湖北省武汉市2016高考英语二轮复习 阅读理解基础训练（31）.docVIP

湖北武汉市2016高考英语阅读理解二轮基础训练（31） 故事类 As a young boy, I sometimes traveled the country roads with my dad. He was a rural mail carrier, and on Saturdays he would ask me to go with him. Driving through the countryside was always an adventure: There were animals to see, people to visit, and chocolate cookies if you knew where to stop, and Dad did. In the spring, Dad delivered boxes full of baby chickens, and when I was a boy it was such fun to stick your fingers through one of the holes of the boxes and let the baby birds peck on your fingers. On Dads final day of work, it took him well into the evening to complete his rounds because at least one member from each family was waiting at their mailboxes to thank him for his friendship and his years of service.“Two hundred and nineteen mailboxes on my route，” he used to say, “and a story at every one.” One lady had no mailbox, so Dad took the mail in to her every day because she was nearly blind. Once inside, he read her mail and helped her pay her bills. Mailboxes were sometimes used for things other than mail. One note left in a mailbox read, “Nat, take these eggs to Marian; shes baking a cake and doesnt have any eggs.” Mailboxes might be buried in the snow, or broken, or lying on the ground, but the mail was always delivered. On cold days Dad might find one of his customers waiting for him with a cup of hot chocolate. A young girl wrote letters but had no stamps, so she left a few buttons on the envelope in the mailbox; Dad paid for the stamps. One businessman used to leave large amounts of cash in his mailbox for Dad to take to the bank. Once, the amount came to $32,000. A dozen years ago, when I traveled back to my hometown on the sad occasion of Dads death, the mailboxes along the way reminded me of some of his stories. I thought I knew them all, but that wasnt the case. As I drove home, I noticed two lamp poles, one on each side of the street. When my dad was around, those poles supported wooden boxes about four feet off