3과 빈칸넣기(고3,2011년)

Unit 3 Say in Touch

Sally, the Operator

When I was quite young, my family had one of the first ( ) in our neighborhood. I remember the wood case fasten to the wall near the stairs. The shiny receiver hang on the side of the box, and our ( ) number was 105. once, my mother lifted me up to speak to my father, ( ) was away ( ) business. Magic! Then I discovered that inside that wonderful box lived an ( ) person! Her name was "Information Please," and there was nothing ( ) she did not know. My mother could ask her for anybody's number, and when our clock had wrong time, "Information Please" immediately supplied the ( )time.

My first experience with ( ) came one day when my mother was visiting a neighbor. While play, I hit my finger with a hammer. The pain was terrible, ( )there didn't ( ) to be much ( ) cry ( ) there was no one home to offer ( ) . I walked around the house suck on my finger, ( ) I saw the telephone. Quickly, I grabbed a chair and climbed up to the receiver.

"Information Please," I said into the mouthpiece.

A small clear voice spoke into my ear. "Information."

"I hurt my finger!" I cried into the phone. The tears came stream down my face.

"Isn't your mother home?"

"Nobody's at home ( ) me," I said in ( )sobs.

"Are you bleeding?"

"No," I replied. "I hit it with the hammer and it hurts."

"Can you open the( ) ?" she asked. I said I could. "Then chip off a little piece of ice and hold it on your finger. That'll stop the pain. And don't cry. You'll be all right."

After that, I called "Information Please" for ( ) . I asked for help with my geography homework, and she told me where Philadelphia was. She listened to my child problems. When our pet canary died, I called "Information Please" and told her the sad story. She said the usual things grown-ups say to ( ) a child. ( ) I was still unhappy.

어순[Why /was/ it /that /birds /should /sing/ so /beautifully] and bring joy to whole families, only to end up dying, on the bottom of a cage? She quietly said, "Paul, always remember that there are other worlds to sing in." Somehow, I felt better.

One day, I was asking for help with my homework, as usual.

"How do you spell fix?"

"F-I-X."

At that instant, my sister, ( ) liked scare me, jumped off the stairs and yelled, "Yaaaaaaaaa!"

I felt off the chair, pull the receiver out of the box by its roots. My sister and I were both terrified - "Information Please" was no longer there, and I wondered ( ) I hadn't hurt her when I pulled the receiver out of the box. Minutes later, there was a man at the door. "I'm a telephone ( ) . I was working down the street, and the ( ) said there might be some trouble at this number." He reached for the receiver in my hand. "What happened?" I told him. "Well, we can fix that in a minute." He opened the telephone box and worked for a while with the receiver cord, tighten things with a screwdriver. He pressed the hook up and down, and then spoke into the phone. "Hi, this is Pete. Everything's ( ) control at 105. The kid's sister scared him, and he pulled the cord ( ) of the box." He hung up, smile gave me a pat on the head, and walk out the door.

All this took place in a small town near Seattle. Then, When I was nine years old, we moved across the country to Boston, and I ( ) this kind lady acutely. As I grew into my teens, the ( ) of those childhood conversations never left me; in moments of ( ) and ( ), I would recall the peaceful sense of security I had when I knew that I could call "Information Please" and get the right answer. I appreciated how ( ) , understand, and ( ) she was to have made time for a little boy.

A few years later, ( ) traveling back to college, my plane landed in Seattle. As I was sitting in the airport wait for my next plane, and without think about ( ) I was doing, I dialed my hometown operator and said, "Information Please."

( ), I heard again the small, clear voice that I knew so well: "Information"

I hadn't planned this, but I heard myself saying, "Could you tell me where Philadelphia is?"

There was a long( ) . Then came the soft answer. "I guess your ( ) must heal by now."

I laughed. "So it's really still you. I wonder if you have any idea how much you meant to me during all that time."

"I wonder," she replied, "if you know how much you meant to me. I never had any children, and I used to look ( ) to your calls. Silly, wasn't it?" It didn't seem silly, ( ) I didn't say so. ( ) , I told her how often I had thought of her over the years, and I asked if I could call her again. "Please do. Just ask for Sally."

"Good-bye, Sally." It sounded strangely for " ( )" to have a ( ) .

Just three months later, I was back again at the airport in Seattle. A ( ) voice answered, "Information," and I asked for Sally.

"Are you a friend?" "Yes," I said. "An ( ) friend."

"Then I'm sorry to have to tell you. Sally was ill. She died five weeks ago."

( )before I could hang up, she said, "Wait a minute. Did you say your name was Paul?"

"Yes.""Well, Sally left a message for you. She wrote it down."

"What was it?" I asked.

"She said, "Tell him I still say there are other worlds to ( ) ( ) . He'll know ( ) I mean." I thanked her and hung up. I ( ) know ( ) Sally meant.