世界上最美丽的英文——情满人间 All That Is beautifuhLove 第一篇: A Sailor' s christmas ifit William J. Lederer Last year at Christmas time my wife, our three boys and I were in France on our way from Paris to Nice. For five wretched days everything had gone wrong. Our hotels were "tourist traps our rented car broke down; we were all restless and irritable in the crowded car. On Christmas Eve, when we checked into a dingy hotel in Nice, there was no Christmas spirit in our hearts It was raining and cold when we went out to eat. We found a drab little joint shoddily decorated for the holidays. It smelled greasy. Only five tables in the restaurant were occupied. There were two German couples, two French families and an American sailor, by himself. In the corner, a piano player listlessly played Christmas music. I was too stubborn and too tired and miserable to leave. I looked around the noticed that the other customers were eating in stony silence. The only person who seemed happy was the American sailor While eating he was writing a letter, and a half-smile covered his face My wife ordered our meal in French. The waiter brought us the wrong thing, so I scolded my wife for being stupid. She began to cry. The boys defended her, and I felt even worse. Then at the table with the French family, on our left, the father slapped one of the children for some minor infraction, and the boy began to cry On our right, the fat, blond German woman began berating her husband All of us were interrupted by an unpleasant blast of cold air. Through the front door came an old French flower woman. She wore a dripping tattered overcoat and shuffled in on wet, rundown shoes. Carrying her basket of flowers, she went from one table to the other Flowers, monsieur? Only one franc. No one bought any Wearily she sat down at a table between the sailor and us. To the waiter she said, "A bowl of soup I haven 't sold a flower afternoon. To the piano player she said hoarsely, "Can you imagine, Joseph, soup Christmas Eve?He pointed to his empty tipping plate The young sailor finished his meal and got up to leave. Putting on his coat, he walked over to the flower womans table. Happy Christmas! he said, smiling, and picking out two corsages, asked, How much are they?世界上最美丽的英文——情满人间 All That Is Beautiful——Love 第一篇：A Sailor's Christmas Gift William J. Lederer Last year at Christmas time my wife, our three boys and I were in France on our way from Paris to Nice. For five wretched days everything had gone wrong. Our hotels were "tourist traps," our rented car broke down; we were all restless and irritable in the crowded car. On Christmas Eve, when we checked into a dingy hotel in Nice, there was no Christmas spirit in our hearts. It was raining and cold when we went out to eat. We found a drab little joint shoddily decorated for the holidays. It smelled greasy. Only five tables in the restaurant were occupied. There were two German couples, two French families and an American sailor, by himself. In the corner, a piano player listlessly played Christmas music. I was too stubborn and too tired and miserable to leave. I looked around the noticed that the other customers were eating in stony silence. The only person who seemed happy was the American sailor. While eating he was writing a letter, and a half-smile covered his face. My wife ordered our meal in French. The waiter brought us the wrong thing, so I scolded my wife for being stupid. She began to cry. The boys defended her, and I felt even worse. Then at the table with the French family, on our left, the father slapped one of the children for some minor infraction, and the boy began to cry. On our right, the fat, blond German woman began berating her husband. All of us were interrupted by an unpleasant blast of cold air. Through the front door came an old French flower woman. She wore a dripping, tattered overcoat and shuffled in on wet, rundown shoes. Carrying her basket of flowers, she went from one table to the other. "Flowers, monsieur? Only one franc." No one bought any. Wearily she sat down at a table between the sailor and us. To the waiter she said, "A bowl of soup. I haven't sold a flower all afternoon." To the piano player she said hoarsely, "Can you imagine, Joseph, soup on Christmas Eve?" He pointed to his empty tipping plate. The young sailor finished his meal and got up to leave. Putting on his coat, he walked over to the flower woman's table. "Happy Christmas!" he said, smiling, and picking out two corsages, asked, "How much are they?