we短篇小说

㈠ 求英语短篇小说！

经典短篇小说好多呢！用词比较简单，但意义深刻！更重要的是每一篇都短小精悍！（符合你的要求哦）
1.《生火》杰克.伦敦 To Build a Fire (Jack LondonP
2.《厄谢尔府的倒塌》 爱伦.坡
The Fall of the House of Usher (Edgar Allan Poe)
3.《项链》莫泊桑 The Necklace (Guy de Maupassant)
4.《警察与赞美诗》欧.亨利 The Cop and the Anthem
(O Henry)
5.《麦琪的礼物》欧.亨利 Magi's gift (O Henry)
6.《最后一片藤叶》欧.亨利 The Last Leaf (O Henry)
7.《加利维拉县有名的跳蛙》马克.吐温 The Notorious Jumping Frog of Calaveras County
（Mark Twain)
8.《人生的五种恩赐》马克.吐温
The Five Boons of Life （Mark Twain)
9.《三生客》 托马斯.哈代 The Three Strangers
(Thomas Hardy)
10.《敞开的落地窗》萨基 The Open Window (Saki)
11.《末代佳人》菲茨杰拉德 The Last of the Belles
(F.S.Fitzgerald)
12.《手》舍伍德.安德森 Hands
13.《伊芙琳》詹姆斯.乔伊斯 Eveline
14.《教长的黑色面纱》纳撒尼尔.霍桑
The Minister's Black Veil

㈡ 求一篇500字左右的英文短篇小说 关于生命与死亡主题的

My Brother’s Suicide Is Helping Save Lives

住在美国阿肯色州的妮基18岁，之前从没有听别人谈论过自杀这回事。但当这事发生在自己家人身上时，她觉得不能再沉默了。
My little brother, Tyler, and I were extremely close growing up. We’d make up top-secret handshakes after watching our favorite show. We spent hours talking about music: I play the clarinet[单簧管], and Ty was a true band geek[怪胎] whose trumpet[小号] was never far out of his reach. Sure, we bickered[斗嘴] over stupid stuff—it drove me crazy when he’d leave up the toilet seat in the bathroom! But we told each other everything. Or so I’d thought.
我和弟弟泰勒自幼就非常亲近。我们会在看完最喜欢的节目后来个秘密握手;我们会花很长时间讨论音乐：我吹奏单簧管，泰则是一个不折不扣的乐队怪胎，小号从不离手。当然，我们也会为一些无聊小事争吵——每次他在浴室上完厕所却没有把厕所板放下我就抓狂!然而我们无话不说——或者我原以为是这样吧。
Dazed [茫然的] and Confused
茫然与困惑
There was nothing particularly memorable about the cold midwinter Arkansas day when Ty killed himself. Ty, 14, got home from band practice and did the usual: cheerfully greeted everyone, then went straight to his room to practice his trumpet. Once dinner was ready, he joined my mom, my dad, and me to eat barbecued[烤肉] chicken while watching TV. I noticed then that Ty wasn’t talking much—typically[通常] he and my dad joked around the whole time. But it didn’t seem like anything was wrong, and after taking out the trash, Ty went back to his room. I had no idea it would be the last time I’d see him.
泰自杀的那个仲冬天，寒冷的阿肯色一切如常，没有发生什么印象特别深刻的事情。14岁的泰参加完乐队训练后回到家，像平常那样高兴地向各人问好，然后径直走回自己房间练习小号。晚餐准备好后，他跟爸爸妈妈和我一边吃烤鸡，一边看电视。我发现泰没怎么说话——通常他和爸爸会不停地开玩笑。但没什么不对劲儿的。倒完垃圾后，泰回到自己的房间。我没想到这是我最后一次见他。
It was nearly 8 o’ clock when I heard what sounded like glass breaking coming from Ty’s room. My dad went to find out what happened, then my mom checked too before dragging[拖，拉] me into their bedroom. “What’s going on?” I asked. She was crying so hard, she couldn’t answer. Then my dad showed up with all of our shoes and coats and screamed, “He’s still got a pulse[脉搏]. We’re going to the emergency room[急救室]!”
差不多8点的时候，我听见泰的房间里传出类似玻璃破碎的声音。爸爸过去看看发生什么事。妈妈也去查看了，之后她把我拉到他们房间。“发生什么事了?”我问。她哭得很厉害，根本无法作答。爸爸随后拿着我们的鞋子和外套出现了，他叫道：“他还有脉搏。我们要去急救室!”
“Oh, my God, I don’t get it! What happened?” I yelled. But no one answered me. All of a sudden, an ambulance[救护车] was at my house, and we got into the car and sped off behind it. When we arrived at the hospital, Mom and I were put in a private room while my dad checked on Ty. “What’s going on?!” I asked again. Mom was hyperventilating[强力呼吸], but she was able to catch her breath enough to say, “Ty tried to kill himself.”
“噢，我的天啊，我不明白!发生什么事了?”我叫道。但没有人回答我。突然，一辆救护车来到我家。我们也上了车，驱车紧跟其后。到达医院后，妈妈和我被安排在一个单间，爸爸则去查看泰的情况。“到底怎么回事?!”我再次问到。妈妈竭力地呼吸，但终于能够缓过气说话：“泰试图自杀。”
I was in total denial[否认]. “That’s not funny!” I yelled. Then my dad returned, looked at my mom, and shook his head as if to say, “Ty didn’t make it.” My mom passed out[昏倒]. I didn’t have any emotion. I wasn’t even crying. NOTHING made sense[有意义].
我一点也不相信。“开什么玩笑!”我叫道。爸爸回来了。他看着妈妈摇了摇头，仿佛在说：“泰没活过来。”妈妈晕倒了。我一点感觉也没有，甚至没有哭。一切都显得毫无意义。
Feeling Lost
怅然若失
After Ty shot himself, my family alternated[交替，轮流] between tears and silence, barely leaving the house. I didn’t go to school for more than four months. I just couldn’t understand why he’d done it—he’d never said that anything was wrong, and it wasn’t until after Ty died that his friend told us that my brother had confessed[承认，坦白] to having thoughts of suicide[自杀]. I went to therapy[治疗], but I didn’t like talking to a stranger. Thankfully my best friend was always there for me, but she never pushed me to share my feelings.
泰开枪自杀后，我们一家总是在眼泪和沉默之间徘徊，几乎没有离开过房子。我有四个多月没去上学。我实在不明白他为什么要这样做——他从未说过有什么问题。泰死后，他的朋友才告诉我们泰曾经承认有自杀的念头。我接受过治疗，但始终不喜欢跟陌生人说话。幸好我最好的朋友一直在我左右，不过她从来不会强迫我说出自己的感觉。
When I returned to school, I was surprised that most people treated me normally. That helped because I wanted to act as if it hadn’t happened. But just because nobody mentioned the word suicide didn’t make it disappear. I felt so alone with my feelings, and I didn’t really have anyone I could turn to who had real experience with suicide.
重返学校后，我很惊讶地发现大多数人像平常那样对我。那很有用，因为我希望一切如常，好像那件事没有发生过。虽然没有人提“自杀”这个词，但并不代表它就消失了。我感到很孤独，也找不到谁有过涉及自杀的真实经历可以帮我。
The following spring, I had to do a project for a community-service class, and I realized my topic should be suicide awareness[意识]. I thought if more people talked about it, maybe it wouldn’t happen to another teen. I called the Arkansas Crisis Center, the group who’d spoken to kids at my brother’s school right after his death. I told them I wanted to raise awareness and keep my brother’s memory alive, and when I asked if I could help organize a walkathon注, they said yes! I was so comforted when I saw hundreds of people show up to support my family and other survivors who’d lost loved ones to suicide—I knew then that I wasn’t alone.
第二年春天，我要为社会服务课做一个方案，我意识到应该以“自杀意识”为主题。我想如果多些人讨论它，也许自杀就不会发生在其他青少年身上。我打电话给阿肯色危机中心，也就是在我弟弟死后到他学校跟孩子们交谈的团体。我对他们说我希望提高人们对自杀的关注，并希望大家记住我弟弟。当我问能否帮忙组织一场步行马拉松时，他们说可以!看到数以百计的人到来支持我们家，看到那些因自杀而失去至爱的人，我倍感欣慰——我知道自己并不是孤身作战。
Shedding Some Light
一点希望
Being open about suicide rather than treating it like a secret felt so incredible that I started to speak at school assemblies[集会]. Sharing Ty’s story is helping me heal, and so far I’ve had two people confess that they had thoughts of suicide. I directed them to help right away. It is so amazing to know that another family wouldn’t have to go through what mine did. If Ty were here, I think he’d be really proud of me and happy to know his life is having such a positive[积极的] effect on others.
坦然面对自杀，而不是将它当作一个秘密，这感觉真好。所以我开始在学校的集会上发言。分享泰的故事帮助我治愈(创伤)。至今已经有两个人向我坦白说他们想过自杀。我马上指引他们接受帮助。知道另一个家庭不用经历我们所经历的一切，真是太好了。如果泰还在，我想他会为我感到十分自豪，也一定会为自己的生命给别人带来积极的影响而高兴。
伸出援手
如果你认识的人想不开，你可以试试以下方法：
发现自杀信号。留意情绪是否有变化——你的朋友已经有两个星期表现得很沮丧;平时喜欢做的事情现在都不做了;情绪起伏不定;或者突然离群独居。
告诉其他人。不要把自杀当成秘密。如果你的朋友承认曾经伤害自己，你要告诉家长或老师——即使他/她要你发誓保密。你或许可以挽救一个生命!
听取意见。你可以咨询当地的防止自杀组织，听取他们的意见。
注：尤指在美国和加拿大为特定事业筹款而进行的步行马拉松。

记得采纳，亲

㈢ 《经典短篇小说101篇经典短篇小说101篇》epub下载在线阅读，求百度网盘云资源

《经典短篇小说101篇》（[美] 欧·亨利）电子书网盘下载免费在线阅读

链接：https://pan..com/s/1lkEDB7rz1uZJExl1HSPXmw

书名：经典短篇小说101篇

作者：[美] 欧·亨利

豆瓣评分：8.6

出版社：天津人民出版社

出版年份：2013-10-1

页数：776

内容简介：

这本《101 Classic Short Stories：经典短篇小说101篇》按全英文版出版，西方流行口袋本。共收集了欧•亨利、杰克•伦敦、霍桑、契诃夫等数十位西方著名短篇小说家的代表作与经典名篇，全书共101篇。读者可以通过书上指定的网址，通过微盘免费下载配套的英文朗读文件，边听边读，感受地道英语文学之乐趣。对于英语学习者来讲，这是一本优秀的英语文学精读手册。

This outstanding collection features 101 short stories by great writers from America, the United Kingdom, Russian, and other countries. Ranging from the 19th to the 20th centuries, writers include O. Henry, Jack London, Nathaniel Hawthorne, Mark Twain, Edgar Allen Poe, Anton Chekhov, James Joyce , Ambrose Bierce, Franz Kafka, and other major writers of world literature. Such a wonderfully wide-ranging and enjoyable anthology!

Invest just a few minutes in a great short story and you may be rewarded with a lesson or memory that lasts a lifetime. And it’s not just the short stories; the authors can also surprise you. We hope that you will return to this collection again and again; to re-read these classic favorites and train your literature mind.

㈣ 推荐一些英文短篇小说

相信你会喜欢这篇短小的小说的。

Appointment With Love －－By Sulamith Ish-Kishor

Six minutes to six, said the great round clock over the information booth in Grand Central Station. The tall young Army lieutenant who had just come from the direction of the tracks lifted his sunburned face, and his eyes narrowed to note the exact time. His heart was pounding with a beat that shocked him because he could not control it. In six minutes, he would see the woman who had filled such a special place in his life for the past 13 months, the woman he had never seen, yet whose written words had been with him and sustained him unfailingly.
He placed himself as close as he could to the information booth, just beyond the ring of people besieging the clerks...
Lieutenant Blandford remembered one night in particular, the worst of the fighting, when his plane had been caught in the midst of a pack of Zeros. He had seen the grinning face of one of the enemy pilots.
In one of his letters, he had confessed to her that he often felt fear, and only a few days before this battle, he had received her answer: "Of course you fear...all brave men do. Didn't King David know fear? That's why he wrote the 23rd Psalm. Next time you doubt yourself, I want you to hear my voice reciting to you: 'Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil, for Thou art with me.'" And he had remembered; he had heard her imagined voice, and it had renewed his strength and skill.
Now he was going to hear her real voice. Four minutes to six. His face grew sharp.
Under the immense, starred roof, people were walking fast, like threads of color being woven into a gray web. A girl passed close to him, and Lieutenant Blandford started. She was wearing a red flower in her suit lapel, but it was a crimson sweet pea, not the little red rose they had agreed upon. Besides, this girl was too young, about 18, whereas Hollis Meynell had frankly told him she was 30. "Well, what of it?" he had answered. "I'm 32." He was 29.
His mind went back to that book - the book the Lord Himself must have put into his hands out of the hundreds of Army library books sent to the Florida training camp. Of Human Bondage, it was; and throughout the book were notes in a woman's writing. He had always hated that writing-in habit, but these remarks were different. He had never believed that a woman could see into a man's heart so tenderly, so understandingly. Her name was on the bookplate: Hollis Meynell. He had got hold of a New York City telephone book and found her address. He had written, she had answered. Next day he had been shipped out, but they had gone on writing.
For 13 months, she had faithfully replied, and more than replied. When his letters did not arrive she wrote anyway, and now he believed he loved her, and she loved him.
But she had refused all his pleas to send him her photograph. That seemed rather bad, of course. But she had explained: "If your feeling for me has any reality, any honest basis, what I look like won't matter. Suppose I'm beautiful. I'd always be haunted by the feeling that you had been taking a chance on just that, and that kind of love would disgust me. Suppose I'm plain (and you must admit that this is more likely). Then I'd always fear that you were going on writing to me only because you were lonely and had no one else. No, don't ask for my picture. When you come to New York, you shall see me and then you shall make your decision. Remember, both of us are free to stop or to go on after that - whichever we choose..."
One minute to six - Lieutenant Blandford's heart leaped higher than his plane had ever done.
A young woman was coming toward him. Her figure was long and slim; her blond hair lay back in curls from her delicate ears. Her eyes were blue as flowers, her lips and chin had a gentle firmness. In her pale green suit, she was like springtime come alive.
He started toward her, entirely forgetting to notice that she was wearing no rose, and as he moved, a small, provocative smile curved her lips.
"Going my way, soldier?" she murmured.
Uncontrollably, he made one step closer to her. Then he saw Hollis Meynell.
She was standing almost directly behind the girl, a woman well past 40, her graying hair tucked under a worn hat. She was more than plump; her thick-ankled feet were thrust into low-heeled shoes. But she wore a red rose in the rumpled lapel of her brown coat.
The girl in the green suit was walking quickly away.
Blandford felt as though he were being split in two, so keen was his desire to follow the girl, yet so deep was his longing for the woman whose spirit had truly companioned and upheld his own; and there she stood. Her pale, plump face was gentle and sensible; he could see that now. Her gray eyes had a warm, kindly twinkle.
Lieutenant Blandford did not hesitate. His fingers gripped the small worn, blue leather of Of Human Bondage, which was to identify him to her. This would not be love, but it would be something precious, something perhaps even rarer than love - a friendship for which he had been and must ever be grateful.
He squared his broad shoulders, saluted and held the book out toward the woman, although even while he spoke he felt shocked by the bitterness of his disappointment.
"I'm Lieutenant John Blandford, and you - you are Miss Meynell. I'm so glad you could meet me. May...may I take you to dinner?"
The woman's face broadened in a tolerant smile. "I don't know what this is all about, son," she answered. "That young lady in the green suit - the one who just went by - begged me to wear this rose on my coat. And she said that if you asked me to go out with you, I should tell you that she's waiting for you in that big restaurant across the street. She said it was some kind of a test. I've got two boys with Uncle Sam myself, so I didn't mind to oblige you."

㈤ 关于“友谊”的短篇英文小说

Friendship is indispensable to people's life. A man without friends is an angel without wings, whose life will suffer in the long tolerance of loneliness and depression. Friendship is the mother of our psyche, who'll warm her kid when hurt occurs. We have much to share with our friends in life, perplexity, excitement, bitterness etc. Alas, it's magnificent to maintain a genuine friendship.

It takes many special qualities to make a friend. Understanding should come first. Only when we get a better understanding of each other can we gain an authentic and meaningful friendship. We may find our hobbies of common interests. This feeling of affinity gets us closer and closer.

It also takes a special kind of love that seems to know no end. Never hesitate to show your heartfelt care and kindness to your friend when he/she is in trouble. Love is not selfish. Love is endowed by God that we should treasure all our life.

Tolerance is the third essential part in friendship. We are absolutely different persons. This indivial distinction may cause conflict between us in every aspect of our life. Don't immerse ourself in this infliction too long. Try to tolerant his/her in an introspective mood. Saints are not perfect, let alone those ordinary people like us. Afterwards, we should get a good communication. Never shy to confess.

Understanding, love and tolerance are the first three essences that comes to an authentic friendship. Other qualities are also concerned such as thoughtfulness, trust and patience. Remember, friendship is your psyche's guard, treasure it
友谊是不可缺少的人们的生活。没有朋友的人没有翅膀的天使,他的生活将会受到在长期的宽容的孤独和抑郁。友谊是我们的母亲心理,谁来温暖自己孩子什么时候伤害的发生。我们有很多一起分享我们的朋友在生活中,困惑,兴奋,苦等。唉,它却是很伟大的维持一个真正的友谊。

要用许多特殊性质为了结交新朋友。理解能先来。只有当我们更好的了解对方就会给我们带来一个真正的和有意义的友谊。我们可能会发现共同利益的业余爱好。这种感觉的亲和力让我们越来越近。

它也需要一种特别的爱似乎知道没有终点的。不要犹豫,尽管显示你并给你的朋友的关心和体贴。当他/她有麻烦了。爱不是自私。爱是赋予上帝,我们应该珍惜一生。

宽容是第三中最重要的组成部分的友谊。我们完全不同的人。这个人的区别可能会引起冲突,在各方面我们生命中的一个大境界了。不要让自己在这所施加的时间太长了。试着宽容他/她的在一个发人深省的心情。圣徒并不完美,更不用说那些一个像我们这样的普通人。后来,我们应该好好沟通。不害羞的承认。

理解、爱和宽容三个基本要素是第一个是一个真正的友谊。其他的品质也对此表示关注,如体贴、信任和耐心。记住,友谊是心灵的后卫,珍惜它

㈥ 求篇英文短篇小说，任何体裁都可以，用做上英语课的演讲用，600——1000字的左右

It was the day before Easter and Peter Cottontail was very busy.As the Chief Easter Bunny,it was his job to hide all the eggs for all the Easter egg hunts around the world.
时间是复活节之前，皮特很忙。作为主要的复活节兔子，他的工作是将所有的为全世界复活节狩猎所需要的蛋藏起来。
Peter wanted to be sure that he had enough of the beautifully colored eggs for everyone.So he was counting them all.But he kept getting distracted and losing count.
皮特想确定他有充足的为复活节而准备的美丽的彩蛋。所以他正在把它们都数一数。但是他一直分神而忘了数的数字。
First,Peter thought he heard the meow of one little kitten.But he didn't see a kitten.Next he thought he heard two meows from two kittens,but he still didn't see anything.
Then Peter thought he heard three meows from three little kittens.
"Maybe they're outside,"thought Peter.So,he opened the door and sure engough...
开始，皮特想他听到了一只小猫的叫声。但是他看不见一只小猫。接着他想他听到了两只小猫的声音，但是他依然什么都看不见。
然后皮特想他看见了三只小猫的声音。
“也许他们在外面，”皮特想。所以他打开门来看个清楚...
There sat three unhappy,little kittens.Peter asked them what was wrong.
"We were playing hide-and-seek with our mitten*,"**plained the kittens."We are very good at hiding,but we are not very good at seeking.And now our mittens are lost."
"If you help me count my eggs,then I can help you find your mittens,"Peter told them.
The three little kittens were so happy that they began to dance and sing.
那里坐着三只不愉快的小猫。皮特问他们有什么麻烦。
“我们用我们的拳击手套玩了‘藏了找’的游戏，”小猫们解释。“我们擅长藏，但是我们不擅长找。现在我们的拳击手套找不到了。”
“假如你们帮助我数我的蛋，然后我就能够帮助你们找到你们的拳击手套，”皮特告诉他们。
那三只小猫如此地高兴以致他们又跳舞又唱歌。
Everyone went into the house and,one-two-three,they counted all the eggs.There were enough eggs for everyone and even three too many.
"Great!"said Peter."It's good to have extra eggs,just in case any break.Now let's find your mittens."
Off went Peter Cottontail and the three little kittens,with Peter Cottontail hopping big-bunny hops and the kittens racing along to keep up.
每个人都进入屋子，一、二、三，他们数了所有的蛋。为每个人准备的蛋是充足的，甚至还多出了三个。
“太好了！”皮特说。“有多余的蛋很好，恰好预防破蛋的情况。现在让我们来找你的拳击手套。”
皮特和三只小猫走出去，皮特跳着大兔步，而三只小猫则跑在后面跟着他。
First,they passed a house made of straw-but no one was there.
Next they passed a house made of sticks.No one was home there either.
Finally,they came to a very nice house made of bricks.
Peter and the three kittens knocked on the door of the pretty brick brick.Soon,three little pigs came out to meet them.
"Welcome!Welcome!"said the three little pigs."We are so glad to have visitors.The Big Bad Wolf chased all our friends away and no one visit us anymore.Won't you come in for a while?"
首先，他们经过了一个由稻草制成的房子，但是每人在家。
接着他们来到一个有树枝做成的房子，也没人在家。
最后他们来到一个由砖头制成的房子。
皮特和三只小猫敲打那个精美的小屋的门。不久，三只小猪出来迎接他们。
“欢迎！欢迎！”三只小猪说。“我们很高兴有人来拜访我们。大坏狼赶走了我们的所有的朋友，再也没人来拜访我们了。你们不进来呆一会吗？”
Peter and the kitten* **plained that they were looking for the kittens' lost mittens.This made the kittens so sad that they began to cry.
"Don't cry,little kittens,"said the three pigs."We haven't see any mittens,but you are welcome to look around."
So everyone looked,but they didn't find the kitten's mittens.
皮特和三个小猫解释他们在寻找小猫丢失的拳击手套。这件事让小猫们哭了起来。
“不要哭，小猫，”三只小猪说，“我们没有看见什么拳击手套。但是欢迎你们在附近找找。”
所以每个人一起看了看，但是他们没有发现小猫的拳击手套。
"You should ask Humpty Dumpty,"suggested the three little pigs."He sits so high up on his wall that he sees everything.Maybe he has seen your mittens."
Peter and the three kittens thanked the pigs and said good-bye.Then off they went.
“你们应该问问汉仆.达谱，”三只小猪建议。“他坐在他家的很高的墙上让他能看见每件事情。也许他看见了你们的拳击手套。”
Before long,they came to a very high wall with a strange,little man sitting on top.
"Excuse me,"said Peter Cottontail,"Are you Humpty Dumpty?"
"Yes,I am,"said the man,"How can I help you?"
不久，他们来到一堵非常高的墙面前，一个陌生的，很小的人坐在墙上。
“对不起，”皮特说，“你是汉仆.达谱吗？”
“是的，”那个人说，“我能帮助你们吗？”
Once again,the three little kitten* **plained how they lost their mittens.And they became so sad that again they began to cry.
"Do not cry,little kittens,"said Humpty Dumpty."This morning I saw three little kittens hide their mittens in the tall grass next to the Babbling Brook."
The three litten kittens began to dance and sing.
"Now we remember!Thank you,thank you!"they cheered.
三只小猫把怎么丢失拳击手套的事又解释了一遍。他们如此地伤心以致他们哭了。
“不要哭，小猫，”汉仆.达谱说，“今天早上我看见三只小猫在胡说河边的高草中藏他们的拳击手套。”
三只小猫开始又跳又唱。
“现在我们记得了！谢谢你，谢谢你！”他们欢呼。

Peter was very happy to have helped the kittens.But suddenly he remembered about Easter.
"Oh no!"he cried."It is almost Easter and I haven't hidden any eggs yet!What will I do?"
皮特很高兴帮助了小猫。但是突然他记得了复活节。
“哦，不！”他喊，“几乎到了复活节了，我还没有将蛋藏好呢！我该怎么办呢？”
"Don't worry."said the three little kittens."You have seen that we are good at hiding things.We will help you hide the eggs."
Peter accepted their help and off everyone rushed,with Peter hopping big-bunny hops and the kittens racing along to keep up.
“不要害怕。”三只小猫说。“你看见了我们擅长藏东西。我们将帮助你来藏蛋。”
皮特接受了他们的帮助，每个人跑起来，皮特跳着大兔步，小猫们在后面奔跑着追赶。
By Easter morning,everything was finished.Best of all,none of the eggs had broken.So Peter gave the three extra eggs to the three little kittens as thanks for all their help.
到了复活节早上，每件事都完成了。最好的是，没有一个蛋被弄破。所以皮特将三个多余的蛋送给了三只小猫作为对他们的帮助的感谢。
--Henry David Thoreau/享利.大卫.梭罗

However mean your life is,meet it and live it ;do not shun it and call it hard names.It is not so bad as you are.It looks poorest when you are richest.The fault-finder will find faults in paradise.Love your life,poor as it is.You may perhaps have some pleasant,thrilling,glorious hourss,even in a poor-house.The setting sun is reflected from the windows of the alms-house as brightly as from the rich man's abode;the snow melts before its door as early in the spring.I do not see but a quiet mind may live as contentedly there,and have as cheering thoughts,as in a palace.The town's poor seem to me often to live the most independent lives of any.May be they are simply great enough to receive without misgiving.Most think that they are above being supported by the town;but it often happens that they are not above supporting themselves by dishonest means.which should be more disreputable.Cultivate poverty like a garden herb,like sage.Do not trouble yourself much to get new things,whether clothes or friends,Turn the old,return to them.Things do not change;we change.Sell your clothes and keep your thoughts.

不论你的生活如何卑贱，你要面对它生活，不要躲避它，更别用恶言咒骂它。它不像你那样坏。你最富有的时候，倒是看似最穷。爱找缺点的人就是到天堂里也能找到缺点。你要爱你的生活，尽管它贫穷。甚至在一个济贫院里，你也还有愉快、高兴、光荣的时候。夕阳反射在济贫院的窗上，像身在富户人家窗上一样光亮；在那门前，积雪同在早春融化。我只看到，一个从容的人，在哪里也像在皇宫中一样，生活得心满意足而富有愉快的思想。城镇中的穷人，我看，倒往往是过着最独立不羁的生活。也许因为他们很伟大，所以受之无愧。大多数人以为他们是超然的，不靠城镇来支援他们；可是事实上他们是往往利用了不正当的手段来对付生活，他们是毫不超脱的，毋宁是不体面的。视贫穷如园中之花而像圣人一样耕植它吧！不要找新的花样，无论是新的朋友或新的衣服，来麻烦你自己。找旧的，回到那里去。万物不变，是我们在变。你的衣服可以卖掉，但要保留你的思想。

㈦ 求一篇短篇小说（英文的，字数500-1000词）

Many artists lived in the Greenwich Village area of New York. Two young women named Sue and Johnsy shared a studio apartment at the top of a three-story building. Johnsy's real name was Joanna. In November, a cold, unseen stranger came to visit the city. This disease, pneumonia, killed many people. Johnsy lay on her bed, hardly moving. She looked through the small window. She could see the side of the brick house next to her building. One morning, a doctor examined Johnsy and took her temperature. Then he spoke with Sue in another room. "She has one chance in -- let us say ten," he said. "And that chance is for her to want to live. Your friend has made up her mind that she is not going to get well. Has she anything on her mind?" "She -- she wanted to paint the Bay of Naples in Italy some day," said Sue. "Paint?" said the doctor. "Bosh! Has she anything on her mind worth thinking twice -- a man for example?" "A man?" said Sue. "Is a man worth -- but, no, doctor; there is nothing of the kind." "I will do all that science can do," said the doctor. "But whenever my patient begins to count the carriages at her funeral, I take away fifty percent from the curative power of medicines." After the doctor had gone, Sue went into the workroom and cried. Then she went to Johnsy's room with her drawing board, whistling ragtime. Johnsy lay with her face toward the window. Sue stopped whistling, thinking she was asleep. She began making a pen and ink drawing for a story in a magazine. Young artists must work their way to "Art" by making pictures for magazine stories. Sue heard a low sound, several times repeated. She went quickly to the bedside. Johnsy's eyes were open wide. She was looking out the window and counting -- counting backward. "Twelve," she said, and a little later "eleven"; and then "ten" and "nine;" and then "eight" and "seven," almost together. Sue looked out the window. What was there to count? There was only an empty yard and the blank side of the house seven meters away. An old ivy vine, going bad at the roots, climbed half way up the wall. The cold breath of autumn had stricken leaves from the plant until its branches, almost bare, hung on the bricks. "What is it, dear?" asked Sue. "Six," said Johnsy, quietly. "They're falling faster now. Three days ago there were almost a hundred. It made my head hurt to count them. But now it's easy. There goes another one. There are only five left now." "Five what, dear?" asked Sue. "Leaves. On the plant. When the last one falls I must go, too. I've known that for three days. Didn't the doctor tell you?" "Oh, I never heard of such a thing," said Sue. "What have old ivy leaves to do with your getting well? And you used to love that vine. Don't be silly. Why, the doctor told me this morning that your chances for getting well real soon were -- let's see exactly what he said ¨C he said the chances were ten to one! Try to eat some soup now. And, let me go back to my drawing, so I can sell it to the magazine and buy food and wine for us." "You needn't get any more wine," said Johnsy, keeping her eyes fixed out the window. "There goes another one. No, I don't want any soup. That leaves just four. I want to see the last one fall before it gets dark. Then I'll go, too." "Johnsy, dear," said Sue, "will you promise me to keep your eyes closed, and not look out the window until I am done working? I must hand those drawings in by tomorrow." "Tell me as soon as you have finished," said Johnsy, closing her eyes and lying white and still as a fallen statue. "I want to see the last one fall. I'm tired of waiting. I'm tired of thinking. I want to turn loose my hold on everything, and go sailing down, down, just like one of those poor, tired leaves." "Try to sleep," said Sue. "I must call Mister Behrman up to be my model for my drawing of an old miner. Don't try to move until I come back." Old Behrman was a painter who lived on the ground floor of the apartment building. Behrman was a failure in art. For years, he had always been planning to paint a work of art, but had never yet begun it. He earned a little money by serving as a model to artists who could not pay for a professional model. He was a fierce, little, old man who protected the two young women in the studio apartment above him. Sue found Behrman in his room. In one area was a blank canvas that had been waiting twenty-five years for the first line of paint. Sue told him about Johnsy and how she feared that her friend would float away like a leaf. Old Behrman was angered at such an idea. "Are there people in the world with the foolishness to die because leaves drop off a vine? Why do you let that silly business come in her brain?" "She is very sick and weak," said Sue, "and the disease has left her mind full of strange ideas." "This is not any place in which one so good as Miss Johnsy shall lie sick," yelled Behrman. "Some day I will paint a masterpiece, and we shall all go away." Johnsy was sleeping when they went upstairs. Sue pulled the shade down to cover the window. She and Behrman went into the other room. They looked out a window fearfully at the ivy vine. Then they looked at each other without speaking. A cold rain was falling, mixed with snow. Behrman sat and posed as the miner. The next morning, Sue awoke after an hour's sleep. She found Johnsy with wide-open eyes staring at the covered window. "Pull up the shade; I want to see," she ordered, quietly. Sue obeyed. After the beating rain and fierce wind that blew through the night, there yet stood against the wall one ivy leaf. It was the last one on the vine. It was still dark green at the center. But its edges were colored with the yellow. It hung bravely from the branch about seven meters above the ground. "It is the last one," said Johnsy. "I thought it would surely fall ring the night. I heard the wind. It will fall today and I shall die at the same time." "Dear, dear!" said Sue, leaning her worn face down toward the bed. "Think of me, if you won't think of yourself. What would I do?" But Johnsy did not answer. The next morning, when it was light, Johnsy demanded that the window shade be raised. The ivy leaf was still there. Johnsy lay for a long time, looking at it. And then she called to Sue, who was preparing chicken soup. "I've been a bad girl," said Johnsy. "Something has made that last leaf stay there to show me how bad I was. It is wrong to want to die. You may bring me a little soup now." An hour later she said: "Someday I hope to paint the Bay of Naples." Later in the day, the doctor came, and Sue talked to him in the hallway. "Even chances," said the doctor. "With good care, you'll win. And now I must see another case I have in your building. Behrman, his name is -- some kind of an artist, I believe. Pneumonia, too. He is an old, weak man and his case is severe. There is no hope for him; but he goes to the hospital today to ease his pain." The next day, the doctor said to Sue: "She's out of danger. You won. Nutrition and care now -- that's all." Later that day, Sue came to the bed where Johnsy lay, and put one arm around her. "I have something to tell you, white mouse," she said. "Mister Behrman died of pneumonia today in the hospital. He was sick only two days. They found him the morning of the first day in his room downstairs helpless with pain. His shoes and clothing were completely wet and icy cold. They could not imagine where he had been on such a terrible night. And then they found a lantern, still lighted. And they found a ladder that had been moved from its place. And art supplies and a painting board with green and yellow colors mixed on it. And look out the window, dear, at the last ivy leaf on the wall. Didn't you wonder why it never moved when the wind blew? Ah, darling, it is Behrman's masterpiece ¨C he painted it there the night that the last leaf fell."

㈧ 求海明威短篇小说《一天的等待》的点评！最好另外附有作者的语言特色的！

像这篇《等待的一天》(上海外语教育出版社1997年版的《大学英语》精读第三册第六单元)，讲的是一个九岁的男孩，由于不了解“华氏”（Fahrenheit）和“摄氏”（Celsius）换算方法，误以为自己快要发烧烧“死”了。小说形象、具体、细致地刻画了在“一天的等待死亡”过程中，小男孩所表现出来的不畏死神的勇气。

海明威曾经表明他的立场：“作家最困难的工作莫过于描写人物时要真实，要做到这一点，作家要十分熟悉自己所要描写的对象，其次必须懂得怎样写。光是这两点就够你学一辈子了。”事实上，这篇短篇小说也确实取材于他和他儿子的一次真实的乡村度假的经历。狩猎鹌鹑也是他驾轻就熟的事情。同时，读了“我”（爸爸）去狩猎鹌鹑的详细的描写后，我们从中可以体味到在严寒中，也就是逆境中一切生灵的顽强的生命力。

海明威力求生动而精确地表达印象深刻的重大尖锐时刻，表达那种“对事物真谛的顿悟”的经历。有读者认为，在这篇小说中，“父亲象征了知识和力量，儿子则象征了天真和无知”。可以说这是从一个视角来诠释该处的象征意义。但我以为海明威在这里的笔墨并不是着重于表现儿子的“天真和无知”，而是着重于他面对死亡所表现出的勇气以及对父母的体谅。他具体形象地把一个九岁的小孩，压抑情感的过程，刻画得淋漓尽致。这些对压抑的情绪的描写在本篇小说中随处可见。如“我”给儿子读故事时小说是这样描述的：

I sat at the foot of the bed and read to myself while I waited for it to be time to give another capsule. It would have been natural for him to go to sleep, but when I looked up he was looking at the foot of the bed, looking very strangely(以一种奇怪的眼神望着床角).

另外，当男孩拒绝他人进入自己的房间时，“我”散步回来后看到儿子还是“我出去时躺着的姿势，脸色煞白，由于发烧脸蛋绯红，像先前那样怔怔望着床角”（…….. staring still, as he had stared, at the foot of the bed.。所有这些表明， 这个男孩在拼命压抑自己的情绪，在那躺着静静地等待“死亡”。

我认为一个九岁的小孩，由于知识和阅历所限，在以为自己“快要死了”的情形下所表现出的“隐忍、坚强和勇气”，才是海明威所想展现给读者的。他并不是一个特别无知的孩子，他认为自己得了感冒，于是不想让自己的父母也被冻病，所以“He came into the room to shut the windows while we were still in bed……..”。他已经浑身发抖了，面色苍白，走路都困难了，（He was shivering , his face was white, and he walked slowly as though it ached to move.）， 但他想到的还是父母，并且忍受着病痛不想让父母担心。请看父子的简短对话：

“You better go back to bed.”

“No. I’m all right.”

当“我”下楼后看到儿子确实病得不轻时，又说：

“You go up to bed, you are sick”.

但儿子仍然说：“I’m all right.”

另一地方就是当“我”散步回来后，家人告诉“我”儿子拒绝让任何人进入他的房间.他虽然内心很恐惧，真的以为自己快死了，但他还是为家人考虑，怕他们感染上他的病：

“You can’t come in. You mustn’t get what I have.”短短的一句话，一个九岁男孩面对死亡的态度和形象跃然纸上。

海明威的风格简约明快，形象富于动作性。他运用视觉、触觉和听觉等感觉刻画形象，如小说中的许多地方对男孩的眼神的描写，给我留下了深刻的印象，具有很强的可见性。另外，《等待的一天》中，到处可见以对话和细节间接地暗示主题和意向，增强了作品的含蓄和隐晦。因为海明威曾经把自己的作品比作“漂浮在海上的冰山”，强调其作品的内在的寓意：“露出水平的只有八分之一，还有八分之七深藏水下。”下面的对话，经过细细品味，可以发现作者就是利用双关（Pun）的修辞方法来暗示主题和突出主人公个性的：

“Why don’t you try to sleep? I’ll wake you up for the medicine.”

“I’d rather stay awake”(儿子的言外之意是自己宁愿“醒”着，因为他认为自己已经没多久可活了)。

儿子还对“我”说：“You don’t have to stay in here with me, Papa, if it bothers you.”

“It doesn’t bother me.”

“No, I mean you don’t have to stay here if it’s going to bother you.”（寓意“儿子”的死肯定将会使“爸爸”难受、心烦的）。

由于对体温的华氏和摄氏的误解，男孩真的以为自己吃药也不会“起死回生”了，但他还是用平静的语气和安祥的眼神来宽慰“我”。下面这段儿子与父亲的对话，作者用反语法（Irony）和双关（Pun）来加强戏剧效果，更加深刻地刻画男孩的“视死如归”的复杂心理：

(眼睛直直地朝前看着)

从上面的分析中， 我们可以看出一个九岁的男孩在“一天的等待”中（wait for death to come），所走过的心路历程。我们也更清楚地了解了海明威想展示给读者的主题—— “人生的意义就在于一种精神，即敢于承受痛苦，蔑视死亡”。

读着这些精练、寓意深刻的对话，读者可以看出，海明威在一种貌似粗犷朴实的笔触下流动着极为深沉炽热的情感。在他的小说中没有为了渲染人物性格的华丽词藻；没有一些必不可少的说明和议论；更没有蹩脚的形容和华而不实的比喻。他破除了毫无生气的文章俗套，砍掉了一切花花绿绿的修饰，以简洁冼练的文笔还文章以本来面目。正如英国作家欧.贝茨所说：“他以谁也不曾有过的勇气，把英语中附着于文学的‘乱毛’剪了个干净”。

海明威虽然没有开创一个新的文学流派，却是一位开一代文风的语言艺术大师。他简约有力的文体和多种现代派手法的出色运用,在美国文学中曾引起了一场”文学革命”,许多欧美作家都明显受到了他的影响。但让我无法理解的是，被海明威所摒弃的，却被时下我们的许多文人当宝贝似地捡回，乐此不疲地制造着成堆的文字垃圾。我们的百岁老人海明威如果还活着的话，他会做何感想呢？

㈨ 英语短篇小说

The last leaf (a script) Ting \ Muzi Cast: props: Aside: bed-yan, a few paintings, leaves, instant noodles Susan: actor-man clothing, hats, music WEST HAINAN: Ting Door Bell: Quarter 1,2,3,4 neighbors: Xia, Cong, Qi, Jing Music sounded ... ... Aside: the late autumn in New York, the usual bustling and noisy lost all that had to be attributed to cold, invisible to the naked eye, the uninvited guest, doctors told him to "pneumonia." The destroyer in the streets of New York flagrant follow step down on all of a sudden more than a dozen victims. Washington Square in the west side of a hut, his hand and knocked down a west wind blowing in California was not the color Ruonv Zi. WEST HAINAN lying on a painted iron bed, motionless, staring out the window opposite the Netherlands-brick walls of the space. In the early morning ... ... Susan: WEST HAINAN. WEST HAINAN: Oh, Susan you back. (Weakly) Susan: I come back. (She reached the bedside, holding her hand) WEST HAINAN: a doctor he is gone? Susan: he is gone. I am not a doctor, he would lead the way, he afraid, I am afraid it is also a lifetime can not get out of this maze-like a small alley! (With a resentment) WEST HAINAN: 12,11,10 ... ... Susan: WEST HAINAN, what do you have a few? WEST HAINAN: that the window of ivy leaves less and less, but a good number. (Sad) Susan: What it leaves those few, carefully cold, I went to the curtains in one way or another! WEST HAINAN: No, do not! (Urgent) Susan: well, I do not pull, to come to lie down, do not go to a good number of those leaves? WEST HAINAN: poor leaf, not a soon left the ... ... afraid I do not catch cold? Go to heaven, not afraid of anything. Susan: nonsense, the doctor just said that he told me that you are going to a good, he said that you are so young and so beautiful, such a small point of how disease might hurt you? This is the doctor said to me! (Holding her hand and a tighter) WEST HAINAN: Susan, looked at me, you cried, do not deny that if I healed quickly, then why do you cry? I am poor, I do not silly. I have read the newspapers, the influenza-inced pneumonia has claimed the lives of many people, me, and I was next. Susan: No! They will not. WEST HAINAN: This is like the leaves of the Federation of drop-off, and so on that last leaf to fall, I had to leave. Narration: WEST HAINAN pale, lying quietly, Xiang Yizun live down the collapse of the statue, she said, eyes closed ... ... WEST HAINAN: I want to watch because it's the last rattan leaves fall off. I get impatient, and so on. Would like to get impatient. I think out of all, as a poor, tired of the rattan leaves, long way down Gone with the Wind, Gone with the Wind ... ... Music sounded ... ... Susan: I said you stupid you are stupid, so young and so beautiful you are, how can their lives and it leaves a little to link them? I said that you should not, I can not say so, I said that you should not WEST HAINAN. (With tearful voice) WEST HAINAN: Susan, I Bieguai, I do not want to leave you, do not want to leave this world, I could have been the best. This leaves just as it did not want to fall, but it does not have the strength. Susan: No, WEST HAINAN. We do not want those leaves, please? Let's think about those things better, let us think of the Gulf of Naples, think of Van Gogh's hometown, think of the Seine in Paris. WEST HAINAN: hey, right right, we have agreed to go to Europe, to realize our dream to become an artist.

㈩ 有什么英语短篇小说推荐

1. “A Good Man is Hard to Find,” Flannery O’Connor

Few short stories have stuck with us as much as this one, which is probably O'Connor's most famous work — and with good reason. The Misfit is one of the most alarming serial killers we've ever met, all the more so for his politeness, and the story’s moral is so striking and terrifying that — whether you subscribe to the religious undertones or not — a reader is likely to finish and begin to reexamine their entire existence. Or at least we did, the first time we read it.
《好人难寻》这篇小说是奥康纳最为著名的作品，很少有其他短篇小说能像这篇一样给我们带来震撼。无论你是否能明了宗教般的潜在含义，看完这篇小说读者都会开始或是结束对存在的检视。

2. “The School,” Donald Barthelme

This story is very short, but pretty much perfect in every way. Though Barthelme is known for his playful, post modern style, we admire him for his ability to shape a world so clearly from so few words, chosen expertly. Barthelme never over explains, never uses one syllable too many, but effortlessly leads the reader right where he wants her to be. It's funny, it's absurdist, it's sad, it's enormous even in its smallness. It may be this writer’s favorite story of all time. You should read it.
这篇小说很短，但是堪称完美。巴塞尔姆的优秀就在于他能用精选的极少几个文字就为我们叙述了一个世界。他很少过多地解释，就把读者带到了他想要你去地方。

3. “In The Penal Colony,” Franz Kafka

Kafka called this one his“dirty story,”and thought it imperfect, but it's one of our favorites of his (though we also recommend “The Hunger Artist”and“A Country Doctor”). It's so obviously a story about writing, in some ultimate way — a machine punishes its victims by writing on them over and over until their bodies give out — but its as if, while the body is the source of every problem in the tale, every weakness, it is also the only place where true knowledge can be translated.
卡夫卡称自己的这篇小说是一个“很脏的故事”，认为并不完美，但是这个短篇确实我们的最爱之一。在小说中，我们可以体会到，身体是一切问题和弱点的根源，但身体也是唯一能转化真知的地方。

4. “Signs and Symbols,”Vladimir Nabokov

Another short one, we revere this story for its ability to turn every tiny detail into a portentous disaster, not to mention the fact that it's penned in Nabokov's effortlessly gorgeous, silvery prose. An old Jewish couple goes to visit their son in the mental hospital, only to be turned away because he has attempted to kill himself. And that's it, really. They go home and look though a photo album, eat some jam. The phonerings. But the whole thing is, perhaps, both a comment on the nature of insanity and the nature of the short story itself, with all its rules and strangeness and banality. And all its symbols, of course.
我们喜欢这篇小说的原因就在于，这个故事有能力把每个细微的细节瞬间变为一场灾难，而Nabokov在写这篇小说用的是轻松华丽水银泻地般的散文风格。

5. “Gooseberries,” Anton Chekhov

Chekhov's stories are indisputably among the greats, and this one, written rather late, is one of our favorites. Chekhov probes at both the frailty and the worth of humanity, not to mention the natureof life, both for the fortunate and the unfortunate. But like most of Chekhov's stories, there's no clear moral, there's no obvious takeaway. Some men sit around and discuss their thoughts, and we listen, mulling over the subtleties for ourselves.
契科夫的小说无疑是最伟大的作品之一，而这篇是我们的最爱。这篇小说像他的其他小说一样，没有清晰的道德标准，我们只是静静地看着几个人围坐着，讨论他们的思想。

6. “Sea Oak,” George Saunders

“Sea Oak” is Saunders's favorite of his own stories, we've heard, so because we find it so hard to choose among them, we've included it here on his own recommendation. Absurdist and satirical, and including at least one zombie shouting at her housemates to get laid, it's a weird one. But it's also concerned with placelessness, with family, with poverty, and like all of Saunders's stories, has a good, thumping heart under all that darkness and fun-poking.

这部小说是桑德斯最为喜爱的一步短篇，这也是我们听说的。因为我们很难做出选择，因此就把他自己的推介放在了这里。这部小说充满了荒诞和讽刺，但是也关心家庭和贫穷等问题。像他的其他小说一样，在黑暗和取笑中，也暗含着美好和快乐。

7. “The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas,” Ursula K. LeGuin

LeGuin's parabolic tale, which won the Hugo Award for best short story in 1974, is a weird, spacious story about a city that seems to be a utopia — except for its one flaw, the single child that must always be kept in darkness and wretched misery so that the others may all live happily. Most of the citizens eventually accept this, but some do not, and silently leave the city, vanishing into the world around. Strange but pointed, Le Guin is a master of her genre.
勒古这部寓言般的短篇小说获得过1974年的“雨果奖”，是关于一个类似乌托邦的城市的荒诞又宏大的故事。

8. “The Veldt,” Ray Bradbury

This tale, from one of the greatest science fiction writers in history, is deliciously wicked. Though it was written in 1950, this kind of story — of children driven mad by want, of technology turning on its masters — will never get old. Until technology actually turns on us, that is. Then we probably won't want to hear about it.
布莱伯利作为历史上最富盛名的科幻小说家，这篇小说也是通过精心编写的。

9. “The Bear Came Over the Mountain,” Alice Munro

The undisputed queen of the short story, Alice Munro’s work is stark and often heartbreakingly raw, and this story of memory loss and the aching tenderness of human interaction is no different. Fun fact: this story was adapted into the film “Away from Her”, starring Julie Christie and Gordon Pinsent.

门罗是毫无争议的短篇小说女王，她的作品有一种朴实风格，常常带着心跳般的粗犷，这篇关于丧失记忆以及人类互动中的痛苦和柔弱的小说也不例外。

10. “The Nose,” Nikolai Gogol

Gogol might be the oldest writer on this list, but he’s also one of the weirdest — in a good way. Nabokov once wrote, “In Gogol…the absurd central character belongs to the absurd world around him but, pathetically and tragically, attempts to struggle out of it into the world of humans — and dies in despair.” What else can an absurd noseless man do, after all?
果戈里应该是这个书单上最久远的作家了，但是他也是最荒诞的小说家之一。纳博科夫曾近这样写道：“在果戈里的作品中，荒诞的人物属于他周围荒诞的世界，但是却可怜兮兮且悲惨地要逃离他的世界，最终死于绝望”。