Mr. Smith made many tests (作试验) with different animals and the monkey was the cleverest of all the animals. One day Mr. Smith put a monkey in a room. He also put some small boxes in it. In one of the boxes there was some food. "How long will it take the monkey to find the food?" Mr. Smith said to himself. "Let me wait and see." He left the room and waited outside. Three minutes later, he put his eye to the keyhole (钥匙眼). What did he see? He saw the eye of the monkey. The monkey was on the other side of the door and looked at Mr. Smith through the keyhole.

    Mick Polly has a toy store. He lives with his daughter Carolina in Kentucky, US. People also call him the Bike Man because over the past few years, Mick has built hundreds of bikes for needy kids.

    One day in 2012, a 13-year-old boy with a broken (坏的) bike walked by Mick' s house. "I was working in my garage (车库), and he asked if I could repair (修理) it," said Mick.

    The boy's bike had broken wheels (车轮). Mick posted (发布) a picture on Facebook, asking his friends if they had the parts he needed. One friend saw the picture and gave away two used bikes. Mick took parts from each to build new wheels for the boy.

    Soon after, Mick repaired a bike for the boy's brother and one for his sister. During the year, he repaired lots of bikes for kids whose parents didn't have enough money for new ones.

    "People are throwing away (扔掉) bikes every day," said Mick.

    Mick puts the bikes and bike parts in his garage. "I take off the good wheels and use them," he said.

    Up to now, Mick has repaired hundreds of bikes and given away almost 700 newly repaired bikes. They're free, but the kids must agree to try their best to study in school.

    Mick also hopes the bikes will get kids off the sofa (沙发)" When I was growing up we all rode our bikes" he said' Hopefully these kids can get some exercise."

    When I just moved to Los Angeles（洛杉矶）, I didn't have a car.{#blank#}1{#/blank#}, but I wanted to prove（证明）them wrong.

    I asked my neighbor, Mrs. White, to take me to the bus station in the center of the city, so I could try taking the bus home.{#blank#}2{#/blank#}. When I got there, I went inside and got a bus timetable（时刻表）. I looked at the map and worked out that I needed to take three buses to get home.

    I bought the tickets and went outside to wait at the bus stop for the Number 8 bus. {#blank#}3{#/blank#}. I gave my ticket to the bus driver and took a seat. At the right stop I got off. {#blank#}4{#/blank#}. I waited and waited. A man was also waiting for the same bus. He said that it wasn't unusual for the bus to be late. Half an hour later, it finally came. To make the matter worse, the third bus broke down halfway and the driver had to fix it. {#blank#}5{#/blank#}. So when I finally got home, I was very tired. Maybe getting a car in Los Angeles wasn't such a bad idea!

When I was finishing my tour in Iraq, my parents provided a vacation as a Christmas gift. "London,"I said. They seemed a bit surprised: I grew up there. Why didn't I choose a foreign place? I told them I wanted to go somewhere cold and wet after seven weeks in the desert. At that time this made sense(讲得通), but 10 years later, I've realised I wanted to return for a different reason: South Bank.

 When I was 9, we packed up our home in Los Angeles and arrived at Heathrow, London, on a gray January morning. Everyone in the family was comfortable living in this city except me. Without my beloved beaches and endless blue-sky days, I felt lost and out of place, until I found something.

South Bank is the centre of British skateboarding. I loved it. I soon made friends with the local skaters. We spoke our own language, and my favourite: Safe. Safe meant "cool". It meant"hello". It meant"don't worry about it". Once, when trying a certain skill, I fell onto the stones, and Toby came over, helping me up, "Safe, man. Safe." A few minutes later, when I landed the skill, my friends beat their boards loud, shouting,"Safe! Safe! Safe!"And that's the important thing —landing skills, being a good skater.

When I was 15, my family moved to Washington. I tried skateboarding there, but the locals were far less welcoming. Within a couple of years, I'd given it up.

When I returned to London years later, I found myself walking slowly down to South Bank for hours. I've traveled back several times since, most recently this past spring. The day was cold but clear: tourists and Londoners stopped to watch the skaters. Then a teenager, in a baggy white T-shirt, sat next to me. He seemed not to notice me. But soon I caught a few of his glances. "I was a local here 20 years ago," I told him. Then, slowly, he began to nod his head, "Safe, man. Safe."

"Yeah,"I said. "Safe."

Every year the students at Harry's school put on a concert. Their friends and parents go to the concert. Some students sing and dance. Others act in plays.

Harry likes to act. He also likes to write plays. For one concert he wrote a play about a spaceman. He called it Lost in Space. He acted in his play. He was the spaceman.

Harry made his own costume. It was a spacesuit. He used plastic bags to make the pants. He wore a shirt that belonged to his mother. It was an old shirt. It was made of silk. She did not want it anymore.

His shoes were an old pair of his father's. He didn't want them anymore either. They were made of leather.

Harry's helmet was an old motorcycle helmet. 

Harry painted his costume with silver paint. He looked like a spaceman. 

There was only one problem. No one could hear what he said!