Language learning begins with listening. Children are greatly different in the amount of listening they do before they start speaking, and later starters are often long listeners. Most children will “obey” spoken instructions some time before they can speak, though the word “obey” is hardly accurate as a description of the eager and delighted cooperation usually shown by the child. Before they can speak, many children will also ask questions by gesture and by making questioning noises.

    Any attempt to study the development from the noises babies make to their first spoken words leads to considerable difficulties. It is agreed that they enjoy making noises, and that during the first few months one or two noises sort themselves as particularly expressive as delight, pain, friendliness, and so on. But since these can't be said to show the baby's intention to communicate, they can hardly be regarded as early forms of language. It is agreed, too, that from about three months they play with sounds for enjoyment, and that by six months they are able to add new words to their store. This self-imitation leads on to deliberate imitation of sounds made or words spoken to them by other people. The problem then arises as to the point at which one can say that these imitations can be considered as speech.

    It is a problem we need to get our teeth into. The meaning of a word depends on what a particular person means by it in a particular situation and it is clear that what a child means by a word will change as he gains more experience of the world. Thus the use at seven months of “mama” as a greeting for his mother cannot be dismissed as a meaningless sound simply because he also uses it at other times for his father, his dog, or anything else he likes. Playful and meaningless imitation of what other people say continues after the child has begun to speak for himself. I doubt, however, whether anything is gained when parents take advantage of this ability in an attempt to teach new sounds.

    By the mid-nineteenth century, the term “icebox” had entered the American language, but ice was still only beginning to affect the diet of ordinary citizens in the United States. The ice trade grew with the growth of cities. Ice was used in hotels, pubs, and hospitals, and by some forward-looking city dealers in fresh meat, fresh fish, and butler. After the Civil War (1861-1865), as ice was used to refrigerate freight cars(货车), it also came into household use. Even before 1880, half the ice sold in New York, Philadelphia, and Baltimore, and one-third of that sold in Boston and Chicago, went to families for their own use. This had become possible because a new household convenience, the icebox, a precursor（前身）of the modem refrigerator, had been invented.

    Making an efficient icebox was not as easy as we might now suppose. In the early nineteenth century, the knowledge of the physics of heat, which was essential to a science of refrigeration, was undeveloped. The common belief that the best icebox was one that prevented the ice from melting was of course mistaken, for it was the melting of the ice that performed the cooling. Nevertheless, early efforts to economize ice included wrapping the ice in blankets, which kept the ice from doing its job. Not until near the end of the nineteenth century did inventors achieve the delicate balance of insulation(绝缘) and circulation needed for an efficient icebox.

    But as early as 1803, an intelligent Maryland farmer, Thomas Moore, had been on the right track. He owned a farm about twenty miles outside the city of Washington, for which the village of Georgetown was the market center. When he used an icebox of his own design to transport his butter to market, he found that customers would pass up the rapidly melting butter of his competitors to pay an extra price for his butter, still fresh and hard in neat, one-pound bricks. One advantage of his icebox, Moore explained, was that fanners would no longer have to travel to market at night in order to keep their produce cool.

    What should you think about in trying to find your career? You are probably better at some school subjects than others. These may show strengths that you can use in your work. A boy who is good at mathematics can use that in an engineering career. A girl who spells well and likes English may be good at office work. So it is important to do well at school. On the other hand, you may not have any specially strong or weak subjects but your records show a general satisfactory standard. Although not all subjects can be used directly in a job, they may have indirect value. Knowledge of history is not required for most just but if history is one of your good subjects you will have learned to remember facts and details. This is an ability that can be useful in many jobs.

    Your school may have taught you skills, such as typing or technical drawing, which you can use in your work. You may be good at metal work or cookery (烹饪术) and look for a job where you can improve these skills.

    If you have had a part-time job on Saturdays or in the summer, think what you gained from it. If nothing else, you may have learned how to get to work on time, to follow instructions and to get on with older workers. You may have learned to give correct change in a shop, for example. Just as important, you may become interested in a particular industry or career you see from the inside in a part-time job.

    Facing your weak points is also part of knowing yourself. You may be all thumbs when you handle (运用) tools; perhaps you are a poor speller or cannot add up a column of figures. It is better to face any weaknesses than to pretend they do not exist. Your school record, for instance, may not be too good, yet it is an important part of your background. You should not be apologetic about it but instead recognise that you will have a chance of a fresh start at work.

    Four days after Dad's 67th birthday, he had a heart attack. Luckily, he survived. But something inside him had died. His enthusiasm for life was gone. He refused to follow doctor's orders, and his sour attitude made everyone upset when they visit him. Dad was left alone.

    So I asked Dad to come to live with me on my small farm, hoping the fresh air would help him adjust. Within a week after he moved in, I regretted the invitation. He criticized everything I did. I became frustrated. Something had to be done.

    One day I read an article which said when given dogs, depressed patients would be better off. So I drove to the animal shelter that afternoon. As soon as I got there, a pointer's eyes caught my attention. They watched me calmly.

    A staff member said: “He got here two weeks ago and we've heard nothing. His time is up tomorrow.”

    I turned to the man in horror. “You mean you're going to kill him?”

    “Ma'am,” he said gently. “We don't have room for every unclaimed dog.”

    The staff member's calm brown eyes awaited my decision. “I'll take him,” I said.

    I drove home with the dog on the front seat beside me. I was helping it out of the car when Dad walked onto the front porch. “Look what I got you!” I said excitedly.

    Dad wrinkled his face. “I don't want it,” he muttered, turning back towards the house. Then, suddenly, the dog pulled free from my grasp. He sat down in front of my Dad.

    Dad's anger melted, and soon he was hugging the dog.

    This was the beginning of a warm friendship. Dad named the dog Cheyenne. Together they spent long hours walking down dusty lanes and relaxing on the banks of streams.

    Dad's bitterness faded, and he and Cheyenne went on to make many friends. Then, late one night two years later, I felt Cheyenne's cold nose burrowing(搜寻) through my bed covers. He had never before come into my bedroom at night. I ran into my father's room and found that he had passed away.

    Two days later, my shock and grief deepened when I discovered Cheyenne lying dead beside Dad's bed. As I buried him near their favorite stream, I silently thanked the dog for restoring Dad's peace of mind.

    GOING TO UNIVERSITY is supposed to be a mind-broadening experience. That statement is probably made in comparison to training for work straight after school, which might not be so encouraging. But is it actually true? Jessika Golle of the University of Tübingen, in Germany, thought she would try to find out. Her result, however, is not quite what might be expected. As she reports in Psychological Science this week, she found that those who have been to university do indeed seem to leave with broader and more inquiring minds than those who have spent their immediate post-school years in vocational (职业的) training for work. However, it was not the case that university broadened minds. Rather, work seemed to narrow them.

    Dr. Golle came to this conclusion after she and a team of colleagues studied the early careers of 2,095 German youngsters. The team used two standardized tests to assess their volunteers. One was of personality traits, including openness, conscientiousness（认真）and so on. The other was of attitudes, such as realistic, investigative and enterprising. They administered both tests twice—once towards the end of each volunteer's time at school, and then again six years later. Of the original group, 382 were on the intermediate track, from which there was a choice between the academic and vocational routes, and it was on these that the researchers focused. University beckoned for 212 of them. The remaining 170 chose vocational training and a job.

    When it came to the second round of tests, Dr. Golle found that the personalities of those who had gone to university had not changed significantly. Those who had undergone vocational training and then got jobs were not that much changed in personality, either—except in one crucial respect. They had become more conscientious.

    That sounds like a good thing, certainly compared with the common public image of undergraduates as a bunch of lazybones. But changes in attitude that the researchers recorded were rather worrying. In the university group, again, none were detectable. But those who had chosen the vocational route showed marked drops in interest in tasks that are investigative and enterprising in nature. And that might restrict their choice of careers.

    Some investigative and enterprising jobs, such as scientific research, are, indeed beyond the degreeless. But many, particularly in Germany, with its tradition of vocational training, are not. The researchers mention, for example, computer programmers and finance-sector workers as careers requiring these traits. If Dr. Golle is correct, and changes in attitude brought about by the very training Germany prides itself on are narrowing people's choices, that is indeed a matter worthy of serious consideration.

    Mr. Lee was in bed and was trying to go to sleep when he heard the bell ring. He turned on the light and looked at his clock. It was twelve o'clock. "Who can it be at this time of night?" He thought. He decided to go and find out. So he got of bed, put on his dressing gown (浴袍) and went to the door. When he opened the door, there was nobody there. "That is very strange." Then he went back to his bedroom, took off his dressing gown, got back into bed ,turned off the light and tried to go to sleep.

    A few minutes later he heard the bell again. Mr. Lee jumped out of bed very quickly and rushed to the door. He opened it, but again he found no one there. He closed the door and tried not to feel angry. Then he saw a piece of paper on the floor. He picked it up. There were some words on it : "It is now after midnight(午夜), so it is April Fool's Day (愚人节). April fool to you!"

    "Oh, it was the English boy next door!" Mr. Lee exclaimed (惊叫) and almost smiled. He went back to bed and feel asleep at once. The bell did not ring again.