As a child, I was really afraid of the dark and of getting lost. These fears were very real and caused me some uncomfortable moments.

Maybe it was the strange way things looked and sounded in my own room at night that scared me so much. There was never complete darkness, but always a streetlight or passing car lights, which made clothes on the back of a chair take on the shape of a wild animal. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the curtains seem to move when there was no wind. A very low sound in the floor would seem a hundred times louder than in the day. My imagination (想象) would run wild, and my heart would beat fast. I would lie very still so that the “enemy” would not discover me.

Another of my childhood fears was that I would get lost, especially on the way home from school. Every morning I got on the school bus right near my home. That was no problem. After school, though, when all the buses were lined up along the street, I was afraid that I would get in the wrong one and be taken to some other strange places. On school or family trips to a park or a museum, I wouldn't let the leaders out of my sight.

    Perhaps one of the worst fears of all I had as a child was that of not being liked or accepted by others. Being popular was so important to me then, and the fear of not being liked was a serious one.

    One of the processes growing up is being able to realize and overcome our fears. Understanding the things that scared us as children helps us achieve greater success later in life.

    "If you want to see a thing well, reach out and touch it!"

That may seem a strange thing to say. But touching things can help you to see them better.

    Your eyes can tell you that a glass ball is round. But by holding it in your hands, you can feel how smooth and cool the ball is. You can feel how heavy the glass is. When you feel all these about the ball, you really see it. With your skin, you can feel better. For example, your fingers can tell (辨别) the difference between two coins in your pocket. You can feel a little drop of water on the back of your hand, too. You can even feel sounds against your skin. Have you ever wanted to know why some people like very loud music? They must like to feel the sounds of music.

    All children soon learn what "Don't touch!" means. They hear it often. Yet most of us keep on touching things as we grow up. In shops, we touch things we might buy: food, clothes. To see something well, we have to touch it. The bottoms of our feet can feel things, too. You know this when you walk on warm sand, cool grass or a hard floor. All feel different under your feet.

    There are ways of learning to see well by feeling. One way is to close your eyes and try to feel everything that is touching your skin. Feel the shoes on your feet, the clothes on your body, the air on your skin. At first, it is not easy to feel these things. You are too used to them!

    Most museums are just for looking. But today some museums have some things to touch. Their signs say, "Do touch!" There you can feel everything on show.

    If you want to see better, reach out and touch. Then you will really see!

    Soaping up your hands may do more than just get rid of germs. It may wash away the inner confusion you feel right after being forced to make a choice between two appealing choices, according to a new study. The study builds on past research into a phenomenon known as “the Macbeth effect”.

    It turns out that Shakespeare was really onto something when he imagined lady Macbeth trying to clean her conscience（良心）by rubbing invisible bloodstains from her hands. A few years ago, scientists asked people to describe a past wrong act. If people were then given a chance to clean their hands, they later expressed less guilt than people who hadn't cleaned.

    This finding fascinated W. S. Lee, a researcher. “Anything from the past, any kind of negative emotional experiences, might be washed away,” says Lee.

He decided to test hand washing's effect on one kind of bad feeling: the tension we feel after being forced to choose between two attractive choices, because picking one choice makes us feel that we've lose the other. People usually try to calm this inner conflict by later exaggerating（夸大）the positive aspects of their choice.

    He had students rank 10 different music CDs. Then be offered students one CD as a gift. Some students then use liquid soap. Others only looked at the soap or sniffed（噢）it. “Actually, you do not need water and soap,” says Lee.

    Later, the students again had to rank all the music. People who didn't wash their hands had the normal response — they scored their take-home CD higher. Suggesting that they now saw it as even more attractive than before. But this wasn't true for the hand washers. They ranked the music about the same. “they feel no need at all to justify the choice,” say Lee.

    But the implications of it just aren't clear. Schwarz says it's too soon to know whether people should head for a sink after making a tough choice. He says washing may help decision-makers by cleaning away mental disorder, but perhaps if they don't go through the usual post-decision process of justifying their choice, they might feel more sorrow in the long run.

    Gus Wenner runs Rollingstone.com; his father gave him the job. But Jann Wenner, the magazine's co­founder and publisher, was quick to assure critics of the appointment process that his son is terribly talented and had to prove himself before being given the post. Apparently Gus worked his way up from more junior positions with the company, and demonstrated, according to his father, the “drive and discipline and charm, and all the things that show leadership.” Gus Wenner is 22 years old.

    He is certainly not the only kid out of college, or even out of high school, working at daddy's firm. Family contacts are a common way of finding both temporary internships and longtime careers. Opportunities for the children of top 1 percent are not the same as they are for the 99 percent.

    This is hardly a shock, but it is precisely the type of inequality that reveals the hard­ to­ define promise of the “Just Do It” version of the American dream and deepens our cynicism(愤世嫉俗) about how people get ahead. As a consequence, it weakens support for public policies that could address the lack of upward mobility among children born at the bottom, who ought to be given priority. A strong tie between adult outcomes and family background annoys Americans. When an organization conducted a nationally representative survey asking about the meaning of “the American dream”， some typical answers included: “Being free to say or do what you want” and “Being free to accomplish almost anything you want with hard work.” but also “Being able to succeed regardless of the economic circumctances in which you were born.”

    This is exactly the reason that “the American dream” is not only a defining metaphor for the country, but also why Americans have long been willing to tolerate a good deal more economic inequality than citizens of many other rich countries. A belief in the possibility of upward mobility not only morally justifies inequality as the expression of talents and energies, but also extends a promise to those with lower incomes. After all, why would you be a strong advocate for reducing inequality if you believe that you, or eventually your children, were likely to climb the income ladder?

    Hard work and perseverance(毅力) will always be ingredients for success, but higher inequality has made having successful parents, if not essential, certainly a central part of the recipe.

    The belief that talent is something you are born with, and that opportunities are open to anyone with ambition and energy, also has a dangerous consequence. When the public policy is focused on the difficult situation of the poor, this belief can help the concept resurface that the poor are “undeserving” and are the authors of their own situation. Yet we actually know a good deal about why children of the poor have a higher chance of being stuck on poverty as adults.

    The recipes for breaking this intergenerational trap are clear: a nurturing(培养) environment in the early years combined with accessible and high­quality health care and education promote the capacities of young children, heighten the development of their skills as they grow older, and eventually raise their chances of upward mobility.

    Talent is nurtured and developed, and even genes are expressed differently depending upon environmental influences.

    The 1 percent are the goal for these upper­middle­class families, who after all have also experienced significant growth in their relative standing. The graduate and other higher degrees that they hold, for which they put in considerable effort, have put them on the upside of the wave of globalization and technical change that has transformed the American job market.

    An age of higher inequality gives them both more resources to promote the capacities of their children, and more encouragement to make these investments since their children now have all the more to gain.

    For them, an American dream based on effort and talent still lives, and as a result they are less likely, with their considerable cultural and political influence, to support the reshaping of American public policy to meet its most pressing need: the future of those at the bottom.

    Mr. and Mrs. Wormwood had a son called Michael and a daughter called Matilda, who was so quick to learn that her ability should have been obvious even to the most stupid parents. But she was their daughter. To tell the truth, I doubt they had noticed she crawled into the house with a broken leg.

    By the age of one and a half her speech was perfect and she knew as many words as most grown-ups. The parents, instead of praising her, called her a noisy chatterbox and told her sharply that small girls should be seen and not heard.

    By the time she was three, Matilda had taught herself to read by studying newspapers and magazines that lay around the house. At the age of four, she could read fast and well and she naturally began seeking for books. The only book in the whole of this enlightened household was something called Easy Cooking belonging to her mother, and when she had read this from cover to cover, and had learnt all the recipes by heart, she decided she wanted something more interesting.

    "Daddy," she said, "do you think you could buy me a book?

    "A book?" he said. "What do you want a book for?"

    "To read, Daddy."

    "What's wrong with the telly? We've got a lovely telly with a twelve-inch screen and now you come asking for a book!"

    Nearly every weekday afternoon Matilda was left alone in the house. Her brother went to school. Her father went to work and her mother went out playing bingo. On the afternoon of the day when her father had refused to buy her a book, Matilda set out all by herself to walk to the public library in the village. She asked Mrs. Phelps, the librarian, if she might sit a while and read a book. Mrs. Phelps, slightly surprised at the arrival of such a tiny girl unaccompanied by a parent, nevertheless told her she was very welcome.

    "Where are the children's books please!" Matilda asked.

    "They're over there on those lower shelves," Mrs. Phelps told her. "Would you like me to help you find a nice one with lots of pictures in it?

    "No, thank you." Matilda said. "I'm sure I can manage."

    From then on, every afternoon, as soon as her mother had left for bingo, Matilda would walk down to the library, where she spent two glorious hours sitting quietly by herself in a cosy comer devouring one book after another. When she had read every single children's book in the place, she started wandering around in search of something else.

    Mrs. Phelps, who had been watching her with interest for the past few weeks, now got up from her desk and went over to her. "Can I help you, Matilda?" she asked.

    "I'm wondering what to read next," Matilda said. "I've finished all the children's books."

    "You mean you've looked at the pictures?"

    "yes, but I've read the books as well. I thought some were very poor, but others were lovely. I like The Secret Garden best of all. It was full of mystery. The mystery of the room behind the closed door and the mystery of the garden behind the big wall".

    Mrs. Phelps was stunned." Exactly how old are you, Matilda?" she asked.

"Four years and three months," Matilda said." I would like a really good book that grown-ups read .A famous one."

    Mrs. Phelps looked along the shelves, taking her time." Try this", she said at last," It's very famous and very good. If it's too long for you, just let me know".

    "Great Expectations," Matilda read, "by Charles Dickens. I'd love to try it"

    Sam, I say to myself as I start across the bridge, you must stop these thoughts and start thinking about what to do now that you have lost your falcon（猎鹰）, Frightful.

    Life, my friend Bando once said, is meeting problems and solving them whether you are an amoeba or a space traveler. I have a problem. I have to provide my younger sister Alice and myself with meat. Fish, nuts, and vegetables, are good and necessary, but they don't provide enough fuel for the hard physical work we do. Although we have venison（鹿肉） now, I can't always count on getting it. So far this year, our venison has been only road kill from in front of Mrs. Strawberry's farm.

    I decide to take the longest way home, down the flood plain of the West Branch of Delaware to Spilkill, my own name for a fast stream, that cascades down the south face of the mountain range I'm on. I need time to think. Perhaps Alice and I should be like the early Eskimos. We should walk, camp and hunt, and when the seasons change, walk on to new food sources. But I love my tree and my mountaintop.

    Another solution would be to become farmers, like the people of the Iroquois Confederacy who once lived here. They settled in villages and planted corn and squash（南瓜）, bush beans and berries. We already grow groundnuts in the damp soil and squash in the poor land. But the Iroquois also hunted game. I can't do that anymore

    I'm back where I started from.

    Slowly climb the Spillkill. As I hop from rock to rock beneath shady basswoods and hemlocks, I hear the cry of the red﹣tailed hawk who nests on the mountain crest. I am reminded of Frightful and my heart aches. I can almost hear her call my name, Cree, cree, car-ree.

    Maybe l can get her back if l beg the man who is in charge of the peregrines（游隼） university. "But it's the law," he would say. L could write to the president of the United states and ask him to make an exception of Alice and me. That won't work. The president swore to upload the constitution（宪法） and laws of the United States when he took office.

    I climbed on. I must stop thinking about the impossible and solve the problem of what to do now. I must find a new way to provide for us. Frightful is going to be in good hands at the university and she will have young.

    I smile at the thought of little Frightfuls and lift my reluctant feet.

    When I am fat above the river,1take of my clothes and moccasins（鹿皮鞋） and bathe in a deep, clear pool until I am refreshed and thinking more clearly. Climbing up the bank, I dress and sit down. I breath deeply of the mountain air and try to solve my problem more realistically.