Andy never wanted to go to bed on time. His parents had explained to him how important it was to go to bed early and get a good rest. But Andy paid no attention to them, and they didn't know what to do until one weekend when they were visiting Andy's grandparents.

    Grandpa Peter heard all about it and said, "This sounds like a job for Tubby." So Andy's parents loaded the cat onto the car and returned home.

That night, at bedtime, the same problem happened. Andy didn't want to go to bed, and even though his parents waited a while to see if Tubby would solve the problem, nothing happened.

    Hours later, Andy finally decided to go to bed. But what a surprise when he entered his bedroom! Tubby was in his bed, totally sprawling out, pot-belly in the air, and snoring like an express train.

    Andy tried to move the cat, but there was no way of moving him an inch. That night he hardly slept, lying on one tiny corner of his bed.

    The next day the same thing happened, even though Andy was much more tired from not having slept well. When the third day arrived, he had understood that if he wanted to sleep in his bed, he would have to get into it before Tubby did. That night, when his parents only started to mention the topic of bedtime, Andy rushed upstairs and dived into bed. His parents could not believe it. They knew nothing about Tubby in the bed, nor did they understand why Andy went to bed on time without complaint. They were so happy about this that they stayed up quite late, celebrating.

    Those who are used to looking through thousands of books in big bookstores may find Japan's Morioka Shoten a little strange. That's because this tiny bookstore that is located in Ginza, Tokyo sells only a single book at a time.

    Opened in May 2015, Morioka Shoten is the brainchild of Yoshiyuki Morioka. The experienced bookseller began his career as a bookstore clerk in Tokyo's Kanda district before branching out to open his own store. It was here while organizing book readings that he realized that customers usually came into the store with one title in mind. Morioka began to wonder if a store could exist by selling many copies of just one single book. In November 2014, he partnered with his two friends, to establish a unique bookstore with the idea of “A Single Room, A Single Book.”

    Like its offering, the bookstore is simple. The selections that are picked by Morioka change weekly and vary widely to attract customers with different interests. Recent choices include The True Deceiver, an award-winning Swedish novel by Tove Jansson, Hans Christian Andersen's Fairy Tales, and a collection of artist Karl Blossfeldt's photography of plants. Morioka has also chosen books written by famous Japanese authors Mimei Ogawa and Akito Akagi.

    To highlight his only offering, Morioka often uses clever methods. For example，when selling a book about flowers, he decorated his shop with the ones that had been mentioned in the book. He also encourages authors to hold talks and discussions so they can connect with customers. Morioka says his goal is for the customers to experience being inside a book, not just a bookstore!

    Risky as the idea might seem, things appear to be going well. Morioka says he has sold over 2,100 books since he opened it. Things can get better considering that his bookstore is becoming increasingly popular not just among the locals but also visitors from other countries.

    It was very late and everyone had left the cafe except an old man who sat in the shadow the leaves of the tree made against the electric light. In the day time the street was dusty, but at night the dew settled the dust and the old man liked to sit late because he was deaf and now at night it was quiet and he felt the difference. The two waiters inside the cafe knew that the old man was a little drunk, and while he was a good client they knew that if he became too drunk he would leave without paying, so they kept watch on him.

     “Last week he tried to commit suicide,” one waiter said. “Why?” “He was in despair.” “What about?” “Nothing.” “How do you know it was nothing?” “He has plenty of money.”

    They sat together at a table that was close against the wall near the door of the cafe and looked at the terrace where the tables were all empty except where the old man sat in the shadow of the leaves of the tree that moved slightly in the wind. A girl and a soldier went by in the street. The street light shone on the brass number on his collar. The girl wore no head covering and hurried beside him.

     “The guard will pick him up,” one waiter said. “What does it matter if he gets what he's after?” “He had better get off the street now. The guard will get him. They went by five minutes ago.”

    The old man sitting in the shadow rapped on his saucer with his glass. The younger waiter went over to him.

     “What do you want?” The old man looked at him. “Another brandy,” he said.

     “You'll be drunk,” the waiter said. The old man looked at him. The waiter went away.

     “He'll stay all night,” he said to his colleague. “I'm sleepy now. I never get into bed before three o'clock. He should have killed himself last week.”

    The waiter took the brandy bottle and another saucer from the counter inside the cafe and marched out to the old man's table. He put down the saucer and poured the glass full of brandy.

     “You should have killed yourself last week,” he said to the deaf man. The old man motioned with his finger. “A little more,” he said. The waiter poured on into the glass so that the brandy slopped over and ran down the stem into the top saucer of the pile. “Thank you,” the old man said. The waiter took the bottle back inside the cafe.He sat down at the table with his colleague again.

     “He's drunk now,” he said. “He's drunk every night.” “What did he want to kill himself for?” “How should I know.” “How did he do it?” “He hung himself with a rope.” “Who cut him down?” “His niece.” “Why did they do it?” “Fear for his soul.” “How much money has he got?” “He's got plenty.” “He must be eighty years old.” “Anyway I should say he was eighty.” “I wish he would go home.I never get to bed before three o'clock. What kind of hour is that to go to bed?” “He stays up because he likes it.” “He's lonely. I'm not lonely. I have a wife waiting in bed for me.” “He had a wife once too.” “A wife would be no good to him now.” “You can't tell. He might be better with a wife.” “His niece looks after him.You said she cut him down.” “I know.” “I wouldn't want to be that old.An old man is a nasty thing.” “Not always.This old man is clean.He drinks without spilling.Even now, drunk.Look at him.” “I don't want to look at him.I wish he would go home.He has no regard for those who must work.”

    The old man looked from his glass across the square, then over at the waiters.

     “Another brandy,” he said, pointing to his glass.The waiter who was in a hurry came over.

     “Finished,” he said, speaking with that omission of syntax stupid people employ when talking to drunken people or foreigners. “No more tonight. Close now.”

     “Another,” said the old man.

     “No. Finished.” The waiter wiped the edge of the table with a towel and shook his head.

    The old man stood up, slowly counted the saucers, took a leather coin purse from his pocket and paid for the drinks, leaving half a peseta tip. The waiter watched him go down the street, a very old man walking unsteadily but with dignity.

     “Why didn't you let him stay and drink?” the unhurried waiter asked. They were putting up the shutters. “It is not half past two.” “I want to go home to bed.” “What is an hour?” “More to me than to him.” “An hour is the same.” “You talk like an old man yourself.He can buy a bottle and drink at home.” “It's not the same.” “No, it is not,” agreed the waiter with a wife. He did not wish to be unjust. He was only in a hurry. “And you? You have no fear of going home before your usual hour?” “Are you trying to insult me?” “No, hombre, only to make a joke.”

     “No,” the waiter who was in a hurry said, rising from pulling down the metal shutters.“I have confidence.I am all confidence.” “You have youth, confidence, and a job,” the older waiter said.“You have everything.” “And what do you lack?” “Everything but work.” “You have everything I have.” “No.I have never had confidence and I am not young.” “Come on. Stop talking nonsense and lock up.” “I am of those who like to stay late at the cafe,” the older waiter said.“With all those who do not want to go to bed.With all those who need a light for the night.” “I want to go home and into bed.” “We are of two different kinds,” the older waiter said.He was now dressed to go home.“It is not only a question of youth and confidence although those things are very beautiful. Each night I am reluctant to close up because there may be someone who needs the cafe.” “Hombre, there are bodegas open all night long.” “You do not understand.This is a clean and pleasant cafe.It is well lighted. The light is very good and also, now, there are shadows of the leaves.”

“Good night,” said the younger waiter.

     “Good night,” the other said. Turning off the electric light he continued the conversation with himself. It was the light of course but it is necessary that the place be clean and pleasant. You do not want music.Certainly you do not want music.Nor can you stand before a bar with dignity although that is all that is provided for these hours. What did he fear? It was not a fear or dread. It was a nothing that he knew too well. It was all a nothing and a man was a nothing too. It was only that and light was all it needed and a certain cleanness and order. Some lived in it and never felt it but he knew it all was nada y pues nada y nada y pues nada.

    He smiled and stood before a bar with a shining steam pressure coffee machine.

     “What's yours?” asked the barman.

     “Nada.” “Otro loco mas,” said the barman and turned away.

     “A little cup,” said the waiter.

    The barman poured it for him.

     “The light is very bright and pleasant but the bar is unpolished,” the waiter said.

    The barman looked at him but did not answer.It was too late at night for conversation.

     “You want another copita?” the barman asked.

     “No, thank you,” said the waiter and went out.He disliked bars and bodegas.A clean, well-lighted cafe was a very different thing.Now, without thinking further, he would go home to his room.He would lie in the bed and finally, with daylight, he would go to sleep.After all, he said to himself, it's probably only insomnia. Many must have it.

    According to a recent survey on money and relationships, 36% of people are keeping a bank account from their partner. While this financial unfaithfulness may appear as distrust in a relationship, in truth it may just be a form of financial protection.

    With almost half of all marriages ending in divorce, men and women are realizing they need to be financially savvy, regardless of whether they are in a relationship.

    The financial hardship on individuals after a divorce can be extremely difficult, even more so when children are involved. The lack of permanency in relationships, jobs and family life may be the cause of a growing trend to keep a secret bank account hidden from a partner, in other words, an "escape fund".

    Margaret's story is far from unique. She is a representative of a growing number of women in long-term relationships who are becoming protective of their own earnings. Every month on pay day, she banks hundreds of dollars into a savings account she keeps from her husband. She has been doing this throughout their six-year marriage and has built a nest egg worth an incredible $100,000. Margaret says if her husband found about her secret savings he'd be hurt and would take this as a sign that she wasn't sure of the marriage. "He'd think it was my escape fund so that financially I could afford to get out of the relationship if it went wrong. I know you should approach marriage as being forever and I hope ours is, but you can never be sure."

    Like many of her fellow secret savers, Margaret was hurt in a former relationship and has since been very guarded about her own money.

    Coming clean to your partner about being a secret saver may not be all that bad. Take Colleen for example, who had been saving secretly for a few years before she confessed (坦白) to her partner. "I decided to open a savings account and start building a nest egg of my own. I wanted to prove to myself that I could put money in the bank and leave it there for a rainy day."

    Scientists are studying different foods, and they will see which foods protect us from cancer (癌症), and which cause it. It is known that a healthy diet (饮食) will help keep a healthy body weight, which can also decrease the risk (风险) of many types of cancer.

    Fruit and vegetables

    Fruit and vegetables are an important part of a healthy diet. They can decrease the risk of some cancer types like mouth and throat cancer. They are a good source of many important nutrients such as vitamin A, vitamin C, vitamin E, and are an excellent source of fiber.

    Our advice

    Try to get plenty of fruit and vegetables in your diet. Eating fruit and vegetables with a variety of colors will help you get many kinds of vitamins and minerals as the chemicals that give these foods their colors are good for you.

    Meat

    Eating lots of red and processed meat can increase (增加) your risk of stomach cancer. Red meat includes all fresh and frozen beef, pork and lamb. Processed meat includes ham, bacon and sausage. White meat, such as chicken, is unlikely to increase your risk of cancer.

    Our advice

    Eat smaller and fewer parts of red and processed meat. Try using beans or peas instead of meat in your diet. When you cook meat, use low-temperature methods.

    Fat

    Fat is a necessary part of our diet but high-fat diet can increase our risk of cancer, heart disease and other diseases. Meat is higher in saturated fat (饱和脂肪) and eating too much saturated fat may increase your risk of breast cancer.

    Our advice

    Try not to eat too much fatty foods. In particular, try to cut down on saturated fat contained in fatty meat, biscuits, and butter. Try to avoid frying foods in lots of oil.

    One day when I was 5, my mother scolded (责骂) me for not finishing my rice and I got angry. I wanted to play outside and not to be made to finish eating my old rice. When angrily opening the screen door with my foot, I kicked back about a 12-inch part of the lower left hand corner of the new screen door. But I had no remorse, for I was happy to be playing in the backyard with my toys.

    Today, I know if my child had done what I did, I would have scolded my child, and told him about how expensive this new screen door was, and I would have delivered a spanking (打屁股) for it. They never said a word. They left the corner of the screen door pushed out, creating an opening, a breach (裂缝) in the defense against unwanted insects.

    For years, every time I saw that corner of the screen, it would constantly make me think about my mistake. For years, I knew that everyone in my family would see that hole and remember who did it. For years, every time I saw a fly buzzing (嗡嗡) in the kitchen, I would wonder if it came in through the hole that I had created with my angry foot. I would wonder if my family members were thinking the same thing, silently blaming me every time a flying insect entered our home, making life more terrible for us all. My parents taught me a valuable lesson, one that a spanking or stern (严厉的) words perhaps could not deliver. Their silent punishment for what I had done delivered a hundred stern messages to me. Above all, it has helped me become a more patient person and not burst out so easily.