Last year I ruined my summer vacation by bringing along a modern convenience that was too convenient for my own good: the iPad. Instead of looking at nature, I checked my e-mail. Instead of paddling a small boat, I followed my Twitter feed . Instead of reading great novels, I stuck to reading four newspapers each morning. I was behaving as if I were still in the office. My body was on vacation, but my head wasn't. So this year I made up my mind to try something different: withdrawal from the Internet. I knew it wouldn't be easy, since I'm bad at self-control. But I was determined. I started by giving the iPad to my wife. The cellphone signal at our house was worse than in the past, making my attempts at cheating an experience in frustration . I was trapped, forced to go through with my plan. Largely cut off from e-mail, Twitter and my favorite newspaper websites, I had few ways to connect to the world except for the radio--and how much radio can one listen to, really? I had to do what I had planned to do all along: read books. This experience has had a happy ending. With determination and the strong support of my wife, I won in my vacation straggle against the Internet, realizing finally that it was I, not the iPad, that was the problem. I knew I had won when we passed a Starbucks and my wife asked if I wanted to stop to use the Wi-Fi. "I don't need it," I said. However, as we return to post-vacation life, a harder test begins: Can I continue when I'm back at work? There are times when the need to know what's being said right now is great. I have no intention of giving up my convenience completely. But I hope to resist the temptation to check my e-mail every five minutes, which leads to checking my Twitter feed and a website ortwo. I think a vacation is supposed to help you reset your brain to become more productive. Here I hope this one worked. What do we know about the author's last summer vacation? A) He was determined to enjoy the beautiful view. B) His iPad ruined his plan of finishing a great novel. C) He felt satisfied that he had stuck to his usual timetable. D) He hated himself for acting as if he were working on vacation.
D
(Question)
The silent young woman in bed number six is called Jasmine. So am I, but names are only superficial things, floats on the surface of the water, and we share deeper connections than that. That is why she fascinates me--why I spend my off-duty time sitting beside her. Today is difficult. The ward is full of patients and I am kept busy emptying bed-pans, filling out forms, changing dressings. Finally, late in the afternoon, I get a few moments to make coffee, to take it over to the orange plastic chair beside her bed. I am thankful to be off my feet, glad to be in her company once again. "Hello, Jasmine," I say, as if greeting myself. She does not reply. Jasmine never replies. She is down too deep. She has been sea-damaged. I too am the daughter of a fisherman, so I choose my words like fish-hooks, cast them into her ears, imagine them sinking down through cold, dark water. Down to wherever she may be. "I have little time today," I tell her, touching her hair. With Jasmine, it is always difficult not to touch. She is that rare thing, a truly beautiful woman. Because of this, people invent reasons to walk by. I catch them looking, drinking her in, feeding on her. They are barracuda , all of them. Great beauty is something Jasmine and I do not share. I am glad of it. "Your father may be here soon," I say. "Last week he said he would come." Jasmine says nothing. Her left eyelid flickers, perhaps. It is two months since the incident on her father's fishing boat, since she fell overboard, sank, became entangled in the nets. It was some time before anyone noticed, then there was panic. Her father hauled her back on board and sailed for home. When he finally arrived, he carried ashore what he thought was his daughter's body. "Jasmine," I whisper. I want her to take our baited name. I want her to swallow it. Fortunately, there was a doctor in the village that morning, a young man visiting s. It was he who brought this drowned woman... From the passage we can learn that Jasmine's father _ . A) comes to see his daughter every day B) is a good and simple man in the author's eyes C) took his daughter out to the sea against her will D) thought his daughter dead when back to the shore
(Answer)
D
Ques:For years I wanted a flower garden.But then we had Matthew.And Marvin.And the twins, Alisa and Alan.And then Helen.Five children.I was too busy raising them to grow a garden. Money was tight, as well as time.Often when my children were little, one of them would want something that cost too much, and I' d have to say, "Do you see a money tree outside? Money doesn't grow on trees, you now." Finally, all five got through high school and college and were off on their own. One spring morning, on Mother's Day, I was working in my kitchen.Suddenly, I realized that cars were tooting their horns as they drove by.I looked out the window and there was a new tree, planted right in my yard.I thought it must be a weeping willow, because I saw things blowing around on all its branches.Then I put my glasses on-and I couldn't believe what I saw. There was a money tree in my yard! I went outside to look.It was true! There were dollar bills, one hundred of them, taped all over that tree.Think of' all the garden flowers I could buy with one hundred dollars! There was also a note attached: ''IOU eight hours of digging time.Love, Marvin." Marvin kept his promise, too.He dug up a nice ten-by-fifteen foot bed for me And my other children bought me tools, ornaments , a trellis , a sunflower stepping stone and gardening books. That was three years ago.My garden's now very pretty, just like I wanted.When I go out and tend my flowers, I don't seem to miss my children as much as I once did.I feel like they're right there with me. I'm still not sure that money grows on trees.But I know love does! What do we know about the mother according to the text? _ . A) She is a bad-tempered woman B) She believes money can grow on a tree now C) She is a writer D) She is hard-working in housekeeping

Ans:
D