When my brother and I were young, my mom would take us on Transportation Days.

    It goes like this: You can't take any means of transportation more than once. We would start from home, walking two blocks to the rail station. We'd take the train into the city center, then a bus, switching to the tram, then maybe a taxi. We always considered taking a horse carriage in the historic district, but we didn't like the way the horses were treated, so we never did. At the end of the day, we took the subway to our closest station, where Mom's friend was waiting to give us a ride home — our first car ride of the day.

    The good thing about Transportation Days is not only that Mom taught us how to get around. She was born to be multimodal(多方式的). She understood that depending on cars only was a failure of imagination and, above all, a failure of confidence — the product of a childhood not spent exploring subway tunnels.

    Once you learn the route map and step with certainty over the gap between the train and the platform, nothing is frightening anymore. New cities are just light-rail lines to be explored. And your personal car, if you have one, becomes just one more tool in the toolbox — and often an inadequate one, limiting both your mobility and your wallet.

    On Transportation Days, we might stop for lunch on Chestnut Street or buy a new book or toy, but the transportation was the point. First, it was exciting enough to watch the world speed by from the train window. As I got older, my mom helped me unlock the mysteries that would otherwise have paralyzed my first attempts to do it myself: How do I know where to get off? How do I know how much it costs? How do I know when I need tickets, and where to get them? What track, what line, which direction, where's the stop, and will I get wet when we go under the river?

    I'm writing this right now on an airplane, a means we didn't try on our Transportation Days and, we now know, the dirtiest and most polluting of them all. My flight routed me through Philadelphia. My multimodal mom met me for dinner in the airport. She took a train to meet me.

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    The year 2018 will mark the 100th anniversary of the deadliest influenza outbreak in history. It is estimated that the influenza pandemic(瘟疫) of 1918 killed more than 50 million people around the world. Other estimates go much higher. Because of a lack of medical record—keeping, we may never know the exact number.

    The influenza was a fast killer. Some victims died within hours of their first symptoms. Others died after a few days. “Their lungs filled with liquid and they choked to death. ”The 1918 flu pandemic was also different from other outbreaks. It struck many young, healthy people. Viruses usually affect sick or old people.

    Although modem medicine effectively controls many diseases, influenza remains difficult to protect against, The World Health Organization estimates that every year influenza kills 250, 000 to 500, 000 people around the world. Each year, medical scientists develop flu vaccines(疫苗) which offer immunity(免疫)from some influenza viruses. But they can only guess which form of the virus will spread.

    Health officials remain concerned about another flu pandemic. New forms of the flu virus appear regularly. One example was the “swine flu”or H1N1outbreak in 2009. Anthony Fauci, Director of the National Institute of Infectious diseases in the United States says that virus caused a true pandemic.

    To stop the next pandemic, scientists are now researching how to create a universal influenza vaccine. In October 2017, Vanderbilt University Medical Center in the U. S. announced the Universal Influenza Vaccine Initiative. The university said researchers are leading an international effort to develop a universal influenza vaccine that will protect everyone against all forms of the flu anywhere in the world. The university added that researchers will begin tests in early 2018, the Human Vaccines Project, a public—private partnership, is funding the project. However, until a universal influenza vaccine is available, today's seasonal flu vaccine remains important.

    I'm Mr. Lockwood and have been to see my landlord Mr. Heathcliff today. He was standing at the gate to his farm when I arrived. His black eyes looked at me suspiciously.

    The name of Mr. Heathcliff's house is Wuthering Heights. 'Wuthering' means 'stormy' or 'windy' in the local language and it describes the place well. The house stands on the top of a hill. On one side of it there are a few trees. They all lean in the same direction, blown by the strong north winds.

    Then we went into the sitting room. The floor was made of smooth, white stone. There was a big fireplace at one end of it and a large dresser at the other end. Several large hunting dogs were lying in the dark corners of the room. I sat down in one of the chairs near the fire. But unfortunately, when Mr. Heathcliff was out for his servant, Joseph, I was attacked by his hunting dogs.

    To my surprise, I enjoyed our conversation very much, though. When it was time for me to leave, I said, 'I'll come and see you again tomorrow'. I set out after lunch the following day. But Mr. Heathcliff wasn't in, and a young man led me to the sitting room. His manner was proud and free, so I couldn't decide if he was a servant or not. He was dressed like one and spoke like one.

    A few minutes later, Heathcliff walked in. We all drank our tea in silence and there was a very tense atmosphere in the room. I thought it was my fault so I tried to be sociable.

    This is a beautiful part of the country,' I said, 'but very isolated. However, you seem very happy here, with your wife and family…'

    'My wife!' Heathcliff exclaimed looking around him. 'Where? Are you talking about her spirit?'

    How stupid of me! Of course the girl wasn't his wife! She was much too young for him. She must be married to the young man.

    'Mrs. Heathcliff is my daughter-in-law', said Heathcliff, reading my thoughts. There was hatred on his face as he spoke.

    Ah, yes,' I said. 'You are very lucky to have such a lovely wife, young man.'

    The youth went red and looked down at his plate.

    I said she was my daughter-in-law, sir. She was married to my son,' said Heathcliff.

    And this young man is…'

    Not my son.'

    My name is Hareton Earnshaw,' growled the youth angrily.

    The atmosphere began to depress me. After a long silence I asked, 'Perhaps one of your servants is free now to take me home?'

    There's only Heathcliff, Hareton, Zillah the housekeeper, Joseph and me here', said the girl.

    Then I suppose I'll have to stay until the morning.' I replied

    That night, I was arranged in a house where the master didn't usually allow people to stay. I closed the door and got into bed. I put my candle on a small shelf next to a pile of old books. To my surprise, I saw that the shelf was covered in writing. These names were scratched in the paint: Catherine Earnshaw, Catherine Heathcliff and Catherine Linton.

    I picked up one of the books on the shelf. It was a diary. On the first page I read, 'Catherine Earnshaw, her book', and a date of twenty-five years ago. Curious to know more about this Catherine, I started to read. I understand the following: Catherine Earnshaw's father was dead and she lived with her cruel older brother Hindley. Catherine and Heathcliff were close friends, but Hindley and his young wife Frances heated and abused the adopted Heathcliff.

    I had terrible dreams that night. There was a lot of noise-rapping and tapping sounds. I woke up. The branch of a tree outside was hitting the glass in the window. I got up, pushed my hand through the glass and pout out my arm. But instead of the branch my fingers closed on a little ice-cold hand. The hand held mine tightly and a sad voice sobbed, 'Let me in!'

    Who are you?' I said.

Catherine Linton' it replied. 'I've come home. I lost my way on the moor! Let me in!"

    There is a popular saying in the English language: "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me." Well, that is not true. Unkind words, name-calling or even the so-called "the silent treatment" can hurt children as much as being physically hit, sometimes even more so.

    A recent study of middle school children showed that verbal(言语的) abuse by other children can harm development in the brain. The study was a project of researchers at Harvard Medical School in Massachusetts. Researcher Martin Teicher and his team studied young adults, aged 18 to 25. These young men and women had not ever been treated in a cruel or violent way by their parents. The researchers asked the young people to rate their childhood exposure to verbal abuse from both parents and other children. Then the researchers performed imaging tests on the brains of the subjects.

    The images showed that the people who reported suffering verbal abuse from peers in middle school had underdeveloped connections between the left and right side of the brain. The two sides of the brain are connected by a large bundle of connecting fibers called the corpus callosum. This was the area that was underdeveloped.

    The middle school years are a time when these brain connections are developing. So, unkind, hurtful comments from children or adults during this period have the greatest effect. The researchers tested the mental and emotional condition of all the young people in the study. The tests showed that this same group of people had higher levels of fear, depression, anger and drug abuse than others in the study.

    The researchers published their findings online on the American Journal of Psychiatry's website.

    Parents cannot control what other people say to their children, but they can prepare their children.

    To develop one's taste in English, the most effective way is to read English books extensively. Yet one may be at a loss to choose the appropriate books, especially as a beginner. As a native Spanish, I would like to share some of my experience.

    My first English novel was Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice, recommended by many English teachers and professors as an ideal book for English learners. But my experience was somewhat disastrous. I had great difficulty in understanding the novel, let alone enjoying it. It's not the vocabulary that troubled me, but rather the way Austen constructs sentences, and her way of thinking, which seemed too remote to me at that time. My fading enthusiasm was much recovered after reading Hemingway's novel A Farewell to Arms. No long and complicated sentences. And I particularly liked his brief and straightforward (简洁的) style. So my first suggestion is, as a beginner, you'd better choose contemporary novels instead of classical ones.

    However, if you restrict yourself to novels you will miss a lot of treasures. English essays can at once inform you, entertain you, and improve your taste in English. The best example is Bertrand Russell's work. Its language is plain, yet you cannot help feeling the elegance and the peculiar sense of humor. His simple language enables his philosophy within the reach of ordinary people. Here comes my second suggestion—essays are indispensable.

    Never follow others' recommendations and opinions blindly, however famous or influential (有很大影响的) the person might be. We should be open to various ideas, but always think and determine for ourselves. As a saying goes, one man's meat is another man's poison. With that in mind, we are bound to find out our favorite writers through reading and develop our fine taste in English.