听美国故事练听力 51

（单词翻译）

　　John Lyman stood on the steps of the summer house, watching his wifeclimbing into the car and drive off along the lake road. She was goingto the village to get some boxes for his manuscripts¹ and books. Helooked unhappy, he had done little work on his book and the summer wasnow gone. “A wasted summer,” he had said to his wife.
“Not wasted, John,” she had said gently. “It’s been good for allof us.”
“But not good for my work,” he’d answered bitterly².
He put his pipe down, smiled weakly as his old dog Bingo came up tosniff it. The dog did this to be near him and he patted³ it on thehead. Then he remembered his unfinished book and he asked his childhopefully “Isn’t there something else you would like to do insteadof going sailing⁴ on our last day here?” The child stopped wigglingher toes in the hot dust and turned up her face and said with anunhappy look.
“Do we have to go home tomorrow, daddy?”
“Yes,” he answered, “school begins Monday you know?”
She moaned⁵. She looked small in her swimsuit and frail⁶. Bingo pushedagainst his hand and he thought about a number of things that he hadhad the dog longer than his child who was almost nine. And heremembered that Bingo had been his dog even before he met his wifeDoris. She had been 18 then and was now 29. For 11 years, she hadtried to be as old as himself and he had tried to be as young as she.
Now any anger you wondered if their love was worth the years of tryingand so often failing.
The child said, “Daddy, I can't think of anything else I would ratherdo than go sailing.”
This made him more angry. He was a poor sailor and had already upsetthe boat once. His wife was probably right, he thought. She said hewas always thinking so much about his book on early grey card that helet the wind and the boat get the better of him.
And so, after he agreed to take out the boat it happened again today.
He was so troubled with the lost of his time but he let a gust⁷ of windturned his light boat over. He went under and was terrified⁸. Notbecause of his own safety but that of the child. Usually she swam wellbut it was different today. In a panic⁹, he broke through the surfaceof the water and looked wildly about for her. He saw the boat first.
It had swum to the right, its red painted side glistening¹⁰ in the sun.
Then to his left, he saw her bright hair. In her terror¹¹ she wasfighting the water, gasping¹² and screaming. He called out to calm herand swam to her. She came up sobbing¹³. He put an arm around her andheld her close. She clung¹⁴ to him like a thin, frightened animal. Hecould feel her terror who was like something alive and in singing.
Suddenly he wanted to shout for help though he knew there was no oneto hear, and he wanted to fight against the water with all hisstrength. But he forced himself to keep calm.
“Don’t cry,” * said gently, “we’re all right.” He stayed in thesame spot, moving his legs up and down in the water to keep afloat. Heheld her close talking quietly, at last she heard him. When her armsloosened, he laughed and said, “We’ll never hear the last of thisfrom mother.” She laughed too and asked, “Where’s the boat?” Hefinally saw it far to the right. “It’s running away from us.” hesaid.
Alone he might have caught up with it and let it carry them to safety.
Lifting his head he saw how far they were from shore. Almost half amile! Again he became tense, frightened, but he said, “Thank you forhanging on while I swam.” She laughed again and put her arms aroundhis neck. She seemed liked it first and he told himself he could makeit. Swam one hundred strokes¹⁵, he kept saying to himself, then floatand rest awhile.
After the third rest period she seemed to have grown surprisinglyheavy. He was too old for something like this, he thought. Now he hadlost count of the rest periods. He felt physically¹⁶ spent unable tomake it to shore. He’d always cared more for books than sports andnow he wondered if he had not spent too many hours of his life byhimself, studying, writing, teaching¹⁷, too many hours of wantingnothing more than his pipe, his dog and his books. He remembered howDoris had come into one of his classes, a girl of 18, the oldest of alarge family. A fresh lovely girl with laughter¹⁸ in her eyes.
One day he found her on a college grounds, gently touching¹⁹ Bingo andsaid he was a beautiful dog. Really Bingo was a big ugly brute²⁰. Dorissaid that Bingo had character. He laughed and told her what a lazy, nogood Bingo was. And then she laughed too. Listening he knew that shewas what he wanted. Then came a wedding day, she said she would givehim a houseful of noisy sons, they would make him forget his books andfilling with laughter. The first was to be named John Junior. But shesucceeded in giving him only a tiny daughter who arrived too early andwas given only a small chance to live. But she lived and they namedher Joanna and called her Jonnie. Now he was swimming to shore withher, while a great weakness filled every inch of his body. He feltthere was little hope, he was tiring fast. He wondered what it wouldbe like to die at nine and at forty. He wondered what would become ofold Bingo, and the pipe he had left on the front steps of this house.
He wondered how long it would be before Doris would laugh again, andhe knew how foolish it was to be angry because of book had not beenwritten.
“Daddy,” Jonnie asked, “is our boat lost for good?”
“Oh no, it, it wash ashore²¹.”
“And will we sail it next summer?”
“Of course, and probably upset it again.”
She laughed and he swam on. The next time he painfully lifted hishead, he saw they were quite close to land. For as far as he wasconcerned, it didn’t matter. He had reached the point where he couldno longer move, not an inch.
“Now,” he said smiling, “I’ll wish you to the house, I’ll come tohim and then give you that much of start, no looking back.”
Excitedly she swam on on her own. He closed his eyes. His feet andlegs were like lead pulling him down. Slowly the water covered hischin, his mouth and then surprisingly, his feet touched bottom. Atlast he pushed forward on his stomach along the dry hot sand.
“I won!” Jonnie cried as she ran back toward²² where her father lay,“I’ve been to the house already.” He sat up slowly to look at her,funny looking means²³, thin arms and legs. He had been like that when hewas a boy of nine. Blonde hair, blue eyes, that part of her was Doris’ gift. Then he knew that if he had drowned, it would not havemattered much. But if Jonnie had drowned, he and Doris would have beenlost and the whole future would have been changed. Suddenly he knewwhy he himself had been born into this world. Not to write a book, butto father and protect this one child.
“That comes mother!” Jonnie cried and went racing²⁴ away.
Somehow he was able to get to his feet and followed.
“Daddy and I upset the boat.” He heard Jonnie say laughingly, “thenwe swam a race to shore and I won!”
Doris' shocked eyes met his immediately without being told, she seemedto know what had almost happen to him and Jonnie. She sat down as ifher knees had suddenly turned to rubber. He dropped down behind herand took her hand in his.
“You were right,” he said gently, “It has been a good summer.” Andwhen she stopped shaking, he kissed her.
You have been listening to the story "Upset". It was written by Frank²⁵?. Copyright²⁶ by Family Circle incorporated²⁷. All rights reserved²⁸. Yourstoryteller was Walter Guthrie. Listen again next week at this sametime for another American story told in Special English on the Voiceof America. This is Shirley Griffith