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[American Story] 【整理】SENEWS-2008-0202-FEATURE

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homework

Now the special English program American stories.Our story today is called ' The White Circle'. It was written by John Bill Cliton, here is shap Onial to tell you the story.

As soon as I saw Ambo sitting in the apple tree, I knew we would fight, I also knew he would win. but winning or losing was not important, at least not so important as getting him down from the tree, the tree was mine. It was a young tree and it had 13 beautiful apples on it. Now my beautiful apples were under Ambo's shirt.

The tree became mine the day I was 12 years old. Father called me to come to the barn to see the new young horses. When I got there, father lit a cigarette and placed one foot on the fence. He looked pleased and proud, "Taka", he finally said, "this is a big day, There before you our five of the finest horses are all in Virginia. Now how would I give you a gift for your birthday. could you make a choice? '' " Yes,sir "I said. "Which one?" he asked. " I would like to have the apple tree across the road.'' Father looked at me for a long time. " You'd have to know how much he loved horses to understand the look on his face, but I was 12 years old, how could I explain my choice? It was something about the apple tree the color of the red apples as hung among the green leaves, but it was more than this. It has something to do with being proud, I could give one of the apples to my friend Jenny, "Jenny", I would say, "I want to give you this apple, It came from my tree, the tree grows on my father's land. Before my father had the land, it belongs to his father, and before that, to his father, now I own the tree. Because of this I am in charge of all my people loved long ago way back the moses and all the Bible people'' Father finally answered, " All right son if you want a tree more than a horse the tree is yours".

Homework:

Now the Special English Program, American Stories.

Our story today is called The White Circle. It was written by John Bill Klaten Coliton. Here is Shep O’neel O’neal to tell you the story.

As soon as I saw Ample sitting in the apple tree, I knew we would fight. I also knew he would win. But winning or losing is not important, at least not so important as getting him down from the tree. The tree was man mine, it was a young tree, and it had 13 beautiful apples on it. Now my beautiful apples were under Ample’s shirt.

The tree became mine the day I was 12 years old. Father called me to come to the bound barn to see the new young horses. When I got there, father lit a cigarette and placed one foot on the fence. He looked pleased and proud.
“Tocca”, he finally said, “This is a big day. There before you are fabled our five of the finest horses in all the geniur Virginia. Now I would give you a gift for your birthday. Could you make a choice?”
“Yes”, I said.
“Which one?” He asked.
“I would like to have the apple tree across the road.”
Father looked at me for a long time. You would have to know how much he loved horses to understand the look on his face, but I was 12 years old. How could I explain my choice?
It was something of out about the apple tree. The color of the red apples as they hung among the green leaves, but it was * more than this. It had something to do with being proud. I can give one of the apples to my friend Jenny. Jenny, I would say, I want to give you this apple. It came from my tree. The tree grows on my father’s land. Before my father had the land, it belonged to his father, and before that, to his father, now, I own the tree, because it is, I’m tied to all my people of long ago wait way back the moses and all bad Bible people.
Father finally answered, “All right, son. If you want the tree more than the horse, the tree is yours.”
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homework
Now, the special English program-American Stories.
Our story today is called “the White Circle”. It was written by John Duane Clinton. Here is Shap Onio to tell you the story.
As soon as I saw an apple sitting in the apple tree, I knew we would fight, I also knew he would win. But winning or loosing was not important, at least not so important as getting him down from the tree. The tree was mine. It was a young tree, and it had thirteen beautiful apples on it. Now our beautiful apple was under amble’s shoot.
The tree became mine the day I was twelve years old. Father called me to come to the barn to see the new young horses. When I got there, father lit a cigarette and placed one foot on the fence. He looked pleased and proud. “Tarker,” he finally said: “this is a big day. There before you are five of finest horses in our Virginia. Now I would give you a gift for your birthday. Could you make a choice?” “Yes.” I said. “Which one?” he asked. I would like to have the apple tree across the road. Father looked at me for a long time. You would have to know how much he loved horses to understand the look on his face. But I was twelve years old, how could I explain my choice. It was something about the apple tree, but color of the red apples as they hung themselves on the green leaves. It was more than this, it has something to do with being proud. I can give one of the apples to my friend Jenny.
“Jenny,” I would say, “I want to give you this apple. It came from my tree, the tree grows on my father’s land. Before my father has the land, it belongs to his father, and before that, to his father. Now I own the tree. Because of this, I am tied to all my people of long ago wai back them all these and all the babble people.
Father finally answered: “All right, son, if you want the tree more than the horse, the tree is yours.”
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Homework

Now the Special English Program American Sotries.

Our story today is called “The White Circle”, it was written by John Bell Coliton. Here is Shep O’Neal to tell you the story.

As soon I saw Avol sitting in the apple tree, I knew we would fight, I also knew he would win. But winning or losing was not important, at least not so important as getting him down from the tree. The tree was mine. It was a young tree and had 13 beautiful apples on it. Now my beautiful apples under Anvol’s shirt.

The tree became mine the day about 12 years old. Father called me to come the barn to see the new young horses. When I got there, father lid a cigarette and placed one foot on the fence. He looked pleased and proud.

“Toker!” he finally said, “this is a big day. There before you, the five of finest horses in all Virginia. Now how would give you a gift for your birthday. Could you make a choice?”

“Yes.” I said.
“Which one?” he asked.
“I would like to have the apple tree across the road.”

Father looked at me for a long time. You have known how much enough horses to undstand I looked on his face. But I was 12 years old. How could I explain my choices?

It was something about the apple tree, the colour of the red apples as they hung among green leaves. But it was more than this, it had something to do with being proud. I could give one of apples to my friend Jenny.

“Jenny,” I would say, “ I want to give you this apple, it come form my tree. The tree grows on my father’s land.”

Before my father had the land, it belong to his father. And for that to his father, now I own the tree. Because of this, I am tried to all my people of long ago way back mouse on all the Bible people.

Father find the answer, “now right, son, if you want tree more than the horse, the tree is yours.”
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Homework
As soon as I saw Anvol sitting in the apple tree, I knew he would fight. I also knew he would win. But winning or losing was not important, at least not so important as getting him down from the tree. The tree was men. It was a young tree and it had thirteen beautiful apples on it. Now my beautiful apples were under Anvol’s shirt. The tree became mine the day I was twelve years old. Father called me to come to the ban to see the new young horses. When I got there, father lit a cigarette and placed one foot on the fence. He looked pleased and proud. “Takka, if I only said, this is a big day. There before you are five of the finest horses in our Virginia. Now if I would give you a gift for your birthday, could you make a choice?” “Yes.” So I said. “Which one,” he asked. “I would like to have the apple tree across the road.” Father looked at me for a long time. You would have to know how much he loved horses to understand the look on his face. But I was twelve years old. How could I explain my choice? It was something about the apple tree, the color of the red apples as they hung among the green leaves. But it was more than this. It had something to do with being proud. I could give one of the apples to my friend, Jenny. Jenny, I would say: “I want to give you this apple. It came from my tree. The tree grows on my father’s land. Before my father had the land, it belongs to his father. And before that, to his father. Now I own the tree. Because of this, I am judging all my people of long ago way back the most and all the bad people.” Father finally answered: “Now all right son. If you want a tree more than a horse, the tree is yours.”
homework

Now the special English program ,American stories .Our story today is called"The White Circle".It was written by John Bill Cliton.Here is Shap Onial to tell you the story.

As soon as I saw Ambo sitting in the apple tree.I knew we would fight.I also knew,he would win.But winning or losing was not important. At least,not so important as getting him down from the tree.The tree is mine.It was a toung tree and it had 13 beautiful apples on it.Now those beautiful apples were under Ambo's shirt. The tree became mine the day I was 12 years old.Father told me to come to the barn to see tne new young horses.When I got there ,father lid a cigarette and placed one foot on the fence. He looked pleased and proud.
"Tocker,'he finally said"This is a big day. There before you are five of the finest horses in all Virginia.Now I would give you a gift for your birthday. Could you make a choice?"
"Yes,"I said
"which one?"he asked
"I would like to have the apple tree across the road. "
Father looked at me for a long time.You would have to konw how much he loves horses understand the look on his face.But I was 12 years old.How could I explain my choice?It was something about the apple tree.The color of the red apples as hung among the green leaves. But it was more than this, it has something to do with been proud. I could give one of these apples to my friend Jenny
"Jenny,"Iwould say"I want to give you this apple. It came from my tree. The tree grows on my father's land. "Before my father had the land, it belonged to his father.and before that,to his father,\.Now I own the tree.Because of this, I'm tired to all my people of long ago way back the moses and all the Bible people. Fther finally answered, "All right,son, If you want the tree more than the horse.The tree is yours. "
Homework
Our story today is called the White Circle. It was written by J. Here’s SO to tell you the story.

As soon as I saw A sitting in the apple tree, I knew we would fight. I also knew he would win. But wining or losing is not important, at least not so important as getting him down from the tree. The tree was mine. It was a young tree and it had 13 beautiful apples on it. Now my beautiful apples were under A’s shirt.

The tree became mine the day I was 12 years old. Father called me to come to the barns to see the new young horses. When I got there, father lid a cigarette and placed one foot on the fence. He looked pleased and proud.

“T” he finally say, “This is a big day. There before you are five of the finest horses in all Virginia. Now I would give you a gift for you birthday. Could you make a choice?”

“Yes.” I said.
“Which one?” he asked.
“I would like to have the apple tree across the road. “

Father looked at me for a long time. You would have to know how much he loved horses to understand the look on his face. But I was 12 years old. How could I explain my choice?

It was something about the apple tree. The color of the real apples as they hung among the green leaves. But it was more than this, it had something to do with being proud.
I could give one of the apples to my friend Jennie
“Jennie.” I would say, “I want to give you this apple. It came from my tree. The tree grows on my father’s land. Before my father had the land, it belonged to his father, and before that, to his father. Now I own the tree.”
Because of this, I am tied to all my people of long ago way back the M and all the / people.

Father finally answered “Now right son, if you want a tree more than a horse. The tree is yours.”
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实现无障碍英语沟通
homework

Now the Special English program American Stories. Our story today is called "The White Circle". It was written by John Bell Coliton. Here's Shep O'Neal to tell you the story.

As soon as I saw Anwo sitting in the apple tree, I knew we would fight, I also knew he would win. But winning or losing was not important at least not so important as getting him down from the tree.
The tree was mine. It was a young tree and it had thirteen beautiful apples on it. Now my beautiful apples were under Anwo's shirt.
The tree became mine the day I was twelve years old. Father called me to come to the barn to see the new young horses. When I got there, father lit a cigarette and placed one foot on the fence. He looked pleased and proud.
"Tarka", he finally said, "This is a big day. There before you, our five of the finest horses in all Virginia. Now if I would give you a gift for your birthday, could you make a choice?"
"Yes", I said. "Which one?” he asked. "I would like to have the apple tree across the road."
Father looked at me for a long time. You would have to know how much he loved horses to understand the look on his face, but I was twelve years old, how could I explain my choice?
It was something about the apple tree. The color of the red apples as they hung among the green leaves. But it was more than this. It had something to do with being proud. I could give one of the apples to my friend Jennie.
"Jennie", I would say, "I want to give you this apple. It came from my tree. The tree grows on my father's land. Before my father had the land, it belonged to his father, and before that, to his father. Now I own the tree. "

Because of this, I am tied to all my people of long ago. We backed the Moss (摩西?) and all the bible people.
Father finally answered. “Now right son, if you want a tree more than a horse, the tree is yours."
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Now the Special English program American Stories.

Our story today is called "The White Circle". It was written by J.B.C. Here's Sp.N to tell you the story.

As soon as I saw Anvol sitting in the apple tree, I knew we would fight, I also knew, he would win. But winning or losing was not important, at least not so important as getting him down from the tree. The tree was mine. It was a young tree, and it had thirteen beautiful apples on it. Now my beautiful apples were under Anvol's shirt.

The tree became mine the day I was twelve years old. Father called me to come to the barn to see the new young horses. When I got there, father lip a cigarette and placed one foot on the fence. He looked pleased and proud.
"T.", he finally said, "This is a big day. There before you, our five of the finest horses in all V. Now I would give you a gift for your birthday, could you make a choice?"

"Yes", I said.
"Which one?'' he asked.
"I would like to have the apple tree across the road."

Father looked at me for a long time. You would have to know how much he loved horses to understand the look on his face. But I was twelve years old, how could I explain my choice?

It was something about the apple tree. The color of the red apples as they hung among the green leaves. But it was more than this. It had something to do with being proud. I could give one of the apples to my friend Jennie. "Jennie", I would say, "I want to give you this apple. It came from my tree. The tree grows on my father's land. Before my father had the land, it belonged to his father, and before that, to his father. Now I own the tree.'' Because of this, I am tied to all my people of long ago way back the Moses and all the Bible people.
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Homework

 

Now the Special English program American Stories.
Our story today is called The White Circle. It was written by John Bill Coliton, here is Shep O'Neal to tell you the story.

As soon as I saw Anvol sitting in the apple tree, I knew we would fright. I also knew he would win. But winning or losing was not important, at least not so important to getting him down from the tree. The tree was mine. It was a young tree and it had thirteen beautiful apples on it. Now my beautiful apples were under Anvol's shirt.

The tree became mine the day I was twelve years old. Father called me to come to the barn to see the new young horses. When I get there, father lid a cigarette and placed one foot on the fence. He looked pleased and proud.

"Toker" he finally said, "This is a big day. There before you are five of finest  horses in all Virginia. Now I will give you a gift for your birthday. Could you make a choice?"

"Yes, sir." I said. 

"Which one?" he asked.

"I would like to have the apple tree across the road."

Father looked at me for a long time. You would have to know how much he loved horses to understand the look on his face. But I was twelve years old, how could I explain my choice?

It was sth about the apple tree. The color of the red apples as they hung among the green leaves, but it was more than this. It has sth to do with being proud. I could give one of my apples to my friend, Jane. "Jane", I would say, "I want to give you this apple. It come from my tree. The tree grows on my father's land. Before my father had his land, it belonged to his father, and before that, to his father. Now I own the tree. Because of this I am tied to all my people of a long and way back the Moses and all the Bible people.

Father finally answered, "Now, right, son. If you want the tree more than a horse, the tree is yours."

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