THE OUTSIDERS
S. E. HINTON
Copyright © S. E. Hinton, 1967
"Nothing Gold Can Stay," on p. 77, is from Complete Poems of Robert Frost. Copyright 1923 by Holt, Rinehart and Winston, Inc. Copyright 1951 by Robert Frost Reprinted by permission of Holt, Rinehart and Winston.
Chapter 1
山楂糖葫芦的做法沃克医生WHEN I STEPPED out into the bright sunlight from the darkness of the movie hou, I had only two things on my mind: Paul Newman and a ride home. I was wishing I looked like Paul Newman--he looks tough and I don't--but I guess my own looks aren't so bad. I have light-brown, almost-red hair and greenish-gray eyes. I wish they were more gray, becau I hate most guys that have green eyes, but I have to be con-tent with what I have. My hair is longer than a lot of boys wear theirs, squared off in back and long at the front and sides, but
I am a grear and most of my neighborhood rarely bothers to get a haircut. Besides, I look better with long hair.
人生规划思维导图 I had a long walk home and no company, but I usually lone it anyway, for no reason except that I like to watch movies undisturbed so I can get into them and live them with the actors. When I e a movie with someone it's kind of uncomfortable, like having someone read your book over your shoulder. I'm different that way. I mean, my cond-oldest brother, Soda, who is sixteen-going-on-venteen, never cracks a book at all, and my oldest brother, Darrel, who we call Darry, works too long and hard to be interested in a story or drawing a, picture, so I'm not like them. And nobody in our gang digs movies and books the way I do. For a while there, I thought I was the only person in the world that did. So I loned it.
Soda tries to understand, at least, which is more than Darry does. But then, Soda is different from anybody; he understands everything, almost. Like he's never hollering at me all the time the way Darry is, or treating me as if I was six instead of fourteen. I love S
oda more than I've ever loved anyone, even Mom and Dad. He's always happy-go-lucky and grinning, while Darry's hard and firm and rarely grins at all. But then, Darry's gone through a lot in his twenty years, grown up too fast. Sodapop'll never grow up at all. I don't know which way's the best. I'll find out one of the days.
试用期自我评价 Anyway, I went on walking home, thinking about the movie, and then suddenly wishing I had some company. Grears can't walk alone too much or they'll get jumped, or someone will come by and scream "Grear!" at them, which doesn't make you feel too hot, if you know what I mean. We get jumped by the Socs. I'm not sure how you spell it, but it's the abbreviation for the Socials, the jet t, the West-side rich kids. It's like the term "grear," which is ud to class all us boys on the East Side.
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We're poorer than the Socs and the middle class. I reckon we're wilder, too. Not like the Socs, who jump grears and wreck hous and throw beer blasts for kicks, and get editorials in the paper for being a public disgrace one day and an ast to society the next Grears are almost like hoods; we steal things and drive old souped-up cars and h
old up gas stations and have a gang fight once in a while. I don't mean I do things like that Darry would kill me if I got into trouble with the police. Since Mom and Dad were killed in an auto wreck, the three of us get to stay together only as long as we behave. So Soda and I stay out of trouble as much as we can, and we're careful not to get caught when we can't. I only mean that most grears do things like that, just like we wear our hair long and dress in blue jeans and T-shirts, or leave our shirttails out and wear leather jackets and tennis shoes or boots. I'm not saying that either Socs or grears are better; that's just the way things are.
I could have waited to go to the movies until Darry or Sodapop got off work. They would have gone with me, or driven me there, or walked along, although Soda just can't sit still long enough to enjoy a movie and they bore Darry to death. Darry thinks his life is enough without inspecting other people's. Or I could have gotten one of the gang to come along, one of the four boys Darry and Soda and I have grown up with and consider family. We're almost as clo as brothers; when you grow up in a tight-knit neighborhood like ours you get to know each other real well. If I had thought about it, I could have called 园园通管理平台
Darry and he would have come by on his way home and picked me up, or Two-Bit Mathews--one of our gang--would have come to get me in his car if I had asked him, but sometimes I just don't u my head. It drives my brother Darry nuts when I do stuff like that, 'cau I'm suppod to be smart; I make good grades and have a high IQ and everything, but I don't u my head. Besides, I like walking.
I about decided I didn't like it so much, though, when I spotted that red Corvair trailing me. I was almost two blocks from home then, so I started walking a little faster. I had never been jumped, but I had en Johnny after four Socs got hold of him, and it wasn't pretty. Johnny was scared of his own shadow after that. Johnny was sixteen then.
I knew it wasn't any u though--the fast walking, I mean--even before the Corvair pulled up beside me and five Socs got out. I got pretty scared--I'm kind of small for fourteen even though I have a good build, and tho guys were bigger than me. I automatically hitched my thumbs in my jeans and slouched, wondering if I could get away if I made a break for it I remembered Johnny--his face all cut up and bruid, and I reme
mbered how he had cried when we found him, half-conscious, in the corner lot. Johnny had it awful rough at home--it took a lot to make him cry.
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