2013高考英语阅读素材及翻译(98篇)-2013高三英语阅读素材 The Californian's tale 加州的

The Californian's tale

加州的传说

“她在结婚半年后回去看 望她的父母，

在回来的路上，

也就是六月的一个星期六晚上，< /p>

印第安人抓住了她。此后再也没有人看到过她。亨利疯了。他一直认为她还活着。每当六< /p>

月来临时，他就认为她去看望她的父母，于是他就等待着她回来。他拿出那封信，我们来< /p>

看他，他向我们朗读她的来信。

在预计她回来的星期六晚上，

我们来到这里和他在一起，

安度过。

19

年来，每年的六月，我们都这么做。第一年，我们才

27

When I was young, I went looking for gold in California. I never found enough to

make me rich. But I did discover a beautiful part of the country. It was called

“the Stanislau.” The Stanislau was like Heaven on Earth. It had bright green

hills and deep forests where soft winds touched the trees.

Other men, also looking for gold, had reached the Stanislau hills of California

many years before I did. They had built a town in the valley with sidewalks and

stores, banks and school

s. They had also built pretty little houses for their

families.

At first, they found a lot of gold in the Stanislau hills. But their good luck

did not last. After a few years, the gold disappeared. By the time I reached the

Stanislau, all the people were gone, too.

Grass now grew in the streets. And the little houses were covered by wild rose

bushes. Only the sound of insects filled the air as I walked through the empty

town that summer day so long ago. Then, I realized I was not alone after all.

A man was smiling at me as he stood in front of one of the little houses. This

house was not covered by wild rose bushes. A nice little garden in front of the

house was full of blue and yellow flowers. White curtains hung from the windows

and floated in the soft summer win

d.

Still smiling, the man opened the door of his house and motioned to me. I went

inside

and

could not

believe my eyes. I had been

living

for weeks

in

rough mining

camps with other gold miners. We slept on the hard ground, ate canned beans from

cold metal plates and spent our days in the difficult search for gold.

Here in this little house, my spirit seemed to come to life again.

I

saw

a

bright

rug

on

the

shining

wooden

floor.

Pictures

hung

all

around

the

room.

And

on

little

tables

there

were

seashells,

books

and

china

vases

full

of

flowers.

A woman had made this house into a home.

The

pleasure

I

felt

in

my

heart

must

have

shown

on

my

face.

The

man

read

my

thoughts.

“Yes,” he smiled, “it is all her work. Everything in this room has felt the

touch of her hand.”

One of the pictures on the wall was not hanging straight. He noticed it and went

to fix it. He stepped back several times to make sure the picture was really

straight. Then he gave it a gentle touch with his hand.

“She always does that,” he explained to me. “It is like the finishing pat a

mother g

ives her child’s hair after she

has brushed it. I have seen her fix all

these th

ings so often that I can do it just the way she does. I don’t know why

I do it. I just do it.”

As he talked, I realized there was something in this room that he wanted me to

discover. I looked around. When my eyes reached a corner of the room near the

fireplace, he broke into a happy laugh and rubbed his hands together.

“That’s it!” he cried out. “You have found it! I knew you would. It is her

picture. I went to a little black shelf that held a small picture of the most

beautiful

woman

I

had

ever

seen.

There

was

a

swee

tness

and

softness

in

the

woman’s

expression that I had never seen before.

The man took the picture from my hands and stared at it. “She was nineteen on

her last birthday. That was the day we were married. When y

ou see her?oh, just

wait

until you meet her!”

“Where is she now?” I asked.

“Oh,

she

is

away,”

the

man

sighed,

putting

the

picture

back

on

the

little

black

shelf.

“She

went

to

visit

her

parents.

They

live

forty

or

fifty

miles

from

here.

She has been gone two weeks today.”

“When will she be back?” I asked. “Well, this is Wednesday,” he said slowly.

“She will be back on Saturday, in the evening.”

I felt a sharp sense of regret. “I am sorry, because I will be gone by then,”

I said.

“Gone?

No!

Why

should

you

go?

Don’t

go.

She

will

be

so

sorry.

You

see,

she

likes

to have people come and stay with us.”

“No, I really must leave,” I said firmly.