www.themegallery.com an integrated english course book 4 unit 13

www.themegallery.com

An Integrated English Course

An Integrated English Course

Book 4

Unit 13


Learning Objectives Learning Objectives By the end of this unit, you are supposed to • grasp the author’s purpose of writing • make clear the structure of the whole text• understand the difficult sentences and be able to para

phrase them• master all the new words and sentence patterns and u

se them freely in conversation and writing.• know the importance of harmonious relationship betw

een man and nature


Teaching ProceduresTeaching Procedures

Pre-reading QuestionsText I. Promise of Bluebirds

● Passage● Structure analysis● Main idea of the passage● Language points

● sentence studies ● vocabulary studies

Text II. My Son, the Lion


1) What’s your favorite bird?

2) Why do most Chinese dislike crows?

Pre-reading questions


Text I: Promise of BluebirdsText I: Promise of Bluebirds


Promise of Bluebirds

The Pennsylvania landscape was in severe wintry garb as our car sped west over the interstate. The season was wrong, but I couldn’t get bluebirds out of my head.

Only three weeks before, at Christmas, Dad had given me a nesting box he’d made. He had a special feeling for the brilliant creatures, and each spring he eagerly awaited their return. Now I wondered, will he ever see one again?

It was a heart attack. Dad’s third. When I got to the hospital at 2 a.m., he was losing the fight. As the f

amily hovered at his bedside, he drifted in and out of consciousness. Once he looked up at Mom sitting beside the bed holding his hand.

“They want me to let go,” he said, “but I can’t. I don’t want to.” Mom patted his arm. “Just hold on to me,” she murmured. The next morning the cardiologist met us in the waiting room. “He’s

still fighting,” the doctor said. “I’ve never seen such strength.” A miner, Dad had not had an easy life. He and Mom raised six kids

at a time when coal miners earned as little as 25 cents a ton, and he loaded nine tons a day. Even now, I’m sure we don’t know most of the sacrifices they made for us.


I remembered Dad’s hard hat, its carbide lamp showing a fine pall of coal dust. Dad’s gray-green eyes seemed large and wise as an owl’s in his blackened face. They often sparkled with devilment when they met yours in conversation. Each evening he came home, eager to take up his crosscut saw or claw hammer. Dad could chock a piece of walnut on his lathe and deftly turn out a cherry fold-top desk with fine, dovetailed drawers as easily as he could fashion a fishing-line threader out of an old ballpoint pen. Dad bought our plain, two-story house from the coal company and immediately began to remodel it. Our house was the first on the hill to have an indoor bathroom and hot water. He spent one summer digging out the clay-filled foundation to install a coal furnace. We children no longer shivered in our bedrooms on cold winter mornings. Dad carried a spirit of craftsmanship into every job and expected the same from all six children. Each job had its claim on your best efforts. And every tool had its name. Those were his principles, and we lived by them just as Dad did. His playful spirit would set us to giggling — like the time he was building a fireplace in the backyard. He sent us to look for the “stone-bender” he needed to make the cornerstones fit more evenly. “Guess I’ll have to bend them myself,” he said when we returned empty-handed. We saw the sparkle in his eyes, and knew we’d been had.


Sitting in the hospital waiting room, I thought back to an afternoon in Dad’s workshop several years ago. He was retired by then, but he kept busy building beautiful furniture, now for his children’s homes. A volunteer naturalist, I was eager to tell him about the help bluebirds needed. When the early settlers had cleared forests for farmland, I explained, bluebirds flourished, nesting in fence-posts and orchard trees. But their habitat was disappearing, and now the birds needed nesting boxes. Dad listened as I spoke, his hands gently moving a fine-grained sand-paper over a piece of oak. I asked him if he would like to build a box. He said he would think about it. Several weeks later he invited me into his workshop. There, on his workbench, sat three well-crafted bluebird nesting boxes. “Think the birds will like them?” he asked. “As much as I do,” I replied, hugging him. Dad put up the boxes, and the next spring bluebirds nested in his yard. He was hooked.


Dad became quite an expert on the species. Bluebirds, he would say, are harbingers of hope and triumph, renowned for family loyalty. A pair will have two or three broods a year, the earlier young sometimes helping to feed the later nestlings. The presence of his children must have boosted Dad’s spirits after his attack because he grew stronger and left the hospital on Valentine’s Day. When I visited my parents at the end of March, Dad was confined to the downstairs. But I noticed that he paused longer and longer at the windows facing the backyard. I knew what he was hoping to see. And one day a bright flash of color circled the nesting box closest to our house. “Well, it’s about time the rascals showed, don’t you think?” Dad said. Sporting a resplendent blue head, back, and wings and tail, a male bluebird sang his courtship song so passionately that we dubbed him “Caruso” after the Italian tenor. A female appeared, but rejected the nesting box. Caruso found another in the field below the yard. He circled the new box, singing feverishly. She remained aloof on a distant perch.


Dad was walking more and more each day as the love story unfolded. I could see strength coming back into his wiry frame. One day Caruso battled a rival for the female’s attention. Then she fought an even more vehement battle with another female. Afterward she resumed her haughty stance while he fervently continued with his rapturous repertoire. Suddenly one exquisite morning, when the sky mirrored Caruso’s courting raiment, she flew back to the box nearest the house and inspected it thoroughly. Caruso hovered nearby and sang blissfully as she finally accepted him. Shortly thereafter she proceeded to lay one egg a day until there were six. Caruso fluttered outside, defending the nest while she incubated. Dad was now well enough to go outside, but he still couldn’t reach the backyard. He asked us to check inside the nesting box once a day. When we’d return, the question came. “Is she on the nest?” he asked. “Have the eggs hatched? Did you see that showboat what’s-his-name?” “Caruso, Dad,” I replied. “He has a name, you know.” Dad’s sly grin reflected the devilment that had returned to his eyes.


When the eggs hatched, we marveled at the herculean efforts Caruso and his mate expended to capture insects for their brood. Nestlings must be fed every 20 minutes. Near the end of May, the fledglings left the nest. By then Dad was able to walk to the fields beyond and see what other bluebird news there might be. Mom and I would watch him from the kitchen window. “He gave something to those bluebirds,” she said quietly one day. “Now they’ve given it back.”


The passage can be divided into three parts.

Part One: (Paragraphs 1- 7) • function as a preclude to the story, where the

author sets the wintry landscape as the background. She asked herself the question “…will he ever see one again?” to reveal the critical situation of her father who treated bluebirds as angels of spring and life.

Structure Analysis Structure Analysis


Part Two: (Paragraphs 8-19) • recollects the life of her father, who worked hard thr

oughout his life to support his family, yet he was never beaten down by hardships because he had tried his best to make his life colorful. Just after his retirement, her father became fascinated with bluebirds and gave part of his love to this kind of brilliant creatures.


Part Three: (Para. 9-24)• concentrates on the friendly relation between her fat

her and bluebirds, which implies the harmonious relation between man and nature, and illustrates the theme of this story—the promise of bluebirds.


Main Idea of the passage Main Idea of the passage

The text vividly describes the harmonious relationship between man and nature through the unique friendship between an ordinary old man and bluebirds—a species of North American songbird. The author starts the story in a bitter tone against the background of a cold winter. On her way to the hospital she briefly disclosed the importance of the small birds to her father who was struggling with death. Then she recalls the life of her father, his philosophy of life and his sacrifice for the family and children. Just after he retired, he became interested in, and even hooked by, bluebirds, a kind of brilliant creature. The friendly relation between her father and bluebirds implies the harmonious relation between man and nature, and illustrates the theme of this story – the promise of bluebirds.


LANGUAGE POINTSLANGUAGE POINTS• await

– wait for (formal use) E.g. Very little was said as they awaited the arrival of the distingu

ished guests.

• hover– (of a person) wait or linger close at hand in an uncertain manner

E.g. With no idea of what to do for his next move, Ham’s hand hovered over the board.

Back to the Text


• …he drifted in and out of consciousness.– …he lost and regained consciousness eve

ry now and then.

• let go– give up

E.g. She held the photos with the determined grip of a small child and wouldn’t let go.

Back to the Text


• hold on to – keep one’s hand on or around

E.g. His right arm was extended up beside his head, still holding on to a coffee cup.

• make sacrifices for – give up something valuable or important in order to

obtain something else for other people E.g. He was willing to make any sacrifice for the developme

nt of his motherland.

Back to the Text


• showing a fine pall of coal dust – covered with a layer of thin coal duststir up: c

ause to move or excite

• sparkled with devilment – betrayed or reflected his playful spirit

Back to the Text


• fashion a fishing-line threader out of an old ballpoint pen – turn an old ballpoint pen into a fishing-line t

hreader E.g. Through years of hard work, he fashioned a beautif

ul horse out of an oak root.

• Each job had its claim on your best efforts. – Each job demanded your best efforts. Back to the Text


• His playful spirit would set us to giggling.– His humorous temperament would cause us to la

ugh.

• …we’d been had. – …we had been tricked or deceived.

Back to the Text


• …cleared forests for farmland… – …remove the forests to cultivate land for farmi

ng…

• He was hooked.– He was fascinated as if fastened by a hook.

Back to the Text


• …Dad was confined to the downstairs.– …Dad could not climb upstairs.

• …the rascals showed…– …the lovely bluebirds came…

Back to the Text


• Sporting a resplendent blue head, back, and wings and tail…– With his head, back, and wings and tail growing att

ractive rich blue feathers…

• She remained aloof on a distant perch.– She stood on a distant perch, seemingly uninterest

ed in the new nest.

Back to the Text


• Then she fought an even more vehement battle with another female.– Then she fought an even more violent battle with a

nother female in response to Caruso’s love.

• …the sky mirrored Caruso’s courting raiment…– …the sky was as blue as the color of Caruso’s cou

rting clothing…

Back to the Text


• herculean efforts – extremely great efforts

Back to the Text


Comprehension questionsComprehension questions

I. Decide which of the following best states the author’s purpose of writing.

A. To characterize how her father survived his heart attack with the help of his family.

B. To describe how her father recovered from his third heart attack with the help of his doctor.

C. To narrate the harmonious relationship and mutual help between her father and bluebirds.


• They often sparkled with devilment when they met yours in conversation. The sparkle in his eyes often betrayed his playful spirit when they met your eyes in conversation.

• The presence of his children must have boosted Dad’s spirits after his attack… Dad must have been encouraged by his children’s presence at his bedside in his fight against the heart attack …

• Dad was confined to the downstairs. Dad could only move around in the rooms downstairs, unable to climb upstairs or go outside.

• Afterward she resumed her haughty stance while he fervently continued with his rapturous repertoire. After the fight, she assumed again her arrogant posture while Caruso passionately went on with his pleasant courtship songs.

• Suddenly one exquisite morning, when the sky mirrored Caruso’s courting raiment… suddenly one extremely clear morning, when the sky was as blue as the color of Caruso’s courting clothing…


TEXT II: My Son, the LionTEXT II: My Son, the LionKobie Kruger

Kobus, my husband, found the orphan in a crevice beneath a boulder, itsumbilical cord not yet dry, its voice hoarse from crying. It was a tiny lion cub, only twoor three days old. As a game ranger for South Africa’s Kruger National Park, Kobusknew the cub would die if he left it, so he wrapped it in his shirt and carried it to histruck. Then he called me on the radio. “I’ve found a lion cub abandoned by its mother,” he told me. “What shall I do?” I knew what that question meant. For one brief moment, I thought, Me? Mother to alion? But I said, “Bring it home.” The cub, small as he was, was feisty. His eyes weren’t yet open, but he hissed andmade brave little growling noises at us, his face puckering into a fierce-looking crinkle. Within days, however, he began to grow weak and lose clumps of fur. He seemedhungry all the time, slapping at his bottle in an impatient way, and when the vetdiagnosed malnutrition, I realized with alarm that the formula I’d concocted washopelessly inadequate. Our three daughters and I took turns holding and comforting the cub, and afterabout a week on his new formula, he started to recover. Lying on his back, he wouldswipe mischievously at us. Gradually he gained weight, grew new fur, and turned into ahealthy lion baby with beautiful rust-colored eyes.


We decided to call him Leo. As Leo grew larger and more powerful, he also developed a lion-size personality. He couldn’t resist stalking and pouncing on us, and we got in the habit of glancing nervously over our shoulders and bracing for impact. One day as I was gardening, I heard the phone ring. As usual, Leo jumped on me before I could reach the house. After a short but vigorous battle, I disentangled myself and tried again to reach the phone. At the door, a lightning movement at the edge of my vision made me freeze — it was a Mozambique spitting cobra that had made its residence in one of our flower beds. Leo evidently thought I had stopped because I wanted to play again. Just as the snake began to retreat, he pounced on me from behind and sent me tumbling. With that, the cobra spat at us, and the venom caught me on the leg, where it dripped toward a scratch on my ankle. I pushed Leo away and hurried to the nearest tap to wash off the poison before it could make contact with my raw skin.


To my amazement, the phone was still ringing when I finally got to it. But I didn’t bother to explain to the caller what had taken so long. How do you tell someone that you couldn’t reach the phone because you were being attacked by a cobra and a lion? Leo evidently had the instinct for hunting, but we still worried about his ability to survive once he was too big for us to manage. He and our Australian cattle dog, Wolfie, had become inseparable friends, and lately Leo had been learning canine skills that would disgrace most lions — including, in one instance, the art of herding a bewildered mother wart hog and her three babies. In 1993, when Leo was about a year old, our park warden began urging us to find a permanent home for him. The search was discouraging at first; the only parks eager to take Leo were “canned lion” establishments that used lions for trophy hunting. Finally we found a park that kept animals for tourism and filming purposes. Though technically in captivity, the animals were actually quite free, living in large camps in family groups. Once there, however, Leo cowered in the grass when he saw the other lions, and refused to budge. We expressed our concern, but the owner reassured us that it usually took a hand-reared lion some time to realize he was a real lion.


When it was time for us to leave, I brought Leo a favorite pillow I had owned since childhood. As if he knew we were going, he slumped to a crouch, clutching the pillow. We drove away, and only Wolfie looked back, staring at his friend until he could no longer see him. More than a year passed, with little word of how Leo was adapting. Finally, in July 1995, Kobus and I and our youngest daughter, Karin, made the long journey to visit him. When we arrived, Leo appeared from between some trees, and my heart caught in my throat. He was so big — more than 400 pounds now — but his features were the same. He halted and stared at us with a puzzled expression. Suddenly his eyes came alive with recognition, and he rushed forward, throwing himself at Kobus with a shuddering groan, while turning his huge body sideways to reduce the impact. Shaking with emotion, I stepped forward and offered Leo my arm, which he took gently in his jaws. Then I hugged his enormous face to mine, trying hard not to cry.


During our last day at the park, we found Leo lying in the sun with two lionesses. He ran to us, and we talked to him until one of the lionesses gave a call. With an answering grunt, Leo walked back and lay down with her again. He looked regal, like the contented king that he was. That’s when I knew Leo had become a real lion. He had his own family now, and it was time for us to say good-bye.


• Comprehension questions• What did Kobus really mean when he asked his wife

on the radio “What shall I do?”• How did the author and her husband look after the cu

b?• What difficulties did the cub have when he was sent

back to live with wild animals?• What do we learn from this story?


Main IdeaKobus, the author’s husband, found a tiny lion cub and brought it home. They tried their best to look after it as if it were their son. They gave it the right food, held him and comforted him, and spent time playing with him in order to make him healthy and happy. When the family believed it was too big to manage, they sent it back to live with wild animals in a park that kept animals for tourism and filming purposes. At first, it was a bit frightened, but gradually it accustomed itself to the life there, and finally it became a real lion. This passage tells us that man should treat animals in a friendly way and help them and protect them when they are in such a need. It is necessary for man to seek a harmonious relationship with animals.


• Notes to text II

• About the text: it is taken from Reader’s Digest July 2001• unbilical cord (Paragraph 1): the long tube that connects a baby to its m

other inside her womb• The cub, small as he was, was feisty. (Paragraph 4): although the cub wa

s small, he was active.• bracing for impact (Paragraph 8): preparing for the sudden and forceful l

eap of the cub upon us• wart hog (Paragraph 13): a wild pig in Africa with little lumps on the mal

e’s face• our park warden (Paragraph 14): the official in charge of our park• trophy hunting (Paragraph 14): a kind of hunting in which whoever shoot

s something dead will get a prize• … Leo cowered in the grass (Paragraph 15): … Leo moved back into the

grass because he felt frightened …• He looked regal … (Paragraph 20): He looked like a king …

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