(英语毕业论文)《警察与赞美诗》的功能文体分析

第一篇：(英语毕业论文)《警察与赞美诗》的功能文体分析

本科生毕业设计（论文）封面

（2016 届）

论文（设计）题目 作 者 学 院、专 业 班 级 指导教师（职称）论 文 字 数 论文完成时间

大学教务处制

英语原创毕业论文参考选题(200个)

一、论文说明

本写作团队致力于英语毕业论文写作与辅导服务，精通前沿理论研究、仿真编程、数据图表制作，专业本科论文3000起，具体可以联系qq958035640。下列所写题目均可写作。部分题目已经写好原创。

二、原创论文参考题目 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 中欧文化中英雄主义的比较分析——以《三国演义》和《荷马史诗》为例 《玻璃动物园》中的逃避主义解读 从《简爱》的多译本看中国两性关系的变化 《玻璃动物园》中的逃避主义解读 英汉“悲伤”情感隐喻认知对比分析 对《斯佳丽》中生态女权主义的解读 论教师的非语言行为在课堂教学中的作用 xx大学翻译方向学生发展规划 《傲慢与偏见》中英语反语的语用分析 简爱性格研究 从电视剧《绝望主妇》看委婉语的交际功能 海明威“冰山原理”在《永别了，武器》中的应用及对写作的指导意义 13 从《金色笔记》看多丽丝莱辛的女性意识 14 从礼貌原则分析《飘》中人物性格 15 从十字军东征看中世纪宗教冲突 哈克贝里·费恩与汤姆·索亚性格的对比分析 Analysis on Paul Morel’s Life Passages from the Perspective of Lawrence’s Unconscious 18 From Dormancy to Revival—A Feminist Study on Kate Chopin’s Awakening 19 国际货物销售合同的文体特征及翻译 20 浅析《最蓝的眼睛》中的叙事艺术 21 《喜宴》中反映出的中西文化差异 22 英汉状语语序修辞对比与翻译 从《在路上》解读“垮掉的一代”时代背景与主题 24 英汉新闻语篇概念隐喻对比研究 25 中国春节与美国圣诞节的文化比较 26 论《小镇畸人》中人物的怪诞性 Joy Luck Club：Chinese Tradition under American Appreciation 28 网络环境下小组合作学习模式研究 《罗密欧与朱丽叶》与《梁祝》结局的文化对比研究 A Study of C-E Translation of Tourist Materials from the Perspective of Cross-culture 31 情景法在新概念英语教学中的应用——以杭州新东方为例 32 Miss Havisham: an Imprisoned Woman in Great Expectations 33 浅析《献给艾米莉的玫瑰》中渐渐消失的玫瑰 34 《白鲸》的象征意义和悲剧内涵分析 35 浅谈《当幸福来敲门》中的美国个人主义 36 翻译的对等性研究及其应用 37 如何降低初中生英语课堂焦虑 38 从《无名的裘德》看哈代的现代性意识

卡特福德的等值翻译理论与名词化翻译——以《入乡随俗》英译汉为例 40 从审美视角分析中国古典诗词的英译

从跨文化交际角度看汉英基本颜色词文化内涵差异 42 《红字》中的象征主义

解读艾丽斯沃克的《日常用品》中的黑人女性文化 44 论《爱玛》中简奥斯丁的社会理想 45 The Tragic Color of Tender Is the Night 46 认知语境在语言交际理解中的作用

霍尔顿的人生之旅－－《麦田里的守望者》之存在主义解读 48 外教口语课堂中存在的问题及对策 49 从《简爱》看知识改变女性命运

Cross-cultural Differences in Business Etiquette Between China and America 51 浅析隐藏在“面纱”之后的伯莎梅森 52 从萨丕尔-沃尔夫假说看中英谚语的文化意象

论初中英语教学中的情景创设

技术性贸易壁垒对中国外贸行业的影响—以CR法案为例 55 论翻译的艺术

衔接理论在高中英语阅读教学中的应用 57 汉语公示语的英译

论非言语交际行为与外语教师素质的关系 59 电影《暮色》中人物对白的言语行为分析 60 中学生英语听力障碍分析与对策 61 初中英语教学中开展游戏的积极作用 62 浅析《红字》中的象征主义 63 跨文化交际中的中西方饮食文化差异 64 中英花卉隐喻下的情感叙事对比研究 65 从目的论的角度谈商标翻译的原则及技巧 66

小学英语字母与汉语拼音字母教学比较研究 68 从合作原则的视角探析《神探夏洛克》人物话语风格 69 试论英语词汇教学中的词块教学

从痛苦中顿悟—《麦田里的守望者》成长主题解读 71 The Painful Growth of Scarlett O’Hara in Her Three Marriages 72 从语用等效角度透析旅游景点名称英译 73 广告翻译中功能对等的研究 74 汉语公示语的英译

移民影响下的美国文化特点分析 76 浅析眼神交流在非语言交际中的作用

An Analysis of Humor and Satire in Mark Twain's The Million Pound Note 78 英语商务信函的礼貌用语

Application of Cooperative Principles in the Study of Intercultural Business Negotiation 80 浅析《老人与海》和《海上扁舟》中人与自然的关系 81 试析《雾都孤儿》中的浪漫主义色彩

A Study on the Translation of News Headlines from English Into Chinese

现代社会的荒诞性——从黑色幽默解读《毛猿》 84 论《皮格马利翁》的结局

从会话合作原则透析英语情景喜剧《生活大爆炸》幽默的产生

黑色孤岛上的灰色母亲—从黑人女性主义角度解读《宠儿》中的母女关系 87 中学英语教学大纲与课程标准的比较研究 88 《小城畸人》里的象征主义手法分析 89 原版英语电影在大学英语教学中的使用研究 90 Color Words in Chinese and Western Literature 91 中英酒吧文化对比

影响二语习得的因素－－案例研究 93 《老人与海》象征主义探究

从《罗密欧与朱丽叶》与《孔雀东南飞》分析中英爱情观异同 95 从跨文化交际的发展看西方饮食文化对中国饮食文化的影响 96 个人主义在美国社会中的嬗变历程分析 97 英语电影片名的汉译要求及赏析 98 礼貌用语中的语用失误

An Analysis of the Main Characters in Twilight-eclipse 100 影视英文在初中口语教学中的运用性研究 101 《红楼梦》中座次表达的英译比较

英语文学作品与改编电影的差异——以 《傲慢与偏见》及其版改编电影为例 103 从文化角度谈商标的中英互译

由女性“奴性”潜意识解析玛利娅姆多舛命运 105 Sense and Sensibility in Jane Austen’s Persuasion 106 “美国梦”的破灭——《了不起的盖茨比》中的象征 107 《简爱》与《呼啸山庄》女主人公比较分析 108 英语汽车商标的翻译策略

拉尔夫埃里森《隐形人》中的凝视与自我建构 110

从大学校训看中西方大学文化差异 112 从《嘉莉妹妹》看现代女性的自我实现

A Comparison of the English Color Terms 114 命运与性格－－浅论《哈姆雷特》的悲剧因素 115 《虹》中的女性婚姻观浅析 116 中英文数字文化对比及其翻译 117 从女性主义视角看幽默翻译

从语境视角看英译汉字幕翻译——以《梅林传奇》为例 119 功能对等理论在中文菜单翻译中的应用 120 An Analysis of Sexism in English Advertisements 121 《生活大爆炸》言语幽默语用分析

从《看得见风景的房间》看女性身份的遗失和找寻 123 汉英亲属称谓词的文化差异及翻译

A Contrastive Analysis of Chinese and English Euphemisms for Death from the Perspective of Culture 125 《动物农庄》中的象征意义研究

一个自我矛盾的精神世界—《达洛卫夫人》中的对照与一致 127 浅析英语委婉语

《女勇士》中美国华裔身份危机的探寻

美国拓荒运动中的新女性形象－－读威拉凯瑟《我的安东妮娅》 130 《简爱》中的人文主义思想述评

析《傲慢与偏见》中达西的性格及人物形象 132 A Comparison of the English Color Terms 133 中西文化中颜色词的象征意义 134 《玻璃动物园》中的逃避主义解读

从康妮的视角分析《查特莱夫人的情人》中劳伦斯的性爱观 136 反复在格特鲁德斯泰因的作品《三个女人》中的运用 137 《楚门的世界》中的黑色幽默 138 浅析隐藏在“面纱”之后的伯莎梅森 139 论英语中的汉语借词及其影响 140 英语电影片名的翻译策略与方法 141 浅析华兹华斯诗歌中的自然观

On the Character of Scarlett O’Hara and the Transition of American Society 143 《红字》中霍桑的女性观

战争、归乡、爱情—《冷山》的多元主题研究 145 《贵妇的画像》的过渡性特征的分析研究

探究瓦尔登湖的积极现实意义——倡导和谐生存发展模式

Study on Characteristics of American Black English from Social Perspectives 148 浅析隐藏在“面纱”之后的伯莎梅森 149 浅析跨文化交际中的文化休克现象及对策 150 高中英语互动式课堂教学模式研究 151 少儿英语学习中的情感因素分析

152 Research on the Expression of the Speaker’s Intention in English and Chinese Conversation 153 从依恋理论看《呼啸山庄》主人公希斯克利夫悲剧性格的形成

154 影响高中学生英语学习兴趣因素的调查及分析—以x市高中学生为调查对象 155 从“他者”到“自我”的转变——从女性主义角度看《卖花女》 156 从功能理论角度分析电影《点球成金》字幕翻译 157 Sexism in English Language 158 英语单词记忆中存在的主要问题和解决方法

159 A Preliminary Survey of Translating San in Chinese Idioms 160 中美时间观差异对跨文化交际的影响 161 浅探篮球文化的理论构建

162 浅析隐藏在“面纱”之后的伯莎梅森 163 析乔治艾略特在《织工马南》中的语言特色 164 《玻璃动物园》中的逃避主义解读 165 英语电影片名的汉译研究 166 英语新闻标题的前景化

167 An Analysis of Symbols in The Great Gatsby 168 从小飞侠彼得潘浅析詹姆斯巴里的悲剧人生 169 中西方酒店文化比较与探讨

170 A Comparative Study on Metaphors of FIRE between English and Chinese from a

Cognitive Perspective 171 《生活大爆炸》言语幽默语用分析（开题报告+论）172 论“迷惘的一代”－－以海明威为个案

173 从合作原则谈影视翻译策略——以《功夫熊猫》为例 174 野性的回归－－试析《野性的呼唤》中巴克的生存斗争 175 言语行为理论视角下的商务索赔信函话语分析 176 论《冰与火之歌》中角色视点手法的运用 177 试析跨文化交流中文化休克现象及对策 178 英语法律文本翻译原则

179 谈英语教学中导入文化背景知识的必要性

180 相同的追求，不同的命运——《红楼梦》中的林黛玉和《傲慢与偏见》中的伊丽莎白比较

181 对儿子与情人中俄狄浦斯情结的分析 182 从《喜福会》母女代沟看中西文化冲突 183 沃尔特惠特曼的民主观解读

184 归化与异化在《老友记》字幕翻译中的运用 185 意象手法在《永别了，武器》中的使用 186 论企业对员工过度压力的管理 187 通过巴丝谢芭看哈代的宿命论 188 从文化差异的角度看习语的翻译

189 解读《嘉莉妹妹》中几位男性对嘉莉妹妹的人生影响 190 论《觉醒》中艾德娜女性意识的觉醒 191 苔丝死之谜

192 有关小学双语教学现状及实施问题分析 193 《格列佛游记》对理性的反思与批判 194 中英花卉隐喻下的情感叙事对比研究 195 论《红字》中海斯特的女性主义

196 “一只陷入囹圄的小鸟”——苔丝的悲剧命运分析 197 男女生英语学习差异比较研究

198 现代伦理和俄狄浦斯情结的冲突－－浅析劳伦斯作品《儿子与情人》

199 从《老人与海》看海明威的硬汉精神 200 A Comparison of the English Color Terms

第二篇：警察与赞美诗英语 原文分析

Original Text

The Cop and the Anthem

by O.Henry1 On his bench in Madison Square Soapy moved uneasily.When wild goose honk high of nights, and when women without sealskin coats grow kind to their husbands, and when Soapy moves uneasily on his bench in the park, you may know that winter is near at hand.A dead leaf fell in Soapy’s lap.That was Jack Frost’s card.Jack is kind to the regular denizens of Madison Square, and gives fair warning of his annual call.At the corners of streets his four hands his pasteboard to the North Wind, footman of the mansion of All Outdoors, so that the inhabitants there of may make ready.Soapy’s mind became cognisant of the fact that the time had come for him to resolve himself into a singular Committee of Ways and Means to provide against the coming rigour.And therefore he moved uneasily on his bench.The hibernatorial ambitions of Soapy were not of the highest.In them were no considerations of Mediterranean cruises, of soporific Southern skies or drifting in the Vesuvian Bay.Three months on the Island was what his soul craved.Three months of assured board and bed and congenial company, safe from Boreas and bluecoats, seemed to Soapy the essence of things desirable.For years the hospitable Blackwell’s had been his winter quarters.Just as his more fortunate fellow New Yorkers had bought their tickets to annual hegira to the Island.And now the time was come.On the previous night three Sabbath newspapers, distributed beneath his coat, about his ankles and over his lap, had failed to repulse the cold as he slept on his bench near the spurting fountain in the ancient square.So the Island loomed large and timely in Soapy’s mind.He scorned the provisions made in the name of charity for the city’s dependents.In Soapy’s opinion the Law was more benign than Philanthropy.There was an endless round of institutions, municipal and eleemosynary, on which he might set out and receive lodging and food accordant with the simple life.But to one of Soapy’s proud spirit the gifts of charity are encumbered.If not in coin you must pay in humiliation of spirit for every benefit received at the its toll of a bath, every loaf of bread its compensation of a private and personal inquisition.Wherefore it is better to be a guest of the law, which though conducted by rules, does not meddle unduly with a gentleman’s private affairs.Soapy, having decided to go to the Island, at once set about accomplishing his desire.There were many easy ways of doing this.The pleasantest was to dine luxuriously at some expensive restaurant;and then, after declaring insolvency, be handed over quietly and without uproar to a policeman.An accommodating

magistrate would do the rest.Soapy left his bench and strolled out of the square and across the level sea of asphalt, where Broadway and Fifth Avenue flow together.Up Broadway he turned, and halted at a glittering café, where are gathered together nightlySoapy had confidence in himself from the lowest button of his vest upward.He was shaven, and his coat was decent and his neat black, ready-tied four-in-hand had been presented to him by a lady missionary on Thanksgiving Day.If he could reach a table in the restaurant unsuspected, success would be his.The portion of him that would show above the table would raise no doubt in the waiter’s mind.A roasted mallard duck, thought Soapy, would be about the thing—with a bottle of Chablis, and then Camembert, a demi-tasse and a cigar.One dollar for the cigar would be enough.The total would not be so high as to call forth any supreme manifestation of revenge from the café management;and yet the meat would leave him filled and happy for the journey to his winter refuge.9 But as Soapy set foot inside the restaurant door the head waiter’s eye fell upon his frayed trousers and decadent shoes.Strong and ready hands turned him about and conveyed him in silence and haste to the sidewalk and averted the ignoble fate of the menaced mallard.Soapy turned off Broadway.It seemed that his route to the coveted island was not to be an epicurean one.Some other way of entering limbo must be thought of.At a corner of Sixth Avenue electric lights and cunningly displayed wares behind plate-glass made a shop window conspicuous.Soapy took a cobble-stone and dashed it through the glass.People came running round the corner, a policeman in the lead.Soapy stood still, with his hands in his pockets, and smiled12“Where’s the man that done that?” inquired the officer excitedly.“Don’t you figure out that I might have had something to do with it?” said Soapy, not without sarcasm, but friendly, as one greets good fortune.The policeman’s mind refused to accept Soapy even as a clue.Men who smash windows do not remain to parley with the law’s minions.They take to their heels.The policeman saw a man halfway down the block running to catch a car.With drawn club he joined in the pursuit.Soapy, with disgust in his heart, loafed along, twice unsuccessful.On the opposite side of the street was a restaurant of no great pretensions.It catered to large appetites and modest purses.Its crockery and atmosphere were thick;its soup and napery thin.Into this place Soapy took his accusive shoes and tell-tale trousers without challenge.At a table he sat and consumed beefsteak, flap-jacks, doughnuts, and pie.And then to the waiter he betrayed the fact that the minutest coin and himself were strangers.“Now, get busy and call a cop,” said Soapy.“And don’t keep a gentleman

waiting.”“No cop for youse,” said the waiter, with a voice like butter cakes and an eye like the cherry in a Manhattan cocktail.“Hey, Con!”Neatly upon his left ear on the callous pavement two waiters pitched Soapy.He arose, joint by joint, as a carpenter’s rule opens, and beat the dust from his clothes.Arrest seemed but a rosy dream.The Island seemed very far away.A policeman who stood before a drug store two doors away laughed and walked down the street.Five blocks Soapy travelled before his courage permitted him to woo capture again.This time the opportunity presented what he fatuously termed to himself a “cinch.” A young woman of a modest and pleasing guise was standing before a show window gazing with sprightly interest at its display of shaving mugs and inkstands, and two yards from the window a large policeman of severe demeanour leaned against a water-plug.It was Soapy’s design to assume the rule of the despicable and execrated “masher.” The refined and elegant appearance of his victim and the contiguity of the conscientious cop encouraged him to believe that he would soon feel the pleasant official clutch upon his arm that would ensure his winter quarters of the right little, tight little isle.Soapy straightened the lady missionary’s ready-made tie, dragged his shrinking cuffs into the open, set his hat at a killing cant and sidled toward the young women.He made eyes at her, was taken with sudden coughs and “hems,” smiled, smirked, and went brazenly through the impudent and contemptible litany of the “masher.” With half an eye Soapy saw that the policeman was watching him fixedly.The young woman moved away a few steps, and again bestowed her absorbed attention upon the shaving mugs.Soapy followed, boldly stepping to her side, raised his hat and said: “Ah there, Bedelia!Don’t you want to come and play in my yard?”The policeman was still looking.The persecuted young woman had but to beckon a finger and Soapy would be practically en route for his insular haven.Already he imagined he could feel the cosy warmth of the station-house.The young woman faced him and, stretching out a hand, caught Soapy’s coat sleeve.“Sure, Mike,” she said joyfully, “if you’ll blow me to a pail of suds.I’d have spoke to you sooner, but the cop was watching.”

With the young woman playing the clinging ivy to his oak Soapy walked past the policeman overcome with gloom.He seemed doomed to liberty.At the next corner he shook off his companion and ran.He halted in the district where by night are found the lightest streets, hearts, vows, and librettos.Women in furs and men in greatcoats moved gaily in the wintry air.A sudden fear seized Soapy that some dreadful enchantment had rendered him immune to arrest.The thought brought a little of panic upon it, and when he came upon another

policeman lounging grandly in front of a transplendent theatre he caught at the immediate straw of “disorderly conduct.”On the sidewalk Soapy began to yell drunken gibberish at the top of his harsh voice.He danced, howled, raved, and otherwise disturbed the welkin.The policeman twirled his club, turned his back to Soapy and remarked to a citizen: “Tis one of them Yale lads celebratin’ the goose egg they give to the Hartford College.Noisy;but no harm.We’ve instructions to lave them be.”Disconsolate, Soapy ceased his unavailing racket.Would never a policeman lay hands on him? In his fancy the Island seemed an unattainable Arcadia.He buttoned his thin coat against the chilling wind.In a cigar store he saw a well-dressed man lighting a cigar at a swinging light.His silk umbrella he had set by the door on entering.Soapy stepped inside, secured the umbrella and sauntered off with it slowly.The man at the cigar light followed hastily.“My umbrella,” he said sternly.“Oh, is it?” sneered Soapy, adding insult to petit larceny.“Well, why don’t you call a policeman? I took it.Your umbrella!Why don’t you call a cop? There stands one on the corner.”The umbrella owner slowed his steps.Soapy did likewise, with a presentiment that luck would run against him.The policeman looked at the two curiously.31“Of course,” said the umbrella man—“that is—well, you know how these mistakes occur—I—if it’s your umbrella I hope you’ll excuse me—I picked it up this morning in a restaurant—If you recognise it as yours, why—I hope you’ll—“32 “Of course it’s mine,” said Soapy viciously.33 The ex-umbrella man retreated.The policeman hurried to assist a tall blonde in an opera cloak across the street in front of a street car that was approaching two blocks away.34 Soapy walked eastward through a street damaged by improvements.He hurled the umbrella wrathfully into an excavation.He muttered against the men who wear helmets and carry clubs.Because he wanted to fall into their clutches, they seemed to regard him as a king who could do no wrong.35 At length Soapy reached one of the avenues to the east where the glitter and turmoil was but faint.He set his face down this toward Madison Square, for the homing instinct survives even when the home is a park bench.36 But on an unusually quiet corner Soapy came to a standstill.Here was an old church, quaint and rambling and gabled.Through one violet-stained window a soft light glowed, where, no doubt, the organist loitered over the keys, making sure of his mastery of the coming Sabbath anthem.For there drifted out to Soapy’s ears sweet music that caught and held him transfixed against the convolutions of the iron fence.37 The moon was above, lustrous and serene;vehicles and pedestrains were few;sparrows twittered sleepily in the eaves—for a little while the scene might

have been a country churchyard.And the anthem that the organist played cemented Soapy to the iron fence, for he had known it well in the days when his life contained such things as mothers and roses and ambitions and friends and immaculate thoughts and collars.38 The conjunction of Soapy’s receptive state of mind and the influences about the old church wrought a sudden and wonderful change in his soul.He viewed with swift horror the pit into which he had tumbled, the degraded days, unworthy desires, dead hopes, wrecked faculties, and base motives that made up his existence.39 And also in a moment his heart responded thrillingly to this novel mood.An instantaneous and strong impulse moved him to battle with his desperate fate.He would pull himself out of the mire;he would make a man of himself again;he would conquer the evil that had taken possession of him.There was time;he was comparatively young yet;he would resurrect his old eager ambitions and pursue them without faltering.Those solemn but sweet organ notes had set up a revolution in him.Tomorrow he would go into the roaring down-town district and find work.A fur importer had once offered him a place as driver.He would find him to-morrow and ask for the position.He would be somebody in the world.He would—

Soapy felt a hand laid on his arm.He looked quickly round into the broad face of a policeman.41 “What are you doin’ here?” asked the officer.42 “Nothing’,” said Soapy.43“Then come along,” said the policeman.44“Three months on the Island,” said the Magistrate in the Police Court the next morning.

第三篇：警察与赞美诗 分析

小说的结构，一般按故事的几个阶段安排，分为开端、发展、高潮、结局几个部分

1)故事开端(苏比躺在麦迪生广场他那条长凳上——自有位识相的推事来料理)，苏比为逃脱严冬的威胁，筹划着怎样才能被捕入狱。

2)故事发展(苏比离开长凳——而我们偏偏认为他是个永远不会犯错误的国王)，苏比屡次惹是生非，都没有达到被捕入狱的目的。

3)故事高潮(最后，苏比来到通往东区的一条马路上——“那你跟我来。”警察说)。苏比伫立于教堂外良心发现，决心重新做人时，突然被捕。

4)故事结局(小说最后一自然段)，苏比被判入狱三个月。

苏比在绞尽脑汁，费尽心机后，做出了6次恶行，以求落入法网，每次的结果如何？

行为/打算/结果

1．走进豪华饭店/想白吃之后被关监狱/ 因裤子破被推到人行道上

2．用石头砸橱窗/想借此被捕/警察认为他不是肇事者

3．饱餐一顿不给钱 /想借此被捕 /侍者没喊警察把他推到人行道上。

4．扮演一个小流氓 /调戏年轻女子 /反被女子纠缠，他撒腿走开

5．在剧院门口大吵大闹 /想以“扰乱罪”被捕/警察没有理睬

6．苏比跨进烟店拿伞 /要被偷者喊警察 /捡者把伞让给了他

第四篇：警察与赞美诗英语原文[推荐]

英语原文

The Cop and the Anthemby O。Henry

On his bench in Madison Square Soapy moved uneasily.When wild goose honk high of nights, and when women without sealskin coats grow kind to their husbands, and when Soapy moves uneasily on his bench in the park, you may know that winter is near at hand.A dead leaf fell in Soapy’s lap.That was Jack Frost’s card.Jack is kind to the regular denizens of Madison Square, and gives fair warning of his annual call.At the corners of four streets he hands his pasteboard to the North Wind, footman of the mansion of All Outdoors, so that the inhabitants thereof may make ready.Soapy’s mind became cognisant of the fact that the time had come for him to resolve himself into a singular Committee of Ways and Means to provide against the coming rigour.And therefore he moved uneasily on his bench.The hibernatorial ambitions of Soapy were not of the highest.In them were no considerations of Mediterranean cruises, of soporific Southern skies or drifting in the Vesuvian Bay.Three months on the Island was what his soul craved.Three months of assured board and bed and congenial company, safe from Boreas and bluecoats, seemed to Soapy the essence of things desirable.For years the hospitable Blackwell’s had been his winter quarters.Just as his more fortunate fellow New Yorkers had bought their tickets to Palm Beach and the Riviera each winter, so Soapy had made his humble arrangements for his annual hegira to the Island.And now the time was come.On the previous night three Sabbath newspapers, distributed beneath his coat, about his ankles and over his lap, had failed to repulse the cold as he slept on his bench near the spurting fountain in the ancient square.So the Island loomed large and timely in Soapy’s mind.He scorned the provisions made in the name of charity for the city’s dependents.In Soapy’s opinion the Law was more benign than Philanthropy.There was an endless round of institutions, municipal and eleemosynary, on which he might set out and receive lodging and food accordant with the simple life.But to one of Soapy’s proud spirit the gifts of charity are encumbered.If not in coin you must pay in humiliation of spirit for every benefit received at the hands of philanthropy.As Cesar had his Brutus, every bed of charity must have its toll of a bath, every loaf of bread its compensation of a private and personal inquisition.Wherefore it is better to be a guest of the law, which though conducted by rules, does not meddle unduly with a gentleman’s private affairs.Soapy, having decided to go to the Island, at once set about accomplishing his desire.There were many easy ways of doing this.The pleasantest was to dine luxuriously at some expensive restaurant;and then, after declaring insolvency, be handed over quietly and without uproar to a policeman.An accommodating magistrate would do the rest.Soapy left his bench and strolled out of the square and across the level sea of asphalt, where Broadway and Fifth Avenue flow together.Up Broadway he turned, and halted at a glittering café, where are gathered together nightly the choicest products of the grape, the silkworm and the protoplasm.Soapy had confidence in himself from the lowest button of his vest upward.He was shaven, and his coat was decent and his neat black, ready-tied four-in-hand had been presented to him by a lady missionary on Thanksgiving Day.If he could reach a table in the restaurant unsuspected, success would be his.The portion of him that would show above the table would raise no doubt in the waiter’s mind.A roasted mallard duck, thought Soapy, would be about the thing—with a bottle

of Chablis, and then Camembert, a demi-tasse and a cigar.One dollar for the cigar would be enough.The total would not be so high as to call forth any supreme manifestation of revenge from the café management;and yet the meat would leave him filled and happy for the journey to his winter refuge.But as Soapy set foot inside the restaurant door the head waiter’s eye fell upon his frayed trousers and decadent shoes.Strong and ready hands turned him about and conveyed him in silence and haste to the sidewalk and averted the ignoble fate of the menaced mallard.Soapy turned off Broadway.It seemed that his route to the coveted island was not to be an epicurean one.Some other way of entering limbo must be thought of.At a corner of Sixth Avenue electric lights and cunningly displayed wares behind plate-glass made a shop window conspicuous.Soapy took a cobble-stone and dashed it through the glass.People came running round the corner, a policeman in the lead.Soapy stood still, with his hands in his pockets, and smiled at the sight of brass buttons.“Where’s the man that done that?” inquired the officer excitedly.“Don’t you figure out that I might have had something to do with it?” said Soapy, not without sarcasm, but friendly, as one greets good fortune.The policeman’s mind refused to accept Soapy even as a clue.Men who smash windows do not remain to parley with the law’s minions.They take to their heels.The policeman saw a man halfway down the block running to catch a car.With drawn club he joined in the pursuit.Soapy, with disgust in his heart, loafed along, twice unsuccessful.On the opposite side of the street was a restaurant of no great pretensions.It catered to large appetites and modest purses.Its crockery and atmosphere were thick;its soup and napery thin.Into this place Soapy took his accusive shoes and tell-tale trousers without challenge.At a table he sat and consumed beefsteak, flap-jacks, doughnuts, and pie.And then to the waiter he betrayed the fact that the minutest coin and himself were strangers.“Now, get busy and call a cop,” said Soapy.“And don’t keep a gentleman waiting.”

“No cop for youse,” said the waiter, with a voice like butter cakes and an eye like the cherry in a Manhattan cocktail.“Hey, Con!”

Neatly upon his left ear on the callous pavement two waiters pitched Soapy.He arose, joint by joint, as a carpenter’s rule opens, and beat the dust from his clothes.Arrest seemed but a rosy dream.The Island seemed very far away.A policeman who stood before a drug store two doors away laughed and walked down the street.Five blocks Soapy travelled before his courage permitted him to woo capture again.This time the opportunity presented what he fatuously termed to himself a “cinch.” A young woman of a modest and pleasing guise was standing before a show window gazing with sprightly interest at its display of shaving mugs and inkstands, and two yards from the window a large policeman of severe demeanour leaned against a water-plug.It was Soapy’s design to assume the rule of the despicable and execrated “masher.” The refined and elegant appearance of his victim and the contiguity of the conscientious cop encouraged him to believe that he would soon feel the pleasant official clutch upon his arm that would ensure his winter quarters of the right little, tight little isle.Soapy straightened the lady missionary’s ready-made tie, dragged his shrinking cuffs into the open, set his hat at a killing cant and sidled toward the young women.He made eyes at her, was taken with sudden coughs and “hems,” smiled, smirked, and went brazenly through the impudent

and contemptible litany of the “masher.” With half an eye Soapy saw that the policeman was watching him fixedly.The young woman moved away a few steps, and again bestowed her absorbed attention upon the shaving mugs.Soapy followed, boldly stepping to her side, raised his hat and said: “Ah there, Bedelia!Don’t you want to come and play in my yard?”

The policeman was still looking.The persecuted young woman had but to beckon a finger and Soapy would be practically en route for his insular haven.Already he imagined he could feel the cosy warmth of the station-house.The young woman faced him and, stretching out a hand, caught Soapy’s coat sleeve.“Sure, Mike,” she said joyfully, “if you’ll blow me to a pail of suds.I’d have spoke to you sooner, but the cop was watching.”

With the young woman playing the clinging ivy to his oak Soapy walked past the policeman overcome with gloom.He seemed doomed to liberty.At the next corner he shook off his companion and ran.He halted in the district where by night are found the lightest streets, hearts, vows, and librettos.Women in furs and men in greatcoats moved gaily in the wintry air.A sudden fear seized Soapy that some dreadful enchantment had rendered him immune to arrest.The thought brought a little of panic upon it, and when he came upon another policeman lounging grandly in front of a transplendent theatre he caught at the immediate straw of “disorderly conduct.”

On the sidewalk Soapy began to yell drunken gibberish at the top of his harsh voice.He danced, howled, raved, and otherwise disturbed the welkin.The policeman twirled his club, turned his back to Soapy and remarked to a citizen: “’Tis one of them Yale lads celebratin’ the goose egg they give to the Hartford College.Noisy;but no harm.We’ve instructions to lave them be.”

Disconsolate, Soapy ceased his unavailing racket.Would never a policeman lay hands on him? In his fancy the Island seemed an unattainable Arcadia.He buttoned his thin coat against the chilling wind.In a cigar store he saw a well-dressed man lighting a cigar at a swinging light.His silk umbrella he had set by the door on entering.Soapy stepped inside, secured the umbrella and sauntered off with it slowly.The man at the cigar light followed hastily.“My umbrella,” he said sternly.“Oh, is it?” sneered Soapy, adding insult to petit larceny.“Well, why don’t you call a policeman? I took it.Your umbrella!Why don’t you call a cop? There stands one on the corner.”The umbrella owner slowed his steps.Soapy did likewise, with a presentiment that luck would run against him.The policeman looked at the two curiously.“Of course,” said the umbrella man—“that is—well, you know how these mistakes occur—I—if it’s your umbrella I hope you’ll excuse me—I picked it up this morning in a restaurant—If you recognise it as yours, why—I hope you’ll—“

“Of course it’s mine,” said Soapy viciously.The ex-umbrella man retreated.The policeman hurried to assist a tall blonde in an opera cloak across the street in front of a street car that was approaching two blocks away.Soapy walked eastward through a street damaged by improvements.He hurled the umbrella wrathfully into an excavation.He muttered against the men who wear helmets and carry clubs.Because he wanted to fall into their clutches, they seemed to regard him as a king who could do no wrong.At length Soapy reached one of the avenues to the east where the glitter and turmoil was but faint.He set his face down this toward Madison Square, for the homing instinct survives even when the home is a park bench.But on an unusually quiet corner Soapy came to a standstill.Here was an old church, quaint and rambling and gabled.Through one violet-stained window a soft light glowed, where, no doubt, the organist loitered over the keys, making sure of his mastery of the coming Sabbath anthem.For there drifted out to Soapy’s ears sweet music that caught and held him transfixed against the convolutions of the iron fence.The moon was above, lustrous and serene;vehicles and pedestrains were few;sparrows twittered sleepily in the eaves—for a little while the scene might have been a country churchyard.And the anthem that the organist played cemented Soapy to the iron fence, for he had known it well in the days when his life contained such things as mothers and roses and ambitions and friends and immaculate thoughts and collars.The conjunction of Soapy’s receptive state of mind and the influences about the old church wrought a sudden and wonderful change in his soul.He viewed with swift horror the pit into which he had tumbled, the degraded days, unworthy desires, dead hopes, wrecked faculties, and base motives that made up his existence.And also in a moment his heart responded thrillingly to this novel mood.An instantaneous and strong impulse moved him to battle with his desperate fate.He would pull himself out of the mire;he would make a man of himself again;he would conquer the evil that had taken possession of him.There was time;he was comparatively young yet;he would resurrect his old eager ambitions and pursue them without faltering.Those solemn but sweet organ notes had set up a revolution in him.Tomorrow he would go into the roaring down-town district and find work.A fur importer had once offered him a place as driver.He would find him to-morrow and ask for the position.He would be somebody in the world.He would—

Soapy felt a hand laid on his arm.He looked quickly round into the broad face of a policeman.“What are you doin’ here?” asked the officer.“Nothing’,” said Soapy.“Then come along,” said the policeman.“Three months on the Island,” said the Magistrate in the Police Court the next morning.

第五篇：警察与赞美诗英语读后感

When people really want to do it, God just happens to mean the beginning, and go back on, shameless the.

Undeniably, the opportunity is the wait for anyone, it is not passive, not waiting for you to analyze, analyze it, consider this, consider that a series of trivial events, and then decided to do it.Perhaps it is itself a fleeting Wizard, which is the test of courage and guts, wisdom and soul.It does not mean that all things should not be thoughtful, careful Clofibrate conduct, and if so, what we were in ancient times? Of course, opportunity and a need to treasure, you need to take advantage of, opportunities have come across are very difficult to fully and thoroughly to take advantage of, but it is difficult.How to better perfect it is a priority.The policeman, not a claim has been given many opportunities than it? The cable does not do this than to understand what, just keep endlessly kept in mind for his so-called target to continue to play a life, clown, never tired.And lucky him, the total in the stage has written slip, but in the end was as a joke, laughed.A drama in the end, which means another Drama begins.The police is concerned, only to routine;on the reader, but near the end;of life is concerned, only a small episode;of the writer is concerned, it is a good plot;on the audience, the only worthy of a ticket;on Soapy, it is a new idea of life close to, for he had the ignorance to pay, value is what he does not escape from his hand, he may be able to reverse the fate of the Opportunity and its contempt for the lessons learned in the final result.If he will blame anyone, so that he does deserve it;if he can only blame himself, then he can say to yourself out loud: Three months, not too long, I will cherish and seize the time each day.well, in fact, did not run away, but I ignored.wait for it

Well, in fact, did not go far.Yes, a lot of happiness to dominate, the opportunity is one of them.Do not wait until God impatient, after all, he has emotions, give you played rough, then, as if too lacking in human touch of the.But their suffering.Cherish the people or things around them, they change every day, but we are too busy, did not see.Opportunity is like a chance encounter, a good thing.Take advantage of, the benefits of it to play the extreme, it is a beauty thing.A person"s life will be all sorts of conditions, each of the significance of the situation is very different, very different.Select a different situation, a different life, a different fate, a different change So, we have to opportunity, transparent, fully see, so that would not go astray friends.If the contrary, the outcome would be like Soapy: horror, realize that they have plunged into the abyss, the fallen years, shameful desire, despair, only poor intellectual exhaustion, motivation despicable.Not grasp the opportunity to meet, are fools;not met but know how to grasp opportunities is talent;both opportunities and understanding of how the event is a genius.