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!

    Here's an idea whose time has come: A flu shot that doesn't require an actual shot.

    For the first time, researchers have tested a flu vaccine patch (疫苗贴) in a human clinical trial and found that it delivered as much protection as a traditional injection with a needle. Doctors and public health experts have high hopes that it will increase the number of people who get immunized (免疫的) against the flu.

    Seasonal flu is responsible for up to half a million deaths around the world each year according to the World Health Organization. A team led by Georgia Tech engineer Mark Prausnitz has come up with an alternative method that uses “microneedles”. These tiny needles are so small that 100 of them, arranged in order on a patch, can fit under your thumb (拇指).Yet they're big enough to hold vaccine for three types of flu.

    None of the study volunteers had serious side effects. The groups that got patches had mild skin reactions that were not seen in the regular needle group, while the volunteers in the regular needle group were more likely to experience pain. Overall, 70 percent of the volunteers who got vaccine patches said they'd rather use them again than get a traditional flu shot. The study authors declared it a success on all fronts.

    The biggest beneficiaries could be people in low- and middle-income countries, where flu vaccines are hard to come by. Reducing pain is nice, but other benefits—the patch costs less，is easier to transport, doesn't require refrigeration, can be self - administered and doesn't cause waste of needles—are even better.

    “Microneedle Patches have the potential to become ideal candidates for vaccination programs,” wrote Katja Hoschler and Maria Zambon of Public Health England.

    Would it surprise you to learn that, like animals, trees communicate with each other and pass on their wealth to the next generation?

    UBC Professor Simard explains how trees are much more complex than most of us ever imagined. Although Charles Darwin thought that trees are competing for survival of the fittest, Simard shows just how wrong he was. In fact, the opposite is true: trees survive through their co-operation and support, passing around necessary nutrition（营养）“depending on who needs it”.

    Nitrogen（氮）and carbon are shared through miles of underground fungi（真菌）networks, making sure that all trees in the forest ecological system give and receive just the right amount to keep them all healthy. This hidden system works in a very similar way to the networks of neurons（神经元）in our brains, and when one tree is destroyed, it affects all.

    Simard talks about “mother trees”, usually the largest and oldest plants on which all other trees depend. She explains how dying trees pass on the wealth to the next generation, transporting important minerals to young trees so they may continue to grow. When humans cut down “mother trees” with no awareness of these highly complex “tree societies” or the networks on which they feed, we are reducing the chances of survival for the entire forest.

    “We didn't take any notice of it” Simard says sadly. “Dying trees move nutrition into the young trees before dying, but we never give them chance.” If we could put across the message to the forestry industry, we could make a huge difference towards our environmental protection efforts for the future.

    Good health is the most valuable thing in the world. When you've got it, you never think about it. When you haven't got it, you think about it all the time. Our biggest enemies are not terrible diseases and so on. We are our own biggest enemies because we sometimes destroy our own good health. Some of us eat too much, drink too much and smoke too much. And though our reason tells us we should control ourselves, we find it difficult. The fact is that most human beings need stimulation (刺激). Who doesn't enjoy a drink after a busy day? Only a smoker knows the pleasure of a cigarette with a cup of coffee.

    The danger is when these innocent pleasures run our lives and so destroy our health. When you find yourself eating between meals or eating too much rich food, when you can only keep yourself going by taking frequent drinks or by smoking one cigarette after another, then it's time to stop and think what you might be doing to yourself. The funny thing is that when we don't control ourselves, simple pleasures are no longer simple pleasures.

    All right, I know what you're thinking. You're probably saying, “It's easy to say, but I can't help myself. I need that extra bit of food, that extra drink, that extra cigarette. Life has so many pleasures that I can't do without them.” But I'm saying you can help yourself. Not only that, you must help yourself. Because if you don't help yourself, no one else can. So be your own best friend.

    To err is human. To blame the other guy is even more human. Common sense is not all that common. Why tell the truth when you can come up with a good excuse?

    These three popular misquotes (戏谑的引语) are meant to be jokes, and yet they tell us a lot about human nature. To err, or to make mistakes, is indeed a part of being human, but it seems that most people don't want to accept the responsibility for the problem. Perhaps it is the natural thing to do. The original quote about human nature went like this: "To err is human, to forgive, divine (神圣的)." This saying mirrors a deal people should be forgiving of others' mistakes. Instead, we tend to do the opposite-find someone else to pass the blame on to.

    However, taking responsibility for something that went wrong is a making of great maturity.

    Common sense is what we call clear thought. Having common sense means having a good general plan that will make things work well, and it also means staying with the plan. Common sense tells you that you take an umbrella out into a rainstorm, but you leave the umbrella home when you hear a weather forecast for sunshine. Common sense does not seem to be common for large organizations, because there are so many things going on that one person cannot be in charge of everything. People say that in a large company," the right hand does not know what the left hand is doing."

    And what is wrong with a society that thinks that making up a good excuse is like creating a work of art? One of the common problems with making excuses is that people, especially young people, get the idea that it's okay not to be totally honest all the time. There is a corollary (直接推论) to that: if good excuse is "good" even if it isn't honest, then where is the place of the truth?

    On August 5 just after 7.30 pm, Mike Estepa suffered a massive heart attack. The crazy cyclist was 40 kilometres into his Sunday ride when he stopped by the side of the road to text his family saying he'd be home in about 30 minutes. Moments later, he was lying in the ditch, unconscious.

    Larissa Arthur was driving back to Calgary from a hike in Field, B. C. with a friend. It was a warm and sunny day, and the two were chatting when a flush of yellow caught Arthur's eyes. She immediately pulled off the road.

    As Arthur approached the figure, she feared the worst: Estepa was covered in ants and exhibited no signs of life. There was no pulse and he wasn't breathing." says Arthur. A bystander called 911 and Arthur, a registered nurse, started chest compressions. She and two other drivers took turns carrying out CPR for the next 15 minutes before medical teams arrived and whisked Estepa away.

    Two days later, when Estepa woke up in the hospital, he was shocked to learn he had gone into cardiac arrest (心脏骤停). How did this happen, and, why was he lucky enough to have survived? He was full of gratitude and needed to speak with the woman who had saved him, whom he named his "angel".

    "It was emotional," says Arthur of her meeting with Estepa a few weeks later. Saving his life had extra importance for her: the bike she was returning from that day was one of 100 she's planned to honour her father, who died in 2017 after he fell during a hike that Arthur was meant to be on. "I couldn't save my father's life." Arthur says, "but this was a chance for me to save someone."