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Shundagarh is a village on India’s east-facing coast. It is a village of simple mud and grass houses built on the beach just above the waterline. The Khadra Hills rise immediately behind the village, to a height of one hundred and fifty meters. A simple, good-hearted old man, whose name was Jalpur, farmed two small fields on the very edge of these hills, overlooking Shundgarh. From his fields he could see the fishing boats that traveled up and down the coast. He could see the children playing on the sand; their mothers washing clothes on the flat stones where the Shiva River flowed into the see; and their fathers landing the latest catch or repairing nets and telling stories that had no end.
All Jalpur owned in the world were the clothes he wore day in and day out, the miserable hut that he slept in at night, a few tools and cooking pots—and his fields. The corn that he grew was all that made life possible. If the weather was kind and the harvest was good, Jalpur could live happily enough—not well, but happily. When the sun was fierce, and there was little or no rain, then he came close to the line between a life which was too hard, and death itself.
Last year the weather had been so kind, and the harvest promised to be so good, that Jalpur had been wondering whether he could sell all that he had and live with his son farther up the coast. He had been thinking about doing this for some years. It was his dearest wish to spend his last days with his son and his wife and children. But he would go only if he could give; he would not go if it meant taking food out the mouths of his grandchildren. He would rather die hungry than do this.
On the day on which Jalpur decided that he would harvest his com, sell it, and move up the coast, he looked out to sea and saw a huge wave, several kilometers out, advancing on the coast and on the village of Shundagarh. Within ten minutes everyone in Shundagarh would be drowned. Jalpur would have shouted, but the people were too far away to hear. He would have run down the hill, but he was too old to run. He was prepared to anything to save the people of Shundagarh, so he did the only thing that he could do: he set fire to his corn. In a matter of seconds the flames were rising high and smoke was rising higher. Within a minute the people of Shundagarh were racing up the hill to see what had happened. There, in the middle of his blackened cornfield, they found Jalpur; and there they buried him.
On his grave, they wrote the words: here lies Jalpur, a man who gave, living; a man who died, giving.
1. Why didn’t Jalpur live well?
2. What was Jalpur’s dearest wish?
3. Why did Jalpur need money?
4. Which of the following statements is true?
5. The villagers were thankful to Jaipur because he had ________.

问题1选项
A.He didn’t work hard.
B.He had too many children to feed.
C.He depended on good weather and harvest to survival.
D.The villagers kept taking his corn.
问题2选项
A.To move away from his son.
B.To take a vacation up the coast.
C.To make a great deal of money in order to live an easy life.
D.To spend his last days with his son.
问题3选项
A.His son charged him rent.
B.He wanted to buy his son a new house.
C.He wanted to bring presents to his grandchildren.
D.He didn’t want his son’s family to go hungry just because of him.
问题4选项
A.He lay dead in the middle of his blackened cornfield.
B.The villagers gave him corn to replace his burnt harvest.
C.The villagers paid him for the damage.
D.He left the village to live with his son.
问题5选项
A.given his life in order to save theirs
B.saved their village from being drowned by the wave
C.given them many things during his life
D.given them his corn in order to save them from hunger
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