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[American Story] 【整理】2008-03-08 The Californian's Tale (1)

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My homework
Now the weekly Special English program: American Stories. Our story today is called the Californian Tale. It was written by Mark Twin. Here is Shep  O'neal with the story.

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 S. The S. is like heaven on earth. It had bright green hills and deep forest where soft winds touch the trees. Other men also looking for gold had reached the S. hills many years before I did. They had built a town in the valley with sidewalks, stores, banks and schools. They had also built pretty little houses for their families. At first, they found a lot of gold, but their good luck did not last. After a few years, the gold disappeared. By the time I reached the S., many people were gone, too.Now grass grew in the streets and houses were covered by wild rose bushes, only the sound of insects filled the air as I walked through the empty street at summer time so long ago. Then I realized that I was not alone after all. A man was smiling at me when he stood in front of one of little houses. This one was not covered by wild rose bushes. A nice garden in front of the house was full of blue and yellow flowers, curtains hang from the windows and floated in  soft summer wind. Still smiling, the man opened the door of his house and motioned to me, I went inside and I couldn't believe my eyes. I had been living for weeks in the rough mining camp with other gold miners, slept on the hard ground, ate canned beans from the cold  metal plates and spent our days in the difficult search for gold.

But here in this little house, my spirit seemed to come to life again. I saw a bright rug on the shining wooden floor , pictures hang 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's all her work, everything in this room has filled the touch of her hand"
HW


It was written by Mark Twin. Here is Shep O'Neal with the story. When I was young, I went looking for gold in Califonia. I never found enough to make me rich but I did discover a beautiful part of the country. It was called the Stanislow. The Stanislow was like heaven on earth. It had bright green hills and deep forests where soft winds touched the trees. Other man, also looking for gold, had reached the Stanislow hills of Califonia many years before I did. They had built a town in the valley with sidewalks and stores, banks and schools. They had also built pretty little houses for their families. At first, they found a lot of gold in the Stanislow hills, but their good luck did not last. After a few years, the gold disappeared. But the time I reached the Stanislow. All the people were gone to. Grass now grew in the streets and the little houses were covered by wild roses and bushes. Only the sound of insects fills 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 as he stood in front of one of the little houses. This house was not covered by wild gross bushes. A nice little garden in front of the house was full of blue and yellow flowers. White curtons hung from the windows and floated in the soft summer wind. Still smiling, the man opened the door of his house and motions 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 down the hard ground, ate cand beings from cold metal place and spent our days in the difficult search for gold. Here in this little house, my spirits seems to come to life again. I saw a bright rog on the shining wooden floor. Pictures hung all around the room and on little tables there were see shows, 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."
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Homework
Now the weekly Special English program Americanstories.

Our story today is called the Californian's tale. It was written by Mark Twain. Here is shipponio with the story.

When I was young, I went looking for gold in California, I never found it enough to make me rich, but I did discover a beautiful part of our country. It was called the XX. The XX was like heaven on earth, It had bright green hills and deep forests where soft winds touched trees. Other men also looking for gold had reached the XX of California many years before I did. They built a town in the valley ,with sidewalks and stores, banks and schools. They had also built pretty little houses for their families.

At first they found a lot of gold in the XX, but their good luck did not last. After a few years, the gold disappeared. By the time I reached the XX, all the people were gone to 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 walk through the empty town the 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 float in the soft summer wind. Still smiling, the man opened the door of his house and motions 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 mital plates and spent our days in the difficult , search for gold. During 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."
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homework:
Now, this is the special English programme, a American story.
Our story today is called "the California’s tale”, written by Mark Twain.
When I was young, I went looking for gold in California. I don’t find enough to make me rich, but I did discover a beautiful part of the country. It was called the S~. the S~ was like heaven on earth. It had bright green hills, and deep forests where soft winds touched the trees.
Other man still looked for gold had reached the S~’s hill of California many years before I did. They had built a town in the valley(山谷) with sidewalks, stores(商店), banks and schools. They had also built pretty little houses for their families. At first, they found a lot of gold in S~’s hill. But their luck did not last. And after few years, the gold disappeared. At that time, I reached the S~ hill. All the people were gone, too. Grass now grow in the streets and the little houses were covered with wild rose bushes. Only the sound of the insects filled the air as I walked through the empty town that the summer day so long ago. Then, I realized, I was not alone after all. A man was smiling at me as stood in front of one of the little houses. This house was not covered by wild rose bushes. A beautiful garden in front of the house was full of yellow and blue flowers, white curtains hung from the windows and floated in the soft summer wind. Still smiling, the man opened the door of his house and motioned to(示意……过来) me. I went inside and could not believe my eyes. I have been living for weeks in rough mining camps(矿营) with other gold miners(矿工). We slept on the hard ground, ate canned beans from cold metal plates and spent the days in difficult search for gold. Here in this little house, my spirit seemed to come to life again. I saw a bright rug(地毯) on the shinning wooden wall. Pictures hanged all around the room and on little tables there were seashells, books and China vases full of flowers. A women had made this house into a home. The pleasure I felt in my heart must have showed on my face. The man read my thoughts:” yes.” He smiled. “.It was all her work. Everything in the room has felt the touch of her hand.
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HW

本帖最后由 偏冷19 于 2013-4-11 00:30 编辑

Now, the weekly special English program “American stories”. Our story today is called “The californian’s tale”.It was written by Mark Twain, here is Shep O’Neal with the story.
When I was young ,I went looking for gold in californian. I never found  enough to make me  rich,but I did discover a beautiful part of the country.It was called the stanislaus ,the stanislaus is like  heaven on earth,it have bright green hills.and big(deep) forest where  soft winds touched the trees,Other men, also looking for gold,have reached the Stanislaus’hills in Californian many years before I did, they had built a town in the valley, with sign work(sidewalks) and the stores, banks and .schools. they had also built pretty little houses for their families,effects(at first) they found a lot of gold in the stanislaus hills,but they good luck did not last,After a few years,the gold disappeared,but the time I reached the stanislaus,all the people were gone, to(too) ,grass now grew in the streets, and the little houses were covered by the wild rose bushes,only the sound of inset(insect) filled the air, has I walked through the empty town that summer day so long ago,
then , I realized I was not alone after all, a man is smiling at me as he do(stood) in front of one of the little houses. this house was not covered by the wild rose bushes. a nice little garden in front the house was full of blue and yellow flowers. white  curtains hang(hung) from the windows and flowing(floated) in the soft summer wind, 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 my linming cans(mining camps) with other gold mimners, we slat(slept) on the hot ground, eight(ate) can(canned) being(beans) from cold metal places(plate),and spend our days in the difficult search for gold, here in this little house, my spirit seems to come to life again, I saw a bright rug on the shinning wooden floor, pictures
Hang(hung) all around the room and on the little tables ,there was Seashells ,books, and china visas(vases)full of flowers, a woman had made this house into a home.
the pleasure I felt in my heart must their s(shown)on my face, the man random my shops(read my throughts). yes, he smiled ,it is  all her work, everthing in this room has felt the touch with her hand.

HW

Now the Weekly Special English program American Stories.
Our story today is called "The Californian's Tale".It was written by Mark Twain.Here is Shep O'Neal with the story.

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 Stanislaus".The Stanislaus was like heaven on earth. It had bright green hills and deep forests where soft winds touched the trees.Other man 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 side works and  stores,banks and schools.They had also built pretty little houses for their families.

At first,they found a lot gold in the Stanislau Hills,but their good luck did no 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 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 smilling 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 hang from the windows and floated in the soft summer wind.Still smilling,the man opened the door of the 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 groud,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 hang all around the room,and on little talbes 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 showed 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."
Now the weekly special english program american stroies.our story today is called the canifornia tale,it was written by Martwai,here is shapnie with the story.

When i was yang,i went looking for gold in carnifornia,i never found enough to make me rich,but i did discover a beatufiful part of the country.it was called stanislua,the stanislua was like heaven on earth.it had bright green hills and deep forestswhere soft winds touched the trees,other man also looking for gold,had reached the stanislua hills of carnifornia many years before i did.they had bulit town in the vally with side walks,some stores,banks and schools,they also bulit pretty little house for the families,at first they found a lot of gold in the stanislua hills,but their good luck did not last,after a few years,the gold disappear,by the time, i reched the stanislua,and all the people were gone,too.grass now grew in the streets,and little houses were covered by rose wild bushs
,only the sound of insects was filld 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 rose wild bushs,a nice garden in front of the little house was fulled blue and yellow flowers,white curtains hung from windows and floated in soft summer winds,still smiling, the man open 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 slep on hard ground,and ate canned beans from cold metal plates and spent our days in difficult search for gold,here in this little house,my spirit seemed to come to my life again,i saw a bright rug on the shining wooden floor,pictures hung all around the room and on the little tables there were seashells,books and china vases full of flowers,the woman had made this house into a home,the pleasure i felt of my heart must shown on my face,the man read my thoughts,yes,he smiled, it was all her work, everything in this house has felt the touch of her hand
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