猛草肥臀女友:找一些英语文章

选了两个小故事和一首诗.希望你喜欢.

Arkansas Traveler
retold by
S. E. Schlosser

One rainy autumn, a traveler got lost in the mountains of Arkansas. He was tired and hungry, and so was his horse. Night was approaching. All at once, he saw a cabin. A squatter sat on the porch fiddling the same tune over and over.

The traveler asked the squatter for food and water for himself and his horse. The squatter replied: "Ain't got a thing in the house."

The traveler asked where the next house was. The squatter said: "Dunno. I ain't never been there."

The frustrated traveler asked if he could spend the night. The squatter replied: "House leaks. My wife and me sleep on the only dry spot."

"Why don't you mend the roof?" asked the traveler.

"Can't mend the roof on a rainy day."

The whole time, the squatter continued to fiddle the same tune, over and over.

The traveler snapped: "Why don't you finish that tune?"

"Can't get the turn of the tune."

The traveler took the fiddle, played the turn of the tune and finished it.

"Stranger," said the squatter, "Grab yerself a chair and set down. Sal, cut a hunk outta that deer and cook it. Son, get the whisky and put the horse in the shed. You jest play away, stranger. Tonight, you can sleep on the dry spot!"

2 You can't get out
retold by
S. E. Schlosser

One dark, windy night, the town drunk was meandering his way home after the bar closed. Somehow he got turned around and ended up walking through the churchyard instead of taking the road home.

The wind picked up and he thought he could hear a voice calling his name. Suddenly, the ground opened up in front of him, and he fell down, down into an open grave! He could hear the voice clearer now, calling to him. He knew it was the devil, coming for him just like the preacher said, on account of him being the town drunk.

The hole was very deep and inside it was pitch black. His eyes adjusted to the darkness after a few moments, and he made out a form sitting in the darkness with him. It called his name, and he scrambled away in fear, trying to climb out of that terrible grave. Then the figure spoke. "You can't get out," it said.

The drunk gave a shout of pure terror and leapt straight up more than six feet. He caught the edge of the hole in his hands, scrambled out, and ran for home as fast as he could go.

Inside the open grave, his neighbor Charlie sighed in resignation. He'd fallen into the hole a few minutes before his friend and had thought that together they might help each other climb out. Now he was going to have to wait until morning and get the mortician to bring him a ladder.

3Spring
Karla Kuskin

I'm shouting
I'm singing
I'm swinging through trees
I'm winging sky-high
With the buzzing black bees.
I'm the sun
I'm the moon
I'm the dew on the rose.
I'm a rabbit
Whose habit
Is twitching his nose.
I'm lively
I'm lovely
I'm kicking my heels.
I'm crying "Come dance"
To the freshwater eels.
I'm racing through meadows
Without any coat
I'm a gamboling lamb
I'm a light leaping goat
I'm a bud
I'm a bloom
I'm a dove on the wing.
I'm running on rofftops
And welcoming spring!