北京联合大学大学英语课程一课一练试卷集第三册第六课

北京联合大学大学英语课程一课一练试卷集第三册

第六课

北京联合大学大学英语课程一课一练试卷（第三册Unit Six） Part I

注意：此部分试题在答题卡1上。

Directions: For this part, you are allowed 30 minutes to write a composition on Should Smoking

be Banned. You should write at least 120 words following the outline given below:

1. 有些人认为不该禁烟 2. 有些人坚持要禁烟 3. 我的看法 Writing (30 minutes)

Part II Reading Comprehension (Skimming and Scanning) (15 minutes)

Directions: In this part, you will have 15 minutes to go over the passage quickly and answer the

questions on Answer Sheet 1. For questions 1-7, choose the best answer from the four choices marked A),B),C) and D). For questions 8-10, complete the sentences with the information given in the passage. My Daughter Smokes

My daughter smokes. While she is doing her homework, her feet on the bench in front of her and her calculator clicking out answers to her math problems, I am looking at the half-empty package of Camels lying carelessly close at hand. I pick them up, take them into the kitchen, where the light is better, and study them -- they are filtered, for which I am grateful. My heart feels terrible. I want to weep. In fact, I do weep a little, standing there by the stove holding one of the

instruments, so white, so precisely rolled, that could cause my daughter's death. When she smoked Marlboros and Players I hardened myself against feeling so bad; nobody I knew ever smoked these brands. She doesn't know this, but it was Camels that my father―her grandfather―smoked. But before he smoked “ready-mades”-- when he was very young and very poor with eyes like lanterns-- he smoked Prince Albert tobacco in cigarettes he rolled himself. I remember the bright-red tobacco tin, with a picture of Queen Victoria's partner, Prince Albert, dressed in a black dress coat and carrying a walking stick.

The tobacco was dark brown, pungent (刺鼻的), slightly bitter. I tasted it more than once as a child, and the old tins could be used for a number of things: to keep buttons and shoelaces in, to store seeds, and best of all, to hold worms for the rare times my father took us fishing.

By the late forties and early fifties no one rolled his own anymore (and few women smoked) in my hometown in rural Georgia. The tobacco industry, coupled with Hollywood movies in which both heroes and heroines smoked like chimneys, completely won over people like my father, who were hopelessly addicted to cigarettes. He never looked as high-class as Prince Albert, though; he continued to look like a poor, overweight, overworked colored man with too large a family―black,

with a very white cigarette stuck in his mouth.

I began smoking in eleventh grade, also the year I drank numerous bottles of terrible sweet, very cheap wine. My friends and I, all boys for this venture, bought our supplies from a man who ran a segregated (隔离的) bar and liquor store on the outskirts of town. Over the entrance there was a large sign that said *****. We were not

permitted to drink there, only to buy. I smoked Kools, because my sister did. By then I thought her smoke-darkened lips and teeth looked glamorous. However, my body simply would not tolerate smoke. After six months I had a constant sore throat. I gave up smoking, gladly. My father died from \\troubles had left him low. I doubt he had much lung left at all, after coughing for so many years. He had so little breath that, during his last years, he was always leaning on something. I remembered once, at a family reunion, when my daughter was two, that my father picked her up for a minute -- long enough for me to photograph them -- but the effort was obvious. Near the very end of his life, and largely because he had no more lungs, he quit smoking. He gained a couple of pounds, but by then he was so slim that no one noticed.

When I travel to Third World countries I see many people like my father and daughter. There are lots of large advertisement signs directed at them both: the tough, “take-charge” older man, the glamorous, “worldly” young woman, both puffing off. In these less developed countries, as in American ghettoes (贫民区) and on reservations, money that should be spent for food goes instead to the tobacco companies; over time, people starve themselves of both food and air, effectively weakening and addicting their children, eventually wiping themselves out. I read in the newspaper that cigarettes butts (烟蒂) are so toxic that if a baby swallows one, it is likely to die. My daughter would like to quit, she says. We both know the statistics are against her; most people who try to quit smoking do not succeed.

There is a deep hurt that I feel as a mother. Some days it is a feeling of uselessness. I remember how carefully I ate when I was pregnant, how patiently I taught my daughter how to cross a street