“I never did hate the Yankees （北方佬）. All that I hated was the war...” That's how my great-aunt Bettie began her story. I heard it many times as a child, whenever my family visited Aunt Bettie in the old house in Berryville, Virginia.

Bettie Van Metre had good reason to hate the Civil War. Her brother was killed at Gettysburg, and her husband, James, a Confederate （南方联盟军） officer, was taken prisoner and sent to an unknown prison camp somewhere.

    One day in late September, Dick came to Bettie reporting that he had found a wounded Union soldier in a farmhouse half a mile away from the Van Metre home. When talking about her first sight of the man in the blood-spotted blue uniform, she always used the same words. “It was like walking into a nightmare: those awful bandages, that terrible smell.” She went out into the cool air, trying not to be sick at the thought of that smashed right hand, that missing left leg.

The man's papers Bettie found in the farmhouse showed his identity: Henry Bedell, 30 years old. She knew that she should report the presence of this Union officer to the Confederate army, but she wouldn't. This is how she explained it: “I kept wondering if he had a wife somewhere, hoping, and not knowing—just as I was. It seemed to me that the only thing that mattered was to get her husband back to her.”

Slowly, patiently, skillfully, Aunt Bettie fanned the spark of life in Henry Bedell. Of drugs or medicines she had almost none. And she was not willing to take any from the few supplies at the Confederate hospital. But she did the best she could with what she had.

The October nights in the valley grew cold. With the help of Dick and his wife, she moved the Union officer at night, to a hidden room above the warm kitchen of her own home. But the next day, Bedell had a high fever. Knowing that she must get help, she went to her family doctor, Graham Osborne. Dr. Osborne examined Bedell and said, “there was little hope unless proper medicines could be found.”

“I'll get them from the Yankees at Harpers Ferry.” Bettie said. The doctor told her that Harpers Ferry was almost 20 miles away. Even if she reached them, the Yankees would never believe her. “I'll take proof,” Bettie said. She found a blood-spotted paper bearing the official War Department seal （印章）. “When I show it, they'll believe me.”

Early the next morning she set off with a list of medical items. For five hours she drove, stopping only to rest her horse. The sun was almost down when she finally stood before the general at Harpers Ferry. The general listened, but did not believe her. “Madam,” he said, “Bedell's death was reported to us.” “He's alive,” Bettie insisted. “But he won't be much longer unless he has the medicines on that list.” “Well,” the general turned to a junior officer, “see that Mrs. Van Metre gets the supplies.”

With the medicines, Bedell gradually recovered. Ten days later he was walking with sticks. “I'd better go back as soon as possible.” Bedell told Bettie. So it was arranged that Dick should help Bettie deliver Bedell to Harpers Ferry in his wagon. Bedell lay down in a box filled with hay, his rifle and sticks beside him.

    At Harpers Ferry, the soldiers were amazed when the Union officer with the missing leg rose from his hay-filled box. Bedell told the story to Secretary of War Edwin M. Stanton, who wrote a letter of thanks to Bettie and signed an order to free James Van Metre. It was arranged for Bedell to go with Bettie as she searched for her husband. Records showed that a James Van Metre had been sent to a prison camp in Ohio. Then at Fort Delaware, near the end of the line of prisoner, a tall man stepped out and walked clumsily into Bettie's arms. Bettie held him, tears streaming down her face. And Henry Bedell, standing by on his sticks, wept, too.

    Have your parents ever inspected your room to see if you cleaned it properly? Imagine having your entire houses, garage, and yard inspected at any time -- with no warning. Inspections were a regular part of lighthouse (灯塔) living, and a keeper's reputation depended on results. A few times each year, an inspector arrived to look over the entire light station. The inspections were supposed to be a surprise, but keeper sometimes had advance notice.

    Once lighthouses had telephones, keepers would call each other to warn that the inspector was approaching. After boats began flying special flags noting the inspector aboard, the keeper's family made it a game to see who could notice the boat first. As soon as someone spotted the boat, everyone would do last-minute tidying and change into fancy clothes. The keeper then scurried to put on his dress uniform and cap. Children of keepers remember inspectors wearing white gloves to run their fingers over door frames and windowsills looking for dust.

    Despite the serious nature of inspections, they resulted in some funny moments. Betty Byrnes remembered when her mother did not have time to wash all the dishes before an inspection. At the time, people did not have dishwashers in their homes. In an effort to clean up quickly, Mrs. Byrnes tossed all the dishes into a big bread pan, covered them with a cloth and stuck them in the oven. If the inspector opened the oven door, it would look like bread was baking. he never did.

    One day, Glenn Furst's mother put oil on the kitchen floor just before the inspector entered their house. Like floor wax, the oil made the floors shiny and helped protect the wood. This time, though, she used a little too much oil. When the inspector extended his hand to greet Glenn's mother, he slipped on the freshly oiled surface. "He came across that floor waving his arms like a young bird attempting its first flight," Glenn late wrote. After he steadied himself, he shook Glenn's mother's hand, and the inspection continued as though nothing had happened.

    For centuries people have hunted animals for food and pleasure.The invention of the gun made it so easy for humans to hunt that some animals were lolled by the thousands and even became extinct（绝种的）.This brings up some serious problems since breaks in the food chain upset the balance of nature.

    Large animals like tigers are being killed by the hundreds every year in India.The Royal Bengal tiger is the only type that exists in India and their number is greatly reduced every year because of poaching（偷猎）.The present number is about 2,000, all of which live in tiger reserves.Two hundred years ago the population was 23,000 or more.

    During the British rule of India,many of the so-called English gentlemen killed tigers for pleasure and to show their bravery.This seems stupid because killing an innocent（无辜的）creature with a gun is not a brave deed.

    Today the tiger skin is very popular.Rich people and fashion designers have no idea what they are doing. Competition between the rich to show off makes them blind to the serious effects.People persuade villagers to kill tigers to get money,and they do it because they are poor and need to feed their families.We must educate them,and the government should give them proper jobs to help solve this problem.

    The people to blame are those who buy animal products like ivories,furs,tiger bones for medicine and handbags made of animal skins.They must be put behind bars to stop this kind of trade.The earth is home for everyone on it. The trees,animals,birds,and fish of all kinds belong here as much as we do.Only we have the power to change their fate.

    When you go to the doctor, you like to come away with a prescription．It makes you feel better to know you will get some medicine. But the doctor knows that medicine is not always needed. Sometimes all a sick person needs is some reassurance that all will be well. In such cases the doctor may prescribe a placebo.

    A placebo is a sugar pill, a harmless shot, or ail empty capsule. Even though they have no medicine in them, these things seem to make people well. The patient thinks it is medicine and begins to get better. How does this happen?

    The study of the placebo opens up new knowledge about the way the human body can heal itself. It is as if there was a doctor in each of us. The doctor will heal the body for us if we let it. But it is not yet known just how the placebo works to heal the body. Some people say it works because the human mind fools itself. These people say that if the mind is fooled into thinking it got medicine, then it will act as if it did, and the body will feel better.

    Placebos do not always work. The success of this treatment seems to rest a lot with the relationship between the patient and the doctor. If the patient has a lot of trust in the doctor and if the doctor really wants to help the patient, then the placebo is more likely to work. So in a way, the doctor is the most powerful placebo of all.

    A placebo can also have bad effects. If patients expect a bad reaction to medicine, then they will also show a bad reaction to the placebo. This would seem to show that a lot of how you react to medicine is in your mind rather than in your body. Some doctors still think that if the placebo can have bad effects it should never be used. They think there is still not enough known about it.

    The strange power of the placebo does seem to suggest that the human mind is stronger than we think it is. There are people who say you can heal your body by using your mind. And the interesting thing is that even people who swear this is not possible have been healed by a placebo．

    A new study, which was published in the American Journal of Preventive Medicine, found that heavy use of platforms such as Facebook and Snapchat was associated with feelings of being separated from society among young adults—basically the opposite of what we are led to believe.

    Study co-author Brian Primack and his team surveyed 1,787 U. S. adults aged 19 to 32 and asked them about their usage of 11 social media platforms. They also asked participants questions related to social isolation, such as how often they felt left out. The participants who reported spending the most time on social media—over two hours a day—had twice the odds of perceived（感知到的）social isolation than those who said they spent a half-hour per day or less on the same sites.

    According to Tom Kersting, psychotherapist and author of Disconnected, the key to understanding these results lies in our understanding of “connections.” “Humans are social —emotional beings, meaning that it is in our DNA to be connected, face-to-face, with other humans,” he told Reader's Digest. “Although people think being on social media all the time makes them 'connected' to others, they are actually 'disconnected,' because the more time one spends behind a screen, the less time one spend face-to-face.”

    “Part of the issue of loneliness is that the majority of people who use social media aren't just posting, they are also viewing,” Kersting continued. “They are spending a lot of time looking at everyone else's posts, where they are and what they are doing. The constant exposure to everyone else's 'perfect' life experiences causes feelings of being left out.”

    So what's the answer? It's simple, says Kersting. “The solution to this is resisting the temptation to look at everyone else's life. Just focus on your own life, where you're going, what you are grateful for, and what you want to accomplish in this world.”

    In ancient Egypt, the pharaoh (法老) treated the poor message runner like a prince when he arrived at the palace, if he brought good news. However, if the exhausted runner had the misfortune to bring the pharaoh unhappy news, his head was cut off.

    Shades of that spirit spread over today's conversations. Once a friend and I packed up some peanut butter and sandwiches for an outing. As we walked light-heartedly out of the door, picnic basket in hand, a smiling neighbor looked up at the sky and said, "Oh, boy, bad day for a picnic. The weatherman says it's going to rain." I wanted to strike him on the face with the peanut butter and sandwiches. Not for his stupid weather report, for his smile.

    Several months ago I was racing to catch a bus. As I breathlessly put my handful of cash across the Greyhound counter, the sales agent said with a broad smile, "Oh, that bus left five minutes ago." Dreams of head-cutting!

    It's not the news that makes someone angry. It's the unsympathetic attitude with which it's delivered. Everyone must give bad news from time to time, and big winners do it with the proper attitude. A doctor advising a patient that she needs an operation does it in a caring way. A boss informing an employee he didn't get the job takes on a sympathetic tone. Big winners know, when delivering any bad news, they should share the feeling of the receiver.

    Unfortunately, many people are not aware of this. When you're tired from a long flight, has a hotel clerk cheerfully said that your room isn't ready yet? When you had your heart set on the toast beef, has your waiter merrily told you that he just served the last piece? It makes you as traveler or diner want to land your fist (拳头) right on their unsympathetic faces.

    Had my neighbor told me of the upcoming rainstorm with sympathy, I would have appreciated his warning. Had the Greyhound salesclerk sympathetically informed me that my bus had already left, I probably would have said, "Oh, that's all right. I'll catch the next one." Big winners, when they bear bad news, deliver bombs with the emotion the bombarded (被轰炸的) person is sure to have.