，若再不迅速答复，将被解雇。但记者还是没有回复。编辑无奈，勉强按原样发稿了。一周之后，编辑终于接到记者的传真。那个可怜的记者不仅被捕了，而且还被送进了监狱。不过，他终于获准发回了一份传真。在传真中他告诉编辑，就在他数通向15英尺高的总统府围墙的1，084级台阶时，被抓了起来。
晓晓雯雯雯
英语阅读：IfIWereaBoyAgain
If I were a boy again, I would practice perseverance more often, and never give up a thing because it was or inconvenient. If we want light, we must conquer darkness. Perseverance can sometimes equal genius in its results. “There are only two creatures,” says a proverb, “Who can surmount the pyramids — the eagle and the snail.”
If I were a boy again, I would school myself into a habit of attention; I would let nothing come between me and the subject in hand. I would remember that a good skater never tries to skate in two directions at once.
The habit of attention becomes part of our life, if we begin early enough. I often hear grown up people say, “I could not fix my attention on the sermon or book, although I wished to do so”, and the reason is, the habit was not formed in youth.
If I were to live my life over again, I would pay more attention to the cultivation of the memory. I would strengthen that faculty by every possible means, and on every possible occasion. It takes a little hard work at first to remember things accurately; but memory soon helps itself, and gives very little trouble. It only needs early cultivation to become a power.
If I were a boy again, I would cultivate courage. “Nothing is so mild and gentle as courage, nothing so cruel and pitiless as cowardice,” says a wise author.
We too often borrow trouble, and anticipate that may never appear.” The fear of ill exceeds the ill we fear.” Dangers will arise in any career, but presence of mind will often conquer the worst of them. Be prepared for any fate, and there is no harm to be feared.
If I were a boy again, I would look on the cheerful side. Life is very much like a mirror: if you smile upon it, I smiles back upon you; but if you frown and look doubtful on it, you will get a similar look in return.
Inner sunshine warms not only the heart of the owner, but of all that come in contact with it. “Who shuts love out, in turn shall be shut out from love.”
Importance of learning very early in life to gain that point where a young boy can stand erect, and decline.
If I were a boy again, I would school myself to say no more often. I might write pages on the doing an unworthy act because it is unworthy.
If I were a boy again, I would demand of myself more courtesy towards my companions and friends, and indeed towards strangers as well. The smallest courtesies along the rough roads of life are like the little birds that sing to us all winter long, and make that season of ice and snow more endurable.
Finally, instead of trying hard to be happy, as if that were the sole purpose of life, I would, if I were a boy again, I would still try harder to make others happy.
英语阅读：AnEmptyBox
Once upon a time, a man punished his 5-year-old daughter for using up the family's only roll of expensive gold wrapping paper. Money was tight, and he became even more upset when on Christmas Eve, he saw that the child had pasted the gold paper so as to decorate a shoebox to put under the Christmas tree.
Nevertheless, the next morning the little girl, filled with excitement, brought the gift box to her father and said, "This is for you, Daddy!"
As he opened the box, the father was embarrassed by his earlier overreaction.
But when he opened it, he found it was empty and again his anger flared. "Don't you know, young lady, " he said harshly, "when you give someone a present there's supposed to be something inside the package!"
The little girl looked up at him with tears rolling from her eyes and said: "Daddy, it's not empty. I blew kisses into it until it was all full."
The father was crushed. He fell on his knees and put his arms around his precious little girl. He begged her to forgive him for his unnecessary anger.
An accident took the life of the child only a short time later. It is told that the father kept that little gold box by his bed for all the years of his life. Whenever he was discouraged or faced difficult problems he would open the box, take out an imaginary kiss, and remember the love of this beautiful child who had put it there.
In a very real sense, each of us as human beings have been given an invisible golden box filled with unconditional love and kisses from our children, family, friends and God.
There is no more precious possession anyone could hold.
英语阅读：HappinessEquateswithFun?
I live in Hollywood. You may think people in such a glamorous, fun-filled place are happier than others. If so, you have some mistaken ideas about the nature of happiness.
Many intelligent people still equate happiness with fun. The truth is that fun and happiness have little or nothing in common. Fun is what we experience during an act. Happiness is what we experience after an act. It is a deeper, more abiding emotion.
Going to an amusement park or ball game, watching a movie or television, are fun activities that help us relax, temporarily forget our problems and maybe even laugh. But they do not bring happiness, because their positive effects end when the fun ends.
I have often thought that if Hollywood stars have a role to play, it is to teach us that happiness has nothing to do with fun. These rich, beautiful inpiduals have constant access to glamorous parties, fancy cars, expensive homes, everything that spells "happiness".
But in memoir after memoir, celebrities reveal the unhappiness hidden beneath all their fun: depression, alcoholism, drug addiction, broken marriages, troubled children, profound loneliness.
The way people cling to the belief that a fun-filled, pain-free life equates happiness actually diminishes their chances of ever attaining real happiness. If fun and pleasure are equated with happiness, then pain must be equated with unhappiness. But, in fact, the opposite is true: More times than not, things that lead to happiness involve some pain.
As a result, many people avoid the very endeavors that are the source of true happiness. They fear the pain inevitably brought by such things as marriage, raising children, professional achievement, religious commitment, civic or charitable work, and self-improvement.
英语阅读：TodayisaGift
Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room. One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to help drain the fluid from his lungs. His bed was next to the room‘s only window. The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back. The men talked for hours on end.
They spoke of their wives and families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement in the military service, where they had been on vacation. And every afternoon when the man in the bed by the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window. The man in the other bed began to live for those one-hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and color of the world outside.
The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake. Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Young lovers walked arm in arm amidst flowers of every color of the rainbow. Grand old trees graced the landscape, and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance. As the man by the window described all this in exquisite detail, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine the picturesque scene.
One warm afternoon the man by the window described a parade passing by. Although the other man couldn‘t hear the band - he could see it in his mind‘s eye as the gentleman by the window portrayed it with descriptive words.
Days and weeks passed. One morning, the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths only to find the lifeless body of the man by the window, who had died peacefully in his sleep. She was saddened and called the hospital attendants to take the body away.
As soon as it seemed appropriate, the other man asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch, and after making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone. Slowly and painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look at the world outside. Finally, he would have the joy of seeing it for himself. He strained to slowly turn to look out the window beside the bed. It faced a blank wall.
The man asked the nurse what could have compelled his deceased roommate who had described such wonderful things outside this window. The nurse responded that the man was blind and could not even see the wall. She said, "Perhaps he just wanted to encourage you."
英语阅读：IsPackingImportanttoYou?
A young man was getting ready to graduate from college. For many months he had admired a beautiful sports car in a dealer's showroom, and knowing his father could well afford it, he told him that was all he wanted.
As Graduation Day approached, the young man awaited signs that his father had purchased the car. Finally, on the morning of his graduation, his father called him into his private study. His father told him how proud he was to have such a fine son, and told him how much he loved him. He handed his son a beautiful wrapped gift box. Curious, but somewhat disappointed, the young man opened the box and found a lovely, leather-bound Bible, with the young man's name embossed in gold.
Angrily, he raised his voice to his father and said, "With all your money you give me a Bible?" He then stormed out of the house, leaving the Bible.
Many years passed and the young man was very successful in business. He had a beautiful home and a wonderful family, but realizing his father was very old, he thought perhaps he should go to see him. He had not seen him since that graduation day. Before he could make the arrangements, he received a telegram telling him his father had passed away, and willed all of his possessions to his son. He needed to come home immediately and take care of things.
When he arrived at his father's house, sudden sadness and regret filled his heart. He began to search through his father's important papers and saw the still new Bible, just as he had left it years ago.
With tears, he opened the Bible and began to turn the pages. As he was reading, a car key dropped from the back of the Bible. It had a tag with the dealer's name, the same dealer who had the sports car he had desired. On the tag was the date of his graduation, and the words… "PAID IN FULL".
How many times do we miss blessings because they are not packaged as we expected? I trust you enjoyed this. Do not spoil what you have by desiring what you have not; but remember that what you now have was once among the things you only hoped for. Sometimes we don't realize the good fortune we have or we could have because we expect "the packaging" to be different. What may appear as bad fortune may in fact be the door that is just waiting to be opened.
英语阅读：TheBabyEagle
Once upon a time there was a baby eagle living in a nest perched on a cliff overlooking a beautiful valley with waterfalls and streams, trees and lots of little animals, scurrying about enjoying their lives.
The baby eagle liked the nest. It was the only world he had ever known. It was warm and comfortable, had a great view, and even better, he had all the food and love and attention that a great mother eagle could provide. Many times each day the mother would swoop down from the sky and land in the nest and feed the baby eagle delicious morsels of food. She was like a god to him, he had no idea where she came from or how she worked her magic.
The baby eagle was hungry all the time, but the mother eagle would always come just in time with the food and love and attention he craved. The baby eagle grew strong. His vision grew very sharp. He felt good all the time.
Until one day, the mother stopped coming to the nest.
The baby eagle was hungry. "I'm sure to die," said the baby eagle, all the time.
"Very soon, death is coming," he cried, with tears streaming down his face. Over and over. But there was no one there to hear him.
Then one day the mother eagle appeared at the top of the mountain cliff, with a big bowl of delicious food and she looked down at her baby. The baby looked up at the mother and cried "Why did you abandon me? I'm going to die any minute. How could you do this to me?"
The mother said, "Here is some very tasty and nourishing food, all you have to do is come get it."
"Come get it!" said the baby, with much anger. "How?"
The mother flew away.
The baby cried and cried and cried.
A few days later, "I'm going to end it all," he said. "I give up. It is time for me to die."
He didn't know his mother was nearby. She swooped down to the nest with his last meal.
"Eat this, it's your last meal," she said.
The baby cried, but he ate and whined and whined about what a bad mother she was.
"You're a terrible mother," he said. Then she pushed him out of the nest.
He fell.
Head first.
Picked up speed.
Faster and faster.
He screamed. "I'm dying I'm dying," he cried. He picked up more speed.
He looked up at his mother. "How could you do this to me?"
He looked down.
The ground rushed closer, faster and faster. He could visualize his own death so clearly, coming so soon, and cried and whined and complained. "This isn't fair!" he screamed.
Something strange happens.
The air caught behind his arms and they snapped away from his body, with a feeling unlike anything he had ever experienced. He looked down and saw the sky. He wasn't moving towards the ground anymore, his eyes were pointed up at the sun.
"Huh?" he said. "What is going on here!"
"You're flying," his mother said.
"This is fun!" laughed the baby eagle, as he soared and ped and swooped.
"Yes it is!" said the mother.
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