unit2_A课文ALL_THE_CABBIE_HAD_WAS_A_LETTER.docVIP

ALL THE CABBIE HAD WAS A LETTER Foster Furcolo He must have been completely lost in something he was reading because I had to tap on the windshield to get his attention. “Is your cab available?” I asked when he finally looked up at me. He nodded, then said apologetically as I settled into the back seat, “I m sorry, but I was reading a letter. He sounded as if he had a cold or something. Im in no hurry,” I told him. “Go ahead and finish your letter.” He shook his head. “I ve read it several times already. I guess I almost know it by heart.” “Letters from home always mean a lot,” I said. “ At least they do with me because I m on the road so much. ” Then, estimating that he was 60 or 70 years old, I guessed: “From a child or maybe a grandchild?” “ This isnt family,” he replied. “Although,” he went on, “come to think of it, it might just as well have been family. Old Ed was my oldest friend. In fact, we used to call each other Old Friend—when we d meet, that is. I m not much of a hand at writing.” “I dont think any of us keep up our correspondence too well,” I said. “I know I dont. But I take it hes someone you ve known quite a while?” All my life, practically. We were kids together, so we go way back.” “ Went to school together?” “All the way through high school. We were in the same class, in fact, through both grade and high school.” There are not too many people who ve had such a long friend ship,” I said. “Actually,” the driver went on, “I hadnt seen him more than once or twice a year over the past 25 or 30 years because I moved away from the old neighborhood and you kind of lose touch even though you never forget. He was a great guy.” “You said was. Does that mean—? He nodded. “Died a couple of weeks ago.” “I m sorry,” I said. “Its no fun to lose any friend—and losing a real old one is even tougher. ” He didnt reply to that, and we rode on in silence for a few minutes. But I realized that Old Ed was still on his mind when he spoke again, almost more