短文改错。Dear Jim,I'd like to tell you something ...

短文改错。

Dear Jim,

I'd like to tell you something more about our school sports meet. It was holding on Oct. 6th, it was a fine day. There were over 1,000 students and teachers attended it. Wang Lin, a student from my class won the 100-meters race. He finished the race in 12.6 seconds and broke the school record. The sports meet was really success. That was because we were all trying to do my best. Although I was not one of the winner, I was proud of that we had done.

Looking forward to receive your letter.

Yours, Li Ping

高三英语短文改错中等难度题查看答案及解析

— I’d like to buy the new style of computer here, would you please tell me something more about your product?

---_______________.

A. Thank you　　　 　 　 B. At your service

C. You are welcome　　 D. It’s a pleasure

高三英语单项填空中等难度题查看答案及解析

短文改错。

Dear Mr Smith,

I was so please to hear from you and I'm writing to tell you something about my school. You are right, quite few changes have been taken place. On the one side of the road, there has a new classroom building. On the other side which a playground used to be now stand another new building, our library. In it there are all kind of books, newspapers or magazines. The playground is now in front of school. We've also plant a lot of trees in and around the school. I hope you come and see for yourself some days.

Best wishes!

Yours,

高三英语短文改错困难题查看答案及解析

短文改错（共10小题；每小题1分，满分10分）

Dear Peter,

I’d like to ask you to write article for our school’s English Newspaper.

The “Foreign Cultures” section in our newspaper is very popular in us students. It carried articles write by foreign friends about the cultures of their home countries. Would you please to write something about the culture in your part of the United States? And we would especial welcome articles about that Americans spend their holidays and festivals, but the life of American high school students. You can write anything relevantly so long as it’s interesting and informative. 400 words would be fine. Could we have your article before Jun 28?

I’m looking forward to hear from you.

Yours,

Li Hua

高三英语短文改错中等难度题查看答案及解析

Dear Jim,

I’d like to invite you for dinner in a Chinese restaurant in Los Angeles. I can imagine how surprising you are! In fact, I am there visiting my uncle, who happened to be working in the city at present.

The Chinese restaurant naming New Panda Buffet provides genuine Chinese food, where many diners have given 5-star reviews. It is located at 5120 Rodeo Rd, Los Angeles. Could you come at 6 p.m. on Friday ?

By the way, I will present you with a go set then. I really appreciate that you have done to help me with my English during the past two years. But you, I would not have made such a great progress in English.

Looking forward to you early reply!

Yours,

Li Hua

高三英语短文改错中等难度题查看答案及解析

Dear Guys,

I’d like to talk to you about the shame you subjected me to last night. Let me first refresh your memory: You, a group of fit, young men, were playing soccer on the field across from my apartment building. I, a better-than-average looking young woman, was walking along the sidewalk with my groceries. That’s when your ball came flying over the fence and landed in front of me.

One of you approached and asked politely if I would throw the ball back to you. Fighting the urge to drop my bags and run screaming down the street, I reluctantly agreed.

Before I continue, let me explain something that I didn’t have a chance to mention last night: I hate sports. More specifically, I hate sports involving balls. This results from my lack of natural ability when it comes to throwing, catching and hitting. I’m bad at aiming too. So you can understand why I’d be nervous at what I’m sure seemed to you like a laughably simple request. However, wanting to appear agreeable, I put my bags down, picked up the ball and, eyes half-shut, and threw it as hard as I could.

It hit the middle of the fence and bounced back to me.

Trying to act casually, I said something about being out of practice, then picked up the ball again. If you’ll remember, at your command, I agreed to try throwing underhand. While outwardly I was smiling, in my head, I was praying, Oh God, oh please oh please oh please. I threw the ball upward with all my strength, terrified by what happened next.

The ball hit slightly higher up on the fence and bounced back to me.

This is the point where I start to take issue with you. Wouldn’t it have been a better use of your time, and mine, if you had just walked around the fence and took the ball then? I was clearly struggling; my smiles were more and more forced. And yet, you all just stood there, motionless.

Seeing that you weren’t going to let me out of the trouble, I became desperate. Memories of middle school softball came flooding back. I tried hard to throw the ball but it only went about eight feet, then I decided to pick it up and dash with ball in hand towards the baseline, while annoyed thirteen-year-old boys screamed at me that I was ruining their lives. Children are cruel. Being a big girl now, I pushed those memories aside and picked up the soccer ball for the third time. I forced a good-natured laugh while crying inside as you patiently shouted words of support over the fence at me.

“Throw it granny-style!” one of you said.

“Just back up a little and give it all you’ve got!” another offered.

And, most embarrassing of all, “You can do it!”

I know you thought you were being encouraging, but it only served to deepen the shame.

Anyway, I accepted your ball-throwing advice, backed up, rocked back and forth a little, took a deep breath and let it fly.

It hit the edge of the fence and bounced back to me.

I surprised myself --- and I’m sure you as well --- by letting out a cry, “DAMN IT!!!” I then willed myself to have a heart attack and pass out in front of you just so I’d be put out of my misery. Alas, the heart attack didn’t happen, and you continued to look at me expectantly, like you were content to do this all night. I had become a sort of exhibition for you. I could feel your collective thoughts drifting through the chain-link: “Can she really not do it? But I mean, really?”

Unfortunately for you, I wasn’t really game to continue your experiment. Three failed attempts at a simple task in front of a group of people in a two-minute period was just enough blow for me for one night. I picked up the ball one last time, approached the fence and grumbled, “Please just come get the damn ball.”

And you did. And thanks to you, I decided at that very moment to never throw anything ever again, except disrespectful glances at people who play sports.

Sincerely, Jen Cordery

1. The writer agreed to throw the ball because _______.

A. she needed to have a relax carrying the heavy groceries

B. she wanted to refresh her childhood memories

C. she could not refuse the polite request from the young man

D. she had fallen in love with the young man at first sight

2.Which of the following is closest in meaning to the underlined word “game”?

A. anxious                                      B. brave                                C. afraid                                D. curious

3.Why did the writer mention her middle school memory?

A. To explain why she failed the attempts to throw the ball back.

B. To complain that she had not mastered the ball throwing skills.

C. To show how cruel those 13-year-old boys were.

D. To express her dislike towards softball.

4.What the boys said before the writer’s third attempt actually made the writer ________.

A. inspired                                     B. encouraged                     C. embarrassed                   D. depressed

5.What’s the writer’s purpose in writing this open letter?

A. To express her regret over what she did the day before.

B. To announce that she would never play ball games again.

C. To explain her own inability to throw the ball over the fence.

D. To criticize the young men for their cruelty to her dignity.

高三英语阅读理解中等难度题查看答案及解析

Dear Guys,

I’d like to talk to you about the shame you subjected me to last night. Let me first refresh your memory You, a group of fit, young men, were playing soccer on the field across from my apartment building. I, a better-than-average looking young woman, was walking along the sidewalk with my groceries. That’s when your ball came flying over the fence and landed in front of me.

One of you approached and asked politely if I would throw the ball back to you. Fighting the urge to drop my bags and run screaming down the street, I reluctantly (勉强地) agreed.

Before I continue, let me explain something that I didn’t have a chance to mention last night I hate sports. More specifically, I hate sports involving balls. This results from my lack of natural ability when it comes to throwing, catching and hitting. I’m bad at aiming too. So you can understand why I’d be nervous at what I’m sure seemed to you like a laughably simple request.

However, wanting to appear agreeable, I put my bags down, picked up the ball and, eyes half-shut, and threw it as hard as I could.

It hit the middle of the fence and bounced back to me.

Trying to act casually, I said something about being out of practice, and then picked up the ball again. If you’ll remember, at your command, I agreed to try throwing underhand. While outwardly I was smiling, in my head, I was praying, oh God, oh please oh please oh please. I threw the ball upward with all my strength, terrified by what happened next.

The ball hit slightly higher up on the fence and bounced back to me.

This is the point where I start to take issue with you. Wouldn’t it have been a better use of your time, and mine, if you had just walked around the fence and took the ball then? I was clearly struggling; my smiles were more and more forced. And yet, you all just stood there, motionless.

Seeing that you weren’t going to let me out of the trouble, I became desperate. Memories of middle school softball came flooding back. I tried hard to throw the ball but it only went about eight feet, then I decided to pick it up and dash with ball in hand towards the baseline, while annoyed thirteen-year-old boys screamed at me that I was ruining their lives. Children are cruel.

Being a big girl now, I pushed those memories aside and picked up the soccer ball for the third time. I forced a good-natured laugh while crying inside as you patiently shouted words of support over the fence at me.

“Throw it granny-style!” one of you said.

“Just back up a little and give it all you’ve got!” another offered.

And, most embarrassing of all, “You can do it!”

I know you thought you were being encouraging, but it only served to deepen the shame.

Anyway, I accepted your ball-throwing advice, backed up, rocked back and forth a little, took a deep breath and let it fly.

It hit the edge of the fence and bounced back to me.

I surprised myself—and I’m sure you as well—by letting out a cry, “DAMN IT!!!” I then willed myself to have a heart attack and pass out in front of you just so I’d be put out of my misery.

Alas, the heart attack didn’t happen, and you continued to look at me expectantly, like you were content to do this all night. I had become a sort of exhibition for you. I could feel your collective thoughts drifting through the chain-link “Can she really not do it? But I mean, really?”

Unfortunately for you, I wasn’t really game to continue your experiment. Three failed attempts at a simple task in front of a group of people in a two-minute period were just enough blows for me for one night. I picked up the ball one last time, approached the fence and grumbled, “Please just come get the damn ball.”

And you did. And thanks to you, I decided at that very moment to never throw anything ever again, except disrespectful glances at people who play sports.

Sincerely, Jen Cordery

1. The writer agreed to throw the ball because ______.

A. she needed to have a relax carrying the heavy groceries

B. she wanted to refresh her childhood memories

C. she could not refuse the polite request from the young man

D. she had fallen in love with the young man at first sight

2. Which of the following is closet in meaning to the underlined word “game”?

A. anxious　　　 B. brave　　 C. afraid　　 D. curious

3. Why did the writer mention her middle school memory?

A. To explain why she failed the attempts to throw the ball back.

B. To complain that she had not mastered the ball throwing skills.

C. To show how cruel those 13-year-old boys were.

D. To express her dislike towards softball.

4. What the boys said before the writer’s third attempt actually made the writer ________.

A. encouraged　　 B. moved　　 C. awkward　　 D. depressed

5. What happened to the ball at last?

A. The writer managed to throw the ball back.

B. The boy got the ball back by himself.

C. The writer threw the ball away out of anger.

D. The boys got angry and left without the ball.

6. What’s the writer’s purpose in writing this open letter?

A. To express her regret over what she did the day before.

B. To announce that she would never play all games again.

C. To reflect upon an embarrassing incident in her life.

D. To criticize the young men for their cruelty to her dignity.

高三英语阅读理解中等难度题查看答案及解析

Dear Guys,

I’d like to talk to you about the shame you subjected me to last night. Let me first refresh your memory: You, a group of fit, young men, were playing soccer on the field across from my apartment building. I, a better-than-average looking young woman, was walking along the sidewalk with my groceries. That’s when your ball came flying over the fence and landed in front of me.

One of you approached and asked politely if I would throw the ball back to you. Fighting the urge to drop my bags and run screaming down the street, I reluctantly (勉强地) agreed.

Before I continue, let me explain something that I didn’t have a chance to mention last night: I hate sports. More specifically, I hate sports involving balls. This results from my lack of natural ability when it comes to throwing, catching and hitting. I’m bad at aiming too. So you can understand why I’d be nervous at what I’m sure seemed to you like a laughably simple request.

However, wanting to appear agreeable, I put my bags down, picked up the ball and, eyes half-shut, and threw it as hard as I could.

It hit the middle of the fence and bounced back to me.

Trying to act casually, I said something about being out of practice, and then picked up the ball again. If you’ll remember, at your command, I agreed to try throwing underhand. While outwardly I was smiling, in my head, I was praying, oh God, oh please oh please oh please. I threw the ball upward with all my strength, terrified by what happened next.

The ball hit slightly higher up on the fence and bounced back to me.

This is the point where I start to take issue with you. Wouldn’t it have been a better use of your time, and mine, if you had just walked around the fence and took the ball then? I was clearly struggling; my smiles were more and more forced. And yet, you all just stood there, motionless.

Seeing that you weren’t going to let me out of the trouble, I became desperate. Memories of middle school softball came flooding back. I tried hard to throw the ball but it only went about eight feet, then I decided to pick it up and dash with ball in hand towards the baseline, while annoyed thirteen-year-old boys screamed at me that I was ruining their lives. Children are cruel.

Being a big girl now, I pushed those memories aside and picked up the soccer ball for the third time. I forced a good-natured laugh while crying inside as you patiently shouted words of support over the fence at me.

“Throw it granny-style!” one of you said.

“Just back up a little and give it all you’ve got!” another offered.

And, most embarrassing of all, “You can do it!”

I know you thought you were being encouraging, but it only served to deepen the shame.

Anyway, I accepted your ball-throwing advice, backed up, rocked back and forth a little, took a deep breath and let it fly.

It hit the edge of the fence and bounced back to me.

I surprised myself—and I’m sure you as well—by letting out a cry, “DAMN IT!!!” I then willed myself to have a heart attack and pass out in front of you just so I’d be put out of my misery.

Alas, the heart attack didn’t happen, and you continued to look at me expectantly, like you were content to do this all night. I had become a sort of exhibition for you. I could feel your collective thoughts drifting through the chain-link: “Can she really not do it? But I mean, really?”

Unfortunately for you, I wasn’t really game to continue your experiment. Three failed attempts at a simple task in front of a group of people in a two-minute period were just enough blows for me for one night. I picked up the ball one last time, approached the fence and grumbled, “Please just come get the damn ball.”

And you did. And thanks to you, I decided at that very moment to never throw anything ever again, except disrespectful glances at people who play sports.

Sincerely,

Jen Cordery

1.The writer agreed to throw the ball because ______.

A．she needed to have a relax carrying the heavy groceries

B．she wanted to refresh her childhood memories

C．she could not refuse the polite request from the young man

D．she had fallen in love with the young man at first sight

2.Which of the following is closet in meaning to the underlined word “game”?

A．anxious　　　 B．brave　　　　　　 C．afraid　　　　　　 D．curious

3.Why did the writer mention her middle school memory?

A．To explain why she failed the attempts to throw the ball back.

B．To complain that she had not mastered the ball throwing skills.

C．To show how cruel those 13-year-old boys were.

D．To express her dislike towards softball.

4.What the boys said before the writer’s third attempt actually made the writer ________.

A．inspired　　　 B．encouraged　　　 C．awkward　　 D．depressed

5.What happened to the ball at last?

A．The writer managed to throw the ball back.

B．The boy got the ball back by himself.

C．The writer threw the ball away out of anger.

D．The boys got angry and left without the ball.

6.What’s the writer’s purpose in writing this open letter?

A．To express her regret over what she did the day before.

B．To announce that she would never play all games again.

C．To joke on her inability to throw the ball over the fence.

D．To criticize the young men for their cruelty to her dignity.

高三英语阅读理解困难题查看答案及解析

Dear Guys,

I’d like to talk to you about the shame you subjected me to last night. Let me first refresh your memory: You, a group of fit, young men, were playing soccer on the field across from my apartment building. I, a better-than-average looking young woman, was walking along the sidewalk with my groceries. That’s when your ball came flying over the fence and landed in front of me.

One of you approached and asked politely if I would throw the ball back to you. Fighting the urge to drop my bags and run screaming down the street, I reluctantly (勉强地) agreed.

Before I continue, let me explain something that I didn’t have a chance to mention last night: I hate sports. More specifically, I hate sports involving balls. This results from my lack of natural ability when it comes to throwing, catching and hitting. I’m bad at aiming too. So you can understand why I’d be nervous at what I’m sure seemed to you like a laughably simple request.

However, wanting to appear agreeable, I put my bags down, picked up the ball and, eyes half-shut, threw it as hard as I could.

It hit the middle of the fence and bounced back to me.

Trying to act casually, I said something about being out of practice, then picked up the ball again. If you’ll remember, at your command, I agreed to try throwing underhand. While outwardly I was smiling, in my head, I was praying, Oh God, oh please oh please oh please. I threw the ball upward with all my strength, terrified by what happened next.

The ball hit slightly higher up on the fence and bounced back to me.

This is the point where I start to take issue with you. Wouldn’t it have been a better use of your time, and mine, if you had just walked around the fence and took the ball then? I was clearly struggling; my smiles were more and more forced. And yet, you all just stood there, motionless.

Seeing that you weren’t going to let me out of the trouble, I became desperate. Memories of middle school softball came flooding back. I tried hard to throw the ball but it only went about eight feet, then I decided to pick it up and dash with ball in hand towards the baseline, while annoyed thirteen-year-old boys screamed at me that I was ruining their lives. Children are cruel.

Being a big girl now, I pushed those memories aside and picked up the soccer ball for the third time. I forced a good-natured laugh while crying inside as you patiently shouted words of support over the fence at me.

“Throw it granny-style!” one of you said.

“Just back up a little and give it all you’ve got!” another offered.

And, most embarrassing of all, “You can do it!”

I know you thought you were being encouraging, but it only served to deepen the shame.

Anyway, I accepted your ball-throwing advice, backed up, rocked back and forth a little, took a deep breath and let it fly.

It hit the edge of the fence and bounced back to me.

I surprised myself-and I’m sure you as well-by letting out a cry, “DAMN IT!!!” I then willed myself to have a heart attack and pass out in front of you just so I’d be put out of my misery.

Alas, the heart attack didn’t happen, and you continued to look at me expectantly, like you were content to do this all night. I had become a sort of exhibition for you. I could feel your collective thoughts drifting through the chain-link: “Can she really not do it? But I mean, really?”

Unfortunately for you, I wasn’t really game to continue your experiment. Three failed attempts at a simple task in front of a group of people in a two-minute period was just enough blow for me for one night. I picked up the ball one last time, approached the fence and grumbled, “Please just come get the damn ball.”

And you did. And thanks to you, I decided at that very moment to never throw anything ever again, except disrespectful glances at people who play sports.

Sincerely, Jen Cordery

1.The writer agreed to throw the ball because ______.

A. she needed to have a relax carrying the heavy groceries

B. she wanted to refresh her childhood memories

C. she could not refuse the polite request from the young man

D. she had fallen in love with the young man at first sight

2.Why did the writer mention her middle school memory?

A. To explain why she failed the attempts to throw the ball back.

B. To complain that she had not mastered the ball throwing skills.

C. To show how cruel those 13-year-old boys were.

D. To express her dislike towards softball.

3.What the boys said before the writer’s third attempt actually made the writer _______.

A. inspired                B. encouraged             C. embarrassed                  D. depressed

4.What happened to the ball at last?

A. The writer managed to throw the ball back.

B. The boy got the ball back by himself.

C. The writer threw the ball away out of anger.

D. The boys got angry and left without the ball.

高三英语阅读理解中等难度题查看答案及解析

Dear Guys,

I’d like to talk to you about the shame you subjected me to last night. Let me first refresh your memory: You, a group of fit, young men, were playing soccer on the field across from my apartment building. I, a better-than-average looking young woman, was walking along the sidewalk with my groceries. That’s when your ball came flying over the fence and landed in front of me.

One of you approached and asked politely if I would throw the ball back to you. Fighting the urge to drop my bags and run screaming down the street, I reluctantly (勉强地) agreed.

Before I continue, let me explain something that I didn’t have a chance to mention last night: I hate sports. More specifically, I hate sports involving balls. This results from my lack of natural ability when it comes to throwing, catching and hitting. I’m bad at aiming too. So you can understand why I’d be nervous at what I’m sure seemed to you like a laughably simple request.

However, wanting to appear agreeable, I put my bags down, picked up the ball and, eyes half-shut, threw it as hard as I could.

It hit the middle of the fence and bounced back to me.

Trying to act casually, I said something about being out of practice, then picked up the ball again. If you’ll remember, at your command, I agreed to try throwing underhand. While outwardly I was smiling, in my head, I was praying, Oh God, oh please oh please oh please. I threw the ball upward with all my strength, terrified by what happened next.

The ball hit slightly higher up on the fence and bounced back to me.

This is the point where I start to take issue with you. Wouldn’t it have been a better use of your time, and mine, if you had just walked around the fence and took the ball then? I was clearly struggling; my smiles were more and more forced. And yet, you all just stood there, motionless.

Seeing that you weren’t going to let me out of the trouble, I became desperate. Memories of middle school softball came flooding back. I tried hard to throw the ball but it only went about eight feet, then I decided to pick it up and dash with ball in hand towards the baseline, while annoyed thirteen-year-old boys screamed at me that I was ruining their lives. Children are cruel.

Being a big girl now, I pushed those memories aside and picked up the soccer ball for the third time. I forced a good-natured laugh while crying inside as you patiently shouted words of support over the fence at me.

“Throw it granny-style!” one of you said.

“Just back up a little and give it all you’ve got!” another offered.

And, most embarrassing of all, “You can do it!”

I know you thought you were being encouraging, but it only served to deepen the shame.

Anyway, I accepted your ball-throwing advice, backed up, rocked back and forth a little, took a deep breath and let it fly.

It hit the edge of the fence and bounced back to me.

I surprised myself-and I’m sure you as well-by letting out a cry, “DAMN IT!!!” I then willed myself to have a heart attack and pass out in front of you just so I’d be put out of my misery.

Alas, the heart attack didn’t happen, and you continued to look at me expectantly, like you were content to do this all night. I had become a sort of exhibition for you. I could feel your collective thoughts drifting through the chain-link: “Can she really not do it? But I mean, really?”

Unfortunately for you, I wasn’t really game to continue your experiment. Three failed attempts at a simple task in front of a group of people in a two-minute period was just enough blow for me for one night. I picked up the ball one last time, approached the fence and grumbled, “Please just come get the damn ball.”

And you did. And thanks to you, I decided at that very moment to never throw anything ever again, except disrespectful glances at people who play sports.

Sincerely, Jen Cordery

1.The writer agreed to throw the ball because ______.

A. she needed to have a relax carrying the heavy groceries

B. she wanted to refresh her childhood memories

C. she could not refuse the polite request from the young man

D. she had fallen in love with the young man at first sight

2.Why did the writer mention her middle school memory?

A. To explain why she failed the attempts to throw the ball back.

B. To complain that she had not mastered the ball throwing skills.

C. To show how cruel those 13-year-old boys were.

D. To express her dislike towards softball.

3. What the boys said before the writer’s third attempt actually made the writer _______.

A. inspired                B. encouraged             C. embarrassed                  D. depressed

4.What happened to the ball at last?

A. The writer managed to throw the ball back.

B. The boy got the ball back by himself.

C. The writer threw the ball away out of anger.

D. The boys got angry and left without the ball.

高三英语阅读理解中等难度题查看答案及解析