书读百遍，其义自见，如下是勤劳的小编为大家整编的英文原版儿童故事书里的故事【优秀7篇】，欢迎借鉴。
小个子猫走到街上，看见大个子老鼠正要过马路。这时绿灯刚灭，红灯刚亮。大个子老鼠赶紧过马路。
小个子猫想要提醒他：亮红灯不能过马路，要等亮绿灯……但已经来不及了！一辆小汽车开过来，撞到大个子老鼠身上，把他撞了个跟头。小个子猫急忙跑过去，要把大个子老鼠拉起来，可是拉不动。还是大个子老鼠自己爬起来了。
“撞疼了没有？”小个子猫问大个子老鼠。大个子老鼠摸摸身上，说：“我这样棒的身体，它那样小的汽车，撞不疼我的。”小个子猫说：“要是大一些的车子，肯定会撞疼你。红灯亮了不能过马路，你忘了吗？”
“我当然知道。”大个子老鼠说，“可现在亮的是绿灯呀。”“现在是红灯！”“是绿灯！”
小个子猫拉来黑豹警察，这才使大个子老鼠认了输。小个子猫说：“肯定是你的眼睛出了毛病。”
大个子老鼠想了想：“哦，昨天我的表哥来，给我一颗糖，说：‘它跟别的糖不一样，你吃了就会知道。’……”
为了大个子老鼠不再把红灯看成绿灯，不再被汽车撞倒，小个子猫送大个子老鼠去医院。青蛙医生给大个子老鼠看病，他问：“哪里不舒服？”大个子老鼠说：“咦，一个红青蛙！”青蛙医生说：“我知道是什么病了。”
青蛙医生给了一支眼药膏。小个子猫把眼药膏挤到大个子老鼠的眼睛里去。大个子老鼠觉得有点难受。但青蛙医生说，这药膏很灵，治好大个子老鼠的眼病只要一个钟头。大个子老鼠和小个子猫出了医院。医院门口栽着许多花。大个子老鼠指着花说：“绿的花，红的叶子。”西瓜摊旁，灰驴在吃西瓜。小个子猫就问大个子老鼠：“你看西瓜，是不是红的瓤？”
大个子老鼠直点头：“是的，红的皮，绿的瓤。”“真好玩。”小个子猫又看看天，“那，太阳也是绿的了？”
“对呀，一个绿太阳！”“啊，那你的绿太阳一定不像我的红太阳这样热……”
“是呀，它是凉凉的，滑滑的，我真想摸它一把。”于是小个子猫很羡慕大个子老鼠了。
“其实，”小个子猫说，“有你这样的眼睛也不错，看到的东西和别人不一样。”大个子老鼠说：“你不怕我撞到汽车了？”
“这也好办，你只要跟别人反一反，看到红灯走，看到绿灯停，就行了。”小个子猫赶紧又拉着大个子老鼠朝医院跑。
大个子老鼠莫明其妙：“干什么？干什么？”小个子猫去问青蛙医生：“有没有这样的办法，可以让挤进眼里的眼药膏就像没挤进一样？”医生有点糊涂了：“就是说，病人舍不得自己的病，不愿意治好它？”
“是的。”小个子猫替大个子老鼠回答。“哦，来不及了，已经用了药，就不可能治不好了。”“真的吗？”小个子猫替大个子老鼠可惜。他们又走出医院。小个子猫问大个子老鼠：“你表哥给你的糖还有吗？我想要一颗。”
大个子老鼠说：“就这一颗。我要是知道你想要，就不吃它了。”小个子猫没有办法了。但她很会想办法。
她闭上眼睛看太阳……脑子里想着：“我要绿的，我要绿的……”不一会儿，她果然看到一个绿太阳。
Homebuyers nationwide are watching housing prices go up, up, and up. “How high can they go?” is the question on everyone’s lips. “As long as interest rates stay around 5 percent, there’s no telling,” remarked one realtor in Santa Monica, California.
“It’s crazy,” said Tim, who is looking for a house near the beach. “In 1993, I bought my first place, a two-bedroom condominium in Venice, for $70,000. My friends thought then that I was overpaying. Five years later, I had to move. I sold it for $230,000, which was a nice profit. Last year, while visiting friends here, I saw in the local paper that the exact same condo was for sale for $510,000!”
It is a seller’s market. Homebuyers feel like they have to offer at least 10 percent more than the asking price. Donna, a new owner of a one-bedroom condo in Venice Beach, said, “That’s what I did. I told the owner that whatever anyone offers you, I’ll give you $20,000 more, under the table, so you don’t have to pay your realtor any of it. I was tired of looking.”
Tim says he hopes he doesn’t get that desperate. “Whether you decide to buy or decide not to buy, you still feel like you made the wrong decision. If you buy, you feel like you overpaid. If you don’t buy, you want to kick yourself for passing up a great opportunity.”
Everyone says the bubble has to burst sometime, but everyone hopes it will burst the day after they sell their house. Even government officials have no idea what the future will bring. “All we can say is that, inevitably, these things go in cycles,” said the state director of housing. “What goes up must come down. But, as we all know, housing prices always stay up a little higher than they go down. So you can’t lose over the long run. Twenty years down the road, your house is always worth more than you paid for it.”
The Federal Department of Housing and Urban Development has awarded $5 million to three different local nonprofit organizations. The money will be distributed over a four-year period and is aimed at helping approximately 1,000 homeless people in the county of Arvada.
One agency, with headquarters in Woodbridge, is slated to receive $1.5 million. The agency director says that they will focus their resources on educating the homeless. “We will probably build another school-home with this money,” he said. “A school-home is exactly what it sounds like. It is a school and a home. We have already built four school-homes throughout the county. We get the homeless off the street, and we educate them so they don't have to return to the street. We teach them how to be auto mechanics, plumbers, landscapers, painters, carpenters, bricklayers, electricians, and air-conditioning repairmen.
“You wouldn't believe the success that we have had. In fact, a couple of weeks ago, our office air-conditioning went out. My secretary called a repairman. The repairman was one of our first homeless students. He now owns his own air-conditioning business, plus two houses, two cars and a boat! He has a dozen employees. Holy cow! He's doing better than I am. He fi《·》xed our air-conditioning for free. I think I might sign up for the air-conditioning class myself.”
Daniel needed a new carburetor for his car. Well, not a new one. A new one would cost at least $250. Even a rebuilt one would cost about $110. The cheapest thing to do was to go to a salvage yard.
California has about 50 salvage yards. Most of them are in southern California. The yards range in size from 10 acres to 70 acres, holding anywhere from 300 to 3,000 abandoned, wrecked, or cheaply sold cars. The yards are usually located outside of downtown but near a freeway ramp.
A salvage yard might pay you up to $200 to take your rundown car off your hands. Before they place it in the yard, however, they will remove all its liquids—oil, gas, coolant, brake fluid, transmission fluid, power steering fluid, and windshield washer solvent. Vehicles usually sit in the yard for only a month before they are crushed, stacked, and then transported to a recycler.
Vehicle parts are inexpensive, but you have to remove them yourself. The carburetor that Daniel needed was only $20. Nothing in the yard, however, comes with a guarantee. If it doesn’t work or fit, you can replace it with a similar item, but you won’t get your money back.
Daniel borrowed his brother’s car. After paying the $3 entry fee to the man in the little wooden shack, Daniel walked into the yard. He walked about five minutes before he found the foreign car section. It looked like there were at least 200 cars. It was sunny and hot. There was no shade anywhere in the yard. Carrying his toolbox, Daniel went searching for a matching carburetor.
Almost three hours later, Daniel was back at the shack. He bought himself a cold soda from a machine. A few minutes later, he paid the $20 plus tax and walked out of the yard. Driving home, he wondered if all the work was worth the savings. If the carburetor didn’t work, he’d have to do this all over again.
When he got home, his brother Monty was standing next to Daniel’s car. Monty had a big smile on his face. “Hey, guess what? It wasn’t your carburetor. It was the fuel filter. I changed it, and your car runs great now.”
A fifteen-year-old boy was injured in a car accident when the minivan he was traveling in was hit by a pickup truck at an intersection. The boy was taken to a nearby hospital. The paramedics said that it appeared that the boy had nothing more serious than a broken left leg, but that internal injuries were always a possibility. The boy was conscious and alert. His mother, who was driving, was uninjured. She said that the truck appeared out of nowhere, and she thought she was going to die. She turned the steering wheel sharply to the left, and the truck hit her minivan on the passenger side.
The driver of the truck was a 50-year-old man who was unemployed and apparently had been drinking—police found 18 empty beer cans inside the truck. The man denied drinking, but he failed the police test for sobriety. When asked to touch his nose with his arms outstretched and eyes closed, he was unable to touch any part of his head.
The handcuffed man asked the police if they knew where “Mabel” was as he was put into the back seat of the police vehicle. The police asked him if Mabel was his wife. He said, “She’s my dog, my dog! Where’s my baby?” A dog with a collar, but no identification, was found minutes later, half a block away. The man was taken to the city jail and booked on suspicion of driving while intoxicated and on causing an accident.
Crime in the city of Clio hit a 30-year low last year. “This is absolutely wonderful for our citizens, our businesses, and our visitors,” said Police Chief Louis Gates. Clio has a population of 28,000, but it has at least 30 gangs. The gangs make most of their money from dealing drugs and offering “protection.” They also commit violent crimes, such as murder, battery, and rape.
There were 1,486 thefts last year. Most of the thefts involved cars. Thieves also robbed the people at gunpoint or pickpocketed them. They broke into houses and businesses at the alarming rate of two a day two years ago, but that rate was down to only one a day last year. “That's a 50-percent decrease in one year,” beamed Gates. “I think the officers deserve a big pat on the back. Even better, maybe they’ll get that 10-percent raise that they are all hoping for next fiscal year.”
Citing an example of how the police force has helped reduce crime, Gates talked about bicycle thefts. "For years and years, kids were locking up their bikes at bike stands in front of schools, libraries, and malls. About 10 percent of the time, the kids would come out of the school or wherever and discover that their bike was no longer there. Someone had cut the lock and stolen their bike. We wracked our brains trying to find a solution to this problem. Finally, at the beginning of last year, we hit upon it. We simply removed most of the bike stands. Then the bicycle theft rate came down quickly.”
Most cities in the state have similar problems. They all involve too many people, too much crime, too few police, and too little funding. These problems are part and parcel of civilization everywhere. They might diminish, but they will probably never disappear. All people can do is hope for the best and prepare for the worst.
On Friday afternoon a judge sentenced lawyer Mickey Mantle to 24 hours in jail for contempt. Mantle had just won a lawsuit against a man who had struck Mantle’s client. The client had accidentally spilled a diet soda onto the defendant’s new sneakers, so he broke the client’s jaw. The judge sentenced the defendant to two years in jail for assault and battery. But after handcuffing the defendant, the sheriff’s deputy also handcuffed Mantle. “What the heck do you think you’re doing?” Mantle shouted.
“Sorry. Judge’s orders,” replied the deputy, as he escorted Mantle and the defendant out of the courtroom. “She said to throw you in jail overnight for contempt of court.” Because the judge had already left the courtroom, Mantle had no one to protest to.
Mantle and the convicted man were put in the back of the same van and driven five miles to the city jail. When they were taken out of the van, Mantle had a black eye and a bloody nose. He told the deputy that the defendant had head-butted him. The defendant called Mantle a liar. He told the deputy that Mantle had gone flying when the van made a sharp turn and banged his face on the defendant’s knee.
The deputy took Mantle to the jail emergency room. Mantle couldn’t believe what was going on. He was a respected lawyer about to spend the night in jail with violent criminals, some of whom he’d helped to convict. He’d be lucky to get out alive. And all because of a stupid cup of coffee.
Mantle was in jail because he had displeased Judge Brown. Brown had asked Mantle to bring her a caffe latte from Moonbucks on Mantle’s way back from lunch. Mantle had had previous run-ins with Brown. He didn’t like Brown, and refused to be her errand boy. When Mantle returned from lunch, she asked him where her coffee was. Mantle said, “They ran out. They said to come back tomorrow.”