听美国故事练听力 52

　　The snow kept coming down, quietly, ghostlike, covering the landdeeper and deeper. It seemed as if it would go on forever 1. It was thefirst snowfall of the year. Billy looked through the kitchen window.

He felt like diving 2 into the snow and burying 3 himself in its softness.

"Billy," his mother shouted, she was standing 4 at his side but had toraise her voice because he was not listening.

"Do you have to call me Billy?""I meant Bill," his mother answered quickly, "I forgot how closeyou're to being 5 a man. Go help pa with the fence 6."Billy started out toward 7 the fence. That was the story of his life,fixing this, fixing that. He walked slowly. The falling snow had astrange power, a power that did not seem real. It was like magic 8.

Billy wanted to keep going, wishing there was no fence to reach or tofix. And then suddenly, out across the fields he went, he did not knowwhat he was doing, he liked to help his father, but he kept thinkingthat at home he would never be more than a boy with small jobs to do.

He crossed the frozen 10 creek 11 and then walked up into the hills when hecame down into the flat lands. He began to run, racing 12 against thewhole world.

Then he saw his friend Joey standing near his father's barn 13 with apail in his hand.

"What's gotten into you?" Joey asked.

"I just feel good. That's all.""You look kind of funny," Joey said. Billy wiped his hot face withsnow. "I don't think I ever feel so good."Joey said he was going to the town hall for music and dancing. Billywent with him. The town hall was on a hill, between two long valleys 15.

As they drove 16 up, they heard music coming out of the hall. Inside thehall, the air was sweet and warm. Some of the girls smiled at Billy ina funny way. He could not tell if the smiles were friendly or not. Heturned back to the door and decided 17 to stand there for a moment andthen go, there was too much noise inside.

"You're standing right in the cold." Someone said to him. It was oneof the Joey's cousins Sheila. Sheila something or other, she lived inthe next town. Billy didn't even know her last name.

"Oh," he said, his face getting red. He moved a little.

"You're still in it." She said. Bill looked at her. She was sort 18 ofpretty with long black hair and blue-green eyes. But Billy wished shewould go away.

"It's only fresh air," he said, "go pick on somebody else.""I'm not picking on you. I'm trying to help you. That's what.""Too many things they're helping 19 when there're none." Billy said.

She studied him. "Well," she said, "that's true." Then, she smiled.

"You don't like it in here, do you?""I feel better outside," he answered. Without thinking 9 Billy said,"Look! Would you like to go out just for a few minutes?"She turned her head away then said, "I'll get my coat."Outside, they stood in the snow looking at the lighted windows of thehall. She walked quietly beside him, a stranger 20 in white coat, shoesand gloves. He could still hear the music from the hall, but it waspart of the snowfall. It seemed to be made not for dancers but forwalkers. It seemed strange and wonderful that there should be someoneso near him.

Suddenly he asked, "Did you say something?""No," she said, "did you?"He shook his head.

"What do you think about when you walk like this?" she said.

"Oh, different things. What I like to do and never can, it'sdaydreaming I guess.""Yes," she said, "I do that, too."The snow seemed to be falling faster now and the music from the hallwas gone. From far below came the sound of bells followed by a fewcoughs from an old car. Then there was just silence 22 as if the snow hadcut off all the sounds of the world. Billy looked at her white coatand hat beside him. They belong to that world of wonder, that world ofmagic that was born with the first snowfall. He touched her hat.

"What're you doing?""I don't know," he said, "I just…", he stopped.

There was nothing real but the snow. Even the whiteness of her coatand hat seemed to come from the snow. He turned around; all signs ofthe world were gone.

"We are the only two in the world left," he said.

"Is that why you touched my hat?"He said nothing. But then in a rush of words, bravely he said, "MaybeI wanted to kiss you."She laughed. "I wouldn't let you," she said, "I don't like kissing.""I don't either," he said.

"Oh, well, that's a good thing, because she wouldn't really be ableto.""Why not?""I'm too strong for you," she said.

"So that's what you think. You're wrong. If I really wanted to, Iguess I could do alright.""Dreamer 23!" She gave him a push and ran back toward the hall, before heknew it he was after her, he had caught her. Laughing she pushed himand down they went into the snow. He expected her to let him kiss hernow. That's what often happened in the stories he read. Why would shelaugh if her struggle 24 against him were real? But she did not let him.

She fought him as if she wanted to hurt him, wanted to make him feelsmall.

"You're a child," she said, pulling away from him.

I should let her go, he thought. But he held on to her until he feltthat he could hold on forever. He wanted to hold on forever. It wasreally a simple thing to hug a girl he thought. Her hat had beenpushed off and the snow shining on her dark hair, he now felt astrange gentleness for her. As she looked angrily at him, her face redand full of fight, he told himself that it was not the right moment tokiss her. However, he tried to kiss her anyway, more in pride thananything else but he missed her mouth. He still held on as the snowlight and cool as a fresh white sheet 25 began to cover them. She wasgetting tired. She was looking at him differently now with less anger 21.

And he tried to kiss her again. This time he did not miss her mouthand met hers fully 26. Had she moved to meet him? He did not know. In hisdaydreams, success had always lifted him up. People cheered him. Butbeing able to kiss her was a different kind of success. He did notfeel lifted up, there were no cheers 27 and there was no fire in hisblood as some of his dreams made him believe there would be, insteadhe felt something else. He looked at the small hat in the snow, andthat the small wet face of one who was not strong enough. He feltsorry for her. This feeling was new to him. He wondered how such afeeling could be part of another feeling that seemed so good. Verygently, Billy kissed her a third time. Then he let her go and theystood up. He picked up her hat and put it on her head. They began towalk back toward the hall.

The music came to them again as light as the snow that had covereddown. As they walked, her hand touched his. She didn't mean to do it.

Her touch was just another part of what now seemed to be a world oflight and gentle things.

"Do you want to go back in the hall?" she asked, her voice was low.

She no longer looked so strong.

"I guess not," he answered, "are you going in?""I'd better," she answered, "I came with friends. I'll see you again,won't I? "Her question surprised him, he had not thought about seeing her again,he was still lost in a dream thinking of the day's happenings, feelingthe wonder and excitement 28 of newborn things, like the first snowfall,the first spring flowers, the first feelings of growing up becoming aman.

Billy heard her asked again, "I'll see you again, won't I?"He shook his head.

"You mean I won't?" she asked.

"I mean you will." he answered.

She smiled and went inside.

He began walking along the road toward the valley 14. The snowfall seemedto be stopping but he believed that it would last until he got home.

You have just heard the American story "Light and Gentle Things". Itwas written by William S for the New England magazine called Yankee.

Our narrator 29 was Shep O'Neal. For VOA Special English, this is SusanClark.