自己編一個英文短篇小說

1. 求篇英文短篇小說，任何體裁都可以，用做上英語課的演講用，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.
時間是復活節之前，皮特很忙。作為主要的復活節兔子，他的工作是將所有的為全世界復活節狩獵所需要的蛋藏起來。
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.
皮特想確定他有充足的為復活節而准備的美麗的彩蛋。所以他正在把它們都數一數。但是他一直分神而忘了數的數字。
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...
開始，皮特想他聽到了一隻小貓的叫聲。但是他看不見一隻小貓。接著他想他聽到了兩只小貓的聲音，但是他依然什麼都看不見。
然後皮特想他看見了三隻小貓的聲音。
「也許他們在外面，」皮特想。所以他打開門來看個清楚...
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.
那裡坐著三隻不愉快的小貓。皮特問他們有什麼麻煩。
「我們用我們的拳擊手套玩了『藏了找』的游戲，」小貓們解釋。「我們擅長藏，但是我們不擅長找。現在我們的拳擊手套找不到了。」
「假如你們幫助我數我的蛋，然後我就能夠幫助你們找到你們的拳擊手套，」皮特告訴他們。
那三隻小貓如此地高興以致他們又跳舞又唱歌。
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.
每個人都進入屋子，一、二、三，他們數了所有的蛋。為每個人准備的蛋是充足的，甚至還多出了三個。
「太好了！」皮特說。「有多餘的蛋很好，恰好預防破蛋的情況。現在讓我們來找你的拳擊手套。」
皮特和三隻小貓走出去，皮特跳著大兔步，而三隻小貓則跑在後面跟著他。
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，他們經過了一個由稻草製成的房子，但是每人在家。
接著他們來到一個有樹枝做成的房子，也沒人在家。
最後他們來到一個由磚頭製成的房子。
皮特和三隻小貓敲打那個精美的小屋的門。不久，三隻小豬出來迎接他們。
「歡迎！歡迎！」三隻小豬說。「我們很高興有人來拜訪我們。大壞狼趕走了我們的所有的朋友，再也沒人來拜訪我們了。你們不進來呆一會嗎？」
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.
皮特和三個小貓解釋他們在尋找小貓丟失的拳擊手套。這件事讓小貓們哭了起來。
「不要哭，小貓，」三隻小豬說，「我們沒有看見什麼拳擊手套。但是歡迎你們在附近找找。」
所以每個人一起看了看，但是他們沒有發現小貓的拳擊手套。
"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.
「你們應該問問漢仆.達譜，」三隻小豬建議。「他坐在他家的很高的牆上讓他能看見每件事情。也許他看見了你們的拳擊手套。」
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，他們來到一堵非常高的牆面前，一個陌生的，很小的人坐在牆上。
「對不起，」皮特說，「你是漢仆.達譜嗎？」
「是的，」那個人說，「我能幫助你們嗎？」
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.
三隻小貓把怎麼丟失拳擊手套的事又解釋了一遍。他們如此地傷心以致他們哭了。
「不要哭，小貓，」漢仆.達譜說，「今天早上我看見三隻小貓在胡說河邊的高草中藏他們的拳擊手套。」
三隻小貓開始又跳又唱。
「現在我們記得了！謝謝你，謝謝你！」他們歡呼。

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?"
皮特很高興幫助了小貓。但是突然他記得了復活節。
「哦，不！」他喊，「幾乎到了復活節了，我還沒有將蛋藏好呢！我該怎麼辦呢？」
"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。」三隻小貓說。「你看見了我們擅長藏東西。我們將幫助你來藏蛋。」
皮特接受了他們的幫助，每個人跑起來，皮特跳著大兔步，小貓們在後面奔跑著追趕。
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.
到了復活節早上，每件事都完成了。最好的是，沒有一個蛋被弄破。所以皮特將三個多餘的蛋送給了三隻小貓作為對他們的幫助的感謝。
--Henry David Thoreau/享利.大衛.梭羅

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.

不論你的生活如何卑賤，你要面對它生活，不要躲避它，更別用惡言咒罵它。它不像你那樣壞。你最富有的時候，倒是看似最窮。愛找缺點的人就是到天堂里也能找到缺點。你要愛你的生活，盡管它貧窮。甚至在一個濟貧院里，你也還有愉快、高興、光榮的時候。夕陽反射在濟貧院的窗上，像身在富戶人家窗上一樣光亮；在那門前，積雪同在早春融化。我只看到，一個從容的人，在哪裡也像在皇宮中一樣，生活得心滿意足而富有愉快的思想。城鎮中的窮人，我看，倒往往是過著最獨立不羈的生活。也許因為他們很偉大，所以受之無愧。大多數人以為他們是超然的，不靠城鎮來支援他們；可是事實上他們是往往利用了不正當的手段來對付生活，他們是毫不超脫的，毋寧是不體面的。視貧窮如園中之花而像聖人一樣耕植它吧！不要找新的花樣，無論是新的朋友或新的衣服，來麻煩你自己。找舊的，回到那裡去。萬物不變，是我們在變。你的衣服可以賣掉，但要保留你的思想。

2. 加西亞·馬爾克斯在何時發表了第一個短篇小說

18歲時，加西亞·馬爾克斯進入了哥倫比亞國立大學攻讀法律，他雖然只在大學學習了一年，但是這一年對他來說是難以忘懷的，因為正是這一年他的名字第一次和哥倫比亞文學發生了聯系：《觀察家報》文學版主編、小說家愛德華多·薩拉梅亞·博爾達(1907—1963)在報刊上發表了他的第一個短篇小說《第三次無奈》。

3. 用英文寫一篇短篇愛情小說

In the autumn of my last year at college，I got into the habit of studying at the Radcliffe library ．I didn't do it just to admire the girls，though I agree I liked that too．The place was quiet，nobody knew me，and there was less demand for the books I needed for my studies．The day before one of my midterm history exams，I still hadn't found time to read the first book on the reading list．（That，of course，is a very common disease at Harvard．） I walked over to the reservations desk to get one of the books which would save me from failing me exam the next day．There were two girls working there．One was a tall，sporty type．The other was the quiet kind，in glasses．I choseher-Middle Four Eyes．

『Do you have English Society in the Middle Ages？』

She looked at me．It was a sharp，unfriendly look．『Don't you have your own library at Harvard？』she asked．

『Listen，Harvard students are allowed to use the Radcliffe library．』

『I'm not talking about what you're allowed to do，Preppie．I'm talking about what's right and fair．You fellows have five million books．We only have a few thousand．』

My god，I thought．I wish I'd spoken to the sporty one！This girl's the type that thinks that，because there are five times as many men at Harvard as there are girls at Radcliffe，the girls gave to be five times as smart．Ican usually make those types feel pretty．But just then I badly needed that damn book．

『Listen，I need that damn book．』

『Would you please watch your language，Preppie．』

『What makes you so sure I went to prep school？』

『You look stupid and rich，』she said，removing her glasses．

『You're wrong，』I said．『I'm smart and poor．』

『Oh，no，Preppie，』she said．『I'm smart and poor．』

She was looking straight at me．Her eyes were brown．All right，maybe I look rich，but I wouldn't let a Radcliffe girl-even one with pretty eyes-call me stupid．

『What makes you so smart？』I asked．

『I wouldn't go for coffee with you，』she replied．

『Listen-I wouldn't ask you．』

『That，』she replied，『is what makes you stupid．』

Let me explain why I took her for coffee．By al－lowing her to think I wanted to，I got that book．And， because she couldn't leave the library until closing time，I had plenty of time to study it．I learned some useful facts about the church and the law in the eleventh century．As a result，I got an A in my history exam．That，bythe way，was the mark I gave to Jenny's legswhen she first walked out from behind that desk．I can't say I gave her high marks for her clothes，however．They were rather strange，to say the least．I specially hated that In-dian thing that she used for a handbag．Fortunately I didn't mention this，as I later discovered that she had made that herself．

We went to a coffee shop near by．I ordered coffee for both of us，and a chocolate ice-cream for her．

『I'm Jennifer Cavilleri，』she said．『I'm American，but my family came from Italy．』I had guessed that al－ready．『And I'm studying music，』she added．
sorry~太長了!!!

4. 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。

5. 關於「友誼」的短篇英文小說

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
友誼是不可缺少的人們的生活。沒有朋友的人沒有翅膀的天使,他的生活將會受到在長期的寬容的孤獨和抑鬱。友誼是我們的母親心理,誰來溫暖自己孩子什麼時候傷害的發生。我們有很多一起分享我們的朋友在生活中,困惑,興奮,苦等。唉,它卻是很偉大的維持一個真正的友誼。

要用許多特殊性質為了結交新朋友。理解能先來。只有當我們更好的了解對方就會給我們帶來一個真正的和有意義的友誼。我們可能會發現共同利益的業余愛好。這種感覺的親和力讓我們越來越近。

它也需要一種特別的愛似乎知道沒有終點的。不要猶豫,盡管顯示你並給你的朋友的關心和體貼。當他/她有麻煩了。愛不是自私。愛是賦予上帝,我們應該珍惜一生。

寬容是第三中最重要的組成部分的友誼。我們完全不同的人。這個人的區別可能會引起沖突,在各方面我們生命中的一個大境界了。不要讓自己在這所施加的時間太長了。試著寬容他/她的在一個發人深省的心情。聖徒並不完美,更不用說那些一個像我們這樣的普通人。後來,我們應該好好溝通。不害羞的承認。

理解、愛和寬容三個基本要素是第一個是一個真正的友誼。其他的品質也對此表示關注,如體貼、信任和耐心。記住,友誼是心靈的後衛,珍惜它

6. 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."

7. 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.

8. 求1000字以內英語短篇小說！

《蒙娜麗莎》風波

On Tuesday August 11th, 1911, a young artist, Louis Beraud, arrived at the Louvre（盧浮宮） in Paris to complete a painting of the Salon Carre（卡雷沙龍，盧浮宮的畫廊名）. This was the room where the world 's most famous painting, the Mona Lisa by Leonardo da Vinci（列奧那多·達·芬奇）, was on display. To his surprise there was an empty space where the painting should have been. At 11 o'clock the museum authorities realized that the painting had been stolen. The next day headlines all over the world announced the theft.

這一天是1911年8月11日，星期二，一位年輕的藝術家路易斯·貝勞德來到了巴黎盧浮宮的卡雷沙龍畫廊完成一幅油畫，在這條畫廊里陳列著世界上最著名的油畫——列奧納多·達·芬奇創作的《蒙娜麗莎》。令路易斯感到吃驚的是，本該掛著油畫的地方卻是空空盪盪的。中午11時博物館館方意識到這幅名畫已經被盜了。第二天全球各大報刊的頭條新聞都報道了《蒙娜麗莎》被盜的消息。

Actually the Leonardo had been gone for more than twenty-four hours before anyone noticed it was missing. The museum was always closed on Mondays for maintenance（維修）. Just before closing time on Sunday three men had entered the museum, where they had hidden themselves in a storeroom. The actual theft was quick and simple. Early the next morning Perrugia removed the painting from the wall while the others kept watch. Then they went out a back exit.

實際上，直到達·芬奇的這幅畫被盜24小時後才有人發現此事。每逢星期一盧浮宮都要閉館例行保養文物。就在星期天，有三個人進入了博物館並藏在貯藏室里。他們的盜竊行動迅速而簡單，第二天一大早，三個盜賊之一佩魯吉亞從牆上取下《蒙娜麗莎》，其餘兩個為他望風，然後他們從後門溜走逃得無影無蹤了。

Nothing was seen or heard of the painting for two years when Perrugia tried to sell it to a dealer for half a million lire（里拉）. Perrugia was arrested on December 13th. Perrugia claimed he had stolen it as an act of patriotism（愛國主義）, because, he said, the painting had been looted from the Italian nation by Napoleon（拿破崙）. Perrugia was imprisoned for seven months. It seemed that the crime of the century had been solved.

《蒙娜麗莎》在被盜後的兩年間一直杳無音迅，直到有一天佩魯吉亞想以50萬里拉賣給一個文物販子時，人們才重新見到它。佩魯吉亞於1913年12月13日被捕，他宣稱偷《蒙娜麗莎》之舉完全是出於愛國心。他說，盧浮宮的這幅畫是被拿破崙從義大利搶劫來的。佩魯吉亞為此被判了7個月的監禁，看來這個世紀奇案好像是解決了。

But had it? Perrugia was keen to claim all responsibility for the theft, and it was twenty years before the whole story came out. In fact Perrugia had been working for two master criminals, Valfierno and Chaudron, who went unpunished for their crime. They would offer to steal a famous painting from a gallery for a crooked（不誠實的） dealer or an unscrupulous（肆無忌憚的） private collector. They would then make a of the picture and, with the help of bribed gallery attendants（服務員）, would then tape the to the back of the original（原始的） painting. The dealer would then be taken to the gallery and would be invited to make a secret mark on the back of the painting. Of course the dealer would actually be marking the . Valfierno would later proce forged（偽造） newspaper cuttings announcing the theft of the original, and then proce the , complete with secret marking. If the dealer were to see the painting still in the gallery, he would be persuaded that it was a , and that he possessed the genuine（真正的） one.

果真如此嗎?佩魯吉亞試圖把這次盜竊案的全部責任都攬到自己身上。直到二十年後，整個事件的真相才大白於天下。事實上，佩魯吉亞一直在為兩個犯罪頭目瓦爾菲爾諾和肖德龍工作。在這個案件中，另兩個傢伙一直逍遙法外。瓦爾菲爾諾和肖德龍經常從陳列館偷竊名畫提供給奸詐的商人或肆無忌憚的私人收藏家。他們先製作名畫的贗品，然後向博物館的工作人員行賄，以便在博物館工作人員的協助下將偽造品粘在原作的背後，爾後他們再將文物販子帶到陳列室，並要他在要買的那幅畫的背面做上秘密的記號。當然，事實上文物販子只是在贗品的背面作記號。在此之後，瓦爾菲爾諾就偽造一些剪報宣稱原作被盜，然後拿出帶有秘密記號的贗品。如果買畫的販子看見畫仍然在展出，偷盜者將說服他相信展出的畫是贗品，而賣給他的才是真正的原作。

Chaudron then painted not one, but six copies of the Mona Lisa, using 400-year-old wood panels from antique Italian furniture. The forgeries（贗品） were carefully aged, so that the varnish（光澤） was cracked and dirty. Valfierno commissioned Perrugia to steal the original, and told him to hide it until Valfierno contacted him. Perrugia waited in vain in a tiny room in Paris with the painting, but heard nothing from his partners in crime. They had gone to New York, where the six copies were already in store. They had sent them there before the original was stolen. At that time it was quite common for artists to old masters, which would be sold quite honestly（合法的） as imitations（仿造品）, so there had been no problems with US Customs. Valfierno went on to sell all six copies for '300,OOO each. Valfierno told the story to a journalist in 1914, on condition that it would not be published until his death.

肖德龍不僅偽造了一幅，而是六幅《蒙娜麗莎》。他用400年前古義大利老傢具做油畫板，所有贗品均經過了細心的老化處理，以使油畫表面產生裂縫顯得不幹凈。瓦爾菲爾諾指派佩魯吉亞盜走《蒙娜麗莎》的真品並叫他躲藏起來直到與他取得聯系。佩魯吉亞一直帶者那幅畫首在巴黎的一間小屋裡，可是他卻一直未見同夥們的蹤跡。原來瓦爾菲爾諾和肖德龍早已跑到了紐約，那裡儲存著六幅《蒙娜麗莎》的贗品。他們在原作被盜前就已將贗品運到了美國。在那個時代，藝術家們復制已故大師的作品是司空見慣的事情，而且復製品還能夠合法地在市場上進行交易，因此復製品可以毫不費力地通過美國海關。在美國瓦爾菲爾諾以每幅300，000美元的價格陸續將這六幅《蒙娜麗莎》贗品出售。1914年瓦爾菲爾諾將事件真相透露給了一位記者，條件是只有等到他死後才能將此事公之於眾。

Does the story end there? Collectors have claimed that Perrugia returned a . It is also possible that Leonardo may have painted several versions of the Mona Lisa, or they might be copies made by Leonardo's pupils. There has been a lot of controversy and argument about a 450-year-old painting, but after all, maybe that's what she's smiling about.

事情就此了解了嗎?收藏專家們宣稱佩魯吉亞還回的《蒙娜麗莎》或許是贗品。或許當初達·芬奇創作了幾個不同版本的《蒙娜麗莎》；或許這些《蒙娜麗莎》皆為達·芬奇的學生們製作的復製品。因此迄今為止人們對於這幅有著450年左右歷史的名畫，仍有著諸多的爭議。也許，這就是蒙娜麗莎微笑的原因吧！