著名英文小說短篇片段

1. 英文短篇小說《the blue jar》（Isak Dinesen的）中文翻譯。

英國一位富有的老先生，年輕時任過內閣大臣，也當選過議會議員；如今年紀大了，無欲無求，獨愛搜藏青瓷老古董。為此他偕同女兒海琳娜，不惜遠渡重洋到波斯，日本還有中國尋覓愛物。一個寂靜之夜，這對父女坐的輪船進入中國海域時意外失火了。漆黑和混亂之中，別的乘客很快轉移到救生船中，海琳娜卻還在著火的船上，就這樣與老父親斷了聯系。等她逃上甲板，整艘船已被燒毀得差不多了，眼看就要將她葬身火海。這時一位年輕的英國水手出現了，二話不說背起她，安全登上最後那隻被逃生者們慌亂之下遺忘的救生船。黑暗的海面泛起大片磷光，猶如大火從四面八方涌來，追趕吞噬著這兩個亡命者。彼時，二人仰起頭，一顆流星劃過夜空，好像瞬間就要落入他們船里一樣。整整九天過去，兩人才被救上一條荷蘭商船，最後總算回到了英國。

原以為女兒早已葬身火海的老爵士這會是喜極而泣，不能自已。為了讓身心受難的女兒盡早康復，老先生匆匆將她安頓在一個溫泉療養勝地。他還想到，萬一這個在航海業謀生的年輕水手大嘴巴，全世界都會知道海倫娜和一個陌生男人孤男寡女在海上漂了九天，這肯定會讓女兒很不開心。於是老爵士給了水手一大筆錢，並讓他承諾只在另一個半球繼續航海，永遠不再回英國。老先生說，這不正是好人做到底嗎？

海倫娜身體恢復得差不多時，旁人給她講王宮和家族的動態，最後還說了那個救她的年輕水手永遠離開英國的來龍去脈，他們發現海倫娜精神上依舊受那次大難折磨著，而且她變得對世間一切事都不在乎了。她不想回到父親大庄園的城堡，也不想去宮里，或游覽任何一個歐洲怡人小鎮。她唯一想要做的事就是和父親以前一樣，去搜集珍稀青瓷。於是海琳娜開始航海旅行，從一個國家到另一個國家，這次是父親一直陪在左右。

尋找青瓷時，海琳娜跟賣瓷器的人說，她正在找一種特別的藍色，願意為之付出任何代價。她買過數千隻青瓷罐和瓷碗，但過一段時間就擱到一旁，嘆道：「唉，這不是我想要的那種藍呢。」 陪她航行多年的父親勸道：也許根本就沒有這種顏色存在吧。「天啊，爸爸，你怎能說這種喪氣話呢？曾幾何時我們的世界一切都是藍藍的，肯定會有那麼一些遺留下來啊。」海琳娜十分堅定地說。

遠在英國的兩位姑媽都懇求外甥女回家，並要給她介紹好人家。但海琳娜回答說：「不不不，我必須去航行。親愛的姑姑啊，你們一定都知道，有學之士宣揚大海是有底的，那是謬論胡說。正好相反，大自然中最高貴的海水，肯定是貫通大地的，所以我們的地球實際上像一個肥皂泡般浮在宇宙之中。而在另一個半球有這么一艘船航行著，我的船必須跟它齊驅並駕。在深海之中，兩只船像是彼此的倒影。我乘的船正下方就是前面所說的那艘船，它就在地球的另一面行駛著。你們從沒見過會有一條很大很大的魚在船底之下，如一個暗黑的影子在海里隨船而行吧。但我們這兩艘船恰恰就是這樣，不管我坐的船在地球大部分區域穿行到哪，另一個半球那隻船就像影子一樣，被牽引著來回移動，這和潮水在月亮的引力下漲起退去是差不多的道理。如果我停止航行，那些靠航海謀生的出身不好的水手怎麼辦？」 海琳娜還說：「我得告訴你們一個秘密，在最後的最後，我坐的船會下沉，直到地球中心，另一隻船也會在同一時間沉下來，就如通常人們說的沉沒。但我可以向你們保證，在海里沒有你上我下，因為在世界的最中心，我們兩只船會相遇在一起。

一年又一年過去，老爵士作古了，海倫娜也變成失聰的老太太，卻未曾停止航行。大清帝國的頤和園被入侵洗劫後，有位商人給她帶來了一個古老的青瓷罐。一看到它海琳娜就發出一聲可怕的尖叫：「就是它！」她哭喊著：「我總算找到了！這是真正的藍！瞧，它真讓人暈眩！天啊，它清新得像一陣柔美的微風，又深邃得好如一個玄妙的秘密，還圓潤得像我說過的什麼來著？」海琳娜雙手顫顫巍巍，將瓷罐捧入懷里，靜靜凝思著，六個小時就這么過去了。其後她對私人醫生和女伴說：「現在我可以死去了。到時請把我的心取出來，安放在這個青瓷罐里，那樣一切都回到最初的模樣。我的世界會化作藍色，在這個純藍天地的最中心，我的心純潔而自由，還會溫柔地跳動，像輪船航海的尾波輕輕哼唱，像槳葉劃動的水滴盈盈滑落。」一小會兒後她問到：「相信只要懷著耐心，一切美好都能重現——這不是一件很杏糊的事嗎？」 不久之後，老太太離開了人世。

2. 海明威的小說The killers的主題是什麼，200左右，英文的~謝謝~

寫作思路：首先要了解海明威的小說《殺手》的主要內容，然後梳理文章的主要情節，比如海明威的《殺手》是一篇耐人尋味、含義深刻的故事，從其結構形式和思想主題上來考察，都是一篇完美無缺的短篇小說典範。

正文：

"The killer" is about two killers who are hired to come to a small restaurant. They tie up the chef and wait for the boxer to appear. However, the murder plan fails because the boxer doesn't come. Little guy Nick rushed to the boxer's small apartment to inform the news, but saw that the boxer was indifferent to the impending death, waiting to be captured. Shocked, Nick returns to the restaurant and is determined to leave the city.

《殺手》講述了兩個殺手受人僱傭來到一家小餐館，一邊捆綁伙計廚師，一邊等待拳擊手的出現，謀殺計劃卻因拳擊手沒來而告失敗。小伙計尼克趕到拳擊手的小公寓去通風報信，卻見拳擊手對即將面臨的殺身之禍無動於衷，等待束手就擒。倍感震驚的尼克回到餐館，決意離開這個城市。

Hemingway's "the killer" is an intriguing and profound story. From the perspective of its structure and theme, it is a perfect short story model. Because of its superb narrative art and strong drama, his works are frequently included in various literary books and adapted into films for three times. Meanwhile, it has attracted the attention of literary researchers and critics.

海明威的《殺手》是一篇耐人尋味、含義深刻的故事，從其結構形式和思想主題上來考察，都是一篇完美無缺的短篇小說典範。因其高超的敘述藝術與濃厚的戲劇性，作品頻繁地被收錄到各種文學讀本，並三次被改編成電影，同時還不停地受到文學研究者和批評界的關注。

The killer, published in 1927, is one of Hemingway's works after experiencing the first World War. It also shows his confused feelings.

《殺手》發表於1927年，也就是海明威經歷了第一次世界大戰後所作的作品之一，同樣流露出了迷惘的情感。

The original intention of the lost generation is to refer to the young people who were killed in the first World War and those who survived but were in a state of spiritual and moral dissociation. In the history of literature, it refers to the American novelists who express the feelings of the lost generation. Hemingway is the leader of this group of writers.

迷惘的一代原意是指在第一次世界大戰中被殺害的年輕人和倖存下來但在精神上和道德上處於游離狀況的年輕人，而在文學史上是指表現迷惘一代生存下來的情感的美國小說家，其中海明威是這一作家群的領頭羊。

The so-called perplexity is actually a kind of disillusionment after the war, that is, the worry about people's living conditions is not ideal. It is the writer's strong reaction to the impact of war, violence and death threat on people.

所謂迷惘，其實是指戰後的一種幻滅的情緒，即對人們生存狀況不理想所表現出的憂慮，是作家對戰爭、暴力和死亡威脅給人們帶來的影響的強烈反應。

3. 跪求3-5篇英語短篇小說的主要內容與人物評價！！！（用英文！~）

2. In a small town of st petersburg, have a very naughty, but a good boy, tom, he hates school for the insipidity of the life, hoping that can and the like the exciting life. one day, tom and huckleberry had left home and went to a desert island, a few days of his life. they know that a case, a critical moment, tom has a very fierce ： joe. tom was afraid of retaliation by joe,Was always uneasy. he and huckleberry a haunted house when he found joe, then the murderer death in the cave. tom and huck ley had a lot of coins.

1。The old man and the sea is a fisherman eighty-four days have hooked a fish, and nearly died of hunger ； but he still wouldn't admit defeat in the eighty-fifth day catches a great fish. fish mullin pulled the boat to the sea, but the old man still held, even if there is no water, no food, no, no, he does not lose heart. after two days and nights later, he eventually killed the fish, and put it on a ship.But many of the shark was immediately come to rob him of killing them, all ； him to last only a broken on the tiller as a weapon. however, the fish were still wet, finally, the old man just dragged a 魚骨 head. he went home in bed, from dreams of yesteryear to find a good time.

4. 急需一個英文短篇小說 500〜800字！求快！要原創型的！

El Sordo was making his fight on a hilltop. He did not like this hill and when he saw it he thought it had the shape of a chancre. But he had had no choice except this hill and he had picked it as far away as he could see it and galloped for it, the automatic rifle heavy on his back, the horse laboring, barrel heaving between his thighs, the sack of grenades swinging against one side, the sack of automatic rifle pans banging against the other, and Joaqu璯 and Ignacio halting and firing, halting and firing to give him time to get the gun in place.
There had still been snow then, the snow that had ruined them, and when his horse was hit so that he wheezed in a slow, jerking, climbing stagger up the last part of the crest, splattering the snow with a bright, pulsing jet, Sordo had hauled him along by the bridle, the reins over his shoulder as he climbed. He climbed as hard as he could with the bullets spatting on the rocks, with the two sacks heavy on his shoulders, and then, holding the horse by the mane, had shot him quickly, expertly, and tenderly just where he had needed him, so that the horse pitched, head forward down to plug a gap between two rocks. He had gotten the gun to firing over the horse's back and he fired two pans, the gun clattering, the empty shells pitching into the snow, the smell of burnt hair from the burnt hide where the hot muzzle rested, him firing at what came up to the hill, forcing them to scatter for cover, while all the time there was a chill in his back from not knowing what was behind him. Once the last of the five men had reached the hilltop the chill went out of his back and he had saved the pans he had left until he would need them.
There were two more horses dead along the slope and three more were dead here on the hilltop. He had only succeeded in stealing three horses last night and one had bolted when they tried to mount him bareback in the corral at the camp when the first shooting had started.
Of the five men who had reached the hilltop three were wounded. Sordo was wounded in the calf of his leg and in two places in his left arm. He was very thirsty, his wounds had stiffened, and one of the wounds in his left arm was very painful. He also had a bad headache and as he lay waiting for the planes to come he thought of a joke in Spanish. It was, "_Hay que tomar la muerte como si fuera aspirina_," which means, "You will have to take death as an aspirin." But he did not make the joke aloud. He grinned somewhere inside the pain in his head and inside the nausea that came whenever he moved his arm and looked around at what there was left of his band.
The five men were spread out like the points of a five-pointed star. They had g with their knees and hands and made mounds in front of their heads and shoulders with the dirt and piles of stones. Using this cover, they were linking the indivial mounds up with stones and dirt. Joaqu璯, who was eighteen years old, had a steel helmet that he g with and he passed dirt in it.
He had gotten this helmet at the blowing up of the train. It had a bullet hole through it and every one had always joked at him for keeping it. But he had hammered the jagged edges of the bullet hole smooth and driven a wooden plug into it and then cut the plug off and smoothed it even with the metal inside the helmet.
When the shooting started he had clapped this helmet on his head so hard it banged his head as though he had been hit with a casserole and, in the last lung-aching, leg-dead, mouth-dry, bulletspatting, bullet-cracking, bullet-singing run up the final slope of the hill after his horse was killed, the helmet had seemed to weigh a great amount and to ring his bursting forehead with an iron band. But he had kept it. Now he g with it in a steady, almost machinelike desperation. He had not yet been hit.
"It serves for something finally," Sordo said to him in his deep, throaty voice.
"_Resistir y fortificar es vencer_," Joaqu璯 said, his mouth stiff with the dryness of fear which surpassed the normal thirst of battle. It was one of the slogans of the Communist party and it meant, "Hold out and fortify, and you will win."
Sordo looked away and down the slope at where a cavalryman was sniping from behind a boulder. He was very fond of this boy and he was in no mood for slogans.
"What did you say?"
One of the men turned from the building that he was doing. This man was lying flat on his face, reaching carefully up with his hands to put a rock in place while keeping his chin flat against the ground.
Joaqu璯 repeated the slogan in his dried-up boy's voice without checking his digging for a moment.
"What was the last word?" the man with his chin on the ground asked.
"_Vencer_," the boy said. "Win."
"_Mierda_," the man with his chin on the ground said.
"There is another that applies to here," Joaqu璯 said, bringing them out as though they were talismans, "Pasionaria says it is better to die on your feet than to live on your knees."
"_Mierda_ again," the man said and another man said, over his shoulder, "We're on our bellies, not our knees."
"Thou. Communist. Do you know your Pasionaria has a son thy age in Russia since the start of the movement?"
"It's a lie," Joaqu璯 said.
"_Qu?va_, it's a lie," the other said. "The dynamiter with the rare name told me. He was of thy party, too. Why should he lie?"
"It's a lie," Joaqu璯 said. "She would not do such a thing as keep a son hidden in Russia out of the war."
"I wish I were in Russia," another of Sordo's men said. "Will not thy Pasionaria send me now from here to Russia, Communist?"
"If thou believest so much in thy Pasionaria, get her to get us off this hill," one of the men who had a bandaged thigh said.
"The fascists will do that," the man with his chin in the dirt said.
"Do not speak thus," Joaqu璯 said to him.
"Wipe the pap of your mother's breasts off thy lips and give me a hatful of that dirt," the man with his chin on the ground said. "No one of us will see the sun go down this night."
El Sordo was thinking: It is shaped like a chancre. Or the breast of a young girl with no nipple. Or the top cone of a volcano. You have never seen a volcano, he thought. Nor will you ever see one. And this hill is like a chancre. Let the volcanos alone. It's late now for the volcanos.
He looked very carefully around the withers of the dead horse and there was a quick hammering of firing from behind a boulder well down the slope and he heard the bullets from the submachine gun thud into the horse. He crawled along behind the horse and looked out of the angle between the horse's hindquarters and the rock. There were three bodies on the slope just below him where they had fallen when the fascists had rushed the crest under cover of the automatic rifle and submachine gunfire and he and the others had broken down the attack by throwing and rolling down hand grenades. There were other bodies that he could not see on the other sides of the hill crest. There was no dead ground by which attackers could approach the summit and Sordo knew that as long as his ammunition and grenades held out and he had as many as four men they could not get him out of there unless they brought up a trench mortar. He did not know whether they had sent to La Granja for a trench mortar. Perhaps they had not, because surely, soon, the planes would come. It had been four hours since the observation plane had flown over them.
This hill is truly like a chancre, Sordo thought, and we are the very pus of it. But we killed many when they made that stupidness. How could they think that they would take us thus? They have such modern armament that they lose all their sense with overconfidence. He had killed the young officer who had led the assault with a grenade that had gone bouncing and rolling down the slope as they came up it, running, bent half over. In the yellow flash and gray roar of smoke he had seen the officer dive forward to where he lay now like a heavy, broken bundle of old clothing marking the farthest point that the assault had reached. Sordo looked at this body and then, down the hill, at the others.
They are brave but stupid people, he thought. But they have sense enough now not to attack us again until the planes come. Unless, of course, they have a mortar coming. It would be easy with a mortar. The mortar was the normal thing and he knew that they would die as soon as a mortar came up, but when he thought of the planes coming up he felt as naked on that hilltop as though all of his clothing and even his skin had been removed. There is no nakeder thing than I feel, he thought. A flayed rabbit is as well covered as a bear in comparison. But why should they bring planes? They could get us out of here with a trench mortar easily. They are proud of their planes, though, and they will probably bring them. Just as they were so proud of their automatic weapons that they made that stupidness. But undoubtedly they must have sent for a mortar too.
One of the men fired. Then jerked the bolt and fired again, quickly.
"Save thy cartridges," Sordo said.
"One of the sons of the great whore tried to reach that boulder," the man pointed.
"Did you hit him?" Sordo asked, turning his head with difficulty.
"Nay," the man said. "The fornicator cked back."
"Who is a whore of whores is Pilar," the man with his chin in the dirt said. "That whore knows we are dying here."
"She could do no good," Sordo said. The man had spoken on the side of his good ear and he had heard him without turning his head. "What could she do?"
"Take these sluts from the rear."
"_Qu?va_," Sordo said. "They are spread around a hillside. How would she come on them? There are a hundred and fifty of them. Maybe more now."
"But if we hold out until dark," Joaqu璯 said.
"And if Christmas comes on Easter," the man with his chin on the ground said.
"And if thy aunt had _cojones_ she would be thy uncle," another said to him. "Send for thy Pasionaria. She alone can help us."
"I do not believe that about the son," Joaqu璯 said. "Or if he is there he is training to be an aviator or something of that sort."
"He is hidden there for safety," the man told him.
"He is studying dialectics. Thy Pasionaria has been there. So have Lister and Modesto and others. The one with the rare name told me."
"That they should go to study and return to aid us," Joaqu璯 said.
"That they should aid us now," another man said. "That all the cruts of Russian sucking swindlers should aid us now." He fired and said, "_Me cago en tal_; I missed him again."
"Save thy cartridges and do not talk so much or thou wilt be very thirsty," Sordo said. "There is no water on this hill."
"Take this," the man said and rolling on his side he pulled a wineskin that he wore slung from his shoulder over his head and handed it to Sordo. "Wash thy mouth out, old one. Thou must have much thirst with thy wounds."
"Let all take it," Sordo said.
"Then I will have some first," the owner said and squirted a long stream into his mouth before he handed the leather bottle around.
"Sordo, when thinkest thou the planes will come?" the man with his chin in the dirt asked.
"Any time," said Sordo. "They should have come before."
"Do you think these sons of the great whore will attack again?"
"Only if the planes do not come."
He did not think there was any need to speak about the mortar. They would know it soon enough when the mortar came.
"God knows they've enough planes with what we saw yesterday."
"Too many," Sordo said.
His head hurt very much and his arm was stiffening so that the pain of moving it was almost unbearable. He looked up at the bright, high, blue early summer sky as he raised the leather wine bottle with his good arm. He was fifty-two years old and he was sure this was the last time he would see that sky.
He was not at all afraid of dying but he was angry at being trapped on this hill which was only utilizable as a place to die. If we could have gotten clear, he thought. If we could have made them come up the long valley or if we could have broken loose across the road it would have been all right. But this chancre of a hill. We must use it as well as we can and we have used it very well so far.
If he had known how many men in history have had to use a hill to die on it would not have cheered him any for, in the moment he was passing through, men are not impressed by what has happened to other men in similar circumstances any more than a widow of one day is helped by the knowledge that other loved husbands have died. Whether one has fear of it or not, one's death is difficult to accept. Sordo had accepted it but there was no sweetness in its acceptance even at fifty-two, with three wounds and him surrounded on a hill.
He joked about it to himself but he looked at the sky and at the far mountains and he swallowed the wine and he did not want it. If one must die, he thought, and clearly one must, I can die. But I hate it.
Dying was nothing and he had no picture of it nor fear of it in his mind. But living was a field of grain blowing in the wind on the side of a hill. Living was a hawk in the sky. Living was an earthen jar of water in the st of the threshing with the grain flailed out and the chaff blowing. Living was a horse between your legs and a carbine under one leg and a hill and a valley and a stream with trees along it and the far side of the valley and the hills beyond.

5. 求一篇短篇小說（英文的，字數500-1000詞）

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."

6. 世界上最短的科幻小說，只有一句話卻意味深長

說到科幻小說，人們往往會想到《三體》、《北京折疊》、《湮滅》、《銀翼殺手》等作品，這些小說通常描繪宏大的世界觀，講述復雜的故事。

不過，今天我要介紹的是一部短篇科幻小說。

這部小說的特別之處在於其長度，僅一句話。

這部小說名叫《最後一個人》，由美國著名科幻小說家弗里蒂克·布朗創作，英文原文如下：

「The last man on earth sat alone in a room. There was a knock on the door....」

這是一部堪稱世界上最短的科幻小說。

全文僅17個單詞，簡潔明了。即使翻譯成中文，也只有25個漢字：「地球上最後一個人獨自坐在房間里，這時，忽然響起了敲門聲......」

盡管它只有這短短的一句話，卻已經具備了小說的三要素：人物、情節、環境！

人物：最後一個人；

情節：一個人坐著，聽到了敲門聲；

環境：地球上的一個房間。

因此，它足以被視為一部完整的小說。

科幻文學不僅以誇張的表達和廣闊的想像空間吸引人，還有懸念。這部小說在這幾個方面已經做得相當出色。

故事中，地球上只剩下了一個人，為什麼？其他人都去了哪裡？是都死了，還是移民到了其他星球？地球上究竟發生了什麼？懸念重重！

既然地球上只有一個人，那麼他為什麼會聽到敲門聲？敲門的是誰？是人類、動物，還是外星人或更高級的智慧生命？

他會去開門嗎？如果開了門，又會發生什麼？會不會開門後地球上連最後一個人都失去了？未來會發生什麼？故事的結局又如何？

每個人都會根據自己的想像力來解讀這個故事，一千個讀者眼中有一千個哈姆雷特，這部短篇科幻小說也是如此。

因此，《最後一個人》這部科幻小說在世界范圍內引起了巨大反響，許多人將其視為經典之作。

這就是被公認為世界上著名的最短的科幻小說之一！

7. 求英文短篇小說,謝謝各位.

Black Horse 黑駿馬

Jed got to the top of the mountain and sat down to rest. The July sun had made him hot.
傑德到了山頂，就坐下來休息。7月底太陽使他熱汗淋淋。

It had been a long walk to the top and he was tired. He knew the horse he was trying to capture could not be too far away. He looked at the mountain and the valleys below, searching footmarks left by the horse.
他走了很長一段路才到山頂的，所以感到渾身乏力。他知道他想方設法要逮住的那匹馬離此不會太遠。他察看折山上及下面的山谷，尋找著那匹馬留下的蹄印。

Then he saw the marks going down the other side of the mountain. He must capture the horse. He knew better men than he had tried. Tom Raglan, the best rancher in the state, had tried with the help of his cowboys.
這時，他看到在山的另一側，順坡而下有一行馬蹄印。他一定要逮住這匹馬。他知道曾有比他更有能耐的人嘗試過。州內最好的牧場主湯姆·拉格倫就曾經在他那幫牛仔的幫助下做過嘗試.

But they had not been able to capture it. It had gotten away from others, too. They all said it was too wild. It could not be captured.
但他們並沒有能逮住它,其他試圖去逮它的人也都失敗了，都讓它逃脫了。他們都說他太野，是不可能被逮住的。

After a slow, painful walk down the mountain, Jed came to a cool-looking river. He drank the clear water.順著山路向下，慢慢地、艱難地走了一段之後，傑德到達一條水看上去十分清澈的河邊，喝了幾口河水。

Further down the valley he saw the black horse. It stood under a tree out of the sun. Jed moved closer, then hid behind a tree to watch. It was the biggest and blackest and blackest he had ever seen.
接著又沿山谷向前走了一段，這是他看到了那匹黑馬，他站在一棵樹下遮太陽。傑德又走進了些，然後躲在一棵樹後觀察。這是他有生以來見過的最大、最黑的馬。

Jed knew all about horse. He had grown into a man caring for them. He had never earned more than '10 but he had dreams: If he could get a male and female house and 10 hectares of land, he could sell horses. That would be all the happiness Jed wanted.
傑德對馬了如指掌。他是一個從小與馬廝混、在馬背上長大的人。盡管他掙的錢從來沒有超過10美元，但他有自己的夢想：如果他能夠得到一匹公馬、一匹母馬和10公頃土地，他就可以養馬並以賣馬為生了。那就是傑德想要得到的全部幸福了。

Night came. The big black house moved from under the tree and began to eat grass near the river. Jed watched again. A few hours later, he found a soft place in the ground. He placed his head against an old fallen tree and slept.
夜幕降臨。那匹大黑馬從樹下走了出來，走到河邊開始吃草。傑德繼續觀察著。幾小時後，他在地上找了一塊柔軟的地方，將頭靠在一棵倒著的老樹上睡著了。

The next day he woke with the sun. His eyes searched for the horse, and there it was, grazing. Jed saw how it ate, then lifted its head and looked all around. It was the mark of the wild, always looking for hidden danger.
第二天日出時他醒了過來，馬上就用目光尋找那匹馬，還好，它就站在那裡，正吃著草呢。傑德看著它吃草，隨後又見它抬起頭，朝四周看看。這就是野馬的特徵：它們總是十分小心，不時地看看四周是否有什麼暗藏的危險。

Jed started to walk toward the horse. The horse stopped eating and looking at Jed. Jed's heart began to beat heavily. Men had said the horse was a killer. Still, he walked closer.
傑德開始慢慢向它走近。它停止吃草，看著傑德。傑德的心開始「咚咚」直跳。人們都說這馬是一個殺手，但他還是繼續向它靠近。

Fifteen meters away from the horse Jed stopped. The horse had lifted its front feet high in the air, then placed them heavily back on the ground. Jed moved closer. He talked to the horse in a soft voice.
在離它15米遠的地方，傑德停了下來。只見它高高的抬起前蹄，然後又重重的落回原地。傑德又走近了些。他開始柔聲跟它說話。

Then, with a loud scream, the horse turned and ran down the valley. Jed sank to the ground wet with excitement. He had done what no man had done.
接著，隨著一聲響亮的嘶鳴，這匹馬轉身順著山谷跑了下去。傑德卻因興奮而渾身大汗淋漓，倒在地上。他已經做了別人沒有做到的事兒.

He had almost touched the wild horse. The animal was not a killer. If it had been, Jed would be dead now.
他幾乎快要挨到這匹野馬了。它並不是一個殺手，如果它是的話，傑德現在已經沒命了。

For six days he followed the horse. He rested when the horse rested. Jed did not like the land they were in now. The sides of the valley were high and filled with big rocks. Few trees were around. And the bottom of the valley was soft and wet.
他一連跟蹤了這匹馬6天。只有馬歇的時候，他才歇。傑德不喜歡他現在所呆的地方。這山谷的兩側都很高，到處是大岩石，周圍沒有多少樹，而且谷底又軟又濕。

Jed watched the horse a while, and then lay down to sleep.
傑德又看了一會兒馬，隨後躺下來睡覺。

In the middle of the night, he was awakened by thunder and rain. He walked up the rocks until he found a dry hole, safe from the rain, and he slept again.
半夜十分，他被雷雨聲驚醒。他立刻沿著岩石向上走，直到找了一個可以蔽雨的乾燥的山洞，他再接著睡。

The next day was cold and wet. Heavy rains had softened the bottom of the valley. He followed the house most of the day. The wet valley was the only place it could walk now.
第二天又冷又濕。大雨已經泡軟了谷底的土壤。這一天他大部分時間都在跟著馬走。濕濕的山谷是現在它唯一可以行走的地方了。

The sides of the valley had gotten higher. Toward evening he saw it again. But this time there was fear in its face. He stopped and watched. The horse's nose was smelling the air. It smelled danger. It smelled danger.
越走，山谷兩側就顯得越高。臨近黃昏時分，他才又見到了它，但這次它的臉上出現了一種恐懼的神情。他停下來仔細觀察，只見馬鼻子在嗅著空氣，他聞到了危險的氣息。

Jed thought of wild animals, a wildcat(鏈接至同目錄下wildcat）or bear maybe. He pulled his knife from his pants. He looked among the rocks but saw nothing.
傑德想到是不是有什麼野獸，一隻豹貓，也可能是一隻熊。他從褲子里抽出刀，在岩石間四處看看，但什麼也沒有看見。

He began walking toward the horse. The wildcat could have been on either side of the valley. He walked slowly, trying to watch both sides at the same time.
他便向馬走過去。豹貓可能在山谷的某一側。他走得很慢，盡力同時看著兩側。

Slowly he came to the horse's side. Jed kept watching the rocks. If the cat was going to attack, it would do it now. He felt the excitement of danger.
慢慢地，他來到了馬身邊。傑德一直盯著那些岩石。豹貓如果要襲擊，它現在就會跳出來的。他感到既危險又興奮。

Suddenly the silence was broken. The black horse screamed loudly, a cry of fear. It began running down the wet valley.
突然，寂靜被打破了。黑駿馬大聲嘶叫起來，那是一種充滿恐懼的叫喊。隨後，它順著濕漉漉的山谷奔跑起來。

At the same time there was a heavy, deep noise from the rocks. Then it happened. Tons of wet earth and big rocks began moving down the sides of the mountain. The land itself was the enemy.
與此同時，岩石中傳出了一種沉重的、深沉的響聲。緊接著，事情就發生了。成噸成噸的濕土和大岩石開始從山坡兩側滾落下來。原來山地本身就是馬的敵人。

When the air became clear, Jed looked for the horse. In front of him were tons of the fallen earth. He could not see down the valley and could not see the horse.

當空氣恢復清新的時候，傑德立刻開始找馬。在他面前是滾落下來的成噸的泥土，他無法看到山谷的前方，也看不到馬。

He slowly climbed over the fallen rocks. On the other side was the horse, more frightened than ever. Its legs were stuck in the soft earth and it could not move. The more it struggled, the deeper it sank in the mud.

他慢慢地爬過那些落下來的岩石。馬在這個石土堆的另一邊，看上去比先前更加恐懼。它的腿陷入了軟土裡，動彈不得。 而它越掙扎，就在泥中陷的越深。

Jed walked toward the animal. Each step he took, the soft mud tried to suck him down, too. He walked on the grassy places harder than the mud.

傑德向它走過去。他每走一步都感到軟泥也在將他向下吸，而且在長草的地方走比在泥里走還要艱難。

When he got to the horse, it was in the mud up to his stomach. Now it could move only its head. Jed felt wildly happy when he touched the horse. 「Don't struggle and do not worry, Horse! I'll get you out!」

當他趕到馬身邊的時候，泥已經驗到了馬肚上，現在它只剩下頭部還能動彈。摸到馬，傑德感到欣喜若狂。「別掙扎，別擔心，馬兒！我會把你弄出來的！」

Suddenly he felt the horses teeth on his arm. He bit his lip to stop it from crying aloud. His free hand gently calmed the horse and slowly it let go. It pressed its nose against Jed's face. At last they were friends.

突然，他趕到馬的牙齒咬住了他的手臂。他咬住嘴唇，以防自己疼得叫出聲來。他用那隻沒被咬著的手輕撫馬身，使它平靜下來，慢慢地讓它松開了嘴。隨後，馬將鼻子貼在了傑德的臉上。最後，他們成了朋友。

Now Jed could go to work. He studied the problem carefully. He had no way to lift the big horse from the mud. Certainly his rope was not strong enough.

現在傑德可以開始忙活了。他仔細研究了這個問題。他沒有辦法將這么大的一匹馬從泥里拽出來，它的繩子顯然不夠結實。

He began to pull the mud away with his hands. But more mud fell into the hole he g. He ran to the rocks that had fallen down the mountain. He took off his shirt and filled it with rocks. He g again.

他開始用手將泥刨開，但這樣以後，更多的泥又落進了他剛挖開的窟窿里。他就跑到那些山上落下的岩石邊，脫下襯衣將岩石裹住，又挖了起來。

Only this time, he placed rocks in the holes he g. The rocks stayed still and slowly a wall began to form. He did this through the day and when night came, his hands were bloody, torn by the sharp rocks.

這一次，他將岩石放進他挖開的窟窿里，岩石穩穩地呆在裡面，慢慢地形成了一面擋土石壁。他整整挖了一天。夜幕降臨時，他的兩手已經被尖銳的岩石劃得血淋淋的。

He knew night would be a bad time for the horse. He did not want it to become frightened and struggle against the wall of rock he was building in the mud.

他知道，夜晚對馬來說是很難熬的。他不想讓馬害怕，以至於掙紮起來踢壞他在泥里建好的石壁。

He cut some small trees, laid them on the ground next to the horse and all through the night, he spoke soft, kind words to it to calm its fears.

他砍了一些小樹，將它們放在馬旁邊的地上。另外，整整一夜，他都跟馬說一些溫柔友善的話來解除它的恐懼。

The next morning, he brought grass for it to eat and began his work again. It was slow, hard work. When night came, he lay next to the horse again. He did not want it to struggle yet. The time had not come for the test.

第二天早上，他抱來些草讓它吃，然後又開始忙活起來。這是一項好時而又艱苦的工作。夜幕降臨時，他又在馬旁邊躺了下來。現在他還不想讓馬從泥中掙脫出來，考驗的時機還沒有到。

By the middle of the next day, he had enough rocks in the mud on one side of the horse. Now he began to dig near the houses front legs. His rocks began to make the mud harder. The horse was able to move a little.

到第三天中午的時候，他在馬一邊的泥里放進了足夠的岩石。現在他開始挖馬前腿附近的土了。他放的岩石使泥地堅硬了起來，馬開始能動一點兒了。

And when the pressure became less, it raised one of its front legs on to the rocks. It pushed against the rocks on its side and lifted its body a little out of the mud.

而感到壓力變小了的時候，馬便將它的一條前腿拔了出來，翹到了岩石的上面，然後朝身邊的岩石猛蹬，使它的身體從泥里稍微抬起了點兒。

Jed got his rope and tied it around the horses neck. He began to pull on the rope.

傑德拿出繩子，將它繫到馬的脖子上，開始拉繩。

The horse felt the pull and struggled with all its power against the mud. It raised its other front leg on the rocks and with a mighty push with its back legs and with Jed pulling on its neck, it moved forward toward hard land.

馬感到了拉力，就用盡全力在泥里向外掙扎。他將另一條前腿也拔出來，搭在了岩石上，靠著後腿的巨大蹬力和傑德對它脖子施加的拉力，他向前面的硬地移動著。

Jed fell on the earth, happy but tired. He had not eaten for three days. He had slept little. Half sleep, he felt the horses nose push against his face. He jumped to his feet and when he brought grass for the horse it made friendly noises and playfully pushed him.

傑德倒在地上，高興而又疲憊。他已經三天沒吃東西了，睡的覺也不多。正有點迷迷糊糊的，他感到馬的鼻子拱到了他的臉上，他趕快一躍而起。當他為馬抱來草料時，馬發出了友好的叫聲，頑皮地拱拱他，和他戲耍。

A week later, a big black horse rode on the land owned by Tom Raglan. It stopped near the ranch house. A little man got off the horses back. Tom Raglan looked at the horse with eyes that did not believe. Finally he said: "You got him."

一周之後，有人騎了一匹大黑馬來到牧場主湯姆·拉格倫的領地上。他在牧場房邊停下來，一名小個子男人從馬背上跳了下來。湯姆·拉格倫用吃驚的眼光看著這匹馬，眼前的情景簡直令他難以置信。最後，他說：「你得到了他。」

"I got him, Tom, and I brought him back as I said I would."

「我的得到了他，湯姆，而且正像我說過的那樣，我把他騎回來了。」

Raglan looked at the horse. Above all, he was a horseman and there was no need for Jed to tell him how he captured it. Jed's tired face, his torn hands, dirty clothes and thin body told the story.

拉格倫看著馬。他畢竟是一個馬主，沒有必要讓傑德告訴他是怎麼逮住馬的。傑德疲憊的臉、劃爛的手、骯臟的衣服和瘦弱的身體就已說明了一切。

「Jed,」 Raglan said. 「that horse will kill anyone except you. I do not want it. But I have not forgotten my promise."

「傑德，」拉格倫說，「那匹馬會弄死除你之外的任何人，我不想要它。但我沒忘記自己的諾言。

"I will give you some land and the old house in back of the ranch if you will keep the horse there. I pay you '30 a month, if you will let me send my female horses to the black horse."

如果你讓這匹馬一直呆在這兒，我就把一些土地和牧場後邊的那坐老房子送給你。如果你讓我把我的母馬送到你的黑駿馬那裡去交配的話，我會每個月付給你三十美元。

"I want the black horse's blood in my horses. And you can keep every seventh horse for yourself.」

我想要我的馬的身體力都有黑駿馬的血統。而且，你可以留下交配後產下的小馬中的七分之一。」

Jed put his arm around the black horse. The black horse was his. His dream had come true. It was too much all at once.

傑德伸出手臂，抱住大黑馬。黑駿馬成他的了。他的夢想已經變為現實了。突然之間，他得到的真是太多了。