A man lived in a village. He had an old cat at home. The cat couldn't run fast and bite，because she was so old. One day, when she saw a mouse, she jumped and caught it. But she could not bite it. The mouse got out of her mouth and ran away.

    Then the man became very angry and began to beat the cat. The cat said, “Don't beat your old servant. I know I'm old and can't kill a mouse. But I have worked for you for many years, and I still want to work for you. Be kind to the old, and remember what good work they did when they were young."

    When the man heard that, he realized that he was wrong.

    Frank was clever, but he never liked to work hard. He often said to his friends, "If you work hard, you will make a lot of money, but it is not so good. I want easy work and a lot of money. That's the most interesting thing in the world."So he could only be a thief. But he still thought it was too much work, so he only told his friends what to do and got money from them.

    One day, Frank sent one of his friends to a very large and beautiful house. He told him to get money from that rich family. It was evening, and a man and a girl were in the room. They were playing a duet（二重奏） on a piano. Then the thief came into the house. 

    When he returned, Frank asked him what he had got. But he said, "I didn't take anything. That family can't have much money. You know, two people were playing on the same piano there. They did not have money to buy another piano."

    When my first wartime Christmas came, I was in basic training in New Jersey and not sure if I would make it home for the holidays. Only on the afternoon of December 23 was the list of men who would have the three-day holiday posted. I was one of the lucky soldiers. It was Christmas Eve when I arrived home, and a little snow had fallen. Mother opened the front door. I could see beyond her, into the corner of the living room where the tree had always stood, there were lights, all colors, and ornaments (饰品) shining against the green of a pine.

    “Where did it come from?” I asked.

    “I asked the Gates boy to cut it,” my mother said. “I wouldn't have had one just for myself, but when in great need…such a rush! He just brought it in this afternoon.”

    The pine reached to the proper height, almost to the ceiling, and the Tree Top Crystal Star was in its place. A few green branches reached out a little awkwardly(难看) at the side, I thought, and there was a bit of bare trunk showing in the middle. But the tree filled the room with warm light and the whole house with the pleasant smell of Christmas.

    “It's not like the one you used to find,” my mother went on. “Yours were always in good shape. I suppose the Gates boy didn't know where to look for a better one. But I couldn't be fussy because he had tried his best.”

    “Don't worry,” I told her. “It's perfect.”

    It wasn't, of course, but at the moment I realized something for the first time: all Christmas trees are perfect.

    Hello! I'm Bill Smith. I'm twelve. This is my sister, Jenny. She's ten. We are from the USA. But now we are in China. My father is an English teacher in a school. My mother is a doctor. They work hard.

    At school I have a friend. His name is Ben Jones. He's twelve, too. He's from England. We all like China.