My sister and I grew up in a little village in England. Our father was a struggling lawyer, but I always knew he was special. He never criticized us, but used praise to bring out our best. He'd say, "If you pour water on flowers, they flourish (茂盛). If you don't give them water, they die." I remember as a child I said something unkind about somebody, and my father said, "Any time you say something unpleasant about somebody else, it's a reflection of you." He explained that if I looked for the best in people, I would get the best in return. From then on I've always tried to follow the principle in my life and later in running my company.

    Dad's also always been very understanding. At 15, I started a magazine. It was taking up a great deal of my time, and the headmaster of my school gave me a choice: stay in school or leave to work on my magazine.

    I decided to leave, and Dad tried to sway me from my decision at first, as any good father would. When he realized I had made up my mind, he said, "Richard, when I was 23, my dad persuaded me to go into law. And I've always regretted it. I wanted to be a biologist, but I didn't pursue my dream. You know what you want. Go fulfill it."

    As it turned out, my little publication went on to become Student, a national magazine for young people in the U.K. My wife and I have two children, and I'd like to think we are bringing them up in the same way Dad raised me.

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    In American schools there is something called Homecoming Day. Many high schools and colleges with a football team have a homecoming game. This can be the most important event of the year except graduation or commencement (毕业典礼)Day. Students plan Homecoming Day many weeks in advance.

    Several days before Homecoming, students start to decorate the school. There are signs to wish luck to the team, and many other signs to welcome all the graduates. Many people still come to Homecoming twenty or thirty years after their graduation.

    The members of school clubs build booths(售货棚）and sell lemonade(柠檬汽水), apples and sandwiches. Some clubs help to welcome visitors.

    During the day alumni and their wives will gather at the school. They like to look for teachers that they remember. Often they see old friends and they talk together about those happy years in school.

    Everyone soon comes to watch the football game. When the game is half over, the band comes onto the field and plays school songs. Another important moment is when the Homecoming Queen or King appears. All the students vote the most popular student Homecoming Queen or King. It is a great honor to be chosen.

    Homecoming is a happy day, but it is not perfect unless the football team wins the game. Even if the game loses, the students still enjoy Homecoming. Some stay at the school to dance, and others go to a party. For everyone it is a day worth remembering.

    As I walked along the Edgware Road, I felt as though the world was closing in on me. All the sounds I take for granted, had gone. I had entered a world of silence. This unsettling experience occurred a few weeks ago when I agreed to go deaf for the day to support the work of the charity Hearing Dogs for Deaf People, for which I am an ambassador.

    When I managed to take a cab to the office of my manager, Gavin, I couldn't hear what the taxi driver was saying to me. Conversation was impossible. Then, when I reached the office, I had to ring the intercom five times as I couldn't hear a response.

    Everybody said I was shouting at them—I simply wasn't aware of how loudly I was speaking as I couldn't hear my own voice. Gavin kept telling me my phone was ringing, but I didn't realize. I was too busy trying to concentrate on reading his lips. And when he tried to tell me a code to put into my phone, I had to keep asking him to repeat it, more slowly. Eventually he lost his patience and snapped at me: “Just give me the phone!” I was shocked.

    People couldn't be bothered to repeat themselves, so they kept trying to do things for me that I was perfectly capable of doing myself. I felt I'd lost control.

    Being deaf for the day was extraordinarily tiring. I had to work so hard to “listen” with my eyes, get people's attention and use my other senses to make up for my lack of hearing. It was a huge, exhausting effort.

    Until that experience I didn't realize how much I took my own hearing for granted, or the sorts of emotions and experiences deaf people go through. If a deaf person asks you to repeat something, never think: “It doesn't matter.” It does matter.

    I call my story the story of a bad boy, partly to distinguish myself from those faultless young gentlemen, and partly because I really was not an angel. I may truthfully say I was a friendly, impulsive(易冲动的)teenager. I didn't want to be an angel. In short, I was a real human boy, such as you may meet anywhere in New England.

Whenever a new scholar came to our school, I used to ask him "My name's Tom Bailey; what's your name?" If the name struck me favorably, I shook hands with the new pupil cordially, but if it didn't, I would turn and walk away, for I was particular on this point.

I was born in Rivermouth almost fifty years ago, but, before I became very well acquainted with that pretty New England town, my parents moved to New Orleans. I was only eighteen months old at the time of the move, and it didn't make much difference to me where I was, because several years later, when my father proposed to take me North to be educated, I had my own view on the subject. I instantly kicked over the little boy, Sam, who happened to be standing by me at the moment, and declared that I would not be taken away to live among a lot of Yankees! You see I was what is called "a Northern man with Southern principles," I had no recollection of New England: my earliest memories were connected with the South. I knew I was born in the North, but hoped nobody would find it out. I never told my schoolmates I was a Yankee, because they talked about Yankees in a scornful way which made me feel that it was quite a shame not to be born in the South.

And this impression was strengthened by Aunt Chloe, who said, "There wasn't no gentlemen in the North no way."

    With this picture of Northern civilization in my eye, the readers will easily understand my terror at the bare thought of being transported to Rivermouth to school, and possibly will forgive me for kicking over little Sam, when my father announced this to me. As for kicking little Sam, I always did that, more or less gently, when anything went wrong with me.

    My father was greatly troubled by this violent behavior. As little Sam picked himself up, my father took my hand in his and led me thoughtfully to the library. He appeared strangely puzzled on learning the nature of my objections to going North.

"Who on earth, Tom, has filled your brain with those silly stories?" asked my father calmly.

"Aunt Chloe, sir, she told me."

My father devoted that evening and several evenings to giving me a clear account of New England: its early struggles, its progress, and its present condition. I was no longer unwilling to go North; on the contrary, the proposed journey to a new world full of wonders kept me awake nights. Long before the moving day arrived I was eager to be off. My impatience was increased by the fact that my father had purchased for me a fine little Mustang pony, and shipped it to Rivermouth two weeks before the date set for our own journey. The pony completely resigned me to the situation. The pony's name was Gitana, which is the Spanish for "gypsy", so I always called her Gypsy.

    Finally the time came to leave the vine-covered mansion among the orange-trees, to say goodbye to little Sam(I am convinced he was heartily glad to get rid of me), and to part with Aunt Chloe. I imagine them standing by the open garden gate; the tears are rolling down Aunt Chloe's cheeks; they and the old home fade away. I am never to see them again!

    Chinese students' extremely neat handwritten compositions have aroused a heated debate among Internet users since photos of the compositions and a teacher's picky remarks were published on Daily Mail Online.

    “Can you believe this essay is handwritten? ” Daily Mail Online asked.

    The website reported on the compositions that looked like they had been machine printed and on the teacher's remarks at Hengshui High School in North China's Hebei Province, one of China's top 100 high schools. The teacher wrote, “not one stroke (笔画) more, not one stroke less” about some compositions that weren't neatly written.

    The story immediately aroused a heated debate among British Internet users and got 652 comments after it was published on Wednesday. Some British readers were amazed by the neat handwriting and attributed (归于)China's growing development to this strict teaching method. A reader named Jim said, “This is another example of why China is rising to the top”, and his comment gained 72 supports. But some readers thought the too-picky method doesn't make sense in helping students learn better English and suppresses（压制） students' creativity.

    Chinese Internet users also expressed different opinions after English newspapers, a user of China's Twitter like Sina Weibo, posted the story along with its comments on Weibo on Thursday. Since then, the post has received 1, 479 comments. Sina Weibo user wenjinzetui said, “Beautiful handwriting proves an ability”, echoing an old Chinese saying that the style is the man. However, another Weibo user, honorificabilitus, said, “It's meaningless to pursue that neat English handwriting, since learning language is for communicating, let alone English students don't write that neatly. ”

    There are also many Weibo users showing worry about this too-strict teaching method, as weibo user li-owl-stop said, “We should reflect the Chinese-style education, and it's hard to imagine what would happen if all the schools in China adopted the teaching method at Hengshui High School. ”

    The loud noise of the cars or the sound of a plane can force its way into the deepest forest, yet it's not only humans that are bothered by the noise.

    Bioacoustician Bernie Krause has been studying the effect of noise pollution on wildlife, and has come across some interesting behaviors, especially among animals that communicate by sound, like humans. Birds use sound to communicate, but in noisy places, these animals have to shout over the natural noise to be heard.

    Krause mentions a study of nightingales(夜莺) to explain what he means. The birds responded to（回应） traffic noise by singing louder and louder until they actually went beyond noise pollution standards in the city. To belt out (sing loudly) their songs, they increased their lung pressure fivefold, but scientists say that this is not dangerous for the birds themselves.

    Studies show that sudden noise can cause certain birds to leave their nests, leaving the young to their enemies. One study also showed that songbirds that nested close to busy motorways were much less productive than those that nested farther away. Mammals（哺乳动物）too are affected(影响). A recent study showed that nursing caribou（驯鹿） responded to plane noise by not producing enough milk to feed their young.

    In some cases noise pollution can actually help some animals while harming others. Toads（蟾蜍）and frogs are known to sing in union（同步发声）so that no predator (their enemies) can catch them. Krause found that when planes flew overhead and disturbed the toad's song, they lost their union, and it took them 45 minutes to get it back again. That gave their natural enemies plenty of time to find and catch individual toads by sound.

    According to Kruse, 'Not only will noise pollution bother wildlife, but it won't help our lives either.'