關於大學生講的英語故事

　　在英語教學實踐中,興趣和成就感常常是成功個案的動力源泉。學生對於喜愛的、感興趣的故事,就會主動去讀,會對所讀內容積極思考,努力想讀懂故事、理解故事。本文是，希望對大家有幫助!

　　篇一

　　The Wedding

　　It was a strange day—Thursday—for a wedding. Who ever heard of a Thursday wedding? “Well,” Harlan explained to everyone, “the Thursday event is going to cost me half of what Friday, Saturday, or Sunday would cost me. And a 50-percent discount is a lot of money, believe me.” Everyone believed him. Harlan knew how to count his pennies. The early evening event was at Cowfish, a popular restaurant and meeting place on campus.

　　Nevin and Janelle arrived at 5 p.m. for pictures, but the photographer had been delayed on the freeway because someone had jumped off an overpass. So they decided to take a stroll on campus. Walking westward, they soon found a fish pond. About a dozen small turtles were swimming in the eastern end of the pond. As Janelle kneeled at water’s edge, all the turtles swam toward her. A couple of them climbed out of the water and onto the footpath. They wanted food, but a sign advised visitors not to feed the fish or turtles. So she apologized to the turtles—not that she had any turtle food anyway, she added. Nevin and Janelle took pictures of themselves and the turtles.

　　They walked back to Cowfish just before the ceremony was to begin. Some of the preacher’s words were unclear because of static on the portable microphone. After the preacher pronounced Harlan and Ellen husband and wife, guests clapped and cheered. The photographer, who had gotten “some great pictures” of the fallen body, busily took pictures of the bride and groom, the preacher, the parents, and the guests.

　　After their meal, Nevin and Janelle said good night to the newly married couple. This was the fourth marriage for Harlan, so everyone was hoping it would be his last. Then Nevin and Janelle walked out to their car, holding hands and talking about what would be the same and what would be different at their own wedding. That is, if they didn’t decide to just drive to Las Vegas for a quick marriage, with Elvis performing at their ceremony. “That way, our only difficult decision will be to pick which song he will sing for us,” Janelle said.

　　The next day, Harlan called Nevin to thank him for coming to the wedding. “By the way, how was your steak?” he asked. “Ernie told me his steak was tough, and so did several others.”

　　“Mine was tough,” Nevin said. “It looked and smelled good, but it was tough. I needed a steak knife, because my butter knife wasn’t working out. But they didn’t have any steak knives on the table. I guess that’s part of our war against terrorists. So, I ate about a fourth of it, and left the rest on the plate. Janelle's was a little tough, too. She switched it for salmon.”

　　Nevin went on. “Also, as you probably know, the only urinal was busted. It had an out of order sign on it. One of the two soap dispensers in the men’s room was completely empty of soap. On the plus side, the wait staff served the food without coughing on it or getting their fingers all over the plates or glasses. And they always said sir, ma’am, please, thank you, and you’re welcome. And, perhaps most important to me, I never had to ask to have my coffee cup refilled.”

　　Harlan asked Nevin to write a letter to the Cowfish about how tough his steak was, and about the other negatives he had just mentioned. Nevin asked how much Harlan was hoping to getrefunded. “Well, I think they’re going to get four or five complaint letters. If they don’trefund me at least $2,000, I'll tell them that I’m going to hire a lawyer.”

　　“Well, I hope the rest of the evening went better than the dinner,” Nevin said.

　　“Oh, yes,” said Harlan. “I was online all last night and found a great deal on a cruise to Panama. We’ll save 50 percent if we go during the rainy season and if we take the cabin nearest to the engine room, so I signed us up.”

　　篇二

　　The Hospital Orderly

　　Jake was tired of his job. He’d been doing it for 10 years, and it wasn’t getting any easier. He was a hospital orderly. That’s a vague title that covers many specific duties—some of which are quite unpleasant. Whenever a patient threw up, for example, it was Jake's responsibility to clean the patient’s body and face, remove all the soiled clothing and bed linens, put fresh bed linens on the bed, and put clean hospital clothing on the patient. After hundreds of such incidents, Jake still had not gotten used to the odor and sight of fresh vomit. It was disgusting. Every time he cleaned up vomit, he thought to himself that he wasn’t getting paid nearly enough.

　　Jake was also responsible for checking a patient’s blood pressure, taking his pulse and temperature ***usually orally, but sometimes rectally***, and doing electrocardiograms to monitor his heart condition. These chores used to be done by nurses or technicians. Now they were done by Jake. He fed patients who couldn’t feed themselves. He helped move patients from their beds to gurneys, or from their beds to wheelchairs, and vice versa. Whenever a patient died in his hospital bed, it was Jake’s job to zip the body into a plastic bag, put the bag on a gurney, and roll the gurney into the elevator and downstairs into the basement morgue. Sometimes he stayed in the morgue, just thinking.

　　Jake was always sick. He repeatedly got infections—mostly colds or the flu—from patients. He considered himself lucky to be alive, considering what he’d read about deadly bacteria and viruses that were developing immunity to all the latest drugs. A hospital is a dangerous place. He wanted out of the hospital, but he had nowhere to go. He was no spring chicken. The pay, benefits, and hours were good. His schedule regularly included three- or four-day weekends.

　　But, he was just going through the same motions, day after day. He was at the top of the ladder for an orderly. There were no other jobs that he could qualify for, unless he wanted to go to school for several years to become a tech or a registered nurse. But those jobs would mean working in a hospital. He wanted out.

　　He wished he had stayed with his old job as an assistant pro at Brookside Golf Course. The pay was low and the benefits were few, but the game of golf was his passion. He loved teaching the game to others. He was a happy man when he worked at the golf course—the freshly mowedgreen grass, the blue sky, the white clouds. Not a sick person in sight—only healthy people, enjoying themselves. Why had he quit that job, he wondered over and over. Ten years ago, he must have had a good reason, but he sure couldn’t remember what it was now. His life was now a constant regret about the poorest decision he had ever made.

　　篇三

　　Man Flies 200 Miles

　　Bo Jackson was sitting in his favorite chair, drinking a beer, and watching a football game. At halftime, a car commercial featured a few hundred helium balloons floating skyward. I could do that, Bo thought. I could strap a bunch of balloons to my lawn chair and float up into the sky.

　　He told his wife. She asked him how many beers he’d had. He told her that he wasn’t joking. What was the problem, he asked. Blow up a bunch of balloons, tie them to his chair, and away he goes. How was he going to steer, she asked. The wind would steer him, he said. How would he know where he was going to land? When he saw a nice landing spot, he’d just shoot holes in the balloons with his BB pistol, he said. He told her not to be so negative.

　　He went online and found out what wind patterns were in Oregon that time of the year. He called up his friend Duke, who was a pilot. In a few days, Bo had it all figured out. He called up a balloon store and ordered 50 balloons and a few helium tanks to fill up the balloons. His 6-year-old son asked if he could go with him. His wife promised to divorce him if he actually went through with this.

　　A few days later, Duke and Bo drove a few miles out of town where there were no electrical wires. They used fishing line to secure 50 balloons to the lawn chair. The chair was secured to the truck. They filled up all the balloons. The balloons were actually lifting the truck off the ground a little. Bo put on his jacket, shook hands with Duke, and sat in the chair. He tied a rope to his belt and the chair, in case he fell out of the chair. All he had was a knife, an altimeter, his cell phone, a BB pistol, and a pair of binoculars. At 8 a.m., Duke took a picture of Bo sitting in the lawn chair. Duke then cut the rope holding the chair to the truck. The balloons lifted Bo so fast he almost fell out of the chair.

　　Bo got up to 15,000 feet, where the air is thin. His heavy coat kept him warm. The wind carried himeastward at an average speed of 22 mph. He flew over the Cascade Range. When he got near the Ochoco Mountains, he started shooting the balloons. He made a soft landing near Paulina, about 200 miles east of Roseburg. Duke was waiting for him. When Bo got home late that night, he tried to tell his wife all about his journey. Still angry, she refused to listen to his story. She couldn’t believe that her husband could be so stupid. She told Bo to sleep on the sofa. The next day, he told his son about his interesting adventure. His son went to school and bragged about his dad to all of his schoolmates. Nobody believed him.