【推荐2】    1     He can’t watch TV after school. He can’t go out on school nights. He has to do his homework first after school.     2    

It’s six o’clock now.     3     He has to do his homework. But it’s noisy outside. Oh, six boys are playing volleyball. Three girls are talking about interesting things.     4     A boy on the chair is listening to music. “I want to relax like them, too,” says Sam. “    5    ”

【推荐3】David, a policeman, came to a small wooden house about two miles up the mountain to get Cal Richards, an armed and dangerous killer. Through a broken window, he saw an old man watching him closely. When he stepped into the house, he found the old man was holding a gun in his hand.

“Government man, aren’t you?” said the old man.

“Yes,” David replied with a friendly smile. “You must be a Pappy Richards.”

“Sure. I’m Cal’s pa. And you’re not going to get him.” The gun pointed at David.

David looked around the house and didn’t see any sign of Cal. “I’ve been to do it,” he said. “But I can see he isn’t here today. I guess I’ll have to come again.” Just the he caught sight of a violin hanging on the wall. “Who plays the violin?” he asked.

For a moment there was silence. In fact, Cal’s pa played the violin best in the area, but he did not answer, with his gun still pointing at David.

David crossed the room to the instrument and felt sweat on his forehead, but he took the violin from the wall as calmly as if he were a welcome visitor. He began to play the violin, one tune（曲子） after another. He was playing better than he had ever played in his life.

The old man stood there, attracted. The hatred in his eyes was giving way to a look of wonder. The gun was now pointed towards the floor. He began to beat time, tapping one foot on the dirt floor. When the final notes of the tune died away, the old man placed the gun in a corner.

“Well, stranger,” the old man said,“ you play the violin excellently. Maybe you’ll stay for dinner and play some more for me.”

After they had eaten, they sat in the spring sunshine outside the house. They talked about violin tunes. Not a word was said about Cal Richards.

About two hours later, David stood up and said, “Sorry! I must be getting back to the town.”

The old man sat, deep in thought. At last, he said, “I like the way you talk, and I like the way you play the violin. I guess you’re a good guy.” He paused as if it were hard to go on. Then, he said in a thick voice, “I—well, I’ll have a talk with Cal. I think he might give himself up tomorrow. You should be at the police station at noon.”

The next day, as the town clock struck twelve, an old man came up the street towards the police station. With him was a young fellow whose appearance told of many days in hiding.