I was at a dinner in London given in honor of one of the most celebrated English military (军事的)men of his time. I do not want to tell you his real name and titles. I will just call him Lieutenant General Lord Arthur Scoresby.

    I cannot describe my excitement when I saw this great and famous man. There he sat, the man himself, in person, all covered with medals. I could not take my eyes off him. He seemed to show the true mark of greatness. His fame had no effect on him. The hundreds of eyes watching him, the admiration of so many people, did not seem to make any difference to him.

    Next to me sat a clergyman(牧师), who was an old friend of mine. He was not always a clergyman. During the first half of his life he was a teacher in the military school at Woolwich. There was a strange look in his eye as he turned to me and said in a low voice-"privately-he is a complete fool." He meant, of course, the hero of our dinner.

    This came as a shock to me. I looked hard at my friend. I could not have been more surprised if he had said the same thing about Napoleon, or Socrates, or Solomon. But I was sure of two things about the clergyman. He always spoke the truth. And, his judgment of men was good. Therefore, I wanted to find out more about our hero as soon as I could.

    Some days later I got a chance to talk with the clergyman, and he told me more.

    Forty-three years seems like a long time to remember the name of a mere acquaintance. I have forgotten the name of an old lady who was a customer on my paper route. Yet it seems like just yesterday that she taught me a lesson in forgiveness.

    On a Saturday afternoon, a friend and I were throwing rocks onto the roof of the old lady's house. The object of our play was to observe how the rocks changed to missiles （导弹）as they rolled to the roof's edge and shot out into the yard like comets （彗星）falling from the sky. I found myself a perfectly smooth rock and sent it for a ride. However, it slipped from my hand as I let it go and headed straight for a small window. At the sound of crashed glass, we knew we were in trouble and ran away.

    A few days later, when I was sure that I hadn't been discovered, I started to feel guilty for her misfortune. She still greeted me with a smile each day when I gave her the paper, but I was no longer able to act comfortably in her presence. I made up my mind to save my paper delivery money, and in three weeks I had the seven dollars that I calculated would cover the cost of her window. I put the money in an envelope with a note, and put the envelope through the letter slot in her door.

    The next day, I handed the old lady her paper and was able to return the warm smile that I was receiving from her. She thanked me for the paper and said, “Here, I have something for you.” It was a bag of cookies. I thanked her and began to eat the cookies as I continued my route.

    After several cookies, I felt an envelope and pulled it out of the bag. When I opened the envelope, I was surprised. Inside were the seven dollars and a short note that said, “I'm proud of you.”

    I remember meeting him one evening with his pushcart. I had managed to sell all my papers and was coming home in the snow. It was that strange hour in downtown New York when the workers were pouring homeward in the twilight. I marched among thousands of tired men and women whom the factory whistles had unyoked. They flowed in rivers through the clothing factory districts, then down along the avenues to the East Side.

    I met my father near Cooper Union. I recognized him, a hunched, frozen figure in an old overcoat standing by a banana cart. He looked so lonely, the tears came to my eyes. Then he saw me, and his face lit with his sad, beautiful smile-Charlie Chaplin's smile.

    "Arch, it's Mikey," he said. "So you have sold your papers! Come and eat a banana."

    He offered me one. I refused it. I felt it crucial that my father sell his bananas, not give them away. He thought I was shy, and coaxed and joked with me, and made me eat the banana. It smelled of wet straw and snow.

    "You haven't sold many bananas today, pop, "I said anxiously.

    He shrugged his shoulders.

    "What can I do No one seems to want them."

    It was true. The work crowds pushed home morosely（愁眉苦脸的）over the pavements. The rusty sky darkened over New York buildings, the tall street lamps were lit, innumerable trucks, street cars and elevated trains clattered by. Nobody and nothing in the great city stopped for my father's bananas.

    "I ought to yell," said my father dolefully. "I ought to make a big noise like other peddlers, but it makes my throat sore. Anyway, I'm ashamed of yelling, it makes me feel like a fool. "

    I had eaten one of his bananas. My sick conscience told me that I ought to pay for it somehow. I must remain here and help my father.

    "I'll yell for you, pop," I volunteered.

    "Arch, no," he said," go home; you have worked enough today. Just tell momma I'll be late. "

    But I yelled and yelled. My father, standing by, spoke occasional words of praise, and said I was a wonderful yeller. Nobody else paid attention. The workers drifted past us wearily, endlessly; a defeated army wrapped in dreams of home. Elevated trains crashed; the Cooper Union clock burned above us; the sky grew black, the wind poured, the slush burned through our shoes. There were thousands of strange, silent figures pouring over the sidewalks in snow. None of them stopped to buy bananas. I yelled and yelled, nobody listened.

    My father tried to stop me at last." Nu," he said smiling to console me," that was wonderful yelling, Mikey. But it's plain we are unlucky today! Let's go home."

    I was frantic, and almost in tears. I insisted on keeping up my desperate yells. But at last my father persuaded me to leave with him.

    The boy sat on his chair, with his hand above the keyboard. He thought about what to write.

    He recalled that the competition deadline was merely a week away. But he still had not even started on his piece. He looked at the brochure again." WRITING COMPETITION!" the title read. His mom had encouraged him to enter the writing competition, and now he was taking it on as his personal task for the holidays.

    As the boy reflected on his previous writing efforts, he realized how hopeless his task of winning was. Every story he ever wrote was based on other stories. He had little imagination, and unfortunately, imagination was the key to writing.

    Suddenly, he had a brainwave. This time, he came up with an original and imaginative story.

    The words shot towards him like a storm of leaves. Words were coming easily, flowing through him, faster than he could type. He typed faster than he ever had before. He continued to type, amazed at how easy writing this story was. The boy could not stop writing. He looked at the word count and saw the number" 248" staring right back at him. He was not even halfway yet.

    Then he heard the call of his mother saying time for bed. He continued writing the piece, ignoring her. He had to make up for the time he had lost thinking about a topic to write.

    Finally, he finished. The word count now read"498".

    "Perfect," he thought," just under the word limit." He knew this was the story that would win.

    He went onto Google and searched for the competition. He found the page but there was no "Enter" button.

    BELJLNG—Eating at a Beijing restaurant is usually an adventure for foreigners, and particularly when they get the chance to order "chicken without sex life" or "red burned lion head".

    Sometimes excited but mostly confused, embarrassed or even terrified, many foreigners have long complained about mistranslations of Chinese dishes. And their complaints are often valid, but such an experience at Beijing's restaurants will apparently soon be history.

    Foreign visitors will no longer, hopefully, be confused by oddly worded restaurant menus in the capital if the government's plan to correctly translate 3, 000 Chinese dishes is a success and the translations are generally adopted.

    The municipal (市政) office of foreign affairs has published a book to recommend English translations of Chinese dishes, which aims to help restaurants avoid bizarre translations. "It provides the names of main dishes of famous Chinese cuisines in plain English," an official with the city's Foreign Affairs office said, "Restaurants are encouraged to use the proposed translations, but it will not be compulsory." It's the city's latest effort to bridge the culture gap for foreign travelers in China.

    "The book is a blessing to tourist guides like me. Having it, I don't have to rack my brains trying to explain Chinese dishes to foreign travelers," said Zheng Xiaodong, a 31-year-old employee with a Beijing-based travel agency.

    "I will buy the book as I major in English literature and I'd like to introduce Chinese cuisine culture to more foreign friends," said Han Yang, a postgraduate student at the University of International Business and Economics.

    It is not clear if the book will be introduced to other parts of China. But on Tuesday, this was the most discussed topic on weibo.com, China's most popular micro-blogging site.

    Sometimes the best gift is the one you can use at home. These items will likely be appreciated all year for time spent relaxing, entertaining or getting things done.

    Jawbone Jambox Wireless Speaker

    $199 retail (far cheaper online). The bigger version goes for $299.

    The cool-looking rechargeable wireless speaker is getting good reviews for its big, balanced sound and compact design. It lets you stream music from smartphones, laptops and other Bluetooth devices(设备).

    Chalkboard Wall Planter

    $129. 95 retail at Williams-Sonoma

    No need to make room indoors for more flower pots. Grow a herb garden indoors in a wall-fixed vertical planter, and you'll get the benefits of fragrance (芳香). Fill the 10 planting cells with the herbs of your choice, and hang the planter in a sunny spot. Use the chalkboard borders to label each plant. Measures 16 by 5 by 24 inches and weighs 11 pounds.

    Pocket Projector

    $299 retail at Brookstone

    Let everyone get a good look at the pictures on your smartphone, computer, video player, or digital camera. This rechargeable pocket projector can turn a flat surface into a 60-inch big screen with 1080p HD picture quality. Invite friends for a movie night or a presentation. An HDMI cable is included to connect it to your device.

    Adjustable Tablet Stand

    $159 at Sharper Image

    This is the gift for the person who enjoys mobile. Use it to keep your hands free while doing homework, crafts or writing out bills. It can be rotated through 360 degrees. The stand slides easily under your furniture and can be used on either side of a bed or a sofa. It also folds for storage.