My New Roommate
It was my first day at the institute．I got into the building where 1 was going to live．My eyes arched carefully from the door of one bedroom to that of another for my name which ought to have been pasted on the door of one of the bedrooms．At last I found it．On stepping into the bedroom I found there was already in it a student who was making his bed．
Having exchanged with me a few words of greetings，he resumed his arrangement of bedding and no longer paid any attention to me．“What a stuck-up fellow．”I thought and began to survey the room．It looked quite similar to any other bedroom in the building．Even the furniture in all bedrooms was uniform．It emed my bedroom had already been thoroughly cleaned by my new roommate．
He was thin，short and dark-skinned．His hair looked like a bundle of straw．His dirty clothes and lusterless eyes clearly indicated that he had had a long journey．His clothes were made of cheap cloth．His coat was too short，and the legs of his trours were too lo
o．He wore a pair of unfashionable rubber shoes．Thus he did not look like a smart freshman at a11.“A yokel,” I concluded．
The cond time he spoke，his accent told me that he was from the south．“May I help you get your luggage from the office?”
I did not decline his help becau I really needed it．He was quick in movement． He walked out of the room and was soon far ahead of me in the corridor． “A good guy,” I said to mylf．“I will make friends with him．”I hurried and caught up with him．
My English Teacher
I like most of my teachers in college．They were，for the most part，friendly and competent, willing to help students．I liked them — but I don请的英语’t remember them very well，except for Mr. Jones，my freshman English teacher．He was an enthusiastic， nsitive man，who knew his subject and was determined that we would learn it and love it, too．
Mr. Jones was a tall，slender man in his mid-forties with gray, thinning hair．Perched precariously on his no，his glass gave him a rious look．But they didn穿的拼音怎么写’t remain there long，for he was always either taking them off and polishing their two pieces of glass or putting either of the two earpieces in his mouth when he was meditating a respon to some question raid by a student．When on his way to our classroom，he always carried two or three books with strips of paper sticking out of them，which were for marking the passages he wanted to read to us．I remember, too， his cardigan sweaters．He must have had a dozen of them．On rainy days he would have a blue raincoat on．But what is most tenacious in my memory is his smile．When he smiled，his whole face lit up；his eyes sparkled．His smile made you feel good，at ea，and somehow reassured．
Though habitually friendly and at ea with everybody, he was a bit prim in classroom，and he could be stem on occasions．He never called us by our first names．He obviously enjoyed his work and loved his students，but he kept his distance．He never deliberately or publicly embarrasd a student by using sarcastic language．Nevertheles
s he could distinctly reveal his displeasure in his own way．He’d look 平均分教学设计steadily at an offending student for quite a few freezing conds．That was usually enough for the little culprit to be cowed．But if it didn世界和平图片’t work，he’d say something to the student in a lowered tone of voice．He didn’t do this often, though．
Mr. Jones had personality, integrity, vitality — a11 of which made him popular；but what I liked most about him was that he was a fine teacher 多举并措It was true that he cared about his students，but he cared more about teaching them his subject．And that meant homework，lots of it，and pop quizzes now and then to keep them current on the reading．He lectured occasionally to provide background information whenever we moved on to a new literary period．After a brief glance at his notes，he’董力女儿d begin to move around as he talked to the blackboard to the window, back to the 1ectem．But he preferred discussion，a Socratic dialogue．He’d write veral questions on the board for the next day’s discussion，and he’d expect you to be prepared to discuss them．He directed the discussion, but he didn’t dominate it：for he was a good listener and made sure we all had a chance to respond, whether we wanted to or not．If he was plead wit
h a respon，he’d nod his head and smile．Occasionally he’d read a student’s essay, praising its good points and then winking at the writer as he pasd it back．But he was tough-minded，too，as I suggested before．He really nailed you for sloppy work or inattention．When you got an A from him，you really felt good，for he wasn’t an easy grader．We ud to complain about his grading standards，usually to no avail, though he would change a grade if he thought he had been unfair．
Mr. Jones was a competent teacher．He knew what he was doing in classroom，and he could conduct his class very well．But what was more important was that he made his students fall in love with the cour he offered．He led us to take the initiative in delving into it on out own．
Mariak Anagian
She was ninety-two years old when I met her, a gentle，diminutive lady in European dress．Her face was deeply lined，and her coar grey hair had yellowed with the years．She spoke softly in a quivering voice in half English and half American．Her gnarl
ed hands testified to the years of hard work on the farm in her homeland．Yet．in her dark eyes and in her gentle manner there was a childlike simplicity as she told me her story．I thought“she has the wisdom that comes with years of experience and the gentle purity of a child防溺水宣传图片—that was a wonderful but strange combination of traits．”I knew that l would never forget her．
Her name was Mariak Anagian When she was a young woman，her homeland was invaded by foreign troops．She had been keeping hou for her father, brothers， husband，and her two young children．One day she returned from the market and found the mutilated（残缺不全的）bodies of her father and one of her brothers on her doorstep．They were among the many victims of the war．Mariak’s husband was much older than she，and he soon succumbed to the rigorous demands of field work and mental strain，leaving Mariak alone in the world to take care of her two small children．Many of the town’s海参怎么烧好吃 people helped her, and she was able to produce enough on the small farm to feed her family．Shortly after the turn of the century, her daughter married and went to America．A few years later，Mariak’s daughter nt her some money which ena
bled her to come to the United States．Thus Mariak came to live in the United States for thirty years．
